NATION

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Kingmaker ATTN: AXIS (CLOSED)

A staging-point for declarations of war and other major diplomatic events. [In character]

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O Boyce
Diplomat
 
Posts: 507
Founded: Apr 22, 2007
Ex-Nation

Postby O Boyce » Sat Jan 10, 2015 11:35 am

Augesh 13 2630 SFY,
City of Tranquietel, Pokos
Flock of Temporal Investigations Office


The FTI offices sat on a low high ridge that jutted out not far from the Temple District of the mountain metropolis. Its shiny black walls glossy in the evening light, causing the entire building to stand out from the older stone and marble buildings that littered the slopes around the offices. The offices had stood there on that site for over a century. The massive main tower was surrounded by a park like atmosphere that held two small temples, the first of the kind to be built of the like on Tranquietel. One, to the god Doctuream, the old god of time and space, and the first Predestiny temple built in honor of the ‘One’. These temples, marked the first time that time travel had effected the Pokosian people and after the events that ended the reign of High Tar Artos III, the following High Tar marked off the section of the city that had once been a series of smaller shrines that had previously been damaged by a storm a few years before. These shrines were moved and the offices were built, along with the temples. Over the time the offices and the grounds were modified. The kinds of artifacts that were brought and stored in the massive underground vaults were very sensitive nature. Artifacts that had some sort of temporal nature that if they were to fall into the wrong hands, could cause all kinds of trouble. The most secure place in the commonwealth.

Now that the entire commonwealth was tearing itself apart at the seams, FTI troopers were lining the low wall that surrounded the grounds. Each and every one of them were fanatics, loyal to the High Tar and to the protection of the commonwealths past, present, and future. The automated defenses of the facility were scanning the ground and sky for attackers. The whine of the trasporter gained strength and then disappeared, revealing in a slow flash of light, Flock Marshall Stonewall and his guards. He was greeted by the commander of the guard that was defending the FTI offices. He took a deep breath and looked around at the attentive guards around the perimeter. The crushed gravel walkway that lead away to one of the two temples crunched under his talons as he walked over towards the commander of the guard, his robotic leg hissing with each stern step.

“What is the situation here Commander?” He asked, just as sternly as he would if he was talking to a military officer.

“Flock Marshall, those freedom freaks drove right at us and we made them pay the butchers price. They were all civilians though, no military” The commander stated crisply.

That did not surprise Stonewall, from the reports he had gotten during his escape from FLOCKCOMM, a lot of the initial attacks had been made by civilians, but now that more information had come in, he knew that it reached further afield. The entire commonwealth was ripping itself apart and he had to try to hold it together with the strings that he had left in his hands.

“Set your defenses tightly and let me know if anything changes. I am going into the offices and preparing to retake the city” Stonewall said.

The commander saluted and returned to his troopers and began to shout orders to them. Stonewall and his guards set out towards the offices. As they walked he began to go over the messages that were streaming in from across the system. His immediate concerns was to secure the city and get the High Tar to safety. From the messages that he was receiving the entire city was in turmoil. The entire guard corps had turned, overrun the spaceport district and was marching upslope with all of their artillery and armor. One of the Guard Grenadier regiments was actually committing against the embassy district, bringing their attached artillery, as light as it was (a series of three inch guns and pulse phaser mounts) into the fight around the embassies. It was going to be a hard nut to crack, plus with the other units and parts of units that had turned he was dealing with at least a corps and a half of trained and hardened troops, on top of the thousands of civilians and from what some of his reports were saying, there were a lot of offworlders that were getting involved. Some reports from the embassy district said that there were Setulans that were joining the freedom party attackers. Perhaps his fears were true, the Exiles had brought their war here to Pokos or had they been the masterminds behind all of this.
His reports from orbit were even worse. The guard fleet had been caught off guard. What part of the fleet that was not out on patrol around the edges of the system, had been in orbit tanking up on their deturium tanks and restocking their warp plasma supplies. The Poksoain Pride herself, the flagship of the Pokosian space fleet was now a limping wreck. The rest of the fleet was torn. Some ships turned, others stayed loyal, others stayed neutral, or were too damaged to even participate in the massive firefight that was developing in orbit. It was chaos. All across Pokos and Plaktea the situation was similar. The army corps were torn apart and fighting, the ocean navies either sat in port or were out at sea in similar situations. Not long after FLOCKCOMM had been abandoned the rebels had turned the planetary defenses against the loyalists.

Once he had walked to the steps of the offices he turned and looked upslope at the Humbistean District. The royal palace was on fire, fighting was clearly raging all around the palace and the surrounding districts. Stonewall was not surprised, if he had been leading the attackers that is where the main strike would fall. He turned to one of his attendants as he began dictate orders. His only idea was to deny the enemy the sky. Something that in the past was very important, being that the Pokosian race was an avian race. Also something not done in centuries that would not only put thousands of civilians lives at risk but perhaps save the city.

“Activate the cities air defenses and order all airborne craft to land or risk taking fire. Lock the defenses with my personal code. This may be at least one way to be able to slow the attacks until we can consolidate” Stonewall stated.

The orders were carried out at once. He entered the building as all across the city sirens began to wail. Ancient sirens that had last been sounded over four hundred years ago during the Great Schisim. These sirens had struck fear in all Pokosian hearts during those dark times. There were many that still dreaded that sound. Even Stonewall dreaded it, but in the end, it was necessary. Along with those wails messages were being blared over every channel that could be heard, the same message that echoed in those dark days in the past. The attendant didn’t even bother to change the text. As that message flashed all across the city the hidden defenses that had not even seen the light of day for hundreds of years rose up out of their housings, that in some cases had been forgotten and built over, and began to point their nasty snouts skyward. Moments after that, the sky began to fill with thousands of bolts of energy flashing skyward towards fighters that were dodging and fighting each other, civilian craft that had not heeded the warning, and anything that the weapons sensors picked up. Some of the weapons were even older than the phaser turrets that were throwing their dangerous bolts into the sky. Some of the ancient weapons were throwing projectiles into the sky and bursting in black puffs of smoke that indicated the round exploding with extreme force. All across the city craft shot towards the ground for safety, some didn’t make it, while others burned away from the city in every direction. The air had been denied to the enemy, but it had also been denied to friend as well.


//<Message start>// BY ORDER OF FLOCK MARSHALL STONEWALL<> ALL AIR CRAFT AND STARSHIPS IN THE ATMOSPHERE ABOVE TRAQUIETEL<> LAND OR RISK DESTRUCTION <> AUGMENT ATTACK//error// REBEL ATTACK//<Message end>//

Stonewall clicked his beak in solemn approval. He made a quick prayer to Thun’Dear Baird and the ‘Cstain god that all those that were innocent would be spared a painful death. That was all he could do for them for his task forced him to be callus and focused on the protection of the commonwealth and the High Tar, casualties were expected.

Augesh 13 2630 SFY,
City of Tranquietel, Pokos
Humbistean District


The air in the great hall was full of debris, smoke, and death. Lucksee blessed all of the gods and goddesses that may have been looking over him and his friends. Even though he was bleeding from multiple places and he could tell that he had at least had a few broken bones he was glad that he was still alive. Some of the thoughts that was racing through his mind were feelings of exhilaration, aspects of his military career that he had left for the work of diplomacy many years go. Other feelings included fear and dread. His good friend was wounded, his High Tar was either dead or dying, and his entire world was falling apart as he knew it. As he looked about the ring of Sword of the Tar troopers that were now around the High Tar, Enomoto, and the few survivors of the attack that were near the dias. That was comforting. He could not help but agree with the troopers that now surrounded them, making their escape to the FTI offices was probably the best choice. His monarch was in jeopardy, be that Armerelos, or Enomoto, wherever the crown laid now. He had to assume that Enomoto was the last remaining noble, even though he saw some lesser nobles, even the wife of the High Tar being escorted away by attendants, but Enomoto was the last of the royal flock still conscious. Lucksee changed his tone to that of a person addressing his monarch.

“Unfortunately, They are right your majesty, if this is something more than just a terrorist attack, we must get to the offices with haste. From what I can see and the entire Royal Flock has been wiped off the face of the universe. You are it, should Armerelos be unable to continue. We can address your change of status at a safer location, but if we do not move now we will have to possibly bury two High Tars today” Lucksee said with a grimace, pain shooting up his neck.

Lucksee’s point was made whole as the battle outside of the palace seemed to get louder and he could hear the distant ring of the bugle and the clang of metal on metal. The leader of the guard out in the forum must have been getting desperate if he chose to launch a charge in the middle of an attack.

“We can perform a site to site transport once we get clear of here” One of the Sword stated as he was cleaning the blood off of his saber before sheathing it.

The sound of battle began to die away, only the sound of an occasional shot and screech of pain, then silence. Lucksee began to panic slightly as he tended to his own wounds while a executive decision could be made on the fate of the incumbent High Tar. The medics tending to Armerelos were getting worried too, even though the monarch was stabilized, he needed to get to medical attention soon or he would go to the underworld.

Lucksee’s thoughts were broken by the sound of a runner who had bandages around his left eye who obviously had come from the battle in the forum. He looked like he was frazzled but he appeared to be in good spirits. The ambassador did not know whether to be happy or dreadful by the appearance of the runner but it was the news that he had to share that made Lucksee feel a little better.

“My gods!” the troopers exclaimed as he saw the High Tar on the ground but gathered his composure “Sirs, Captain Pyteck wishes me to inform you that the palace is secure for the time being, he can hold for a little while longer and he has bought the palace time for reinforcements to arrive”

“Thank you trooper” Lucksee stated.

The trooper saluted the former Flock Marshall and now Ambassador and turned to rush away on his duties, which was most likely to spread the word. If that did not point a point on the matter nothing else would. The palace would have to be evacuated, or prepare for an extended siege.His thoughts were broken however, by the sudden flashes of light and sounds of bursting explosives that were echoing through the massive broken windows of the palace. It took him a while to realize what had happened. The automated city defenses had been activated, all of them, even the ones that had been on the grid yet lost to time by the centuries that had passed since their last use. That would explain the fact that there was flack busts becoming visible against the dusk sky. The last light of Trelani and Trelanios were coming in through the same broken windows, making all of the dust and material in the air light up in pillars, one of which landing on the group that included Lucksee. Heralds of the three religions and the many gods of the Pokosian people would call that a favorable sign from the gods. Be that as it may, it was still beautiful.

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


Pyteck stared down the incoming attackers with a fierce gaze. Feelings of hatred and anger rose from his breast, bubbling hot and frothy from his heart and up into his throat. He could barely hold back his anger from bursting out from his beak. He needed to stay poised as his troopers poured one volley after another into the attackers. Casualties had been high so far. The attacking freedom party rebels had taken a heavy hit as they had charged up the boulevard towards the gates. After the initial volley and the dozen or so attackers that fell the attackers started to use cover as they advanced. As it was now, they were at the edge of the district. The troopers that he had at his disposal, had taken hits too. The energy shields that they held still protected them, but from the fire that was being returned was causing hurts. He had a dozen down, a few wounded fighters, and yet a couple of others that were pulled off of the main line and put to duties behind the main battle line to help dig secondary defenses and stack supplies.

The attacks that the rebels throwing at defenders, were well coordinated, but poorly executed. They would start well, pushing forward in waves and making it into the edges of the forum inside the gates but the Gatling phasers would mow them down and make it impossible to push further forward. They lacked artillery, which was a blessing. From the report that he got from a runner that had sprinted from the FTI office had informed him that he had almost an entire corps of guards marching his way and he was going to either abandon his position or dig in an fight for his life. Pyteck looked occasionally towards the silk banners that fluttered to his right. It made him feel proud to be a member of the Sword. It also made him want to prove everyone that the Pyteck family was one that was not full of cowards and idiots. He had to throw his enemies back so that he could have some time to strengthen the defenses of the district and give him time to rest his troopers.

Pyteck racked his brains for tactics, moves, stratagems that would help him in this endeavor. Years and years of military schooling and service and he could not think of anything at first. Even as he racked his memories of his experiences as a trooper during the Dannaversian War. His officers then would opt to attack instead of defend, perhaps that was the answer here. He started to go over the statistics in his head. He had now a total of one hundred battle ready troopers, a reserve of about another fifty, with the walking wounded he had almost two whole battalions at his disposal here at the forum. The decision was made. Attack, that was his only option to give himself, and those still working inside the palace to save lives time do finish their work.

“CEASE FIRE!” He shouted over the din of battle. His entire line went silent. The only sounds coming from the wind and the weapons of the rebels.

“BATTALION! DRAW SABERS!” Pyteck shouted.

All down the battle line the staff phasers were all slung over the back of the troopers and the ting of metal on metal as they drew their sabers. That metal on metal sound was accompanied by the troopers shouting in unison.

“PREPARE TO CHARGE!” Pyteck shouted the preparatory charge. The flag bearer stepped back a bit behind the line.

Pyteck once again made a prayer to whatever deity that would listen. He hated himself, he hated the fact that he was turning his soldiers against the citizenry of the commonwealth. He had fought alien invaders, he had fought pirates, but never did he have to raise his hand against his own people. He remembered the stories his father told him about the first few days on Ranus, and how the campaign had begun in disaster when he had led his regiment to destruction. Johm himself hadn’t made it to Ranus until the campaign was well underway. After the first sharp engagements that had occurred. After the silent prayers the he made, he turned to his bugler.

“Bugler, sound the charge”

The sweet, clear notes echoed off of the walls of the Humbistean District, one note after a number, crisply. The notes rang in his ears, and released the inner anger that he had been suppressing during the fight.

“CHARGE!” Pyteck screeched loudly.

With the end of the bugle call the silence that had fallen was broken by the order and the shout of the troopers. On they rushed, sprinting down the road screaming and shouting their hearts out, their sabers flashing in the waning daylight. The battalion colors waving briskly with the advance and it made him proud to see but his attention was on the task on hand. Only to be broken by the sound of his troopers washing over the first of the freedom party rebels. The freedom party stalwarts fought hard, knots of them held off of the charging Sword for a few moments before they were overrun. That was until a group of the freedom party rebels formed a battle line of their own and began to pour fire into the charging troopers. Pyteck shouted as he cut down another Pokosian that was trying to use the butt of a rifle to knock him off balance. The sword cut through and snapped bone with a sickening greenwood snap. His troopers clashed with the freedom party battle line for a few moments with a flash of saber and phaser. It lasted for a few moments before the freedom party stalwarts began to fall back ever so slightly. That is when Pyteck saw it.

His troopers had spent the last hour fighting with every fiber of their being to protect the High Tar and the palace, but he could see that they were wavering. Even though they had the spirit to fight more, but their bodies were exhausted from an hour of hard fighting. They had gained what they needed. Time, he had to pull his men back before they got over their heads. Pyteck looked around for his bugler, who he found quickly, cut in half and smoldering from a phaser burst. With that avenue he looked for his flag bearer, that was now removing the end of the flag from the chest of a freedom party stalwart. Pyteck rushed over to the flag bearer and began to shout at the top of his lungs.

“RETIRE, BATTALION RETIRE!”

His troopers pushed further downhill, following the slowly retreating freedom party rebels but the few that did hear his shouted order started to fall back slowly, covering their retreat with their shields and firing their phasers as they went.

“RALLY DAMNIT!” Pyteck shouted.

Those that did not hear the first order heard the second through the din of battle. The rest of the battalion began to pull back, sheathing their sabers and falling back in good order back over the broken streets and bodies back to their starting place. Some carrying their wounded comrades back to the Humbistean District. Pyteck counted the amount of troopers that were coming back, and he was not happy from what he was seeing. The charge and the fight before had exacted a telling toll on the Sword troopers but Pyteck was pleased with the results that he had exacted. The freedom party attackers had been thrown back and were doing the same as he was doing now. They were licking their wounds and pulling away from the district and hiding in the alleys and streets that were off of the main boulevard. Pyteck turned to a trooper that was nursing a wound to his wing.

“Trooper, get a message to Flock Marshall Stonewall and the guards in the palace, the enemy has been pushed back momentarily. Another attack is most likely imminent and we require reinforcements if at all possible if we are to hold” Pyteck ordered.

The trooper saluted and turned on his heels, disappearing into the palace. Pyteck prayed that he would be able to hold back another attack. He also had a feeling that he would be praying a lot today. The Pokosian officer that had lead the defense of the forum and the main entrance to the Golden Hall looked around the Humbistean district. It had stood for centuries, survived sieges, famines, droughts, diseases, the augments and it showed on every stone, every statue, pillar had seen it all. The crenellations on the old cyclopean walls that surrounded the district were capped with roofs and ceremonial spikes that represented the ancient defenses that protected the walls and its defenders from aerial attackers. During the days that the walls had been practical, those spikes were not ceremonial, but functional. In ancient times each tower was a enclosed fortress, filled with weapons that could fill the sky death to bring down any flying attackers. Now they were filled with offices, but some of those towers still held phaser turrets that took the place of the slingers, giant crossbows, and the like that had once defended palace. Pyteck decided that even if he could not hold, these walls would still stand, but he would be damned if he would let the rebels destroy the sanctity of this place. His thoughts were broken by the sudden appearance of flack and phaser bursts filling the sky. He nodded in approval. That meant that the rebels would not be able to use the sky to their advantage. A good sign indeed.

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The fire was horrendous. Every time Madison poked her head up above the broken wall that she was hiding behind a phaser bolt would fly by forcing her to take cover once again. Her beak was cracked, her wing singed, and her talons sore from fighting up the royal boulevard towards the Humbistean District. What she had envisioned as a glorious charge into the palace and the arresting of the High Tar had not happened. The bomb had gone off, most assuredly many were dead, but she did not know if the High Tar had been killed. Her column did not storm the district. The officer in charge of the guard knew what he was doing, and he was doing a good job at it. He had hid two Gatling phasers on his flank. She had lost dozens in that first attack. She had urged her people forward several more times but to no avail. Then the Sword charged and forced her column back on their heels. That is when she had gotten her beak cracked. The flat side of a saber hitting it as she dodged the blow, taking her own dagger and plunging it into the throat of the owner of the saber that had cracked her beak. The Sword had stopped its push and had fallen back, but that did not mean that the defenders were not still fighting. Far up ahead she could see that the defenders were piling up debris and other items as a barricade and the nasty snouts of the Gatling phasers were now pointing down the street, sweeping it with fire every time a freedom party stalwart was visible. Sharpshooters were on the walls of the district taking pot shots at those like her that were taking cover.

She got on her communicator that she had on her belt and pulled it out. She had not heard anything from any of her compatriots in some time. She expected that to be the case considering that the battle was raging all over the commonwealth. She knew that it was going on in the city too. As her column was marching up she had heard a battle raging on the far slope near FLOCKCOMM, but the sounds from there had died away not long after her attack had commenced. The sound of battle also could be heard near the Temple District, near the Embassy District, and near the FTI offices. She pinged the battlenet that she had composed with the rest of the commanders that were sworn to the cause.

“This is Madison, report” She squacked into the communicator as another phaser burst flew by and burst on the wall of a building nearby.

There was nothing for a moment and her heart began to pound loudly in her chest. Was her column the only one that was still active? What was going on?

“Madison, this is second column, we have taken FLOCKCOMM. Flock Marshall Jack’sean escaped before we could overrun the defenses. We are securing the location and moving on to our next objective”

The sound of the message made her heart jump. Her fear abated, more reports started coming in.

“Our attack on the FTI offices failed. We are regrouping” one report stated

“The spaceport district has been secured, Central Station has been severely damaged and we could not take it. The entire Guard Corps is at your disposal and en route to the summit to take the Humbistean District, out artillery train is coming along as well as armor and cavalry” Yet another report came in. This one was received with mixed feelings. The Central Station was the station that sat in stasis in the gravity transfer point in the joined atmosphere of Pokos and its moon Plaktea. Being that it was severely damaged, the massive station could crash to ground and cause all kinds of a mess on either planet. The news that she had an entire corps of elite infantry, artillery, cavalry, and armor at her disposal was a shock.

“Our attack through the temple district towards the summit got stalled, almost half our number got pulled into a raging fight around the foreign embassies, I see some Foot Guards involved there as well” a report came in from the last column in the city.

All in all, the battle was going well, barring a few failures. She had the Humbistea District surrounded, but not taken. The spaceport was under her control. FLOCKCOMM was hers, she hadn’t taken the FTI offices but even there the noose was tightening. She had over three corps of career soldiers, civilians, and militia under her command in the city and suburbs. Even though it appears as though there were some battles being fought in places she would rather not, even there the Freedom Party was making headways. She could only hope that things were going well elsewhere. She would find out soon. Her thoughts were broken by the sudden sound of gunfire filling the sky. Phaser bolts and black puffs of smoke began to fill every inch of the sky that was even then darkening towards night. The automated defenses had been activated for the city, by whom she could only guess that some lucky soul had activated them just before FLOCKCOMM had been overrun, or was this the work of someone else. She did not know. Either way, it took the sky from her and she could no longer rely on reinforcements or support from any airborne units.

"Damn them" Madison muttered angrily under her breath.


Augesh 13 2630 SFY,
PCS Most Serene Song,
En Route to Pokos


Singalee looked a bit frazzled while he was working over the controls. He was none too happy that he had to risk the lives of any possible loyalists by venting the atmosphere from the entire ship. He could only imagine that dozens that could not make it to the safety areas would die but he had no choice. He could only trust himself, his two companions that had helped him reach here, and the gods in the heavens. His fingers flung over the console as he hit the last few commands before he executed the action. With an single beep the entire ship began to vent atmosphere. The hiss could be heard from outside the door of engineering as all of the air was sent out of every open shuttlebay, airlock, and other openings into the dark of space. As all this was going on Singalee stepped back and leaned against the railing that was around the glowing warp core and took a deep breath. He was going to have to find the first temple or church that he could when he got planetside and beg for forgiveness. There were many gods that oversaw the underworld, perhaps he would have to find one that would help him come to terms with his actions.The console beeped loudly to indicate that all of the atmosphere had finally been vented. All but the few sections of the ship that were specifically designed to act as internal lifeboats were void of all life, and all air, growing colder by the second.

It was not that Singalee did not expect the incoming message, he did expect one, but this one had come in rather quickly. When he found out who the sender was he was nearly estatic. Perhaps he would not be stuck out here drifting for weeks. He immediately hit the comms button to respond.

“Incoming vessel. This is Flock Marshall Singalee, commander of the Pokosian Commonwealth Military. I concede to your request and are prepared to be boarded”

Singalee looked over at his saviors and gave them an avian smile.

“Your people are fast. I was thinking I might get the pie for free” Singalee stated deadpan, only to break into a mirthful cackle at the ancient joke that he had uttered. He felt the tension that had built up in him melt away and felt much more comfortable now that help was within reach.
Proud Barony of the Galactic Empire
FT: Pokosian Commonwealth
MT: Commonwealth of O Boyce
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Xiscapia
Postmaster-General
 
Posts: 12868
Founded: Mar 13, 2007
Democratic Socialists

Postby Xiscapia » Thu Jan 15, 2015 1:06 am

Augesh 13, 2630 SFY (Y.O.O.R. Emperor Foxfire Rose 27)
Humbistean District of Tranquietel
Royal Palace


Flinching low as another wave of rebel soldiers burst into the hall, Enomoto joined the heavy crack of his AXES with the higher pitch of the Sword's phasers as more than a score of Foot Guard poured in from the side doors. He only managed to get a couple of shots off, both missing to drive holes into the palace walls, before the traitorous Pokosians literally dropped dead. Raising his head, he glanced at Ceyrn before lowering his pistol to point at the floor. If the Veela could keep doing that then they might just be safe from attack long enough to make it away, but, he reflected sourly, that only worked as long as you knew who the enemy was. By the sound of it outside there were much more than just the Foot Guard committed to the fighting.

“Unfortunately, They are right your majesty, if this is something more than just a terrorist attack, we must get to the offices with haste. From what I can see and the entire Royal Flock has been wiped off the face of the universe. You are it, should Armerelos be unable to continue. We can address your change of status at a safer location, but if we do not move now we will have to possibly bury two High Tars today."

The kitsune shook his head, but he didn't argue with Lucksee. "We need to get him out of here," he looked down at Armerelos, inhaling and then coughing as the smoke invaded his lungs. Hearing others entering into the hall his head shot up, fearful of another attack, but to his relief he saw it was the bodyguards -some of them, anyway. Torres and Mepou were absent, and he didn't need to ask where they were. Stuffing his pistol back into his holster, he turned to the medic tending to Armerelos. "Can he be moved safely?"

Bolton's relief at having found the hall cleared was destroyed in moments, and she reacted with a shotgun blast into the face of the nearest Foot Guard. The woman spun, Firespray up and ready, but by then the rest of the rebels had fallen courtesy of Ceyrn. Relaxing about three hairs, she looked down at Lorde and her breath caught as she asked about her guard. "We're going to get you out of here, ma'am," she answered her and looked to Ceyrn as he leaned over her. "Bandage her leg for the Ten's sake, she's going to bleed out," reaching into one of her compartments, she pulled out a medical kit and all but threw it at him, trusting the Veela and the two Alversian guards to handle it. Stomping across the floor, she slowed as she came upon a Foot Guard dragging herself through the wreckage, both legs trailing uselessly behind her, one good eye on a pistol just a few feet away. Planting a jackboot on her back to stop her, Bolton pressed her shotgun to the back of the avian's head and pulled the trigger, the blood spray painting the front of her armor scarlet before she stepped away, hearing returning as her dampeners compensated for the roar of the gunshot. That was when she found Torill.

The Boolean had been cut in half by the explosion, and where his legs had gone she didn't know. His arms were still wrapped around the box that was supposed to have been the High Tar's gift, but the force of the blast had broken the chest open and she could see the broken contents within. It had been an egg, a perfect sable with deep blue veins, Xiscapian colors to commemorate the symbolic hatching of another year of Armerelos's life and the friendship forged between the people. Now it was broken, one half lying jagged and hollow among the shards, all but destroyed. Trying not to look at how Torill's entrails streamed out behind him, she stepped over to the circle of Swords around Enomoto.

She stood by as the runner made his report, gaining some heart at the news that the attack had been beaten back. They couldn't stay here, but at least now they had some breathing room. "Ambassador," she addressed Enomoto, "we need to leave, now. The car is waiting and I have the keys to Ambassador Lorde's transport for the others. We'll make for the Xiscapian Embassy, it's the best defended right now and-"

"No," Enomoto shook his head. "The Flock of Temporal Investigations Offices are the safest place on the planet. It will have a large contingent of loyal soldiers who can protect us. We need to go there."

Shifting from one foot to the other, Bolton exhaled. She'd feel more comfortable at the Xiscapian Embassy, since she knew all the staff there were carefully vetted, but Enomoto had a point and there was no time to argue. "Fine. We'll go there. But we need to go now," she waved to the Sword of the Tar soldiers. "Give us an escort to the front." Turning back as Enomoto knelt to pick up Armerelos and gesturing to the medic to help him, she looked across the hall to the other group. "Quigley, Cantrell, time to move. Take Lorde's car," she tossed the keys underhand to Quigley, "and follow us to the FTI offices. We'll have to keep low, AA's too thick for flying."

Xiscapian Embassy, Tranquietal

It was all set up. The force fields had been erected in a bubble over the embassy compound, designed to let things through from below but not from above, the laser point-defense turrets were up and tracking for anything that might still try to come from the sky, the Maxellian was sitting out in the yard with its 120mm "Meteor" mortar pointed high, the grenade launcher that had been on it before was being set up on the embassy wall, a sharpshooter was lying on the roof with her "Deathspeed" rifle at the ready and Yemon's squad was stacked up at the gate. The fire still continued back and forth sporadically, with little change outside of a couple more dead rebels who hadn't been quite fast enough and now lay in bloody piles of feathers and undifferentiated gore in the street, but things were about to get a whole lot more active. The mortar crew had warned him that there would almost definitely be civilian casualties, but with no way to distinguish friend from foe and time running out it was a sacrifice that had to be made. They had little choice otherwise.

It's ready, sir.

Good. Commence firing.


With a heavy poomf the mounted mortar fired, sending shell after shell hurtling into the air to land among the buildings with catastrophic booms. While they sent debris flying and threw up clouds of dust wherever they landed they didn't explode, but rather burst into clouds of tear gas and oleoresin capsicum (otherwise known as pepper spray) that washed over the suspected rebel positions, hazing the air to burn their eyes and blind them, give them difficulty breathing and cause uncontrollable muscle spasms. These were mixed with mortars that popped smoke over the buildings to quickly flood the street, resulting in a gray-white fog that rolled over everything and reduced visibility down to less than a meter. The final shells that landed were air-burst mortars that spread hundreds of Battlefield Automated Sensor Tactical Interconnected Omniscient Network (B.A.S.T.I.O.N.) nodes across the area. They activated immediately, uplinking with the network of the Imperial Marines as they mapped out the area and identified rebel positions where they were found, highlighting and tracking them as they moved.
That was when the carnage started.

With the rebel positions identified both autocannons and the grenade launcher started up, flinging death into the mostly densely-occupied buildings as the Imperial Marines started them up. The autocannons gave their signature howls as the grenade launcher burped explosives to arc through the air, digging into the clusters of hostiles wherever they tried to hide. Up above the sharpshooter fired silently, picking off stumbling, coughing rebels as they staggered through the smoke, the Xiscapian soldiers unimpeded by the haze as their sensors cut right through it. Just below the thundering wrath of the Xiscapian guns, Yemon stood at the gates, counting down as he watched hostile indicators blink out of existence on his HUD. Three...two...one...

It was time, and the gates burst open to let the squad spill out onto the street, moving swiftly in formation to the two marked aircars.

"Go, go, go!" He could have "said" it over the neural link, but it felt good to just shout.
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Setulan
Ambassador
 
Posts: 1308
Founded: Feb 02, 2008
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Setulan » Thu Jan 15, 2015 9:18 am

Palace, Tranquietal


Bolton's response to her question - or rather non response - was all the answer Lorde needed as to the fate of Torres. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she looked at the Alversian kneeling over her. She barely noticed the arrival of more Foot Guards as they were cut to pieces, her mind preoccupied by the loss of her bodyguard. Then Ceryn leaned over her.

"I can dull the pain. You will be okay.”

The Setulan laughed bitterly.

"Yeah. Okay. Okay." Rubbing a hand angrily over her face, she looked fiercely at the lupine. "Do it."


Xiscapian Embassy


The Xiscapian attack littered the streets with dead, though there were more than a few unfortunate souls caught in the crossfire. Whenever the street was inspected, they would find only Pokosian corpses, all armed and equipped in a similar manner to the Freedom Party fighters elsewhere.

Down the street, from a different vantage entirely, a hooded figure clacked its beak in annoyance before opening a comm link off world.

"We held them off, but not long enough. They're on the way."

"Doesn't matter." The voice on the other end of the line was heavy with authority, even over the fuzzy and encrypted link. "Things are about to get very interesting...take cover."

Without another word, the Pokosian Exile leaped off the roof and strode down the street purposefully, the lights from the AAA casting weird shadows.


Bridge, SRV Carlyle


SRV Carlyle, Victory-Class. Hull laid in year 59, Republican Era. Completed space trials 60 RE. Number 12 of 168 Victory-class heavy cruisers purchased by the Republic of Setulan from the People's Republic of Alversia. Christened by Prime Minister Tempes one week later. Assigned to Task Force Reaver in late 60 RE under Captain Larra. First deployed during Operation: Liberator as carrier protection. Deployed as part of a "Long Guns Cruiser Battery" during the Inner Rim campaign. 4 capitol kills against Danaversian cruisers. Assigned to 2nd Expeditionary Force, Great Pacification, under Captain Yallo. 14 Capitol-class kills. Awarded Valorous Ship Commendation for actions at Oppok-9, where it held the AXIS line almost single handedly, destroying four Oppokan heavy cruisers and badly damaging the alien flagship at the loss of two thirds of its crew. In drydock for repairs 64 RE-65 RE. Assigned to Milky Way Galaxy Deep Patrol Fleet, 66 RE, under Group Captain Panthar.


They said that command of a starship was being akin to a god. What they meant to say was that being in command of a Victory in the Setulan Navy was akin to godliness.

Ever since they were acquired, the Victory Class had been an odd duck in the Republican navy. It simply didn't fit it. The crew was too small, its armor to thin, its role entirely different than the heavy cruisers that dominated Setulan fleet doctrine. Yet time and again, the Victory proved its worth. From pitched battles to skirmishes and especially along the frontier, the Victory was the Republican Navy's go to choice for long range firepower delivery...and for a show of force. To be selected as the captain of a Victory meant that you had proven, beyond any doubt, that you could think in multiple angles, that you could see the whole picture. That you could utilize every resource you had at your disposal to maximum advantage and waste nothing, because when you were in command of a Victory you could count on your engagements being short, vicious, and badly stacked against you.

Group Captain Panthar was a superb Victory commander.

You had to think of all the angles.

Looking down at the heads floating before him, Panthar began to speak in a slow, measured tone that screamed of his upbringing in the bubble cities of Veto.

"We have received no word yet as to the status of orbit. We must assume for the time being that space is held by hostile elements. As such, we will deploy in a defending arrow. Priority one is getting our troops on the ground to support loyalist forces. Priority two is ascertaining the whereabouts and safety of all AXIS officials. We can expect further AXIS fleet elements to arrive shortly after us, and they can take care of any major enemy vessels. We simply don't have the moxy to secure space. However, we are bringing the most Joes. Carlyle will run the point, with the Storms trailing port and Stings starboard. Punctan, I want you up and behind. Shut down all inter-ship comms of anything that looks hostile and lock shields with Liab. Marchamps to top cover. Remember-number one priority is ensuring Liab makes it to position to deploy its troops." He looked at his watch.

"We drop blink in thirty seconds. Good luck, captains."

The floating heads disappeared and Panthar leaned back.

Twenty seconds.

Ten.

The Setulan battle group dropped out of FTL into a scene from a nightmare.

Orbit was burning, that odd phenomenon in space battles where light ever so briefly fills the void. Titanic weapons were unleashed, and even as they first appeared a frigate disappeared in a rapidly expanding ball of silent fire. As per their battle plan, the Setulan formation fell into place and the Punctan began broadcasting a general disrupting signal along all the Pokosian frequencies save one. Shields active, drives pulsing and guns primed, the fleet aimed its weapons without making a lock. The massive turrets of the Carlyle turned to track in on the largest concentration of firing warships. Piggybacking on the massive power of the Ravikovi's EWS array, Panthar brute-forced a message through to every Pokosian ship in orbit.

"This is Group Captain Panthar of the Setulan Navy. All Pokosian vessels will power down at once. Any warships that continue to make aggressive acts will be dealt with severely."

Even as the message echoed through space, the fleet moved at battle speed towards the planet. A separate message bounced through orbit to the FTI and Palace frequencies.

"This is General Mor of the Planetary Guard to any command elements of Pokosian loyalists...sitrep required."
Last edited by Setulan on Thu Jan 15, 2015 9:40 am, edited 1 time in total.
"When you're as big as a Setulan, you can't go very long without breaking something. Usually someone else's face."-Xiscapia

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Alversia
Minister
 
Posts: 3240
Founded: Apr 26, 2007
Ex-Nation

Postby Alversia » Sun Jan 25, 2015 3:14 pm

Royal Palace

Ceyrn caught the bandages thrown to him in one hand and hurriedly but assuredly went to work. He carefully wrapped up the broken ankle, being sure to support it accordingly and to tie in a way that made it impossible to move. It would need to be removed soon but, for now, it was enough to keep her from aggravating the wound. It would need set in position fast, to prevent permanent deformation on the bone. With that finished and two of the guards holding position above him, the Veela put his hand on Torres’ forehead and looked into her eyes, forcing the Setulanite by some unknown means to look directly at him in turn. As soon as she caught his diluted pupils she was catapulted through them into a never-ending sea of stars beyond. It was like she was just floating in the middle of the universe, a star around which everything else serenely drifted. There was no pain, there was no real emotion at all. No sorrow, no joy, no anger, no despair. It was probably as close as one could get to feeling like a god, to have so much revolve around one’s being. Even if the Ambassadress reached out, the swirling lights formed around her hand, like dust caught in the sun.

Abruptly she was pulled from that place of serenity but the feeling of it remained like the burning embers of a candle in her mind. With that, Ceyrn scooped her up as easily as if she were a pencil and with that, the group rushed towards the Setulan car. It was pockmarked, scorched and dented from the blast but their famous engineering had done its job and the armoured vehicle remained intact. That was what Cantrell found when he slipped into the driver’s seat. He had no idea where the original driver had gone and, at this point, he was not the priority. The blonde Ambassadress who sat next to her opposite number and cooed sweet assurances to her badly-wounded Companion was his priority.

“Packages are loaded,” Cantrell spoke into his communicator, linked directly to Bolton and the other security members, “we’re ready to roll when you are.” Beside him, Quigley now held the big rifle in her hands, scanning out the windows as if expecting an assault at any moment.

Most Serene Song, Engineering

“Standby.” Was the only replay for Singalee’s response as the channel was closed. Not even the Flock Marshall’s pleased statements to his protectors and guardians elicited any response as both Rourke and Hill continued to sweep not only the ways in and out of engineering but the dead bodies that littered its floor and the other dark spots in the room. Though the Avian seemed content to celebrate, Rourke would not let her guard down until they were surrounded by blue-armoured Marines. Even then, she would not take their position for granted. Even if the ship had been vented, bar those areas set up as safe zones, there were no guarantees that the mutineers were all dead. They could have had life-saving atmospheric equipment on, for example, or they could have fought their way into one of the designated safe-zones and even now made their way to engineering in preparation to finish off the job they had started.

The minutes clicked on and still there was no word either on the vox or within the ship. Rourke did not let the ever ticking clock get to her. It had been a long time since she had let a clock get to her and it had been, in her opinion, a much worse situation than this. She steered her mind clear of the painful memory and back on the job at hand. Wandering minds led to deaths, she had seen it far too often before. She was sure Hill was going through the exact same mental procedure as her; locking down every door in her mind until only the end goal was in sight. Nothing else was needed. It was all automatic.

There were footsteps beyond the door, a deep series of clanks and thuds that came in rapid succession. It sounded like someone jogging. The sound was not like it had been with the spacers aboard the ship. It was deeper, heavier. Rourke gripped her pistol as a voice entered her ear,
“Falcon Lieutenant Rourke, Lieutenant Rearden of Marine Detachment Belleview. Open the doors. We have secured the ship.”

“Service number.” She demanded back curtly.

“WC3800294C.” Was the immediate answer.

Nodding to herself as her implants made the connection, Rourke looked to Singalee, “you can open the door Flock Marshall.”

First through the doors were two Alversian Marines, clad in their signature dark blue armour. They brought their rifles down as they swept into the room, lights atop their helmet blazing as they threw every dark little corner into stark light. Next was an equally heavily armoured soldier with the chevrons of Lieutenant emblazoned on his shoulder, flanked by two other Marines and followed by two more who stood at the entrance.

“Falcon Lieutenant Rourke,” The Lieutenant saluted, face hidden behind a black, sheer face-plate but undoubtedly a man.

“Lieutenant,” she returned the gesture.

“Flock Marshall,” Another salute as Rearden turned to Singalee, “the Song has taken heavy damage. I am under orders to escort you to the Belleview immediately for escort back to Malacus until the situation on Pokos is contained.”

APS Infinitas, Bridge

“Vice-Admiral, we are one minute out from Pokos. Setulan fleet has already dropped into the system. Shall we match their co-ordinates?”

“Very well,” Vice-Admiral Dean Harris nodded from his chair, wizened hands up under his chin, his deep, operatic voice calm and thoughtful, “put us alongside them. Match their course and speed. We will assume defensive pattern epsilon three until the situation is clarified.”

“All hands to battle-stations,” Captain Cereya ordered. No sooner had the words left the Alumina’s lips than the klaxons began to ring across the bridge and throughout the ship. As weapons powered up and shield generations geared themselves into action, Harris looked thoughtfully across the bridge and gave some thought to the situation he found himself in.

It was not a pleasant situation, although one that seemed to be more frequently coming up in the modern age as planets previously thought safe and secure found war on their very doorstep. The sudden attack on Pokos had been as unexpected as it was unwelcome but Admiral Barton had reacted quickly, as had the Setulanites it seemed. It was only a small force that could be sent so far away from Benedict or Sanoya with the Navy stretched so thin and Harris had been assigned to command it. This was a good decision was far as Admiral Barton was concerned as Harris had made his name in the Danaversian Wars by leading ad hoc units of whatever he could get his hands on into battle against the Danaversians to inflict significantly higher casualties than he ever suffered. From Corvette commander to Commodore, Harris had commanded every type of ship the Alversian Navy had ever produced, even down to the transport haulers that most officers avoided like the plague. Harris had accepted the position gleefully, happy simply to have a ship to command, something different from the others. Now here he was, leading another ad hoc force to Pokos to work out what was going on.

The Infinitas was not his normal flag ship was but the battlecruiser, he had to admit, was a damn fine ship by any standard. With the firepower of a dreadnought but the speed of a cruiser, it was the answer to the old mantra of outrunning that which cannot be outfought. Not only would the Infinitas outfight nearly anything it could face but when said enemy attempted to flee, the capital ship would have no problem keeping up.

“Dropping in five…four…three…two…one…drop.”

With a series of flashes, the Alversian fleet dropped out of transwarp already in formation alongside the Setulanite ships. Much like them, the vessels were in a defensive formation, lining up with the Infinitas and Bellatrix in the centre and the others fanning out to provide a three dimensional cone of defensive fire.

“Send a message to the lead Setulan ship,” Harris ordered in the same level tone as before, “Group Captain Panthar, this is Vice-Admiral Dean Harris of the Alversian starship Infinitas. What is the current situation?”
Last edited by Alversia on Sun Jan 25, 2015 3:15 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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O Boyce
Diplomat
 
Posts: 507
Founded: Apr 22, 2007
Ex-Nation

Postby O Boyce » Tue Feb 03, 2015 11:50 pm

Augesh 13 2630 SFY,
City of Tranquietel, Pokos
Flock of Temporal Investigations Office


The city was in turmoil, not to mention the entire Commonwealth. As Stonewall gazed at the holographic display of the city he could see every movement made in the city. It was one of the many security features that he himself had insisted on when the Commonwealth was updating the security of its cities, colonies, and outposts. Sensors all across the city was telling him where the worst of the fighting was going on. He calculated silently in his head and did not like what he was seeing. The officers that had accompanied him from FLOCKCOMM and had streamed in from all across the city were looking and discussing at the many other tables covered with maps, data pads, communication devices in the makeshift command post that was set up in one of the more secure rooms in the FTI offices. Neither of them looked optimistic. All of them were worried about their families, their nests, their own lives. The last time that this had happed to the Pokosian people billions died. There were a few that looked so shaken and distraught that he Stonewall would have to keep a special eye on them.

Stonewall clicked his beak in disapproval as he looked at the map closer. The fighting had died down some, although not much. The Humbistean District was still under siege, although the rebels had ceased their attacks on the district, but the noose was getting tighter. A whole corps of troops, and from what he could tell, the entire Guard Corps, was marching into position around the summit. Fighting around the Embassy District was still fierce and heavy, even with the setting of the dual stars that lit the sky of Pokos and Plaktea. The spaceport was overrun, the ancient Temple District was being fought over, with some of the more militant sects fighting more to save their temples and cult places from the Freedom party stalwarts that were attempting to push through. Reports coming from across the planet were trickling in. Cardinair had completely fallen, Volkin was under siege, Kaz and Weber were in total chaos, Pokos City and the city of Plaktea were in turmoil, Lat’Lorien had beaten back the Freedom Party stalwarts but the troops there were too worn down to give support. The moon Plaktea, which bore the seaside city’s name, was in the same situation. Lucksee Stead had no outbreak at all but Uttumo was a warzone. Orbit was no better. What little Stonewall could get was that the entire Guard Fleet was fighting itself, but there were random scattered reports that Alversian and Setulan ships were now in orbit. Those same reports were indicating that whatever ships that were attacking the loyal members of the fleet had turned and were now pouring all of their firepower at the alien fleets that had arrived in orbit, including the planetary defense grid that and platforms that the Freedom Party had taken control of. He had some sort of hope that the Poksian allies were there to aid the Commonwealth and not instigators. He trusted the alien allies during the previous war, but Stonewall was suspicious in nature, and worried that perhaps this could have been some foul plot. It infuriated him that he was also running off of a trickling stream of information, little to none of which was coming in from outside the Trelani system. As far as he knew, the rest of the Commonwealth could be overrun with Freedom Party stalwarts or alien invaders.

“Gods! What the hell is happening out there?” One of the lesser officers exclaimed as she slammed a data pad on the table in front of her.

“We have little to work with, so until we have more information we must fight a delaying action until we can get a handle of the situation” Stonewall replied, looking disapprovingly at the dismayed officer “Now all of you come here”

All of the officers that were present moved over to the holographic display of the city, the areas in red indicating that they were occupied while the ever diminishing areas of blue was where the loyal troops had held on. Markers in those colors indicated units that were moving around the city. A large concentration of red was forming around the summit and the FTI offices. One of the saving graces of the ancient mountain metropolis was that not only did the terrain of the city help, but the winding streets, passageways, and the like made it easy for the defender and hard for the attacker, even with modern weapons. Stonewall had a plan, of which he was confident would save enough time that he could consolidate the forces in the city so that he could take it back, then onto the rest of the planet. He wished Singalee was here, but until he did, if he did, he would have to make due.

“This is the plan as it is. We must hold onto the city. As of now, the summit and the Humbistean District is almost completely surrounded. The officer in command, Captain Johm of the Sword is holding onto the district but barely, luckily the Second regiment of the Sword was able to slip out of their barracks before it was hit too hard and is almost to the summit to relieve Johm. The Embassy District is surrounded, and pressure is building. I want to send some help but what little assets we have are barely holding on. As for here, we have the Third and Fourth regiments of the Sword plus a little Cavalry, Armor, and Artillery, but not enough to make a push too far. Not without these offices being overrun as well. We can’t trust anyone, any civilian, Pinkerton, Magistrate, gods knows who else could be a Freedom Party member who is reporting to that flightless nave of a leader they have” Stonewall reported to his officers “I want options here, anything to slow and or stop the Freedom Party freaks from wiping us off the map”

“Sir, I have a flight of SFCG troopers we can send to the Embassy District. With all of the hate going up into the air right now I know it will be difficult but we can make it there if the winds are favorable” One officer added and Stonewall acknowledged that with a nod.

“Could we not call up the militias?” Another officer added.

“Could we even trust them? They could be riddled with Freedom Party members” Yet another added.

That was a fine point. The rebellion was so wide spread that it could not have been localized. Who would possible be able to tell if they were loyal or not. How could he bring militias into the fold of the defense of the Commonwealth if they could turn on the loyal troops and undo any plan that Stonewall could cook up. Plan upon plan began to form in his head as he attempted to get a grasp of the situation.

“Ok, if there are no other ideas, this is what we are going to do. I want to hold onto the summit as long as we can. Make it look as though that is where we will make our stand. From there we will launch a sortie out to hit the rear of the troops that are surrounding it. If we can do that the Second and what is left of the First regiments of the Sword can break out and link up. If we can break the back of that damn Guard Corps we will have a fighting chance. Those are the only trained troops at the Freedom Party’s disposal that is large enough to make much of a difference”

There were agreements around the room, followed by the officers going back to the work of preparing the troops for what was to come. Stonewall on the other hand had other things that he needed to take care of. One of which was to meet an incoming convoy of heavy vehicles that had recently left the summit and was carrying some very important dignitaries that were going to be taking shelter at the FTI offices. Stonewall turned on his talons and walked out of the makeshift command center and out onto the grounds of the offices. As he exited the main building the fresh evening air flowed through his feathers and whisked away any sweat and extra heat that he had been dealing with since this rebellion had begun. Not the same as a bath like the ones he would fastidiously take every day as the suns would set on a normal day. Now, even though the suns had set and the last vestiges of sunlight was hanging onto the horizon, the bright flashes and blossoms of flame above the city made even some of the high festival days and their fireworks to be mere child’s play. The well-manicured lawn with the pillared crushed gravel walkway that lead to the gate in which the convoy was to arrive were all stark contrast to the ancient city that lay beyond the walls of this park like setting. All around a wall stood, not one that was nearly as high, or as ancient as that of the Humbistean District, but better defended with the best technology and weapons. Not to mention some of the best trained troopers in the Commonwealth.

Stonewall walked down the crushed gravel pathway and the gravel crunched under his talons and his mechanical leg hissed with ever step. It gave him a unique gait, that no one in the military could mistake and it was noticed by the guards that were at the gates in the wall just ahead of him. As he came to a stop the troopers that had set up a position at the gates of the offices grounds took notice. Some were perking up, focusing on their jobs, while others stared in wonder at Stonewall, with a look that usually small children reserved for heroes and celebrities. The officer in charge turned and saluted, which Stonewall replied with and then he looked outside the gates and down the road ahead that wound along the spur that the offices were built, through a district of temples, royal offices, and small scale government buildings. Not a main thoroughfare but Stonewall could see the peaks of the ‘Stain Cathedral St. Lucksee en Daer in amongst the high-rises and other public buildings.

Troopers had taken care, after the main assault had happened on the offices, to clear the dead, dying, and the rubble that had piled up in the street. Many of the surrounding buildings bore the scars of the fight that had happened here. A few smoldered and smoked from the fires that had broken out in them. It had been a tough fight but a short one. As Stonewall had arrived to the offices during the troopers that had been posted here along with FTI personnel had beaten it back long before Stonewall and the trickle of loyal troops had filed into the offices in an attempt to lend a hand the only place they knew would be secure. Now the streets were abandoned, not a soul could be seen. The fact that this was not a residential district helped that. It also helped Stonewall see the convoy that was getting closer and closer, their lights casting eerie shadows across the embattled landscape.

He could make out three heavy transports, along with four Type II phaser tanks that were escorting the transports. Also along with the larger vehicles were a half dozen speeders with the riders wearing the bright white plumes on their helmet indicating that they were from a mounted contingent of troopers from the first regiment of the Sword. No one was taking pot shots this time. The last time the Freedom Party attackers had attacked a convoy Stonewall had ordered the area to be shelled ever so lightly from the artillery units that had trickled into the office grounds. The convoy now came pretty close, as they did so there were a few shots that were made at them as it passed through the gates, one of the mounted troopers slid off of his speeder and hit the ground dead, his speeder shutting down and hitting the wall of the grounds. Almost immediately the guards of the gates began to light the area up, phaser bursts filled the air at any possible target. Not long after the soft thuds of artillery pieces lobbing shells into the buildings beyond and their accompanying explosions began. This little firefight ended as quickly as it began and the convoy passed the gates and skid to a halt just inside, casting up a little dust and gravel as it did.

Stonewall walked over and before he could say anything the passengers all piled out. He was shocked from what he saw but he kept his composure. Ambassador Lucksee poured himself out of the back hatch of the first transport along with a handful of many other dignitaries, not to mention foreign ones. It wasn’t until Stonewall saw the medical personnel and the stretcher that obviously held High Tar Armerelos II that the Flock Marshall’s eyes got big with shock.

“My gods Ambassador!” Stonewall stated in calmed shock.

“The Freedom Party bombed the palace as you well know, but we wanted to keep the story under wraps that Armerelos was fatally wounded. If that information got out, what little hold we have on those whose allegiance is still wavering pass over to the enemy. We are keeping our cards close to our chest as it were. As for now, he is stable but not responding. Comatose. So we had to take a step to secure the Commonwealth. As of a member of the Royal Flock, Ambassador Enomoto is as of now, the interim High Tar of the Pokosian Commonwealth” Lucksee stated in a rather harassed tone.

The Ambassador looked harassed as well. His feathers were out of place, his eyes watery with exhaustion and weariness. Stonewall could tell that the Ambassador was like many of the officers that he spoke with just before meeting the convoy.

“That surely cannot be Ambassador. What of the rest of the Royal Flock?” Stonewall inquired.

“Sadly, all are either dead or incapacitated much like Armerelos. The Freedom Party saw to that” Lucksee shared.

Stonewall took all of that information and stored it in his mind as he began to see the bigger picture now that he knew the careful and skillful planning of the Ambassador. With everything going on he had thought about the fate of the High Tar, but he had more immediate concerns and Stonewall had no wish to be a political leader. The military was his world, and he did not want to leave it.

“So captain Johm and the summit, that is just a ruse?” Stonewall asked.

“Yes, if the enemy still thinks that Armerelos is alive and holed up there, they will continue to attack there until we have to publicly announce that the High Tar is incapacitated and we will have to announce his successor” Lucksee stated.

“That corresponds with my current plan of hitting the Guard Corps in the rear as they invested the summit” Stonewall stated.

Stonewall took a slow, calculated breath, and took in the rest of the party that was now pouring out of the transports. He was shocked to see Enomoto among them. Instinct took over.

“Your Highness!” Stonewall went into a still and formal salute “Is there anything that you may wish to add that may aid us?”

Augesh 13 2630 SFY,
City of Tranquietel, Pokos
Humbistean District


The clank that the utensil that dropped into the battle ration can was an empty one, but also a filling one. Johm had finally taken enough time that he could eat. Ever cine he had led the defenses of the district at the outbreak of the rebellion he had been fighting, making serious decisions and he was frankly exhausted. He was worn thin. The rebels had tried to break into the district three times since the first attempt, but as the sun began to set so did the enemy attacks. That respite had not been wasted. He had fortified the defenses, of the forum and had helped set up a headquarters, medical tents, ammunition and supply tents. It was an undertaking but now the entire forum was filled with troopers moving to and fro. Johm nearly had a heart attack when he had gotten reports of an entire regiment of troops marching on the rear of the district. He was pleasantly surprised that it was actually the Second Regiment of Sword of the Tar that had made its way from the barracks just north of the district on the down slope. Now there was plenty of troops to hold the district from the rebels, that was until he found out that the entire Guard Corps had turned, not to mention that they were marching upslope and surrounding the summit. It took some hard work just to be able to get the royal party out of the summit and on their way to the FTI offices.

After all of that hard work he deserved a rest. So, once he was confident that everything was in order, he grabbed a can of battle rations out of one of the many supply crates and found a likely spot to eat as the suns set. He chose to sit directly under the now pock marked Column of Gashim, its mass and its bronze rams that dated centuries old. To celebrate a series of naval victories in 113 SFY and since then had been carefully cared for by the custodians of the city. The pediment that it sat on made a very pleasant spot to sit as he watched the suns slowly dip downwards towards the horizon, the only extra light being cast by the errant burst of phaser fire coming from the cities automated defenses and the bursts flack from the older weapons. Johm could not help to think about all the dead that lay now stacked like firewood outside the walls of the district, an order that he gave to clear the streets of the dead for military traffic. It wasn’t safe to be working outside the walls, and it killed his soul every time he thought about all the Pokosians that he laid carefully down next to the walls, covering him in the blood that he helped spill. Slowly, a tear began to slide slowly down his cheek and down the side of his beak. He couldn’t break down, too many people relied on him to get them all through this. His eyes, already red from the effort from holding back tears let a few more loose as the sound of the two seven inch guns that were now dug in at the entrance of the forum, with a clear, unobstructed view of the avenue that lead uphill, firing a few rounds downhill. He didn’t know where the shell will land, or whom on. That is what bothered him the most. He was purely a military man, and now with the rebellion it was extremely difficult to tell who was an enemy. Civilian casualties were not to be had in normal combat, but this was not normal combat. Nothing from this point on would be normal.

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

The sound of her canteen filing up with water was a soothing sound. The sound that Madison regularly enjoyed listening too from the stream that ran through the bottom of Sinners Gulch. It reminded her of her old home outside the city where her family lived before the Dan war. Long before her entire family was torn apart by her father’s mistake on the battlefield. It was a place that she missed, and she swore that she would go there one more time before she died. The Pyteck family had lived there for centuries, and now, it was a burned out ruin. It was burned to the ground by zelots after the war in the middle of the night. Prompting her family to move to Tranqueitel and start new. It had been a long day and it showed on her. Her body was hunched from various minor wounds and muscle aches. She had barely made it out from the first attack when the defenders had charged downhill. It was a brilliant move by the commander of the royalists, but it only saved them some time. The summit would be in her hands soon and she knew it. As to make a point on that the sounds of drums and fife informed her upon that. As she turned and looked down the street she saw the crisp dark blue uniforms of the Guard Corps marching forward towards the summit. One of the proudest and elite troops in the Commonwealth had joined her cause, and they were now beginning to invest the summit for the taking.

An officer, riding a speeder in full fig drifted off to the side towards Madison. He got down an saluted her in the crispest fashion, his Freedom Party armband the only thing standing out from the splendor of his uniform.

“Flock Marshall Song’weshee, It is truly good to see you” Madison stated after she returned the salute, on half-heartedly.

“And the same to you Madison. I hear you had some problems with taking the summit?” The Flock Marshall stated with a smirk on his beak.

“The defenders were rather stubborn. The closest I got to overruning the palace was in my first assault. We made it into the forum and we were cut down in droves, then driven off by a saber charge. We tried a few more times but we didn’t get any closer. Now from what I hear they have two regiments of the dammed Sword in there holed up” Madison replied with disdain.

“Would have been up this way sooner, but we are having our own troubles. Took us far too long to secure the spaceport and the bridges out of the city, then we had to make our way up here. One of my battalions got bogged down trying to fight their way through the temple district, while my Second Guard Grenadiers got sucked into a fight around the embassy district. As such I am sending the majority of my troopers upslope. With a substantial reserve down here. I am having the artillery set up in Tributar Park not too far away from here to the east and the armor and cavalry will be able to take advantage of any breakthrough that we can make” The Flock Marshall stated.

Madison took a swig of water out of her canteen and swished it around her beak to wash out the dust, then spat on the ground before taking another long pull from it.

“What about the FTI Offices, from what reports I have trickling in, there is a substantial force gathered there?” Madison asked.

“I am going to suggest that we keep it under watch, of which we can send a handful of our haphazard units to keep a guard until we can deal with it properly but I do not see much coming from there. Once troops from Cardinair arrive we can try to take it, but until then we will have to handle the city ourselves” The Flock Marshall responded.

Madison nodded and the Flock Marshall took a look at the marching troops before getting back on his speeder and following along, his command staff following behind.

Yes, the summit would be hers soon.

Augesh 13 2630 SFY,
PCS Most Serene Song,
En Route to Pokos


Singalee stood there in calm consideration when the Alversians rushed into the room. He knew that he was for now safe and for now he would perhaps be able to get some answers. He did have many questions. Perhaps his saviors would have some clue as to what was happening. From what he had been able to put together, the Freedom Party, which had been a political thorn in the Royalty’s side for some time, but had they really just crossed the line from political nuisance to a rebellion. He had just completed a tour of the entire Commonwealth and had seen every colony. He should have picked up more on this but with his work so all-consuming with the complete overhaul of the Pokosian military machine, he had little time to focus on civil matters.

As the Alversian officer began speaking Singalee already knew what he was going to say. At least in part. He was slightly dismayed that he would not be heading straight to Pokos.

“If there is no other recourse, then yes. My place is with my Monarch, whom I am sure is in need of wise council” Singalee said, letting himself be led away.

Augesh 13 2630 SFY,
Pokos Orbit


As the entire Pokosian Guard Fleet tore itself apart the rebels were thrown off guard by the sudden arrival of two allied fleets. The Royalist ships, which included the heavily damaged flagship of the Pokosian Navy, PCS Pokosian Pride, began to coalesce around the flagship as it limped its way behind the allied fleets, trailing warp plasma and debris as they did. The rebels, which also took notice of the allied fleet began to form as well, a haphazard collection of ships that included a pocket battleship, a few battlecruisers, some smaller craft, and a very wide collection of heavily armed and modified freighters. Along with the planetary defenses that the rebels had taken over it was a formidable force, but not something that could fight toe to toe with the combined weight of two allied fleets and the tattered royalists. All they needed to do was stall. They had a few tricks up their sleeves and a bit of help from the surface.

Once the rebels had formed up their fleet they opened fire with everything they had. Missiles, nukes, photon torpedoes, phasers and a multitude of other ordinance that was installed during the recent upgrades the Pokosian Navy had gone through. Mostly Xiscapian weaponry, but some Alversian and Setulan weapons that had been bought after the war and installed throughout the fleet. This fire was felt by the retreating Royalists. A corvette took a few shots to the stern and the subsequent explosions ripped the small craft in two, yet another ship, a cruiser, took a missile to the port nacelle and it erupted in flames and warp plasma, spilling a cloud of the warp plasma behind it. The Royalists returned the favor by returning fire while they retreated. The captain of the Royalist flagship sent an acknowledgement message to the allied fleet stating that they were following the demands they had made.
Last edited by O Boyce on Thu Feb 05, 2015 1:49 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Xiscapia
Postmaster-General
 
Posts: 12868
Founded: Mar 13, 2007
Democratic Socialists

Postby Xiscapia » Mon Mar 02, 2015 2:56 am

Augesh 13 2630 SFY,
City of Tranquietel, Pokos
Flock of Temporal Investigations Office


The inside of the Imperial Embassy limousine was stuffed with people. Enomoto sat with Bolton cradling her shotgun on one side and Lunessa on the other, the Alumina's snowy fur darkened with dust and streaks of blood trickling from her ears. She had lost all of her hearing in the bombing, and she stared at people's mouths to try to tell what they were saying, knees drawn up to her chest with her arms around them. On the other side the Pokosian medic from the palace sat with Armerelos on one side and Mepou on the other, doing all he could for the comatose High Tar and the wounded soldier as the air car maneuvered through the city under Songho's guidance. Lucksee was there too, along with two Swords of the Tar and three minor Pokosian dignitaries.

The car behind them held Clodagh and Vanessa, he knew, along with the two DDA agents, Ceyrn and as many of the Tar's guards and guests as they could fit. They'd picked up an escort along the way, four tanks and six speeder bikes, and Bolton had warned him to keep his head down, but he still caught glimpses of the fighting that had ravaged the city. Burning buildings lit their way, flak bursts illuminated the car's interior and more than once they had to take a detour around the husk of a speeder or half-destroyed barricade. Whenever artillery boomed close or the sound of shouts and phaser fire crept into the limo he just held on tightly to Lunessa, and she him. It was all they could do.

He was just turning his head to ask again if she could hear him when the sound of a phaser bolt echoed off the walls and the light flashed over the car's roof. "Down, Ambassador," Bolton pushed down so he hunched over, arms still wrapped around his mate as the others inside put their heads down or lifted their weapons. The car was armored and its windows were made of transparasteel, but there was always the chance that a shot could get through. His stomach lurched as the car sped up and more gunfire burst around them, followed by crunch of metal and a series of explosions. Then the limousine was skidding as it turned sharply and for a moment he feared they'd been hit, but as he looked up the kitsune saw the inner walls of the FTI compound. Heart pounding, he pulled up at Lunessa.

"Let me get out first, Ambassador," Bolton reached for the door and slid out, shotgun with her as she emerged from the car. When she saw Stonewall she nodded and stood aside, allowing the rest of them to filter out of the car from both sides. Only Armerelos and Mepou were incapable of moving, so the medic pushed the High Tar on a stretcher and Songho helped Mepou out with a wing under one arm. Standing off to the side with Lunessa, Enomoto watched as Lucksee reported on the situation. When Stonewall turned to him he was expecting to be sent off into the compound, but the Pokosian's tone made his eyes widen.

“Your Highness! Is there anything that you may wish to add that may aid us?”

I'm not Your Highness, Enomoto wanted to tell the saluting officer, but he couldn't. Like it or not, as far as these Pokosians were concerned, he was the High Tar, at least until (if?) Armerelos woke up again. Glancing at the unconscious ruler, the tod exhaled through his nose before looking back to Stonewall. "He told me one last thing before he went under," he said. "'Kill the bastards. No quarter.' AXIS will send reinforcements. If we can hold out for them, we'll get the chance to do just that."

Nodding, he deflated a little and put his hand on Lunessa's shoulder. "Also, we need doctors. My mate's lost her hearing, Ambassadress Lorde and one of my guards have been wounded, and, well," he looked back to Armerelos again. He needs to wake up.

Augesh 13 2630 SFY,
City of Tranquietel, Pokos
Humbistean District


As the two speeder cars bolted through the streets Yemon tried not to think about how long it had been already. All communications were down outside of the link he had with his squad, so he had no way of knowing where the Ambassador was or what his status might be. He could be safely hidden, or off-planet by now, but he could also be dead or, Emperor forbid, in rebel hands. There was no way of knowing until they made it to the palace. One way or another, they would find their answers there.

He was crammed in the back of the vehicle along with Ramas, the fireteam's heavy with a Silver missile launcher tucked between his knees, and Heather, the squad medic. Private Ima was in the driver's seat, the vixen having employed hotwiring skills that Yemon didn't care to ask about to get the speeder going, with the rifleman Jo beside her. The second car behind them held the other five members of the squad. Both chassis were holed and crinkled from gunfire and banging off of corners as they had driven past and through more than one firefight, but Yemon was just thankful that they didn't have to try to walk through the chaos. It would have taken them hours, if they could have gotten through at all.

Royal Palace, dead ahead, Ima reported.

Think they can tell we're friendly? Heather asked.

Probably not from this range. Here, leaning forward, Yemon grabbed a white hat from the front seat pocket. Raise the sunroof. The top window peeled back and the kitsune stood, holding the hat aloft as they drove up the street. "Warrant Officer Yemon, Kitsune Imperial Marines," he called to the palace defenders, waving the hat back and forth. With any luck the sight of the signature blue-black power armor, his verbal identification and the waving of the makeshift white flag would get them to hold their fire.
Otherwise this'll be the shortest rescue of all time.
Xis quote of the week: Altaria Almighty: how are you not just a race of sexual predators? Like who needs power armour and gauss rifles when you have leather and whips. –Karaig
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Setulan
Ambassador
 
Posts: 1308
Founded: Feb 02, 2008
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Setulan » Thu Mar 26, 2015 9:33 am

Augesh 13 2630 SFY,
City of Tranquietel, Pokos
Flock of Temporal Investigations Office



Lorde had been in a daze for the entire ride out of the palace. Carried in Ceryn's strong arms to the car, she had barely even noticed the banged up exterior as she was hustled in. Nodding mildly to the soft platitudes of her fellow ambassadress, she teetered on the edge of shock as she watched lights and fire flash by. The arrival of the group at the Flock of Temporal Investigations seemed to rouse her, however. Declining a hand to help her rise, Lorde limped over to Stonewall and Enomoto, Toal offering a shoulder for her to lean on.

"For Gods' sake, General, make sure you get in contact with the embassies. They have protocols in place, and I can guarantee that they'll be trying to send troops to the palace. They don't know where we are. They could be walking into a trap." She looked up into the flashing sky, seeing what looked like lightning in the heavens that could only represent the terrifying weapons of a fleet engagement.

"And try to talk to somebody up there. All hell is going to break loose..."



Pokos, Orbit


Within thirty seconds of their arrival, the Setulan task force was taking fire. The Pokosian rebels handily outgunned the hastily assembled Setulan battle group, and their weapons lashed out in a shocking display of power. The recently refitted warships dumped firepower on both the retreating loyalists and the newly arrived Setulans. Point defenses flashed and chattered, green lasers flying out to meet streaking missiles and heavy ordnance. A multi-gigaton nuclear device slipped through the AAA blanket and impacted on the rear section of a desperately evading Marchamp, Barca, turning the agile frigate to dust and killing all of its crew. The Smackdown received the brunt of firepower off of a duo of traitor Battlecruisers before it could lock shields in the bubble effect and began to ripple with internal explosions as mass-reactive ordnance penetrated its armor. The Storm fell out of the formation, its shields collapsed and structure failing, as lifepods ejected from its flanks.

Panthar remained calm throughout the beginning of the engagement and began issuing orders to his beleaguered fleet.

"All escorts to maximize defensive firepower. Keep the ships cycling, but ensure nothing reaches the Liab! Heavies to focus fire." With a thought, he highlighted one of the Freedom Party's two battlecruisers that had killed one of their own vessels. "Kill it."

The heavy guns of the Carlyle pivoted silently and smoothly on their well oiled gimbals and began flashing, shaking the Alversian-built cruiser. Massive shells soared through the void, joined by the Xiscapian-heavy weaponry of the Ravikovis. Shields flashed blue for several seconds under the tremendous firepower before they began failing and the fire took its toll. Turrets erupted off of the vessel in a flash and it began shedding armor plating.

"A shame." Panthar's voice was flat as he watched the destruction. "According to our computers, I know that ship. I fought alongside it at Ranus."

"Alversians dropping out of FTL!"

In a flash, the streaming hulls of the Alversian navy were alongside his own. It was a superb maneuver, a real-space transition that dropped their battlegroup within four hundred kilometers of the Setulan ships; point blank in fleet terms, any mistake could have caused horrific damage. It was typical of the Alversians to have such precision, and Panthar smiled as they assumed a defensive cordon that supported his own.

"“Group Captain Panthar, this is Vice-Admiral Dean Harris of the Alversian starship Infinitas. What is the current situation?”

The clipped tones of the Setulan were heard clearly by the Alversian commander as the Punctan's fearsome EWS array opened up channels between the ships.

"Hostile and deteriorating rapidly. Word from the surface is of a full scale uprising, and we are under fire. I am moving my battle group into geo-sync to aid in ground operations; I have a division of Infiniti drop-equipped for ground combat as well as my own naval compliments who will assist. Care to keep the fleas off our backs while we move in?"


SRV Liab, Command Center



The Ravikovi-Class Modular Cruiser was another foreign import that the Republic of Setulan had made its own. They happily used the massive EWS arrays of that variant to great effect, and the carrier variant was a popular choice to support deal patrol fleets when small craft support was required to a lesser degree than that provided by the Harm carriers. The troop carrier, however, had been in an odd place. The Guard didn't need any new troop carriers, as the Cobra-class was more than capable of planetary assaults and the navy had plenty. To ensure their utility regardless (and to maximize their profit potential), the engineers at Nakamoto shipyards had converted their planetary assault modules to aid in a very specific purpose - Infiniti Division drop assaults. Dubbed the Ravikovi I Model, they carried twenty thousand troopers, their equipment, and most importantly, were fitted to fire their specialized drop pods.

On board the Liab, General Mor - who had earned a reputation during the Ranus VI attack, when he had led Planetary Guard's defense of their surrounded drop zone - was looking at a tactical holographic overlay of Tranquietal and waiting for word from the defenders. He was planning for the worst, and quietly believed that his worst nightmares were in fact going to be the reality on the ground. He had brigades tasked with hitting and capturing the star port, palace, Flock of Defense, and Flock of Temporal Affairs already. In addition, his heaviest hitters in the upcoming attack were tasked with special missions. A battalion of SLAM were ready and waiting to drop on and crush the rebel's command centers.

And a company of Valkyries were in meditation, already in their launch tubes, to ensure the safety of the Ambassadress.

Not honestly expecting an answer, Mor tried to send another message to the Pokosian high command asking for a sitrep.
"When you're as big as a Setulan, you can't go very long without breaking something. Usually someone else's face."-Xiscapia

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Alversia
Minister
 
Posts: 3240
Founded: Apr 26, 2007
Ex-Nation

Postby Alversia » Mon Mar 30, 2015 2:07 pm

Flock of Temporal Investigations Office

The journey across the city from the Palace to the one place they could be assured of safety would normally have been quick, painless and rather serene. Instead, it was long, fraught with more danger than Toal would have thought possible and with much excitement going on out the window that the Alversian Ambassadress stopped wondering if the next interruption would kill her and just came to expect it. The acceptance was much better on her nerves. She had never been in a battle before so she could not compare this to anything it seemed as if the whole city was engulfed in bitter infighting. She kept her attention away from the windows and from the escorts around them who seemed to be under constant fire and dying for her sake and instead focused it on Lorde.

The Ambassadress was in a bad way, sitting lying across the seat with her head in Toal’s lap. Ceyrn was sitting beside her and had not said a word since they had entered the car. He had his head bowed and his eyes closed but she could see that his lips were moving and quick breaths were escaping as if he were murmuring under his voice. She was not sure what it was that he was doing but then she was not paying so much attention to him as to Lorde. She was stroking the woman’s dark hair and murmuring softly to her, encouraging the wide-eyed and shaking woman as she slowly descended into shock at her injuries. Up front, her bodyguards held their weapons in their arms but made no efforts to fire them at anything. They instead focused on their comms and they buzzed every few seconds with updates and reports she assumed to which her guards would reply or ignore. The whole situation was so alarmingly out of her control that she really felt rather lost.

When they pulled up to the Temporal Offices, Toal sat where she was and allowed Cantrell and Quigley to gently lift Lorde out of the car though she suspected that Ceyrn assisted judging by the strange and impossibly smooth way she was removed. Once out of the car though she refused the help of the medics who rushed to help her and instead hobbled towards Enomoto and a cluster of Pokosian officials. Toal went with her, if only to stop her fellow Diplomat from attempting to trying to walk herself and collapsing.

She nodded at Lorde’s words, they needed to keep constant communication with the inevitable arrival of AXIS forces to prevent friendly fire. They hardly needed more flocking to the banner of the rebels over a few incidents.

Seeing Lunessa standing behind Enomoto with the dark blood dried into her fur, Toal felt tears building in her eyes, “Oh Lunessa, what happened to you?” She reached out a hand to put a hand on her shoulder, almost stepping out to hug her before remembering the weight she was supporting on her own shoulder.

The Feline would be able to hear a voice in her head, a male voice that was soft and utterly calm, ”You have suffered severe acoustic trauma, your ear drums have been badly damaged. Try to relax and close your eyes.”

As soon as the Alumina had closed her eyes, she would feel a warmth spread over her like she had stepped into a bath. Her hearing was slowly returning to her, first the softest of noises but followed by the full spectrum of noise until it was if nothing had gone wrong, except for the blood that had dried into her fur. To the other side of the two Ambassadresses, Ceyrn had not shifted but he gave a careful glance to the female to ensure his work was complete.

Alversian Embassy

“Captain, we have reports of more rebels amassing by the south gate. They’re sweeping the foreyard with phaser fire. Lieutenant Tarrin requests reinforcements to shore up the defences.”

“Alright, get Moss and McClusky, move their piece to the south side. They should give him enough to suppress any push.” Captain Cahill replied in his husky voice.

“Very good Sir,” The Marine saluted and dashed back into the halls of the Embassy. Cahill watched him part of the way before turning his attention back to the sights of his rifle. It had looked like such an easy assignment when his unit, A Company of the 33rd Marine Division, 7th Marine Combat Group, had been assigned to the Alversian Embassy on Pokos as reinforcements to the Diplomatic Service personnel already here. He had thought they would spend their time performing drills and occasionally acting as muscle to rowdy locals unhappy with Alversian policy. Boring, but after the excitement of the Danaversian War, he needed some boring.

Except that now the city had gone to shit and the Embassy was surrounded, penned in by gangs of rebels who no doubt sought to take it. He had no idea who they were, how many there were or even what their goals were beyond the capture of the building. Unfortunately for them, it was the building which he was tasked to defend and he had no intention of letting them take it.

His defence was built around the main embassy itself as the expansive grounds beyond were untenable. It may have been ringed by a tall, white-painted wall but the buildings that bordered it were taller still and the rebels had occupied the top floors in a bid to go toe to toe with the forces garrisoning the complex. Luckily, they were not professional troops and there was little co-ordination. Two attempted attacks using wave tactics had been bloodily repulsed using mortars and heavy weaponry and now they were content to snipe and prod at the tiger. For his part, Cahill had absolutely no intention of leaving his fortified position. The three hundred personnel he had were not enough to force an opening and leave the embassy well protected. The situation of the Ambassadress and her guards were unknown but frankly, he was more concerned about the hundreds of staff and citizens hiding down in the shelters and vaults of the main building.

Across the way, an opportunistic fired a phaser beam towards the building. The shot smacked harmlessly into the wall but brought an appropriate response. The Ayers Infantry Fighting Vehicle that had planted itself in the courtyard turned its turret towards the source of the shot and fired a burst from its heavy chain gun. Hundreds of rounds impacted with the top floor demolished it in a fireworks display, leaving nothing but smoking ruins.

He had no idea how long he was expected to hold out for, but the good Captain sure as hell hoped that reinforcements were on their way sooner rather than later.

PCS Most Serene Song

“If there is no other recourse, then yes. My place is with my Monarch, whom I am sure is in need of wise council”

“You’ll be returning to Pokos as soon as possible, Sir,” Lieutenant Rearden nodded as they strode through the badly damage corridors of the diplomatic vessel. There were blue-clad Marines throughout the vessel, some of whom were standing guard at vital junctions while others were picking up the remains of dead Pokosian crew and lying them together. It was possible to tell which soldier had fought for which side by the bands around their arms.

It was a quick journey to the Belleview by shuttle, the Heavy Cruiser covering threateningly nearby with another warship that it was impossible to name from so far away. Rourke sat quietly beside Singalee on the shuttle along with Hill across from him. The Marines sat a little further away from the Falcons as if the mere presence of the black uniforms was enough to keep a gap between them.

Once they were aboard the warship, it was straight to the bridge. As it had been on the Most Serene Song, there were Marines positioned at all the major junctions with the flashing red lights indicating a red alert. On the bridge, a serious looking Alumina stood to attention as the trio entered, her markings indicating that she was a Captain.
“Flock Marshal Singalee,” she said in a heavy accent, “I am Captain Emene Jia D’Fanor. Your vessel and remaining crew will be escorted back to Benedict II. We have been ordered to join with other Seventh Fleet units to jump to Pokos. Have you been injured?”

Pokos Orbit

Harris was able to take stock of the situation as soon as they had dropped out of FTL right beside the Setulanites force. The sensors took a moment to process the situation as vessels on both sides were firing at one another. Normally he would have expected the tactical readouts to immediate light up with friendly and enemy forces in blue and red respectively. Instead all he was seeing were the blue markings of the Setulanite ships along their flank while the Pokosian ships before them were coming as neutral only.

“Darren,” Harris called out to no one in particular. Immediately, the blue figure of an Alversian male appeared in front of him dressed in the uniform of an Alversian Commander, “can you perform identification for us?”

“Yes, Vice-Admiral,” the man nodded and melted away into air. Immediately, star ships began to jump out on the tactical view as red markings and blue markings. It was a process that was helped by the shutting down of the loyalist forces and the sudden turning of the remaining vessels on the Setulanites.

"Hostile and deteriorating rapidly. Word from the surface is of a full scale uprising, and we are under fire. I am moving my battle group into geo-sync to aid in ground operations; I have a division of Infiniti drop-equipped for ground combat as well as my own naval compliments who will assist. Care to keep the fleas off our backs while we move in?"

“Understood, Group Captain. We’ll take the line. Over.” Harris nodded to his Captain, “Infinitas will fire on the pocket battleship, Bellatrix on the other battlecruiser. All other vessels will fire at will.”

The orders went out across the fleet nearly immediately. At once, the massive Battlecruiser turned her bow on the Pokosian battleship, the silver tip of the hull slowly turning until it was pointed directly at the pocket battleship. For those within, the familiar pattern began to start up. Their hair or fur stood on end, their teeth feeling tingly as the static began to build through the vessel. A deep throbbing began beneath their feet, the pulses building up until it felt like they were standing atop a beating heart. With a final, loud whine, the Infinitas discharged all its energy towards the pocket battleship at the same time that the Bellatrix emptied its own burst of pure energy, not quite as large as that of the capital ship. The other ships opened fire; missiles, heavy shells and energy beams filled the space between the two fleets as the Alversians pounded their enemies and slowly began to advance.
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O Boyce
Diplomat
 
Posts: 507
Founded: Apr 22, 2007
Ex-Nation

Postby O Boyce » Sun Apr 05, 2015 11:47 am

Augesh 14 2630 SFY,
City of Tranquietel, Pokos
Humbistean District


The anti-aircraft fire that had been lighting the sky above for hours that had made the sky look just like a winter thunderstorm now was only isolated flashes as all of the craft travelling through, above, or near the city had either been shot down or grounded by the intense fire that had filled the sky hours before. Now, the brief and momentarily flashes of ordinance was a deadly reminder that the city’s defenses were still very active, and watching the sky for anything that looked like a craft. The city that they watched over was not quiet or dark either. Good sections of the city had lost power, the parts that did shone like beacons in the night air. Smoke rose from much of the city, some accompanied by the flames licking the night sky with fingers of reds and yellows. It was pure chaos and Johm was right in the middle of it. The Humbistean District, the Royal heart of the city on the summit of the holy mountain and it was under siege by rebels that that wished to overthrow the rightful government and the monarchy that he swore to protect with his life. Johm, since the rebellion broke out nearly seven hours ago, had been forced by his position as a guardian of the Commonwealth to kill dozens of Pokosian citizens by his own hand and hundreds more by his orders. It ate at him. To be forced to destroy the thing that he loved most next to family. It ate at him. He hated it but by the nature of combat he was now the leading commander in this district of two and three fourths regiments of the Sword of the Tar. Holding back the rebels from plundering the palace was his job now. The rebels that were surrounding the district were of the thought that the High Tar was inside the palace attempting to organize a resistance. Little did they know that the High Tar, many of the diplomats from the celebrations, had escaped to the Flock of Temporal Investigations offices on the west spur of the mountain city. Johm was a ruse. One that was costing lives of his men and of the rebels that were not all soldiers. He was the holding force, that would if he could hold out long enough, distract the Freedom party forces from noticing the counter assault that was going to be launched from the FTI offices.

The attacks had stopped several hours ago when the suns started to set. Attacking at night was possible but with the kind of mess that the fighting had caused in the city the Freedom party forces needed to regroup just as much as the Royalist forces needed to. That is why Johm was standing by the two artillery pieces that were dug in at the gates, their snouts pointing menacingly down the avenue that led to the district. Three times the Freedom party stalwarts had marched up that avenue, exchanged volleys with the defenders, absorbed a few rounds of double canister from the pieces and melted away back downhill. They were not true soldiers, citizens that supported the Freedom Party and were using their few years of knowledge from serving in the militia to fight in what they believed in. Many of their bodies lay broken and bleeding along the avenue. Each dead and broken body one more crack in Johms’ resolve. He had to keep faith.

Down the avenue, Johm could see, with the aid of his field glasses, the Foot Guards who were preparing their position perhaps a mile, mile and a half downhill. He could see troopers moving bodies and debris out of the road, setting up positions in buildings on either side. Johm knew that what he had ahead of him was at least one, maybe two regiments of the who Guard Corps. A small fraction of what was surrounding the summit. The Freedom party attacks had begun to subside as the suns began to set and the twilight began to creep in. A night attack would have been ill advised at this moment. They were trying to figure out their opponents just as much as Johm was doing here. The luck part was, Johm did not have to worry about fractions of other military and pinkerton forces that were roaming the streets looking for somewhere to take shelter or link up with other Royalist forces. Johm had heard that there was a mixed battalion of Royalists that were making their way to the summit from somewhere, their origins forming around a small bunch of System Guards that were able to escape the spaceport before it was overrun. Johm had the summit secured; he had no flank, no rear to look after. He had internal lines of movement and could reinforce any breach with his reserves that he had stationed at strategic locations across the summit. That was a small blessing.

After looking once more down the avenue into the district, Johm excused himself from the gunners that were preparing a salvo to harass any preparations that the troops downhill were making. The artillerists did not have any of the foot soldiers sense about seeing the sweat glistening off of their opponent’s beak, they were more inclined to rain their death upon their foes like the gods themselves, and some even took the names of the gods as monikers for themselves. Perhaps it was ego; perhaps it was also some sort of deep understanding with the gods, that they too could be reaped the same way they were reaping. It made some sort of solemn sense to Johm after all. A few moments later Johm found himself walking along the inside track of the ancient walls that stood on the perimeter of the Humbistean district lost in thought. That did not last long when he was confronted by a trooper that was rushing to greet him towards the northern gate. The trooper had an exasperated look on his face, sweat and grime smudged on his beak and many of his feathers ruffled and out of place from the day’s labors.

“Sir, I will need you to come quick, there are some people there that say they are from the embassies. They are asking for admittance. We melted them to slag” Stammered the trooper as he fuddled his way through a salute.

Johm kept his composure and thought for a moment before responding. If these people were from the embassies, perhaps they were looking for their delagates, or even worse in league with the enemy.

“Have them come forward, keep a very close eye on them and any wrong move and I want them and the entire patch of road they are on melted to glass” Johm orderd.

The trooper saluted again and rushed off. As he did so Johm headed in that direction, curious to see what was going on near the north gate. Before he had gotten there though he could see that the troopers there were waving the people from the embassies forward. Johm could see that his troopers were not taking any precautions. A three inch gun was trained on the new arrivals, its snout poking out from a position that had been crafted for it. Heavy gunners had their heavy phasers on mounts along the walls and prepared positions inside the gates, not to mention the dozen or so troopers that stood at the ready to fight from cover as well. They were right to be cautious. The dozen or so dead bodies that laid resting in a line covered in a tarp was the result of a moment when they were not so vigilant earlier in the day and the enemy had gotten a little too close for comfort. As they were brought forward into the district, Johm pulled his pipe out of his haversack and lit it, puffing away thoughtfully to drive away the stress and worry that was predominantly weighing on his mind.

“Welcome to the Humbistean District, unfortunately the daily tours have been cancelled” Johm stated as he made a show of motioning around the area with his pipe “indefinitely”

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

The map room, or what was designated as the map room in this four story tall brick building used to be an executive’s office in this part of the Pokosian capitol. The company logo was all over the room, although some of it had been damaged during what Madison would call her ‘hostile takeover’ of the company and its grounds. The building itself was located in the Old Business District just outside the walls of the Summit. Some of the buildings here were ancient and had served many uses. Right now it was being used for the headquarters of the Freedom party forces in the city.

All around the table which held a very detailed map of the city stood military officers, high ranking party members, and high profile civilians that had flocked to the cause of the people. All of them were in varying degrees of shagginess, some having look as though they had not preened their feathers for weeks and others had minor wounds that had been bandaged. This was all good and bad. It meant that the movement had taken hold and was spreading rapidly, the bad news was that it was meeting very stiff resistance from the Royalists. She did not expect there to be so much resistance to the people rising up in the name of peace and prosperity. The Commonwealth had been dragged into far too many conflicts in the past decade or two since it had left isolation that it could be felt by all. Madison guessed that some thought that all of these changes and losses were good, even a necessity, but Madison knew in her heart that if this rebellion failed, the very notion of a pure Pokosian culture would be shattered forever. Something that had led to the Great Schism and the four hundred years of isolation, trillions of deaths and the loss of all but the home system. She would not let that happen again, even if it meant overthrowing the monarchy and killing a few thousand Royalists and off worlders.

As Madison gazed at the map, she was happy with what she was seeing. Not totally happy, but as happy as someone could be when they were winning. The map had red and blue markers all over it. The red indicating the Royalist forces, while the Freedom party forces were indicated in blue. There were two very large and strongly held locations in the city. The Humbistean District and the FTI Offices were the two heavily defended Royalist positions. There were some small enclaves across the city and there was the embassy district, which was becoming a bit of a quagmire. All around the Embassy District there were dozens of red blocks, with a scattering of blue here and there. There had been two large pushes by both Freedom Party Stalwart Battalions and a Battalion of Guards and all had been thrown back. Fighting had gone back and forth for some time there and since then another Stalwart Battalion was getting ready for another assault into the district. Madison had ordered it, anything to keep the offworlders on edge was a good thing, and it prevented them from breaking out and hitting the back of the Guard Corps that was setting up siege on the summit. With a sigh, Madison looked up at her fellow leaders and began to lay out how she wanted the attack on the summit the next morning.

“We have made impressive gains today. The Royalists have been cornered in a few pockets and all we have to do is take them. Earlier, during that last assault on the summit we almost broke their back before the Second Regiment of SoT arrived to shore of their defenses. They must be worn out by now so if we strike soon we will be able to storm the palace and take the High Tar into our custody” Madison began “At dawn the Foot Guards will open up with artillery on the summit, granted we will use it sparingly and only on hard points, to avoid damaging the historical significant buildings. The Foot Guards will march in from the south down the main avenue, the east and the west. A battalion will keep the rear of the district held down so that the Royalists won’t try to escape through there”

Madison continued, pointing towards where the FTI offices were on the map.

“We will have several battalions of stalwarts feinting an attack on the offices so that the Royalists there do not try to break out as well. They have a considerable about of forces there and if they think that we are making a serious attempt they will not try. Let us hope that the commanders there are not as ambitious and risk taking. We need to be on our highest guard. Flock Marshall Stonewall is still out there, his body was not recovered at FLOCKCOMM. If he is either at the FTI offices or the Summit we will have to work fast” She completed.

There were some nods across the room, several stared at the map so that they could better understand their part in the fight in the morning. Madison turned to look out of the window that looked over the street and some of the shorter buildings nearby. The window itself had been broken open during the struggle for this building from a small clutch of Royalists in the first few hours of the revolution. She had a slight twinge in her heart for all of the destruction that revolution had caused already, but she knew you had to break a few eggs to make some change. Now she just needed to get some rest.

Her mind would not shut off long enough for her to get much sleep, so she needed to wait until she could wind down. She ran reports through her head as she found her way to a small room that she had taken over for her uses as a place to rest. She settled in, removing her tunic and belt before lowering her self down to the nest of blankets that she had made for herself. The revolution had spread like wildfire. The entire nation state of Cardinair had risen up in support of it. The entire Corps of troops and all the military assets there were under the control of the Freedom Party. Including the Surface to Orbit defenses that had not been used in a very long time but were going to be a very useful asset and from what little she was able to get from orbit the battle up there was not going very well. It was too much and she was glad that she had people to rely to keep things rolling while she got a few hours of sleep.

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

There was a reason why he was called Stonewall. There was the military moniker that he gained during the Dann war, but a lot of people who met the Flock Marshall attributed it to his demeanor as well. He was stone cold. He showed very little emotion at any instance but at dire need. Even with the worlds dropping down around his wingtips he was still as cold as ice. His monarch was most likely going to die from his injuries, he had a rebellion rocking his home and all he could do was run numbers, tactics, strategies, and plans. He was a biological machine, a product of a strict upbringing, devout religious life, and a very lengthy military career. He had the incumbent monarch in front of him, he had a military to run, and with the lack of a proper and secure military structure he knew that he was it, he was the structure and he was going to make sure that his house of cards was not to fall.

“Your Majesty, as His Majesty Armerelos stated, we shall give no quarter to those who prove to be stalwarts. As of now I have a military plan in action that will buy us time until we get some reinforcements. We also have a few items that you may wish to address before settling in for the night. First of all it will leak out eventually that the High Tar is incapacitated, so declaring you the High Tar will go a ways to legitimize you and also having the Sword of the Tar proclaim you as such will go even further. Therein lies the next item” Stonewall began as he started to explain things to Enomoto.

“Ah, yes. The matter of a royal title. Every High Tar has historically had the option of choosing his or her royal title or use their own name. Now personally I would recommend that you choose one to maintain a Pokosian continuity and less cultural unrest from a technical foreigner on the throne. That is not totally necessary. It is something that you may wish to meditate on. As for getting your house in order, I can manage that. There were many that perished in the explosion and their posts now lay empty” Lucksee added to what Stonewall said.

There was a brief pause as Stonewall took in comments from the other dignitaries.

“The tactical situation is rather distorted at the moment. Very fluid and communications is very hard to verify and send on secure channels. Not to mention all of the interference that the rebels are throwing up to make things more difficult. Our data coming from what little satellites that are still operational and under our control show that there is a firefight going on up there and that the Rebels are taking a pounding from an AXIS fleet and Loyalists. I have a message on a loop being sent to avoid the city and its air defenses and laying out several safe landing zones outside the city on the valley floor. Bad thing is, with Cardinair fully turned all roads from the east could have a whole Corps marching down them” Stonewall shared “As such, we can only guess what we are able to get into orbit for our allies to pick up”

It was a mouthful, but it was all pertinent.

Stonewall took a slow, deliberate breath as he saw the dignitaries take in all of the information. As he did that medics were buzzing around the group and rushing all the injured away to the offices where on the first floor along with the injured dignitaries that were injured including Lunessa, whom Stonewall saw that Toal had already begun some sort of work on her. As a more troopers began to descend on the group Stonewall spoke up.

“These troopers will show you to some bunks to rest. Your Majesty, I have had some quarters set up not far away from the others. Now I must apologize, I was guessing that Armerelos would be here, so some of the preferences are to his liking. Especially the candied seeds that he happens to like. A trooper found a stash of them while they were evacuating FLOCKCOMM and I figured to put them to use. You should all get some rest and tomorrow we will begin fresh. I plan on launching my assault a little after dawn. I want to hit the enemy while they are still cooking their morning meals” Stonewall said, waving to the troopers who escorted the rest of the party to the offices and showing them the bunks and rooms that were made available to them. There was plenty of water, showers should they be needed, food, and privacy for them to do what they needed to.

As they were being led away to safety Stonewall looked one more time over the city and the troopers that were sealing the gate to the office grounds. Yes, the battle would be fierce tomorrow.

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

The Embassy District was probably one of the oldest parts of the city with the exception of the Summit itself. Many of the buildings that occupy it have been standing since the first century SFY. It originated as a place where the rich and influential built their grand nests and some of the oldest temples and shrines also dotted the district. Some of the old shrines are to gods and goddesses that no longer have any followers and have fallen into disrepair, their grounds turning into parkland with tall mallornis trees looming over marble and stone ruins. Tall trees and lamp posts line cobblestone streets and old stone slab walkways. Its age hangs in the air and thousands of years of history echo of the walls and ruins. There are now pockmarks and smoke rising from here and there where a phaser had grazed the ancient walls. In some places a few bodies where a fight had broken out, burnt out vehicles, knocked over food and consumable stands long since abandoned. The particular street where the current embassies now stood to all of the offworlder embassies was where the most fighting had taken place in this district.

Along Embassy Street walked a handful of Pokosians in spread out formation ahead a solid column of troopers and equipment that were marching towards the summit. They had been marching since the outbreak of the rebellion and all the way from the spaceport. A collection of troopers, Pinkertons, militia trained civilians, and veterans. They had a haggard look and the battalion colors that were at the head of the marching column was tattered and torn but still flapping proudly in what little breeze that was being picked up. Up ahead the Alversian, Setulan, and Xiscapain embassies began to loom and it was just about then that a rebel attack began. It started with a few artillery shells that landed in amongst the three embassies followed by wave after wave of phaser fire. The fire intensified as the column marched forward, the spread out skirmishers ahead of it moving with deliberate caution.

A loud screeching wail echoed off of the walls of the ancient buildings as a wave of freedom party stalwarts rushed the gates of the nearest embassy. While they were fully engaged there the skirmishers from the column opened up on them, cutting down a few of the attackers. Now the freedom party stalwarts were stuck between the embassies defenders and the marching column. Behind the skirmishers a bugle rang and the column of troopers shook themselves into a battle line two troopers deep, the rest of the column that couldn’t fit in the roadway formed another line and another line until there were four battle lines stacked in a row. Once that was completed the skirmishers slipped to the side. Another bugle rang and the points of the first battle lines phasers dropped forward over their energy shields that sparked and hissed as they touched each other. The freedom party stalwarts began to ignore the embassy and those that didn’t melt back into the cracks and crevasses of the district began to shake into their own battle line while still taking fire from the embassies. One last bugle call and a volley of phaser fire washed down the street and engulfed the half formed rebel battle line, cutting down half and sending the rest running, only sending cursory fire back as they ran. They were not professional troops and had no spirit to face a volley from professionals.

As the rebels ran, the battalion marched forward each step chanting “ARMERELOS!”

It took no time at all for the battalion to reach the gates of the first embassy, a small cluster of troopers including the bugler, flag bearer and what looked like an officer peeled off as they walked up to the gates of the Alversian embassy. The officer shouted over the gate all wall to be heard while his battalion continued to march up the street, two MK 1 hovertanks bringing up the rear, one of them pulling along a eight inch artillery piece on a makeshift hitch.

“Hello in there! We cleared the area for now!”

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

The battle in orbit had turned into one giant scramble for superiority. For what seemed like the briefest of moments the rebels seemed to have the upper hand. Their fire had not only driven off the Royalists that were now pulling behind the cover of the arriving AXIS fleets but the said fleets were taking a heavy pounding as well. With the destruction and crippling of several AXIS ships the rate of fire had changed. Now the Freedom party ships were separating their fire, the heavy ships concentrating their fire on the AXIS heavies, hurling a multitude of ordinance in the allies direction, filling the space between with missiles, nuclear ordinance, phaser bursts and the like, making a rather deadly light show. The smaller and weaker Freedom Party ships focused on the allies smaller craft, going toe to toe with the attack ships and destroyers. It was here where much of the action was. Dozens of Freedom party attack craft met their fates going against their AXIS counterparts but that was not to say that they did not do the same kind of damage to their targets.

The shields of the pocket battleship flared brightly after every hit but still held strong. A ship of its caliber was built for uneven fights. That was until the Alversians arrived. It was then that the battle went in the AXIS’s favor. With the two massive weapons fired at the Freedom Party fleet the rebels began to crumble. The pocket battleship’s shields flared brighter than ever before as it took the brunt of the Alversian fire before popping out of existence, letting the weapon touch the hull and nearly scythe the wing off of the pocket battleship in a shower of sparks, flame and debris. The power capacitors on the spine of the ship exploded in blossoms of flame as they overloaded and the ship slowly started to go dark as it’s systems struggled to power the ship. With one last burst of power the pocket battleship slowly turned, trailing all kind of floatsam into space and fired its engines in a quick burst and then went dark, drifting away from the battle and towards the joined atmosphere of Pokos and Plaktea. The rebel fleet covered the retreat of its only super heavy ship and a heavy cruiser took the brunt of the second Alversain shot, ripping it asunder in a glorious blossom of flame, sending chunks of it careening into a armed freighter and cracking the freighters back, splitting it in two and sending cargo containers spilling out into space like a deadly minefield.

The entire Freedom Party fleet was in full retreat, pulling away from the AXIS ships and heading closer to the joined atmosphere of the two planets, dragging the pocket battleship along with a few tugs that had detached themselves from one of the armed freighters and began to pull it further away from the battle as well. The AXIS forces had won this small part of the battle, which was not to say that it was completely over.

Augesh 14 2630 SFY,
Alversian ship Bellevue
Deep Space


Singalee walked calmly as he was led out of the Most Serene Song. He was a little shocked at how little damage the diplomatic ship had taken yet all of the carnage he did see as he was led to the airlock. He was just glad that he was in the company of allies. There was much for him to do and he did not even know where he would start. There was a rebellion going on back home, which much he knew. Plus the fact that it had spread far enough to reach him meant that it was a little bit more than the peaceful protests that he had experienced during his tour of the Commonwealth. He should of taken more of a look into that but since all of his reports that he had read on the Freedom Party indicated that they were just a political group that was active yes, but not violent. Singalee had been wrong, and perhaps because of his lack of vigilance his entire nation was in turmoil. He was glad to hear at least that he would be getting home soon.

He could not help but notice that at every junction on the Most Serene Song there were Alversian troops posted. Their black armor and uniforms starkly imposed on the bright white walls of interior of the ship. The same thing when he got over to the Alversian ship. Guards everywhere. Singalee was equally impressed with the bridge of the Alversian ship. He had only been on one before and that was back during the war, since then there looked to have been a few improvements but Singalee could not put his finger on it. When he was brought to the Alversian commander he knew that he was in good hands. This commander didn’t seem to even question his need to get back home.

“The sooner I get back home the better. I am out of the loop here and as far as I know this is a full-fledged rebellion. Is there any intel that you have that I don’t. As for injuries I have nothing a good nights rest and some alcoholic libation might cure” Singalee asked.
Last edited by O Boyce on Sun Apr 05, 2015 11:49 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Xiscapia
Postmaster-General
 
Posts: 12868
Founded: Mar 13, 2007
Democratic Socialists

Postby Xiscapia » Sun Apr 12, 2015 12:10 am

Augesh 13 2630 SFY,
City of Tranquietel, Pokos
Flock of Temporal Investigations Office


“Oh Lunessa, what happened to you?”

The Alumina's large, dark eyes blinked at Toal, but she shook her head. The bomb blast has taken my hearing- she started to say, voice appearing in the Alversian's head before fading it. Turning, she looked down at Ceyrn, frowning at the Veela as he instructed her. Heaving a breath, she closed her eyes, shoulders sagging and tail going still as she did the best she could to relax under the circumstances. Her moment of stoicism went unnoticed as Enomoto nodded along with Lorde's words.

“Your Majesty, as His Majesty Armerelos stated, we shall give no quarter to those who prove to be stalwarts. As of now I have a military plan in action that will buy us time until we get some reinforcements. We also have a few items that you may wish to address before settling in for the night. First of all it will leak out eventually that the High Tar is incapacitated, so declaring you the High Tar will go a ways to legitimize you and also having the Sword of the Tar proclaim you as such will go even further."

Enomoto hesitated. The thought passed that officially declaring him High Tar would only be a propaganda victory for the rebels, confirming the worst of their fears, but he knew he had no choice. If word got out that Armerelos was incapacitated and he had no replacement then it would be far worse for morale. "Very well," was all he could say. "If that's how it has to be, then I suggest that it happen soon."

“Ah, yes. The matter of a royal title. Every High Tar has historically had the option of choosing his or her royal title or use their own name. Now personally I would recommend that you choose one to maintain a Pokosian continuity and less cultural unrest from a technical foreigner on the throne. That is not totally necessary. It is something that you may wish to meditate on. As for getting your house in order, I can manage that. There were many that perished in the explosion and their posts now lay empty."

Only the fact that Lucksee was an old friend kept the tod from rolling his eyes. "High Tar will do fine, I think. That's not important right now. As for getting my house in order, as you say, I'd welcome any assistance."

“The tactical situation is rather distorted at the moment. Very fluid and communications is very hard to verify and send on secure channels. Not to mention all of the interference that the rebels are throwing up to make things more difficult. Our data coming from what little satellites that are still operational and under our control show that there is a firefight going on up there and that the Rebels are taking a pounding from an AXIS fleet and Loyalists. I have a message on a loop being sent to avoid the city and its air defenses and laying out several safe landing zones outside the city on the valley floor. Bad thing is, with Cardinair fully turned all roads from the east could have a whole Corps marching down them. As such, we can only guess what we are able to get into orbit for our allies to pick up."

"We'll just have to keep broadcasting and do everything we can to hold out until AXIS forces can break through orbit," Enomoto said. It was all he could offer. He had no military experience, and he was neither strategist nor tactician. "You do what you think is best, General. You have my support."

“These troopers will show you to some bunks to rest. Your Majesty, I have had some quarters set up not far away from the others. Now I must apologize, I was guessing that Armerelos would be here, so some of the preferences are to his liking. Especially the candied seeds that he happens to like. A trooper found a stash of them while they were evacuating FLOCKCOMM and I figured to put them to use. You should all get some rest and tomorrow we will begin fresh. I plan on launching my assault a little after dawn. I want to hit the enemy while they are still cooking their morning meals”

Looking after Lunessa as she was led away by one of the medics, Enomoto shook his head. "If it's all the same to you, General, I think I'll be spending the night in the medical center. One of my guards will be there, Ambassadress Lorde will be there, and my mate will be there. My place is with them. That being said, please let me know if there's anything I can-"

Before he could finish his sentence a dark shape dove from the smoky sky and nearly knocked him off his feet. "Sif!" he staggered and threw his arms around the winged wolf, embracing the great gray beast as she panted out huffs of warm air against his face. Her slate fur and black wings were flecked with blood and the sanguine stuff smeared against his robes when he squeezed against her, but Enomoto didn't seem to notice. "You're hurt too," he sucked in breath as he looked down at her heaving side, slick with blood. "C'mon girl," he put a hand on her collar, "lets get you looked at."

Lorde had already been helped off with Toal, so he was left with Bolton and Singlee. Nodding to the both of them, he led the Tyloai wolf into the main building, surrounded by a brace of Pokosian soldiers who led him in turn into the infirmary.

Augesh 13 2630 SFY,
City of Tranquietel, Pokos
Humbistean District


The two cars trundled forward, creeping to the gates at a pace that would have made Yemon nervous about being exposed if it wasn't for the cannons already pointing at his squad. He couldn't blame the defenders for being cautious though, judging by the corpses blanketing the streets they'd seen more than their fair share of fighting and Emperor knew the Exiles had been making everyone paranoid as it was. But they got through the gates before finally stopping without incident, if surrounded by suspicious Pokosian soldiers. I'll get out first, Yemon instructed his troopers, and, awkwardly shifting over Heather, planted his boots on Palace grounds. Standing upright, the kitsune faced his compatriot as he swung his pipe.

“Welcome to the Humbistean District, unfortunately the daily tours have been cancelled”

"Warrant Officer Yemon, Kitsune Imperial Marines," he said to the avian, rifle shouldered. "Thank you for letting us in. We're from the Xiscapian Embassy, trying to find Ambassador Enomoto. Do you know where he is, sir?"
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Setulan
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Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Setulan » Sat Apr 18, 2015 11:36 am

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General Mor leaned over the chart table, a frown etched onto his grizzled features, as the Setulan contingent pulled itself into Geo synchronous orbit over Tranquietel. There had still been no contact made with anyone on the ground, and scans from above showed heavy fighting all over the place. If what he was seeing was accurate - and his intelligence people assured him it was the best they could do - loyalists were locked in tight at the palace and FTI offices. The total lack of fighting at the starport was ominous to say the least, and there was a large formation of troops moving in from outside the city whose loyalty he had no way of ascertaining.

And the damn AAA was still active...but they were out of time.

"Mission is a go."

There were a few tight nods around the table.

"Sir, I am duty-bound to remind you that Tranquietel's air defenses are still active. We have no reason to believe that they can differentiate between friend and foe at this time. And that is a fairly substantial flak blanket."

"Duly noted, Colonel."

"Not that I disagree with your order, sir. But it'll be hot."

"Hotter than Kzablo? Hotter than Yrouppaz? I don't think so. Hot is what we do." Mor rose to his full towering height, made even larger by the heavy armor he was wearing. "We'll hold off on deploying any heavy landers and keep all of the gunships in orbit for now. It's too hot for anything that's going to linger. Drop ships and SLAM only. The grunts will be awful lonely, but they'll make do." He looked over to a man in the uniform of a Navy Commander and gave him a grim glance. "Go."

The man immediately began speaking into his commbead, and the drop began.

Already in position and screened by the rest of the Setulan contingent (which still traded desultory shots with the Freedom Party fleet elements but mostly let the Alversians handle it), the Liab tilted on its axis. Any sensors on the surface that paid attention to power readings would notice a spike in the ship's reactors similar to that seen preceding a large scale weapons volley coming from the Ravikovi-I, and then it released. It was as though a gigantic shotgun had been fired out of the flanks and bottom of the light cruiser as five thousand objects were blasted from their locking cradles and sent hurtling into Pokos' atmosphere.

Of the pods that had just been launched, only one in three was occupied by Infiniti Division troopers. The others were a combination of duds, empty pods, and supply pods. Above the capitol, and visible across the entire continent, the gigantic collection of metal began streaming fiery plasma as the friction of reentry caused their hulls to ignite. Upon entering the upper troposphere the give thousand pods split once more, exploding in a rolling boom that echoed across hundreds of miles and shook windows below, shattering those that weren't well made. Five thousand became twenty thousand, with only on in six actually containing troopers and the rest serving as fodder for the guns below.

The tremendous display lit up the night sky as bright as day for a few terrifying seconds. The process of an Infiniti Division combat drop had attained an almost mythical flavor in the minds of many; the Alignment had tasted its fury on more than one occasion and had an entire tactical wing dedicated to figuring out how to stop it, while Danaversians in the later stages of the war had been known to break when the sky lit up rather than face the fury of the Division's guns. There would not be many on the ground who knew what the flash meant, a number which included the few Pokosians who had served alongside the Infiniti during the Danaversian War and any AXIS troops in the scattered embassies. Those who knew would also know that the flash presaged only one thing, the unofficial motto of the Planetary Guard's most infamous shock troops.

Death with a smile.

The sky began to shake again as the city's air defenses engaged. Perhaps some were deterred by the IFF beacons being broadcast from the drop pods. If so, they were not the majority. Pods were swatted out of the sky by tracer fire, exploding in greasy balls of flame that usually killed decoys but all too frequently extinguished lives. The breakneck speed of the pods saved the majority from death, however, and most of the troops began to make ground fall.

At the starport, considered by General Mor to be his main target, two entire brigades plummeted from the heavens. Burning retros at the last possible second, merely hundreds of feet off the ground, the only thing that kept the occupants alive from the terrifying deceleration were the pods' inertial dampeners and the power armor of the troops. Pods slammed into the ground and doors exploded off of them as bolts released and the massive Setulans stormed out of their drop craft shouting speaker-amplified battle cries. Ten thousand troopers stormed the shocked and petrified Freedom Party troops holding the facility.

The Infiniti took them apart. Frozen in indecision at the sudden assault, the rebels who had been idling around the starport trying to make it prepared for a counterattack from the ground found themselves being assaulted from within. Unarmored troopers were blown apart by large caliber rail rounds as the Setulans took advantage of the confusion to clear their drop zone. Resistance picked up as the Freedom Party at the perimeter of the fields began to turn in to fight their new threat, and Setulans started dropping as phaser rounds punched through shields and shattered powered armor plating.

Still and all, within half an hour almost ten thousand Infiniti troopers had managed to set up a perimeter with the star port firmly in the middle. A vicious firefight was ongoing, but the Setulans began to push out into the city proper.

A similar drop occurred at the Flock of Defense. The air defenses at the Pokosian military's headquarters had been taken more intact by the Freedom Party, and losses were higher on the brigade that dropped on that objective. The troopers that survived to reach the ground were vicious in their abandon, slaughtering wholesale everyone around who so much as looked longingly at a weapon.


Palace


The air above Jom's head would flash white before turning bright red as the streaking comets of drop pods began to smash into the pavement all around them. Perhaps the only thing that would keep his men from opening fire immediately would be the swooping hawk of the Republic emblazoned on the sides of the pods in big black stencils, visible under the harsh floodlights that surrounded the area. As doors blew off their hinges, the Pokosians would see the big, bulky armored figures of the Division in their checkered green and brown camo as they sprinted towards the walls. An entire brigade of troopers had been tasked with securing the palace, as it was the presumed location of the High Tar and other AXIS officials, and the troops began to go to work immediately. Heavy weapons were dragged from their drop pods, K2s and Banshees being lugged up to the walls.

An imposing figure began stomping over towards Jom and the Xiscapians, her voice audible because she had decided to remove her helmet the moment she got out of her pod. Grizzled, her dark hair winged with white at the temples and bound up in a tight ponytail, one of her eyes was a milky white orb bisected by a faded red line.

"Get the crew served up to the towers! I want infantry in the fucking gates, relieve the Sword of the Tar if they want it, but I don't think they will. Why? Cus they're fucking blood drunk, you moron! Now go, dammit, I want this fucking place secure and I want it secure now!" She scowled at Jom and the collection of Xisapians, though whether or not that was due to displeasure or because of the shape of her face had yet to be determined. As she got closer, the group could see a small black eagle on her chest.

"Colonel Wilder, CO of the 2nd Brigade Drop Team, 64th Infinti." She pointed an armored finger at Jom. "Get on your fucking radio, right the fuck now, and you tell whoever is in charge of this shit show to shut down that fucking triple A so we can get some gunships support. And you tell them that right the fuck now, Captain. And then you tell me where the fuck the High Tar is, and give me some fucking intelligence as to our enemy."

She was cut off as a screech of retros caught her attention and a platoon of SLAM hammered into the tiles fifty meters away, the mecha recovering from their descent as heat waste rippled off of them. She looked at the Xiscapians.

"Enomoto isn't here, unless I miss my guess. If he stuck with Lorde, he's going to be at the FTI office. But if you hold off leaving for a minute, I might have something for you..."


FTI Offices


Lorde was sitting in the infirmary holding Lunessa's paw with Toal by her side, when the night flashed white from outside. The already pale woman smiled slightly.

"Well, that didn't take long, unless I miss my guess." She turned to Enomoto, a grim smile on her face. "I think help might have just arrived. I need to get outside." When a doctor began to protest, the Setulan laughed without humor. "Doc, if I don't go outside, I think you'll find that your infirmary is getting new doors and windows."

Standing unsteadily, using a pair of crutches provided for her by a nearby nurse, she hobbled her way towards the door, calling over her shoulder.

"You might be interested in this, it should be a good show."

She had managed to get outside just as the massive black figures dropping on the office fired their jets in perfect unison, slowing them down just enough to prevent their destruction, and the ground shook as they landed. Fifty Setulan Light Assault Mecha touched down in an incredible display of precision piloting, the six meter tall machines hissing as their hydraulics soaked up the impact. The air around them rippled, the heat from the reentry bleeding off of the ablative plating of the big machines, and one stepped forward towards Lorde.

The Setulan Light Assault Mecha was the result of a joint project between preexisting heavy armor scientists in the Republic and Xiscapian research teams in the early days of the Danaversian War. Incorporating the two design philosophies, the SLAM was born. Larger than its Xiscapian cousins, it had a terrifying combination of Setulan and Xiscapian weaponry that included Banshees, REAPERS, micro-missiles, and an energized crushing hammer. These, however, were not regular SLAM. These matte black suits were piloted by the Valkyries.

The pilot's compartment hissed open, revealing the face of a shockingly young woman with delicate features and cropped blonde hair. She gave the ambassadress a smile.

"Ambassadress Lorde. I am Sister Superior Kine. We are here to extract you and any other AXIS officials who wish to leave."
"When you're as big as a Setulan, you can't go very long without breaking something. Usually someone else's face."-Xiscapia

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Alversia
Minister
 
Posts: 3240
Founded: Apr 26, 2007
Ex-Nation

Postby Alversia » Sun May 10, 2015 4:38 pm

Flock of Temporal Investigations Office

Ceyrn walked a little behind Toal and Lorde with one Ambassadress still supporting the other in spite of the Medics who walked alongside them. It was an example of sisterly comradeship more than anything as the Alversian refused to let go of the Setulanite, rather a good metaphor for the Exile War in general. The Veela himself was still walking alongside Lunessa, still concentrating on his work in spite of the attention of the Medics who were attempting to assess the damage done to her hearing. By the time they were able to ascertain exactly what it was that was wrong however, they found that the damage had repaired itself and the Alumina’s hearing was back as good as it had ever been. Content with his work, Ceyrn followed them into the Hospital and immediately presented himself to the one who was in charge, having asked one of the less busy Nurses and Doctors to whom he could speak. He bowed his head and immediately offered his services to what looked like an already under pressure medical staff.

Toal meanwhile, was sitting beside Lorde in the medical bay while she was attended to by a Nurse, with Lunessa on the other side of her. In truth, the Ambassadress felt rather out of place in the hospital. It was a place of activity and bustle as the Doctors and Nurses rushed around tending to the wounded of the battle while she sat around doing nothing. She was holding on to Lorde’s hand to offer the Setulanite as much support as she could but her fellow Ambassadress was showing the nerves of steel and strength of character that she had come to expect from the woman. She was tempted a few times to just get up and return to the surface in case Enomoto needed her advice, though she suspected he had plenty of voices in his ear at this point, or to try and get in contact with some establish from the People’s Republic, be it the Embassy or Benedict. She was not sure if they were even aware at this stage that she was alive, she did not know if the Embassy had fallen or if it was still fighting. The lack of information frustrated her as she had built her career and indeed her life on having exactly the information at the point of time in which she needed it.

As she mused on that and tried to keep the sounds of the wounded from her ears, something of a lost cause, her attention was pulled up by a flash in the night sky. She frowned at it, wondering if it was some side effect of the battle in space or perhaps a small craft being taken by the chattering AA that she could still hear echoing across the wind even over the sounds of battle. She was able to pay it precious little attention though as movement beside her soon brought her back to Lorde, who was struggling to her feet with the help of crutches she had been handed by a Nurse. In spite of the Medical Staff’s protestations, the woman seemed determined to return outside and Lorde followed her with a quiet reassurance to the Nurse that she would look after her if she did anything untoward. She had no idea why her companion’s mood had suddenly improved.

The cloud of confusion over her was quickly dissipated as huge black figures hit the ground so hard that she had to leapt forward and prevent the crutch-supported Setulanite from hitting the ground under the violent quakes. As she supported her, one of the black figures came forward. It towered over them but the initial shock had worn off as by now, Toal understood who they were. She looked up to see the expectedly young face that emerged from the armoured shell. The famous Setulanite Valkyries. She was in truth surprised to see them here. She would have expected all of their small number to be committed to the defence of their home planet but she was not going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

At the offer though, she immediately shook her head, “my job is to provide advice on behalf of the Prime Minister and be a presence for the People’s Republic in the Commonwealth,” she replied in a rather determined manner, “and my job has not changed though if you have any news of the battle elsewhere, I would be much indebted to you.”

APS Infinitas, Bridge

Harris watched with no small measure of satisfaction as his small fleet tore into the Rebel forces. The Pocket Battleship that he had identified as the biggest danger was well and truly neutralised by the power of the Infinitas’s primary weapon but he could see that the ship, though crippled, had not been destroyed. The Heavy Cruiser that had been accompanying it was finished off though and it’s rather spectacular destruction with collateral damage soon had the Rebel fleet in full retreat. The Vice-Admiral noticed how the formation of the Pokosian forces began to change as they converged on the gutted Capital ship and began to pull it out of effective range of his fleet’s fire.

“Vice-Admiral,” Cereya said from beside him, her hands behind her back in the classic commander’s pose and one that he had seen more than a few Xiscapians use, not that he would tell the rather patriotic and prickly Feline that, “they have moved beyond effective range. Shall we pursue?”

He considered it for a moment and then shook his head, “Negative. Hold position, provide cover for the Setulanite landing vessels.”

She looked at him, tail curling around itself but she nodded to her Helmsman, “Hold position, fleet will go into defensive pattern, fighter squadrons to form CAP at .25 from main fleet.”

“Yes Captain!”

As the crew went about carrying out her orders, the Alumina looked back to Harris, “Surface batteries Sir?”

Harris nodded, pleased that she had understood the reason for his caution, “no sense in pursing into a trap. We have a more pressing task here and reinforcements are due to arrive soon. We will move when we are ready.”

“Understood, Vice-Admiral.”

With their exchange over, Harris went back to monitoring the tactical map as his vessels formed a mushroom shape with the Battlecruiser at the top and the other ships spread out around them. Between them they formed a shield over the top of the Setulanite fleet, their guns and defensive fire interlocked and fighters aggressively watching for any attempt to counter-attack or scout out the situation. Besides waiting for reinforcements, there was not much more he could do.

Alversian Embassy

“DANGER. INCOMING FIRE. DANGER. INCOMING FIRE”

The mechanical grinding noise that was the voice of the drone hovering over Cahill’s head was joined just seconds later by a slow whine that increased in pitch until it was a screaming noise in his ears. The Marine started to look up only to hear a loud buzz followed by a percussive thud that nearly threw him off his feet. He regained his balance in time to take a proper look at least and saw a large cloud spreading itself across the sky above the main Embassy building. The closest analogy he would had would be an aircraft that had been destroyed in mid-flight with the comet tails of debris spreading out from it and falling as rain to the ground.

“MUNITION NEUTRALISED. RETURNING TO SENTRY MODE.”

The rounded rectangular drone, painted in the colours of the Alversian Republican Marines, returned to the previous still state in which it had previously inhabited. It was floating just a few feet above the ground which was where it had been until it had suddenly shot high into the air upon the detection of the artillery shells. The Marine Captain had remembered questioning the wisdom of bringing the full Company’s arsenal when it was deployed in such a sedate location but now he was thanking whatever deity up there was looking after them. The drones and the Ayers had been, to date, worth their weight in the most precious material in the known galaxy.

He did not take much time to celebrate but instead focused down the scope of his rifle. This was not the first such artillery strike of the day and it would not be the last. They had all followed the same pattern; a few shells lobbed towards the Embassy complex followed by fire from the surrounding buildings and finally, a charge from a bunch of poor bastards with more enthusiasm than common sense. Sure enough, no sooner had the last shell been decisively turned away than the fire started. All across the Alversian Embassy, Marines hunkered down in the foxholes they had constructed or behind what little cover was left in the gardens and the outer buildings as the phaser fire increased until it filled the air. They returned fire until the air was filled with the deafening hiss of phasers, the percussive thump of Alversian rifles and the heavy rattling noise of the squad weapons. Cahill peered down the scope of his rifle, utilising the sensor node on the front to light up the building before him. Where previously he had only seen beams of light as they fizzed around him, he now saw shapes as they ducked behind cover and emerged to take pot shots. He squeezed the trigger and felt the BRR rifle jump in his grip as the figure he aimed at suddenly went dark. Suddenly, the whole floor of the building gave away as the Ayers tore through the thin structure with hundreds of explosive shells, forcing Cahill to look away as the light blinded him.

Even over the sound of the fighting though, he heard the screeching wails that had become as regular to the Marine defenders as clockwork. Immediately, Cahill switched on his vox, having to shout over the sound of battle, “Alpha-Epilson, we have incoming hostiles. Prepare to drop four splinters, co-ordinates to follow, stand by!”

Though it was difficult to hear, especially as he heard a rattle of Ayers fire, “Roger, standing by!”

Cahill waited patiently as one of the started to rise above the others. Its shields flared as the phasers turned on it but the ground forces responded in kind as they suppressed the attempts to shoot it down. The drone was there for only a moment before it began to lower again, its shields flaring time and time again before, finally, one phaser spread itself across the hull without interference. More and more phaser fire struck the drone and its decent speed increased until it could only be described as a plummet, smashing into something out of Cahill’s view that had him wincing.

“Co-ordinates locked!” The voice in his ear called, “firing!”

The Officer could hear them, the thudding noises from deep inside the Embassy, out of view from the attackers. Almost immediately he heard the whistling, a noise that increased in intensity and tempo as the artillery shells had done before there was a series of pops like a firework, four in total. Though he could not see, Cahill could imagine the scene as the shells exploded high above the attacking forces and rained down on them a cloud of debris as sharp as bayonets and with the force of a charging Carvon. It would be nasty, he knew that much. They were, however, starting to run out of mortar rounds. He had no idea how many more attacks they could repel with them.

That was exactly the time that he heard the sounds of combat from beyond the walls of the Embassy grounds, what started off as just a few errant shots soon turned into a full raging battle. He was puzzled until he heard the sounds of organised phaser fire. They had to be Pokosian regulars and, judging from the screams and the sudden drop in intensity, they were fighting with the Rebels who had besieged the Embassy.

All at once there was silence. It was almost eerie but the Marines took full advantage. They grabbed their wounded and their dead and began hauling them back towards the main building, which had been converted into a makeshift hospital. They were covered every step of the way by the Drones, who now floated around the perimeter to watch for signs of brave or suicidal rebel scouts.

Cahill himself tapped into one of the drones to take advantage of the camera and see just who it was that stood outside his front gate. Frowning to himself, he clicked his vox to the Drones and activated the speaker, “This is Captain Cahill, 33rd Marines, who am I speaking to?”

APS Belleview, Bridge

Is there any intel that you have that I don’t. As for injuries I have nothing a good nights rest and some alcoholic libation might cure”

“Pokos is under attack,” the Alumina informed the Pokosian readily enough, “that much you are aware of. It seems from scans that entire formations of the Army and special services have deserted to join the ranks of the Rebels. The Palace has been hit by a terrorist attack that has inflicted considerable casualties but we are, as of yet, unable to identify casualties or even pinpoint our own diplomats, much less members of the government. We have little to no contact with surface forces but scans from orbit have picked up combat in most major cities and at strategic points throughout the planet. That is unfortunately the best I can give you, Flock Marshal, hopefully we shall have a clearer picture once we are in orbit ourselves.”

The Feline cocked her head at his second request though as if she was trying to work out if he was being serious or not, “this is a military vessel, Sir. We do not carry alcohol as a matter of policy. However, I will insist that you present your to the Sickbay to allow a full medical to be carried out. Purely as a precaution, you understood. I’m sure the Falcons will be happy to accompany you.” She turned her yellow eyes on Rourke, who nodded.

“We can show you the way, Flock Marshal, it’s not far.”

As they left the bridge, Rourke was able to hear Emene dishing out orders to her crew.

“Shields up, CAP flights to stand by. Signal that we have the Flock Marshal aboard and are jumping to Pokos as ordered. Is the rest of the fleet ready?”

“Yes Ma’am.”

“Sync our jump to theirs so we arrive simultaneously.

“Aye ma’am!”
Last edited by Alversia on Sun May 10, 2015 4:39 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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O Boyce
Diplomat
 
Posts: 507
Founded: Apr 22, 2007
Ex-Nation

Postby O Boyce » Sun Jun 07, 2015 10:41 pm

Augesh 14 2630 SFY,
City of Tranquietel, Pokos
Humbistean District


Drifts of fog and dust whirled around in front of Madison as she walked down the gravel path that wound in and out of the trees that surrounded her. Everything seemed distorted to her as though she continued walking. It made her wonder over and over if she was dreaming or not. She had walked this pathway before. Memory of it lingered at the edge of her memory. She knew this place yet she did not. It had a solemn feeling of a sacred place. She felt as though a thousand eyes were piercing through her skin into her soul, making the feathers on her body prickle and stand on end. There were no animal sounds that normally accompanied the wilderness, then again, this was not a wilderness, not in the strictest sense. Now that she had been walking for what seemed like an eternity her mind began to figure where she was. She was on one of the many monastery grounds that littered the lower slopes of Tranquietel.

She had come here many times with her father, long before the wars and the thousands of deaths. Long before her fathers shame had tortured him enough for him to commit suicide. Even then she had found it peaceful, if rather a bit strange. The monks here had long ago taken a vow of silence, and the many who worked the gardens and wilderness that was enclosed on its grounds fiercely protective of their work. She continued to walk, each step bringing her closer and closer to what she felt was her destination. She did not see it, nor did she know what it was, but every footfall seemed to bring her in the direction her soul wanted to go. It was not until she reached a small brook did she finally stop. Standing there was a monk, but this one seemed different. He seemed ancient, as though his talons and feathers were made of the trees and grasses that grew around him. His wizened feathers puffed slightly under his greying beak looking almost like a beard. He stood in silence as Madison drew near, and then, broke the silence that hung over these grounds.

“You have come to seek my guidance” The elder monk said in almost a whisper.

“What do you know of me and what I seek” Madison asked in shocked surprise.

“I am your fathers father, father to all, I know all, see all” The monk stated blankly.

“But you are a monk? You cannot be all those things” Madison stated in rebuke.

“I am the lord, your god, I can take whatever form I choose. A monk, or a small hatchling” The monk responded in kind, his body morphing to the form of a hatchling and back with what looked like the moving of sands.

Madison dropped to the ground and prostrated herself before the monk. She was overcome with awe and reverence for what appeared before her. The personification of God himself. She found herself fondling rosary beads that she suddenly felt in her hands and muttering prayers under her breath as she wracked her mind for what could possibly be happening. Once again she questioned if she was dreaming or not.

“Rise my child, for you have much to do” The monk said.

Madison slowly rose to her feet, her bones aching as though they refused to follow the commands that her nerve endings were sending to her muscles. As she stood up she looked up at the monk and she was overtaken with a sudden feeling of joy. A joy she had never felt before and she doubted she would ever feel again.

“What…What do you mean” Madison stuttered.

“I have tested your people many times as I had once tested the Israelites of long ago. I brought your people War, I brought them Death, I brought them Famine, I brought them Pestilence. They passed my tests. Now it is time to test them again. Hard times are coming, and it is time that I unleash my four horsemen once more upon your people, my chosen people, the true believers” The monk said.

“The Schisim, Moragoth, that was all you?” Madison questioned.

“It was important that I tested to see if your people were ready to break their isolation and join the greater community” The monk answered “You will help me test your people again. Dark times are coming, you must be prepared”

“What is coming?” Madison demanded.

“A darkness, there will be a great war that will bring many peoples together and this war will be fought on more than just your plain of existence, here to angels and demons will be fighting for their very existence” The monk said, “You must go, you will be tested my child and perhaps you will fail, but always remember that you always have my love”

Before Madison could respond everything began to disappear into a blinding white light that faded into the small closet that she had settled down. As she slowly began to wake from what seemed like a slumber that was ages long she looked down at her chronometer, which told her a very different story. She had only been asleep for a few hours. Her faculties were starting to come back to her and she began to take in her surroundings. That is when she noticed the loud rumbling noise coming from almost everywhere. Madison quickly donned the gear that she had taken off and rushed out of the small room and rushed into the command area that she had helped set up. It was complete chaos. Outside the windows she could see that the cities defenses were on overdrive firing rapidly into the night sky. Along with the bursts of flame and debris she could see streaks of flame burning through the clouds and down onto the city. Some of these streaks burst apart as the cities defenses took them down. After a few seconds her mind made the connection and she knew what it was. Offwolder troops were dropping into the city. The situation was more dire than she had thought.

The command center was a buzz of new information that she tackled head on as they came in. She gave out orders to respond to the now changing situation with as much clarity as she could muster.

“We’ve lost the spaceport and FLOCKCOMM…..enemy drop pods coming down all over the city…..Royalist positions are being reinforced by offworlder troops….Many of our positions have become compromised by the loss of the spaceport and FLOCKCOMM…Cardinarian Corps leading elements getting off of the trains just outside the city at the junctions in The Ruins, Amon Crestal, and the cargo yard across the Mountianside Canal”

Madison took it in and began to shout out orders as fast as she could.

“Send message to all Cardinarian Corps commanders, form a line just on the south side of the Mountainside Canal and cover all bridges over it…..Have all forces inside the city pull their reserves downslope to form a line of battle at Terminus Park while all frontline troops go on the offensive. Throw the damn Royalists and their allies back on their heels so we can regroup and link up with the Cardinarian Corps” Madison ordered with lightning precision “Headquarters will be set up at Terminus Park visitor center. All of you prepare to evacuate. Burn or destroy anything you can’t take with you”

****************************************************************************************************8

Johm studied the Xiscapian troopers while they stood there but with the amount of stress that he was trying to keep under wraps and look professional in front of his troops, relaxed and able to handle the situation that was developing. He was on edge. He could feel himself cracking but he was using everything in his might not to lose it.

“All high value assets have been moved to the FTI Offices. Which as of this point is probably just as surrounded as we are her…..” Johms words were cut off by the sound of the city’s defenses rate of fire tripling.

He looked up in awe as the hundreds of streaks of fire that indicated what he could only figure was drop pods of some kind rain down on the city. That was not to say that the pods were not immune to the amount of fire sent there way. Dozens were blown from the sky in swaths. By the time Johm started to hear the first thuds of pods hitting the ground a horrifying thought came to mind. What if these pods were not allies? That thought was suddenly shattered from his mind as a drop pod came down right inside the forum along with dozens of others, some coming down right into the tents set up for Johm’s troops while other slammed off of the historic buildings or into them completely. The nearest pod lurched open and out of it came the massive form of a Setulan Infinity trooper move out shouting loudly over the sound of the city around him. His words struck a chord with Johm, touching on the very crack that he had spent the entire day mending in an effort to keep his cool and in that one instant, the thin crack that held back his emotions burst open.

Johm immediately drew his saber with a songlike metallic ring and closed the distance between Johm and the Infinity trooper that looked to be in charge of the Setulan troops coming down inside the forum in shocking quick time, all the while screeching with avain rage until the very tip of the saber was mere millimeters from the Infiniti troopers neck.

“I HAVE SPENT THE ENTIRE DAY ORDERING MYSELF AND MY TROOPERS TO KILL OUR OWN PEOPLE! OUR OWN DAMN PEOPLE! MALES, FEMALES, YOUNGLINGS! WE HAVE BEEN ATTACKED, BETRAYED AND DO NOT EVEN KNOW WHO TO TRUST IN THE GOVERNMENT! THE GOVERNMENT THAT I SWORE TO PROTECT AND THE MONARCH THAT I HAVE SWORN MY ALLEGIENCE TO IS BROKEN AND YOU DARE TO PRESUME THAT ATTITUTE HERE! YOU SIR ARE IN ERROR!” Johm shrieked with rage, his entire body shaking with it, his break heavy, but slowing as he began to regain his composure.

Johm could feel all the eyes in the forum on him and the Infiniti trooper and he suddenly realized the mistake he had made and how compromised that he had really become. With a very slow and controlled movement Johm slowly pulled back his saber and slowly, and deliberately returned it to the scabbard. He looked up at the Infiniti trooper as his anger and rage began to subside, his breathing becoming steady and finally with one last sigh he began to apologize.

“I am very sorry for my display. It has been….hard…..on all of us here. Unfortunately I do not have command of the city’s defenses, those lie solely with Flock Marshall Stonewall, whom is at the FTI offices with all of the surviving delegates and nobility. Since we can’t trust any of our communications network, damn Freedom party scum, we don’t know how deep their infiltration has goes, I cannot reach the offices. Our orders were to hold here to the last” Johm said now, with his composure regained.

Off in the distance, through the din of city’s defenses Johm picked up the familiar sound of drum and fife. He could not tell what direction that it was coming from but he had a sinking feeling in his gut that was acknowledged from the report that was coming from the walls that it was what he feared.

“Sir! Troops moving forward. Banners at the head of the column indicates Foot Guard Grenadiers”

Johm sighed heavily and then turned to face the bugler.

“Sound to arms” He ordered the bugler “TO ARMS BOYS! HERE THEY COME AGAIN!”

As the bugle notes rang the entire forum became a beehive of activity as troopers that had been resting from the days fighting and were taking positions while the ones at the gate ushered the Xicapian patrol into the forum while they barricaded the entrance and rolled up a three inch gun behind it.

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

As the commander of the column looked up at the Alversian on the wall of the Embassy a bolt of energy lanced from a nearby building and burned into the shoulder of the Pokosian officer. He dropped like a rock before saying anything and the entire road exploded in phaser fire. It came from a very controlled volley from far beyond visibility on the road leading upslope. The sound of fife and drum began to play loudly from that direction. The column of Royalists that had once cleared the road of Freedom party Stalwarts shook themselves into a battle line facing attack that was now coming their way, sending sporadic fire back at their unseen foe, the NCO’s doing their best to take hold of the situation of now being leaderless and attempting to pull together a defense.

“Foot Guards!” Shouted one of the NCO’s “Here they come boys, hold your fire until you have a clear target!”

The Foot Guards began to march slowly out of the shadows of the street and into the area that was illuminated by the fires that sparked and flickered near the side of the road and the buildings nearby. The fifes and drums plucking out a tune that if had not been heard on the battlefield would have been a jaunting jig. Here though, in this context it was deadly. The Foot Guards feet echoed off of the cobbles of the street in uniform thumps and clacks. The units flags fluttering briskly in the nighttime breeze. They were some of the most disciplined, well drilled, and fearsome troops of the Commonwealth and they were now fighting on the side of the rebelling. That note struck a little hard on every single trooper that was now facing them. With a sudden blare of the bugle they came to a stop.

“FIRE!” The NCO’s of the Royalists shouted.

There was a smattering of fire that erupted from the Royalists, not as uniform as before as many were shaken by what they were facing and the lack of a leading officer their confidence was shaken. The tank further behind unleashed a burst of heavy phaser fire. The Royalists fire blasted holes in the Foot Guards, their energy shields flashing and flickering as they took fire but file closers stepped up and closed the line.

With a few barked orders the Foot Guards lowered their staff phasers in one swift motion. Another order was echoed and in one massive whine of fire their weapons discharged and washed over the Royalists. Like a scythe the phaser fire cut down the Royalists, dozens fell either dead or wounded. Those who were still standing attempted to pull together the battle line but it was a little more ragged than before and very bloodied.

The Pokosian troopers huddled in their two deep line behind their energy shields, staff phasers pointed at the foe. The battle here had only just begun.

Augesh 14 2630 SFY,
City of Tranquietel, Pokos
FTI Offices


Stonewall watched with a trained military eye the drop pods that were coming down from the sky. Their fiery trails streaking across the night sky now being illuminated even more by the city’s defenses that were now targeting the pods. The pods that were making it groundside were thudding to the ground all around. Dozens were dropping inside the FTI offices grounds. Stonewall could see some people mingling down near the base of the tower. Some of them, from what he could tell were the dignitaries that were brought here that were now rushing out to see what was happening, and a small grouping of them were talking to what Stonewall immediately recognized as Infiniti Troopers. He was glad that allies were here to help but he needed to get a report from them to ascertain what was going on in orbit. With all comms down he had no way to trust what he got from local sources and he needed eyes. He turned to a trooper that was working and had he come over.

“Trooper, go down there and find whomever is in charge of those Infiniti troopers and have them report to me” Stonewall ordered.

The trooper saluted and then rushed off, making a beeline for the Infiniti trooper that was talking to the dignitaries.

Stonewall could only hope that with allied troops dropping in that he would be able to save the city and his country.

Stonewall leaned over the desk that he was standing at and looked out the windows over the slope and the valley far down below. With the location of the offices on this spur of the mountain, he could see for hundreds of miles. He couldn’t see the edge of the valley, that was out of view and hard to spot even during a clear day, but here at night he could only see lights from the roads, cities and towns that dotted it. But he knew that outside the edge of the valley lay the plains of Cardiniar, where from what his intel had told him, had completely fallen to the Freedom Party. If only he could be able to see over those mountains and into the plains beyond. The hereditary enemies of the crown but that was centuries ago. Had the old rivalries finally resurfaced? A thought that seemed preposterous but could it be possible.

A flash of light from beyond the mountains caught his eye and he immediately recognized it. The Freedom Party had gotten a hold on the surface to orbit munitions. There were six flashes and Stonewall counted in his head the facilities that were in Cardinair. From his count, all of them had fallen. This added a level of difficulty to retaking his country. At that same time another trooper rushed into the room, his arrival punctuated by the sound of an artillery shell landing next to the gate of the office grounds. The rebel yell that he and his men had become accustomed to during the last few hours began to echo around the office grounds.

“Sir!” The trooper shouted as he came to a stop and saluted.

Stonewall saluted back and nodded approval for the trooper to give his report.

“Sir, the enemy is attacking again, in force” The trooper reported.

Stonewall nodded in acknowledgement and gave out orders as they needed to be given.

“Message to all Regimental Commanders. All reserves forward and throw back anything put forward. I may have allied assets to move in as support soon” Stonewall ordered.

The trooper saluted again and rushed off. Stonewall followed him part of the way into the open floor and lesser desks that were outside the office he had taken as his own for the time being. It struck him odd that these many desks was where the many agents of the FTI worked day in and day out to maintain the timeline and collect objects that could do damage to said timeline. This was where thousands sacrificed to protect the Commonwealth and the universe. It was funny to Stonewall that with everything going on, the rebellion, that even he could not storm the vaults down below and take one of the many devices that had been collected over the decades and use it to go back and nip the rebellion in the bud. That would be against the code he swore to uphold, but with every report of loyal Commonwealth positions falling or turning, the thought became ever more on his mind. These thoughts were more pointed as he heard phaser fire begin to erupt from the gates. He knew he should not break his oath, but he would also do anything to protect his country. When the time came, he knew he would make the decision that he was destined to make.

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

As rough as the situation was on the surface, things were much more convoluted. Not only was orbit plastered with thousands of large pieces of flotsam and debris from the fighting. Central Station was burning in place, its anti gravity devices were straining to maintain its position between Pokos and Plaktea. The rebel fleet was pulling away from the AXIS fleet but that was not saying they had given up. Ordinance coming from rear firing weapons platforms. Phasers, missiles, and an occasional nuclear warhead streaked across the space between the two fleets to cover the retreat of the rebel fleet. Fighters from the rebel fleet flew CAP over the larger ships, adding their firepower when it an AXIS ship or fighter got in range. Down below on the planet’s dark side six flashes illuminated on the west side of the continent in a cluster. Each of those flashes indicated the launch of surface to orbit weapons that had fallen into rebel hands.

These weapons were super heavy high explosive rounds made of a superheavy metal and weighing several hundred tons. These weapons had been developed long ago during the Great Schism, massive Magnetic Accelerator Cannons build directly into the earth of the planet launched them and lobbed them into orbit, the multiple warp cores powering them contained in heavily fortified and guarded complexes. These six rounds blasted into orbit and headed towards the largest of the AXIS fleets ships. As the massive rounds that didn’t miss slammed into their targets six more flashes illuminated that region of the planet, another salvo was on its way.

Augesh 14 2630 SFY,
APS Belleveiw
En Route to Pokos


Singalee nodded in approval of the commanding officers statement about the hard liquor. Although Singalee meant it in jest he could tell that this Alversian officer was a no nonsense kind of person. It was admirable, but Singalee’s quirky sense of humor in all things could rub some the wrong way. That being said he allowed himself to be lead away to be checked up. He could only hope that he would be able to get some fresh intel on the attacks. With one more nod of approval with the sound of engines spooling up, Singalee pulled a small flask out of his waist band and jiggled it, hearing a slight tinkle of fluid within and he smiled.

“Even if I wanted to drink, not enough to do much anyway” Singalee said to himself with a smirk and placed it back from where he got it.

With a sigh he continued to be led away. Soon, he thought to himself. Soon he would be home and be able to take revenge on those who attacked him. They had made it personal, and anyone who knew anything about the Pokosian Flock Marshall, was that when he had been personally attacked. The offending person or group was usually found dead, and not in a clean way.
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Xiscapia
Postmaster-General
 
Posts: 12868
Founded: Mar 13, 2007
Democratic Socialists

Postby Xiscapia » Thu Jun 18, 2015 11:31 pm

Augesh 13 2630 SFY,
City of Tranquietel, Pokos
Flock of Temporal Investigations Office


Even inside they couldn't escape the war. The wounded were spread out on beds across the ward, victims of previous Freedom Party attacks on the FTI offices. So Enomoto hadn't tried to escape it. He'd gone around to as many of the soldiers and workers as he could, talking to those who were still conscious and lucid. Some of them swore oaths against the rebels and some bemoaned that things had ever gotten this way, but what he heard most often was worry. Concern for the people in the city outside and across the nation, thoughts going to families far-flung with unknown statuses, and under it all, a desire to set things right again. Without revealing that he was going to be named High Tar, Enomoto promised that he would do all he could, for this wife and that brother, to help the troubled nation, and to stop the rebels.

Now he sat in the corner of the room. Bolton was a constant presence by his side, never hovering more than a meter or so away, and now she stood between him and the door. She had to be exhausted, he knew, but she didn't show it. He knew that he was tired and everyone could tell as he slumped in his chair. Going around to see the wounded had somehow been worse than the frantic run through the war-torn city, but when he saw the three females sitting together on the cot he had to smile. Lunessa sat on the end, holding Lorde's hand, and beside her Toal was holding the Setulanite's hand in turn, all of them connected by that most simple of gestures. His mate had gotten her hearing back thanks to Ceyrn, but she hadn't done much in the way of talking. None of them did; they were all too lost in their own thoughts.

The flash made him look up at the same time as the others, and he looked at Lorde with a cocked ear. Not understanding, he glanced between Lunessa and Bolton. The Alumina shrugged, and the other Setulanite just smiled before slinging her shotgun and looking to the door. Giving her a nod, he got to his feet and followed along as Toal helped Lorde out the door, trailing his mate and bodyguard behind him. Outside the night air seemed warmer, and it only took one look for him to figure out why as the SLAM descended, crunching onto the office grounds with an exactitude that belayed their very names. Just seeing them made him sigh in relief. The FTI troops had done a great job of protecting them so far, but it was impossible not to feel a bit safer with the six meter high armored suits around.

"Ambassadress Lorde. I am Sister Superior Kine. We are here to extract you and any other AXIS officials who wish to leave."

Enomoto blinked as Kine revealed herself, not sure if he was more surprised by her young age -she couldn't have been older than early twenties, if that- or her strange rank. But then he felt Lunessa's eyes on him and he turned slowly, his gaze meeting hers as she looked down at him. She tilted her head ever so slightly, and he just nodded. Exhaling slowly, the feline reached out and pulled him into a tight hug that he returned, arms wrapping around each other and squeezing so tightly that they both seemed to vibrate for a moment from the force of it. After a moment they parted, drawing back just enough so he could look her in the eye again. There was still dried blood caked around her ears, her dress was torn and covered in dirt and her fur was mussed, but she'd never looked more beautiful to him than she did right at that moment, on the verge of parting.

"Anh yêu anh," she said. Leaning down, Lunessa kissed him, once and slowly, only pulling away as the shriek of an artillery shell broke the relative quiet and a rebel yell sounded outside the gates. Then she stepped away, turning to Kine. "I'm ready," she told the woman simply, and if nothing else Enomoto got the unique experience of seeing her look up at someone else. A touch of the Lunessa he knew broke through as she smiled. "And you should know I'm now the mate of the High Tar," she pointed at Enomoto, "so handle with care."

Augesh 13 2630 SFY,
City of Tranquietel, Pokos
Humbistean District


“All high value assets have been moved to the FTI Offices. Which as of this point is probably just as surrounded as we are here..."

Yemon swore and turned, his initial urge to bring his fist down on the top of the car only stopped by the knowledge that the power armor would probably rip a hole right through the roof. Before he could even think about asking anything else the sky lit up with twenty thousand bolts from the black and it seemed as if everyone, Johm, himself and all of their soldiers turned their eyes to the sky. He hadn't served in the Danaversian War, but he'd read enough about it to know what that flash like a second sun meant. There was nothing in the universe that looked like an Infinti drop, and he smiled behind his helmet as the pods began to howl into ground-shaking landings all around them. The sight of the striking eagle just confirmed it, and so he stood in position as Colonel Wildner strode over to where he and Johm stood.

Then, just as quickly as the Setulanites had appeared, it all went to shit. She was barking orders and she'd only just turned her attention to Yemon when Johm drew his sword, pointing it at her neck. He had no idea if the blade was capable of penetrating the woman's armor but that didn't stop his carbine from swinging up to point directly at the Pokosian's back. In the next instant the other Royalist soldiers were turning on him, Pokosians on the walls and at the gate leveling their phasers, and the aircar doors were flying open as the rest of the squad piled out to defend their Warrant, Xiscapian guns pointing across Pokosian phasers as Johm raged at Wildner. Staring as the officer's screams subsided and he brought his sword back, Yemon slowly lowered his carbine, his tail signaling carefully for the rest of the squad to do the same.

What the fuck was that? Ima said over the squad link.

Not now, Private. Yemon stood still with his squad, trying to be as inconspicuous as ten power armored Imperial Marines who'd nearly had a friendly fire incident could be while Johm apologized. It was during that when the Warrant Officer picked up the distant sound of music, and he lifted his head as his ears twisted around inside of his helmet. Before he'd associated the drum and fife with Pokosian military parades, but today all that sound meant was trouble. Johm heard it too and the palace grounds exploded into action. Ima and Jackie dove back into the driver's seats, pulling the cars forward to make room for the Pokosian guns as the rest of the squad followed Yemon to the side.

Qell, Taden, I want you on the palace building picking off targets. Ramas, pair with Ima on the wall, you're be anti-tank, if they move in any vehicles take them down with your Silver. Palu, you've got the Howler so set up on the wall with Jackie to provide suppressive fire. Heather, start making runs up and down the wall for wounded, Jo, you escort her. Humiya, with me.

As the squad scattered Yemon turned and looked up at Wildner. "Colonel," he executed a bow so fast that she could have been forgiven for thinking it had been a trick of the light, "Warrant Officer Yemon, Imperial Marines. You can save that tip, it looks like my squad isn't going anywhere. And for the record, ma'am, we're at your command." She wouldn't need to be a genius to read into that.
Xis quote of the week: Altaria Almighty: how are you not just a race of sexual predators? Like who needs power armour and gauss rifles when you have leather and whips. –Karaig
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Setulan
Ambassador
 
Posts: 1308
Founded: Feb 02, 2008
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Setulan » Wed Jul 15, 2015 8:55 am

Augesh 13 2630 SFY,
City of Tranquietel, Pokos
Humbistean District



In that one moment, Johm probably had no idea how close he came to ending the lives of every single one of his men. Almost five thousand troopers had landed with their colonel expecting betrayal, and Captain Johm actually having the temerity to draw a weapon on their commanding officer almost caused a massive purge - which the Infiniti troopers had plans to do anyway if the situation warranted it. As it was, a terse non verbal order from Colonel Wilder was all that kept the palace from another blood bath. But as Johm turned away to issue orders and run off to his men, he would find himself pinned in place by a massive hand on his shoulder. Entirely against his will, he was turned around and found himself face to face with the Setulan whom he had so recently been threatening. The harsh relief of the floodlights bathed Colonel WIlder's face in darkness as she loomed over the Pokosian, massive power armored chest to face, as she stood almost a full foot taller than him.

"Let's make something abundantly fucking clear, Captain." The words were flat, entirely devoid of any emotion. But the eyes that looked at Johm...they were full of violent promise.

"You've had a bad day. You've been killing your countrymen. That is unfortunate. It is...distressing. And yet. And yet you dare to presume to speak to me with that tone, to draw a weapon on me. A superior officer, in every fucking sense of the word." Wilder began stepping forward slowly, forcing the avian back with each step. "I was twelve when the Great War started. I fought in the La Grange Hive for eight years, you worthless pissant. I have seen rivers of blood from my countrymen. You speak of oaths? You speak of betrayal? I swore to protect my nation, but because your-" a shove - "shitty-" another shove - "backwater fucking rebellion that you can't even fucking handle, I am not on my home planet while it is fucking besieged!" One second, Johm was looking up at Wilder; the next, he was flat on his back with the huge figure towering over him, a fist powerful enough to pulp him flat on his chest. "And you have the fucking balls to pull a weapon on me?" The Setulan was no longer speaking softly, and her voice was clearly audible over the renewed crack of phaser fire. "You are a soldier of AXIS, you worthless fucking meatball! An officer! DO YOUR FUCKING JOB, FALL TO COMMAND, AND GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY FACE OR SO HELP ME I WILL PURGE YOUR ENTIRE FUCKING COMMAND!" The Setulan rose. "Now get the fuck to your troops, and pray I forget your outburst before this is over."

Turning to address the Xiscapian Warrant - who was probably about pissing himself with anxiety at this point, Wilder reflected wryly - she waved a hand to bring him over.

"Belay those orders you just put out, Warrant. Get your troops back here. You've just been assigned to my PSD." Before Yesho could form any objection to his squad being put on personal security detail, the Setulan leaned in close. "Ten more marines won't make a difference when I have five thousand troopers on the walls. But ten marines could make a big difference behind the lines." Her good eye bored into Yesho's and perhaps the Kitsune would remember that across AXIS, Setulan officers were being assassinated at a terrifying rate. "Besides, if you stick around my CP you'll have a better ear for where the bigwigs are.

Striding quickly to the ad hoc command post that had been set up under some cover, Wilder looked over her plans for the defense of the city. Hostile icons began cropping up, and she chuckled.

"Well, here we go..."

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


The Sword of the Tar, pinned down by the disciplined volley from the Foot Guards, would look up in shock as across the walls big Setulans threw themselves into cover in the storm of fire. Despite moving between the volley fire of the Foot Guards, traitor skirmishers in the surrounding buildings dropped many with horrifying cracks as the energy weapons shattered their heavy plate. Unrestrained by a need for an NCO to order them to fire, the Republicans began unleashing a storm of heavy rail shot at the advancing infantry. Step one of any Setulan engagement had begun - achieve overwhelming fire superiority.

Yet even with the heavy rounds from their rifles and an ever increasing number of support weapons, the fearsome Foot Guards continued their steady advance, lashing out with disciplined volleys from their phasers that smashed into AXIS positions with fearsome accuracy. That was when Wilder's second phase came into effect, and the entire brigade's worth of mortars began to fire. Hundreds of 120mm tubes flashed in a series of meaty thunks, followed by the heavy screams of the incoming shells. The effect would be catastrophic. Dropped behind the advancing files of infantry and therefore behind their shields, massive explosions ripped through the advancing assault. Yet the tremendous barrage was not simply made up of regular ordnance. At least half of the rounds coming in where Variable Time shells, exploding fifty meters above the heads of the infantry to rain shrapnel on them from above, while scattered throughout were white phosphorous and gas shells. Horrible screams erupted, audible even over the tremendous cacophony of gunfire. Buildings that had stood for centuries were turned to so much rubble and shrapnel by the epic bombardment.

Enemy armor was swiftly dealt with by the Infiniti troopers, despite the Foot Guard skirmishers making a point to pick off those who carried Mauler tubes. Every nine man squad had two of the missiles, and Republican rocketeers had learned their trade well against the mass armored charges of the Danaversians. In the narrow streets, where only one or two vehicles could advance at a time, tanks were simply a more fiery way to die.

And yet despite the holes in their line, despite the death raining all around them, the Foot Guard advanced, and inflicted casualties with their highly disciplined, incredibly accurate volley fire. Despite the weight of fire coming on upon them, there would be no easy victory.


FTI Offices


As Lunessa stepped towards the SLAM, the plating would ripple back, revealing a cramped space inside the vehicle that almost looked like it was between and below the pilot's legs. It was fortunate that the SLAM were made for Setulans, and those with a Setulan's physique - as it was, Lunessa would be cramped in the medical evac section. As she stepped in, grimacing at the confines, the alumina would let out a brief yelp as belts automatically strapped her in tight and locked her back before the plating snapped shut in front of her.

"I will be staying." Lorde had thought it over for all of ten seconds before coming to her decision. "For one thing, Pokos needs a Setulan diplomat here. And for another, there should be someone high in the diplomatic corps who can deal with our troops when the time is right."

If the Sister Superior was unhappy to hear this, she gave no sign.

"Very well." It was at that moment that a harried looking Pokosian ran up.

"Uh, sir! Madam! If you are in command, General Stonewall would like you to report...to...him..."

Perhaps just then realizing the company surrounding him, the Pokosian's feathers ruffled uncomfortably.

"As he wishes." She turned to her cadre. "You know what to do."

With a flare of jets, Kine flew in a graceful parabola to where Stonewall was standing.

"Sister Superior Kine, General." There was no hint of deference in her voice, or any indication that she would be willing to obey his commands, but the Valkyries were notoriously aloof. "It is of critical importance that you shut down the air defenses over the city. General Mohr cannot commit his heaviest equipment until you do so, and the Infiniti troopers are going to require air support and armor to push the Freedom Party out of the city without inflicting undue losses upon the civilians."


Pokos, Orbit


The massive, fiery trails of plasma heading towards AXIS fleet caused a fair bit of concern as they burned by. Mohr grimaced.

"Send a message to the Alvies. See if their Marines can spike those damn guns, I want to keep my Infiniti as reserves for the main fight."

"Message sent, sir."

"Air defenses just dropped! I repeat, the air defenses have gone down, they have been shut off!"

"Go for phase two!" Mohr snapped the order immediately, his face lighting up as he ran for his own drop pod. They had been holding the Freedom Party back and making some small gains, establishing a foothold. Now it was time to win.

Across the Liab, there was another strange signals reading as dozens of gunship wings dropped from their bays. The resilient Bentnose gunships were laden down with heavy ordnance and guns as they dove into the atmosphere, intent on providing extra firepower for the infantry. Just as importantly, the heavy landers began to detach from their mother ship carrying tanks and artillery. Under heavy Firestorm escort the heavy equipment of the division dropped into atmo.
Last edited by Setulan on Wed Jul 15, 2015 10:55 am, edited 1 time in total.
"When you're as big as a Setulan, you can't go very long without breaking something. Usually someone else's face."-Xiscapia

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Alversia
Minister
 
Posts: 3240
Founded: Apr 26, 2007
Ex-Nation

Postby Alversia » Sun Aug 02, 2015 2:52 pm

FTI Offices, Tranquietel, Pokos

Toal watched as Lunessa and Enomoto shared one last moment of affection before the Alumina fitted herself into the armour of the Valkyrie. It was rather strange to see how the Feline fitted into the compartment that, though had been intended for a being of Setulanite size, was still a bit of a squeeze for the woman. With a single blast, the suit of armour disappeared and the leader of the Valkyries headed in to speak with Stonewall himself. It did leave her question on the status of the battle unanswered but she accepted that there were pressing matters than her own curiosity.

She took note of her two guards who stood nearly. Quigley and Cantrell were hovering protectively near her but moving nearly constantly as they looked to keep out of the way of the bustling medical staff. Quigley’s uniform was bloody around his shoulder from the bombing but he was as stoic as ever, unblinking even though it had to hurt. They both looked tired but alert, holding their weapons close and turning to every little noise no matter how insignificant it was or safe they should have been. That was what it took to be a bodyguard she supposed and they had good reason to be paranoid even here.

“You should get that seen to Paul,” she said to him softly.

The tall Alversian glanced once at the wound and shook his head, “It’s only a scratch ma’am. It hadn’t even gone down to the bone, it looks much worse than it is.”

“Even so, perhaps if a doctor could just look at it-“

“-there are people here who need help more than I do, Ambassadress,” he said in a patient tone but one that suggested he was not going to move on the issue, “I will be fine for a few hours yet.”

She shook her head at the man’s stubbornness and looked around once more. She was looking for a particular person but even though he stood out in any crowd, there was no sign of Ceyrn anywhere.

“Have you seen Master Ceyrn?” She asked the two in the hope that they might have noticed him slip out given how alert they were.

Both Quigley and Cantrell’s taken aback looks suggested they had not been prepared for such a question and both glanced around to see, as the Diplomat had observed, he was no longer in the medical bay, “sorry ma’am, no,” Cantrell answered as they both shook their heads.

“Perhaps we should look for him,” She looked hesitantly to Lorde, reluctant to leave her side now that Lunessa had already done so.

Quigley laughed humourlessly, “Ambassadress, if anyone is capable of taking care of themselves in this city, its him.”

That mollified the Ambassadress enough that she turned her attention back to Lorde, squeezing her hand gently, “how are you holding up?” she asked her companion, “Feeling a bit better I hope?”

Alversian Embassy, Tranquietel

“God-fucking-damnit,” Cahill launched into a string of curses which carried across the tannoy system for a brief moment before he cut the feed to the drone and instead just watched on one of the many sensors that the floating battery had to offer. He watched as the royalist troops turned and gave battle to the attacking guards units who, it seemed, had turned traitor. He smirked as he thought about that and wondered just who the hell wasn’t a traitor in this damned galaxy. First the mess on Setulan and now this. All they needed was Sammi Mathias to come back to life and the circle of betrayal was complete.

He only had to watch the footage for all of thirty seconds to know how badly outmatched his new allies were and the first volley seemed to put most of them out of action. He shook his head and cursed again, the swearwords flowing easily from his lips as he flicked on the communicator within his helmet,
“Alpha-Epilson, drop smoke, grid reference FS143-25.28, fire for effect. Drones CC-352 and CC-353, tortoise mode on friendly Pokosians, confirm command.”

The three responses came almost simultaneously,
“Roger that, firing for effect!”
“COMMAND CONFIRMED.”
“COMMAND CONFIRMED.”

Beyond the walls, the effects were nearly as simultaneous as the commands had been given. Two of the drones which had been hovering to near ground level lifted themselves into the air and raced over the wall protecting the embassy with a loud hum of repulsior engines. As soon as they had cleared the shattered masonry they dived for the ground just in front of the Royalist Pokosian formation. The impact sent heavy tremors through the ground as each buried itself several inches into the road. As soon as they had planted themselves, a flash of energy rose from those thick, grey-painted hulls and shrouded the Pokosians in a transparent bubble that faded away to transparency. Shots which had been striking the troops now instead seemed to fizzle and die in front of them like a firework running out of steam before their very faces.

No sooner had the shield gone up then the familiar whistling broke the noise of battle. Startling at a low pitch it increased until it was frantic in its urgency. A series of flashes erupted between the two formations before thick smoke began to billow from spent shells as if someone had set fire to an oil slick running down the middle of the road. The smoke seemed to sparkle with electricity as heavy static rose up like a wall to block sensors and confuse targeting systems.

“Alpha-Epilson, high explosive, grid reference FS143-25.31, fire at will. I repeat, fire at will.”

“Roger that, firing at will!”

As soon as he had heard the confirmation, Cahill picked up on the steady ‘thunk-thunk-thunk’ as if one was knocking on a heavy wooden door. The whistling came again only this time it was louder and sounded as if a choir of death were on its way. Explosive shells began to rain down upon the Guards formation, blowing feet of road out from under them and throwing it as casually as if it were flecks of paint. To either side, the walls of the buildings facing onto the road simply gave way as the explosive force tore at their roots and shredded them from beneath bringing both masonry and dust onto the street to join the hell that already inhabited it.

“Angel Squad,” Cahill ordered again, watching the chaos unfold from his trusty drone sensor, “roll out and engage at range.”

“Understood, rolling out.”

He could hear the rumble from beneath him as the doors to the embassy garage opened slowly and out rolled three Ayers IFVs of the sort which had entrenched themselves in the garden. Two of these were armed with the 20mm automatic cannons that had cut the upper floors of the surrounding buildings to ribbons while the third had replaced the flat turret with a larger square whose face was sealed.

The three tanks rumbled forward down the road and towards the gate which opened with a single flick of Cahill’s wrist. The two automatic Ayers split, one going to the left of the gate and the other going to the right while the third which had the strange turret remained just within the grounds and staring down the street. The two Ayers turned their turrets on the smoke and instantly the air with filled with a teeth-chattering whirr as thousands of high explosive and armour-piercing rounds stabbed through the smokescreen to not so much dismantle the road but to eviscerate it and everything which stood on it. The third Ayers did not fire but the front face melted away to reveal four large rockets which sat in tubes ready. A drone hovering high above the smoke and the devastation feed co-ordinates to the IFV, locking on to the tank so that the vehicle itself would need to pass through its protective smoke screen.

The shot itself was all but invisible to the naked eye. Even within the shield, the force of its passing was tenable as it punched a large hole through the smoke and locked on to the tank. It would hit its mark before the Ayers gunner could even take his finger from the fire-button.

Orbit, Pokos

The fire from the surface was entirely expected and yet at the same time there was little the Alversians could do to prepare themselves for it as they found the space in which they sat suddenly filled with lethal projectiles coming up from the planet itself. The corvette APS Curt, a six year old veteran of the Great Danaversian War was hit square by one of the impacts and fell out of formation like a fly that had been swatted away by a great hand. Smoke poured out from the small hull as it wept debris. Immediately, Search and Rescue shuttles were launched from the bigger ships, needing no orders to go to their comrades’ aide even as a pitiful number of escape pods began to jettison from the doomed warship.

Another ship, the cruiser Ochre was also struck but unlike the smaller corvette, it’s defences were barely enough for it to hold. The whole vessel rolled over onto one side and those who watched at first feared that it was in its death kneels as smoke poured from its open wound. To their relief, the Ochre slowly began to right itself once more and the smoke which had once covered its hull began to wilt and fade as it was slowly strangled from within the hull of the Achilles-Class vessel.

Harris had watched these two events without a flicker of emotion, nor had he reacted as the S&R vessels had launched immediately from his hangar. He was watching the surface as the tactical readout of the planet lit up with the positions of the guns which were now starting to cause real casualties amongst his small task force. Pinned in position by both the rebel fleet on the other side of the planet and by the Setulan forces which were landing their troops behind him, Harris knew he had little choice but to sit and just soak up whatever the Pokosians thought they could throw at him.

He barely heard the call behind him from the Operations Officer but nodded to acknowledge a very welcome update, “Admiral Sir, reinforcements jumping in.”

Sure enough, space behind the Alversian fleet rippled and flashed as twenty two new signatures appeared. Right amongst them all were two great capital ships of the Alversian fleet. Each was identical; over a kilometre long and unusually shaped, not the dagger shape that was a signature of Alversian warships but instead a long hexagon with stubby points at both the front and the back. They shone in the dark silver and red livery of the Alversian People’s Navy and they did not possess much heavy weaponry only a few turrets and sensor nodes. The only marker of their purpose were the hangar doors all long both sides of her hull, armoured and sealed against any attempt to exploit a supposed weakness. These were the Lionel-Class Carriers APS Courageous and APS Ark Republic, along with the respective task forces which protected and aided them in their fights. The Heavy Cruiser Belleisle was there, as were 4 Cruisers, 2 Light Cruisers, the Survey Cruiser Eliphas and a further 8 corvettes along with transport ships that carried the Alversian contingent to battle.

“Admiral Harris, transmission from the Ark Republic, it’s Vice-Admiral Kell, he says his ships are under your command.”

Harris nodded at the Communications Officer and smiled. No doubt the Silarian Vice-Admiral aboard the carriers had been ordered to subvert himself to Harris who was both senior to him in rank and had been on the ground longer thus having greater understanding of the situation. Meros’Kell-Airon could be temperamental and stubborn, especially for a Silarian, but he was also very good at what he did and what he did was lead carriers.

“We have been ordered to neutralise those guns, request of Vice-Admiral Kell to soften the way in preparation for potential ground landing.”

“Yes Sir, transmitting now.”

APS Ark Republic

Of all the surprises Naval Rating Daniel Liffey had encountered during his time in the Naval Air Force, one of the things that still stuck out now after all this time was how uncomfortable the flight suit was. It was designed for one thing, sitting in the cramped cockpit of a fighter, and that made it distinctly uncomfortable when performing any other activity. One of those activities was getting into said cockpit and there was a fair amount of grunting and cursing as he slipped into the welcomingly snug enclosure that was his XX-40 fighter. Except of course, it wasn’t. It was a pod deep within the bowls of the Ark Republic while his real fighter was being tended to by numerous ground crew. He began the procedure of starting up the complicated craft, reeling off the steps from memory and within minutes he heard the hearty thrum as his pod simulated the sound of engines whirring up. Procul really was a marvellous system, one that allowed him to fight in the maelstrom of battle without ever risking himself. He was definitely grateful for it given how often he’d seen the ‘SIGNAL LOST’ message inside his simulated cockpit. The Squadron liked to joke that he’d made more Danaversian aces than anyone else in the Alversian armed forces.

As he sat in his cockpit and stared out at the launch tube where he waited patiently for the light just by his left knee to go from red to green. He went over the briefing over and over in his head. There were three surface-to-orbit batteries clustered around the same region that were firing on the AXIS fleet and they needed to be removed. There was talk that the Marines would need to hit the ground to disable them permanently but scans showed there nearly 500 aircraft in the area and 250 in the air on CAP. They would make any attempted landing difficult and threatened the Marines with heavy casualties. So here he was, part of NFS-111 Squadron as they prepared to launch as part of the first wave; 104 XX-40 fighters of which 44 were from Ark Republic who were to conduct a thermospheric fighter sweep and then form top cover. Ten minutes later, a second wave would hit the airfields and air defences as well as local military infrastructure and known rebel barracks, 88 XB-99 Bombers and 82 XH-137 heavy fighters escorted by 96 XX-40s. The third wave would be ten minutes after that; 80 XB-99s, 48 XH-137s and 64 XX-40s who would mop up what was left and hit the facilities themselves. They would not be alone in their task but the thought of the upcoming combat made him smile. There were nerves but there was also a thrill. This was what he had joined up for after all.

“XFS-111, flight control. Prepare to launch.” A voice said in his head. Liffey stopped wondering and checked his controls one last time. He checked the uplink in particular with the Eliphas and saw the signal was strong. That was a relief. It would be an embarrassingly short fight otherwise.

“XFS-111, launch!” The light beside him went green.

With a lurching rush, Liffey found himself in space along with a hundred other fighters plus those of the escort who were protecting the Alversian ships. He checked the HUD and saw that all systems were good. He formed up with his squadron and the others from both Ark Republic and Courageous. He heard the gruff voice of his Squadron leader,
“All fighters, in position, lock targets and fire.”

Liffey turned back to his targeting computer where it was connected up to the Survey Cruiser with the fleet and extended the range to the point that he could see every Pokosian aircraft in the air even from so far away. He waited patiently until his targeting computer had picked out four separate targets and then a little longer while it was locked,
“Launching,” he said over the comm system, “Fox Four.”

His simulated cockpit juddered as he dropped four missiles and they spread out like a cloud, joining the others as they spiralled and spun their way towards their targets. From so far out, the four hundred missiles would take a minute or so to reach their targets but they would be relentless until they hit their mark.

At the same time, the guns of the Light Cruiser APS Raheem turned towards the first of the surface batteries and fired; firing a half dozen shells each weighing twelve tons towards the surface. They were high explosive rounds, not the solid shot that be used to kill planets but then that was not the intention. The Alversians knew exactly what it was they were firing at.
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17/01/2010

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04/06/2018

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16/12/2021

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11/02/2022

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O Boyce
Diplomat
 
Posts: 507
Founded: Apr 22, 2007
Ex-Nation

Postby O Boyce » Wed Aug 05, 2015 10:06 pm

Augesh 14 2630 SFY,
City of Tranquietel, Pokos
Flock of Temporal Investigations Office


After a brief but very important conversation with the Setulan trooper that had joined him in the office that he now resided in and used as the location where he directed all Royalist military movements in the city, Stonewall felt a moment of relief. After an entire night of heavy fighting in which the High Tar had been wounded and put into a coma, half or more of the military defecting, and death littering the streets of the Pokosian capital for the first time in centuries it was a shock that he felt that way. He shook his head in disbelief at it all, but he could not allow himself the luxury of being able to contemplate such things. He had to save his beloved country from tearing itself apart. And he would do no matter what he needed to, even if that meant taking drastic steps. Even as he had ordered the cities defenses to be shut down the enemy was striking even harder at the Royalist positions. He could see the oncoming Freedom party attack coming in as he looked on. The attacks had intensified as soon as the Setulan infinity troopers had dropped into the city.

There was a strange desperateness to the attacks. From the reports that he was getting from Royalist positions all across the city that the Foot Guards and other Freedom party forces were striking everywhere and striking hard. Yet he did not see any point to the attacks. They were strong across the board, no one attack was any less stronger or weaker and there seemed to be no objective other than to keep Royalist forces and its allies from getting a good grasp of the whole situation. It drove him mad, but he kept his worries buried and he focused on his task, and he needed to get an upper hand, at any cost.

There was a shuffle from the shadows of the small office and the faint aroma of Mallornis flower, which instantly informed Stonewall who was now in the room with him.

“You always skulk around like that or are you doing it special, just for me” Stonewall said into the shadows.

“I do it just for you Flock Marshall” The feminine voice stated crisply.

“Pocksea, I take it you wanted to have words with me” Stonewall said, finally turning around to face the shadowy form at the edge of the room.

“As I told you many years ago, you will find me available to you when you need me” Pocksea stated again, in her cold, matter of fact voice.

“Or when it is convenient for you” Stonewall replied.

“What is convenient for me is always convenient for the Commonwealth” Pocksea responded.

Stonewall slammed his feathered fist into the table in frustration and looked back up into the shadows.

“Damnit Pocksea, I know why you are here and what I must ask of you, must you make this so difficult?” Stonewall spoke, perhaps in tones a little louder than he would of liked.

“All you must do is ask. I know you would do anything to preserve the Commonwealth and at any cost” Pocksea stated, not letting the Flock Marshalls frustration phase her.

“You are right” Stonewall sighed, finally admitting what he must do “Director Pocksea, I want you to activate the Black Guard Initiative. Do you require anything from me?”

“No Flock Marshall, all of our agents are in place. All we require is your authorization and we will get to our work” Pocksea stated in acknowledgement.

“You have my permission. The Black Guard Initiative is to round up anyone; military, civilian, political, nobility that has any association with the Freedom Party and after they are tortured for information, shall either be imprisoned or killed on the spot regardless of rank or social position. All military units that are not proven to be completely loyal to the crown shall suffer decimation” Stonewall stated, his beak tight out of the distaste for the words he spoke.

“And Flock Marshall Singalee?” Pocksea inquired.

“Flock Marshall Singalee shall be left out of the loop, as to place him above reproach” Stonewall stated, resigning himself to his decision.

“Plausible deniability, understood Flock Marshall” Pocksea said, and without another word slipped deeper into the shadows and disappeared.

Stonewall turned once more to look out over the grounds of the FTI offices and watched as the battle raged, phasers pulsing through the night, explosions, troops moving in their battle lines closer and closer to the walls of the offices even though taking severe casualties, much like his morality had done moments before. But he knew he would do anything to save the Commonwealth. This fell under anything. He set his beak into a hard line as he thought about that and hated the decision he just made, it was a desperate one, but a necessary one should he be able to pull some sort of miracle out of this nightmare. All across the night he knew that Black Guard agents would be knocking on doors, pulling people from their beds, and killing people in the streets, then again a lot of that was going on already.

A low ranking officer strode into the office and saluted crisply, and relaxed when Stonewall returned the military formality. The officer, although looking slightly frazzled still cut the perfect line of a member of FLOCKCOMM staff. By the age of the officer Stonewall could tell that he could not have been on staff for long before the rebellion had started. As such, the officer, even though there was a rebellion to fight still had an air of arrogance that many of the FLOCKCOMM staff carried. Stonewall detested it, but he had to use what he had and if that meant dealing with the stiff feathers of an officer that thought that his splatter didn’t stink he would have to deal with it, or at least knock him down a few branches.

“You have a report?” Stonewall asked matter of factly.

“Yes sir, the latest from our units fighting across the city. You were right sir, the attacks are diversionary. Rebel troops are pulling back down to the base of the city, many units seen entering Terminus park and setting up positions. The Cardinarian Corps appears to be setting up a position along the Mountainside Canal not much further away” The officer reported.

Stonewall now knew that something was wrong with the rebel attacks. Now he could respond accordingly. He formulated a plan in his mind. The rebels were pulling back, using heavy attacks across the city to keep the Royal forces from seeing the whole picture. He still didn’t have all of it, but since the arrival of AXIS forces the tide had indeed turned during this battle. Perhaps he could get a leg up on the next.

“Send a message to commanders of the units here on the grounds. They are to hold their ground and as soon as the suns come up we shall strike back with force. I would like to meet with both his Majesty and all available AXIS commanders for a coordinated effort” Stonewall ordered.

The officer saluted again, turned on his talons and headed out of the door, sending messengers to their respective recipients.

Augesh 14 2630 SFY,
City of Tranquietel, Pokos
Humbistean District


Fury burned red hot inside Johm. After the unpleasant encounter with the Setulan infinity trooper he had continued to burn with rage. He would occasionally catch one of the other battalion officers looking his way and the look he gave them was a look that was a sharp as daggers and spoke volumes about what he would do to them if they even thought about questioning him or his orders. He would even throw that look back at the Setulan trooper that had insulted his honor. It was borderline distracting to Johm. He kept having to focus on the battle at hand and got a strange satisfaction when he would see a Setulan trooper fall to rebel fire. That was not to say he was happy about it, but to know that he was being avenged by the same people he was fighting calmed him. He also knew that his own people were falling as well. More than he would like in a fight like this. The Sword of the Tar was the most elite unit in the Commonwealth. It was supposed to hold its own in any situation, but here, he was seeing cracks in the plaster as it were. He was starting to see cracks in his own personality as well which was alarming.

Where Johm stood in the center of the forum, he could see the action that raged at the two entrances. The modest reserves that he had pulled back included a half battalion of the freshest troops available to plug any rebel breakthrough. It was there, under the fluttering banner of his unit that Johm stood in silence as he observed the situation. At each gate he had a half battalion of troopers and two three inch guns behind a carefully laid barricade of transports, paving stones, and supply crates from the districts armory that were now empty. A formidable position to try to take, not to mention the tall walls that flanked them lined with even more troopers and Setulan troops that had now taken positions to support the beleaguered Sword of the Tar. Johm was very happy with the way his troopers were handling themselves. Crisp, well-coordinated fire was coming from the barricades, volley after volley of phaser fire washed down the road into the attacking Grenadier Guards. The quick firing three inch guns were lobbing high explosive and anti-personnel rounds down range at a healthy clip. The gun crews were moving as smooth as quicksilver as they serviced their guns. All of their effort and fire, even with the support of the Setulans was not enough. The Grenadier Guards continued forward until they came to a stop not far from the barricade. They delivered two quick volleys, which sent sparks and bodies flying as the defenders shields either took the rebel fire or failed under the pressure of multiple hits and the phaser bolt melted through the apparatus and into the trooper holding it. The two volleys had done what they were meant, keeping the defenders heads down while the first rank of the Grenadier Guards lobbed photon grenades at the barricade.

Troopers dodged left and right as they attempted to get away from the grenades but that only served to open their ranks and make the vunerable. As the grenades detonated the second rank of the Grenadier Guards put one more volley out and it struck the gates defenders in a haze of phaser fire and explosions. The Guards rushed forward with a shout and began to scale the barricade, fighting hand to hand with those Sword troopers that had not succumbed to the concentrated assault. Johm looked on with anticipation as he watched the scene unfold.

“Hold, they have got to hold” Johm muttered under his breath angrily, letting out some of the rage that was bubbling inside him.

Hold the Sword troopers did, for a while, swords flashing as their owners plied them with practiced skill, phaser fire flashing in the mass of writhing bodies, the screams and yells of soldiers doing their utmost to kill their enemy. After a few long moments Sword troopers were starting to pull out of the mass of fighting and rushing back to where Johm stood with the reserve. The survivors started to form up with the reserve and that was when Johm heard from the mass of fighting ahead the words he did not want to hear and the words that he would do anything to stop come from fruition.

“Turn the guns on them!” Came a commanding voice from the crowd of fighting.

That was it, Johm had to act. If the rebels got the guns turned they could turn the entire forum into a killing field.

“PREPARE TO FIRE BY BATTALION!” Johm screeched at the top of his lungs

“But sir, we still have some men in there fighting!” exclaimed the bugler who was standing next to him.

“Acceptable losses, we can’t let them turn the guns” Johm said coldly right before he gave the next command “READY!”

The reserve pulled their shields in front of them and raised their staff phasers up at a forty five degree angle over their shields.

“AIM!”

“ARMERELOS! ARMERELOS! ARMERELOS!” The troopers shouted as they brought their staff phasers down like a line of pikes.

Some of the troopers in the mass ahead started to pull out to each side, not many though.

“FIRE!”

A hot wave of phaser fire rushed over the fighting at the main gate, dozens fell immediately some friend some foe. The rebels were scattered now, still fighting hand to hand for the barricade and reeling from the volley they had just taken. Johm drew his sword, the same sword that not long ago he had threated the Setulans life with.

“CHARGE!”

Johm rushed forward, with his reserve hot on his heels. It did not take long for him to reach the fighting. When he did he swung with great ferocity, left and right, his saber cutting deep into flesh and bone. A Grenadier Guard swung down with his staff phaser like a club and Johm met it with his saber. Sparks flew as both metal objects made contact, Johm’s saber sliding down the barrel and butt of the phaser in a shower followed by the sick, green branch snap of his saber cutting through the bone of the enemy soldiers wing. The Grenadier Guard fell away screeching in pain while Johm took on his next target. Onward he pushed, his reserved adding their sharp blades and phaser fire to the fight. It was not long until he could see the barricade and at one of the guns a group of rebels trying to turn it around to use it on the Sword.

“ARMERELOS!” Johm chirped at the top of his lungs and he lunged forward.

He could feel the rage of his encounter with the Setulanite flowing through his veins, he could feel every feather of his body, every talon, every cell burning with it and he used all of that energy and directed it to the rebels at the gun crew. The rebels had not noticed him coming at them, too busy with trying to turn the gun that they paid little heed to the fighting around them. The first one to notice brought his phaser to bear but it was too late, Johm swung his blade in a looping arc, cutting under the rebel and slicing into his legs. He went down quickly and Johm finished him with a jab to the chest, the sabre sliding into the rebel along his keel and piercing deep inside. Johm tried to pull the saber out but he could not, it was too far in. He abandoned it and pushed on, drawing his hand phaser. Two more of the rebels and taken notice of his attack and began to react but were burnt down by phaser fire from behind Johm, the last of the rebels leapt in to attack, wings outstretched and talons ready to tear into flesh. Johm leapt as well, both of their bodies tangling in a struggle for dear life. They both tumbled around the base of the gun. The rebel punched Johm in the torso, not causing much pain but knocking the wind out of him. Gasping for breath Johm rolled to the side just missing another jab which instead of hitting him hit the ground, making the rebel leap back tenderly holding onto his feathered hand. That gave Johm the window he needed and he leapt forward and grasped the rebels throat in his beak and twisted savagely. The rebel didn’t have the time to react and with a quick twist the rebels neck was snapped.

Panting a little Johm let the dead rebel fall to the ground and began to assess the situation. His reserve had done the trick, the Grenadier Guard was being pushed back, but there was another line marching up to support. When it rained it poured. He looked over at the gun, then back at the situation. The gun had barely been moved, the ammunition crates still sat untouched next to it. If he could get the gun back into action the upcoming rebels would not have a chance.

“You three troopers!” Johm shouted through the din of fighting at the three nearest troopers who were firing from behind part of the barricade.

They all obeyed his summons and he put them to work positioning the gun back to where it needed to be, then he started to bark orders.

“You boys every handle a gun?” He asked.

All of them nodded in acknowledgement. Every trooper of the Sword were trained on all military equipment.

“Load the gun, double canister” Johm orderd

The troopers obeyed, opening the hatch of the gun and sliding what looked like an over seized tin can into the breech before dogging it closed. Inside that round were hundreds of metal balls, turning the three inch gun into a giant shotgun, not something it normally did, but none the less the standard Commonwealth artillery caisson carried three crates of the round just in case.

“Loaded sir!” shouted one of the troopers.

“CLEAR THE HUBS!” Johm shouted. The three troopers made sure they were out of the way of the wheels to the gun.

“FIRE!”

The gun roared, lighting up the scene with a bright muzzle flash. From the oncoming troops Johm could see and hear a giant hole being blasted into the line. It staggered, but kept moving forward.

“Again” Johm ordered.

For the next five minutes Johm and the three troopers worked the gun, sending round after round downrange. Blasting holes in the attackers line until it started to fall apart and the attacking rebels began to fall back in disorder. Seeing that their relief was not coming the rebels that were still fighting over the barricade started to pull back too, and Johm was more than happy to give them several rounds of double canister as well for their trouble. Not long later the entire city had fallen silent, with the exception of the sounds of the wounded and the fires that raged across the city.

Johm leaned on the wheel of the gun he had been servicing and took stock of himself. He no longer felt the bubbling rage, it was gone. But he did feel empty, a strange kind of empty. Like he had lost part of himself and he would never get it back. A creeping sadness that he never thought he could feel and he knew that he was breaking. He knew that he was showing it too. That was when the messanger came running up to him from somewhere else in the forum.

“Sir, message from Flock Marshall Stonewall. Prepare to counter attack at dawn. Enemy falling back to the base of the mountain”

Johm looked around, and for the first time in perhaps the entire history of the first regiment of the Sword of the Tar, he did not think they could make any attack let alone a counter attack.

“You can inform the Flock Marshall that the First Sword is in no shape to continue hostilities until we get rest and resupply. We simply do not have it in us” Johm responded with a sigh “By all means though, find the Setulan commander of the Infinity troopers here, he will want to know the orders as well”

The messenger saluted, took off to find the Setulan officer, meanwhile Johm first made sure his remaining troopers were taken care of, and well positioned for a possible rebel attack. After those two important things were done, he began to go to the fallen troopers of his command and collecting their identification tags, adding them to the growing bundle that was already bulging in his haversack. It was a solemn duty, but he owed his men that much.

Augesh 14 2630 SFY,
City of Tranquietel, Pokos
Embassy District


All hell had broken loose around the Alversian embassy. The Royalist troops that were attempting to hold their own were heavily outclassed. The Foot Guards were pushing hard and with the Alversian troops were not holding, but that was not the end of the Freedom party attack. The Foot Guards were slowly pulling back from the onslaught from the sudden Alversian attack that was now covering the Royalists. The dead lay everywhere among the rubble and destroyed vehicles that now filled the street. There was a reason the rebels were pulling back though. Through the mist and smoke of the fighting the rebels had wheeled up two quick firing three inch guns and began to service them in quick order. In ten seconds both of those guns put out just as many rounds, a mixture of canister, high explosive and armor piercing, all directed at multiple targets across the small battlefield that the street had become. Many rounds found themselves striking the higher priority targets of the Alversian armor and drones.

From behind the Royalists lumbered a MKIII hovertank that was bringing up the rear of the column that had been marching uphill. It was struck by six armor piercing rounds that knocked it out in quick work, the crew bailing out before it careened into a nearby building and burned, sending a greasy black cloud of smoke into the already smokey roadway. More rounds from the three inch guns blew down the road at any target of interest.

Augesh 14 2630 SFY,
City of Tranquietel, Pokos
Terminus Park


The hustle and bustle of military operations filled the air around the military tent that had been thrown up on the south side of the park that lined the base of the massive mountain city. At the moment, it was directly in the middle of the new line that Madison was preparing to repulse Royalist attacks since the arrival of the AXIS forces that had started to drop down hours ago. That had put a hamper on her plans to seize the city without having to put it to a siege. She did not want to do that, especially when the city that she would have to siege was as big as Tranquietel and was full of stockpiles of supplies that she was unable to pull out of the city before her retreat.

The park itself was a very pleasant. Across the middle of the park loomed the ruins of the massive city walls that had stood for centuries, dotted with moss and vines of plants that added to the visible age of each stone that was carefully laid to protect the city. Tall trees dotted the park like setting, giving shade to the various visitors to the park in peace time. Now they were just one more variable to a military formulation. Just north of the walls was where the Freedom Party army, minus the Guard Corps that was slowly retreating from their attacks across the city. Through her scope she could see that the battle at the summit had not gone well. As the horizon started to glow with the rise of the suns that was soon to come she only hoped that the Guard Corps would be able to extricate themselves in good order. There was still heavy smoke around the Embassy District and the FTI offices on the mountain spur to the west. She had given the order to pull back after she discovered that the attacks on the summit were being thrown back with heavy losses. If the Royalists from the summit had struck then they could of split the Guard Corps would have been split, but from the reports that she was getting the Sword of the Tar forces and the AXIS allies were just as battered as the troops they had repulsed.

Madison’s thoughts were broken by a speeder that buzzed up next to the tent and the rider hopped off, rushing over to her and pumping a wing into the air in the Freedom Party salute. Madison returned the salute and nodded to the messenger.

“I have a report” The messenger stated.

“Then tell me” Madison responded.

“The Cardinarian Corps is forming on the far left of the line. They are taking positions on the other side of the Mountainside Canal and are digging in. Artillery and anti air batteries have been emplaced and they also bring word that several regiments from Kaz and Weber have joined them on their march”

Madison nodded as she took in the message.

“Return to them and inform them that they are to shell any advancing Royalist forces to allow the Foot Guards to retire” Madison ordered.

With that the messenger got back on his speeder and disappeared into the distance. Not too far away some of the artillery that was already in place, started to lob shells into the spaceport where AXIS forces had pushed Freedom party troops out. It was not a heavy shelling, but a harassing one to distract the enemy from the real battle. Madison nodded in approval and went back to observing the retreat of the Foot Guards. She needed them and with as rapid as their retreat was, the only place that now showed any sign of the retreat were the billows of smoke over the Embassy district now.

Augesh 14 2630 SFY,
Pokos, Orbit


Even with the rebel fleet now sidelined that did not mean the battle in orbit was over. The GTO guns on the planet’s surface and those on the moon that had fallen to rebel hands were launching shell after shell into orbit at the AXIS fleet. To add to the confusion and not to be forgotten the rebel fleet which was now sitting barely out of range was launching long range pot shots at the AXIS fleet, including torpedoes, high yield nuclear ordinance, and all manner of long range weapons. They were determined to make it very difficult for the AXIS fleet for as long as they were there. That also included the sudden arrival of the massive Alversian ships, some of the long range fire was directed in that direction as well. Including a salvo of nuclear warheads from the pocket battleship that was now in better condition than it had been earlier in the battle.

As the Alversian attack on the GTO facilities around Cardinair began, dozens of aircraft were smacked down from the sky with the oncoming fire. Immediately ground forces activated their electronic warfare suites, sending hundreds of sensor shadows everywhere to give the fighters in the air a chance to survive. Planes that were not already in the air were launched immediately. The fire from the carriers was well aimed. Striking the massive shields protecting the facility and making their defensive shields glow bright blue in the night, illumining the night. One of the rounds missed the facility and plowed into the industrial complex right next to it, sending an equally spectacular ball of fire and destruction into the air and causing fires to rage through the small complex that contained computer manufactories, storehouses. The battle for the facilities had just begun and whomever held these facilities held orbit.
Last edited by O Boyce on Thu Aug 06, 2015 8:58 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Proud Barony of the Galactic Empire
FT: Pokosian Commonwealth
MT: Commonwealth of O Boyce
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Xiscapia
Postmaster-General
 
Posts: 12868
Founded: Mar 13, 2007
Democratic Socialists

Postby Xiscapia » Tue Aug 25, 2015 12:36 am

Augesh 13 2630 SFY,
City of Tranquietel, Pokos
Flock of Temporal Investigations Office


As soon as Kine jumped away Enomoto could only stare at the depressions that her armored feet had made in the ground. Lunessa wasn't gone in most senses of the word, she was still alive and not even all that far away, but he had no way of knowing when he might see her again. Something bumped his hand and the Ambassador-turned-Tar blinked and looked down to see Sif nudging against his hand with a roll of the tongue. He'd been so preoccupied that he hadn't even noticed the great winged lupine come up to him, but he eased a hand down to behind her ears and itched them. Her wounds had been bandaged and she didn't seem any worse for wear despite the bullets and shrapnel that had embedded themselves in her flesh.

"Hey girl," he said to her as she wagged her tail. "I'm glad you're still here. I wish I had something for you but I didn't think I'd need dog treats at Armerelos's coronation," his smile faded quickly enough after that as he looked back to the base's doors. The High Tar was in there somewhere, probably still being operated on. Yet as far as the nation was concerned he was effectively dead, and Enomoto had unwillingly inherited his job. Sighing, he looked up at Bolton in time to see his bodyguard tense. The Pokosian messenger who had been running up slowed considerably, stopped a respectful distance away.

"Mi'lord," the messenger gave a quick bow. "General Stonewall would like to meet with you in person."

"Of course," Enomoto straightened up. "Ambassadress," he got both Lorde and Toal's attention that way, "a moment, please. I've just been invited up to General Stonewall's office and I think you should both come with me. As far as I can tell right now you're both the closest thing the General has to representatives from the military forces of your nations. I'm sure he'd value your input and since I've been invited as High Tar," he took a breath, "frankly, so would I. Thank you," he nodded to each of them and, regardless of whether they came or not, the kitsune led the way with Bolton in front of him and Sif padding up the stairs just behind.

Minutes later they were all assembled and Stonewall had just explained his plan to wait until dawn. Bolton was the first to speak.

"That's fucking retarded."

"Melissa!" Enomoto turned on his Setulanite guard, who had her helmet down and was staring at Stonewall. "You're talking to General Stonewall. Show him respect."

"Sir," she said without taking her eyes off the Pokosian. "My apologies, sir. With all due respect, sir, that's fucking retarded, sir." Before anyone could stop her she continued. "AXIS troops on the ground are fresh in this fight and they have night vision, two qualities that the enemy lacks. If you stop now you're giving them the chance to dig in and prepare for the counterattack. Sir, if you wait you're actually giving the advantage to the enemy by allowing them to rest and fortify. You should be counterattacking, and you should be doing it now."

Augesh 13 2630 SFY,
City of Tranquietel, Pokos
Humbistean District


Yemon was at a loss for words. He'd heard of international rivalries, verbal beatdowns by officers on other officers and even the rare story about how this Ferran or that Xenohuman went a little too far and ended up with a bullet in his back from his own troops. But the Warrant had never heard of one officer pointing a sword at another, only to be shoved and pushed to the ground by said officer as each threatened to kill the other. It was only when Johm finally ran to his troops that he felt like he could breathe again. Thank the Emperor it didn't come to blows.

"Belay those orders you just put out, Warrant. Get your troops back here. You've just been assigned to my PSD. Ten more marines won't make a difference when I have five thousand troopers on the walls. But ten marines could make a big difference behind the lines. Besides, if you stick around my CP you'll have a better ear for where the bigwigs are."

"Ma'am," he nodded. Squad, fall back on me, except for Qell and Taden. You two need to reposition to a location where you can cover the command post. Anyone starts shooting at it or advancing on it, you take them down. The rest of you, defensive positions around the Colonel. We're her personal security detail now.

More like keeping closer to her will keep us alive, Ima said.

Pipe down and haul ass, Private. Yemon followed behind Wildner as the other eight members of his squad coalesced around him. It wasn't long before his troops had formed up into the same kind of configuration he had ordered for the wall, save that they were now clustered around the command post. Ramas and Ima were anti-tank just outside while Palu and Jackie manned the 20mm cannon set up between two fallen pillars to provide suppressive fire within the forum itself, just in case Freedom Party troops broke through. Heather was constantly hovering within arm's reach of Wilder in case she somehow got hit, with Jo and Humiya pulling guard duty outside. Inside Yemon couldn't help but look over the Setulanite woman's shoulder, or rather around it, for a glimpse of the battle map. In a lull he looked up at her.

"How's the fight going, Colonel?"
Xis quote of the week: Altaria Almighty: how are you not just a race of sexual predators? Like who needs power armour and gauss rifles when you have leather and whips. –Karaig
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Setulan
Ambassador
 
Posts: 1308
Founded: Feb 02, 2008
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Setulan » Tue Aug 25, 2015 10:55 am

Spaceport


Mohr stepped outside of his impromptu command building and watched with mild interest as the harassing fire from the Freedom Party artillery burst harmlessly on the bubble shield being projected from his command lander. The heavy vehicle, now halfway dug into the ground, projected its shield pylon a good twenty meters over its armored flanks and the coruscating energy writhed and crackled as it was impacted by shells. Mohr - who had stood tall under the terrifying bombardment the Danaversians had thrown at him on Ranus VI and lived through the firestorms of Agrimonus - thought the display was almost beautiful.

In a hopeless pathetic way that made him want to kill.

"General!"

"Speak."

"Sir, we are ready to begin the advance. All units are go."

"Outfuckingstanding!" Mohr hurried quickly back into his CP and looked down at the command map. The display, kept up to date by staff officers aboard the Punctan who used their ship's massive EWS array to burn it through to the commanders on the ground, was looking good in the eyes of the veteran officer. 1st and 3rd Brigade were standing tall and ready to move out from the space port, leaving behind two battalions for perimeter security. Eight thousand infantrymen would push from his location towards the Freedom Party units forming by the Mountainside Canal, spearheaded by every SLAM he could muster and his ace in the hole, a battalion of armor that had come down on the heavy landers. Meanwhile his single mechanized battalion would slice into the Foot Guards as they retreated down the mountain, slaughtering the withdrawing enemy. From the peaks, Colonel Wilder's 2nd Brigade would leave behind some troops with the Sword of the Tar to hold the palace while the rest of the Infiniti would move out, following the Foot Guard and harrying them, driving them right into the Maxellians. 4th Brigade, at the Flock of Defense, would also begin a push towards the traitor lines.

All backed up by every air and orbital asset he could bring in.

"Sir, communications coming in from General Stonewall. We're being ordered to hold till dawn."

The big Setulan froze, looking at the Kitsune who had delivered the news.

"What? Fucking seriously?"

"Ah..yes sir. He also requests to speak to you to discuss plans."

"Give the go order. Right now."

"Aye aye!"


Across the spaceport, there was a heavy roar. The 64th Infiniti Division had a single armored battalion attached, and they were sitting in their tanks near the gate. Forty eight Emperor-Class tanks, the mainstay of infantry support in the Republic, idled with their heavy cannons pointed outwards. To their were twelve of the infamous Fury main battle tanks, the mainstay tank killing vehicle for half of the AXIS alliance. And in front of them the command element was standing ready, twin guns panning around as the Beachhead super heavy siege crackers began to clank forward on their twin treads.

In the command vehicle (Fist of the 64th), Lieutenant Colonel Nallao smiled as the green light flashed on his screen. He opened a link to his entire battalion.

"Let's get it on!"

The roaring intensified as the sixty vehicles rumbled forward, casually crushing rubble that stood in their way and powering towards the Mountainside Canal. Behind them two full brigades of infantry began a cautious jog forward, moving in fire elements and leapfrogging their way in support of the tanks. And on the tarmac the massive 200mm guns of the 64th Division's artillery were raised to the sky and began firing, a heavy drumming of fat shells that were fired at a stupendous rate. Their target was the Cardinarian Corps, still digging in as huge shells began to rain on them in their dozens in anticipation of the assault. Some of the shells would detonate on impact with the ground, sending bodies and dirty flying; some were set to detonate above the heads of the unarmored infantry, raining shrapnel on them. Others were filled with white phosphorous to burn them alive and demoralize them, while still more began raining poisonous gas upon their heads. Gas weaponry was a special favorite of the Republic, and they used it to great effect. Against unarmored or unprepared foes, the rain of Devourer gas (which melted flesh), Variety-IX (which caused horrific, weeping sores and blindness on skin and wet, coughing death when inhaled), and Oxide (uncomfortable to infantry but causing massive decay in nearly all known metals) were a deadly combination.

Overhead, another dance was being performed. Half of the Firestorm fighters that had escorted the landers down remained above the spaceport in case the Freedom Party sortied any aircraft, while the other half returned to orbit to rearm with napalm and other air to ground ordnance. Meanwhile, the Bentnose gunships went to work. For the time being they ignored the Cardinarian Corps in favor of another target.

Terminus Park.

Dead in the center of the line, with orders clearly being issued from the location, it stood to reason there were very important targets there. That, combined with the presence of artillery near the park, made it a priority target. For the Freedom Party in the park, there would be little warning; Bentnose pilots were daredevils by nature, and in a cityscape such as this, with anti-aircraft weaponry all over, low flying was the key. Many of the gunships were barely above rooftop level, and slamming forward at speed they would be a horrible surprise to anybody caught below. Perhaps some saw them coming. It wouldn't help overmuch.

Massive ordnance, massive abuse. That was the motto of the the designers when they made the Bentnose gunship, and they succeeded.

Napalm exploded all over the once beautiful park, engulfing it in flames. Door gunners hosed any concentrations of troops with rail fire from their high explosive banshees as the next flight came in, dropping more of the jellied liquid death. AAA barked and spat, smacking several of the heavy Setulan craft from the sky, but they continued to sortie in undeterred. Strike after strike after strike, the gunships screamed in...


Augesh 13 2630 SFY,
City of Tranquietel, Pokos
Humbistean District



"How's the fight going, Colonel?"

Wilder's predatory grin would be answer enough.

The Infiniti troopers didn't simply let the Foot Guards fall back unmolested. Infantry was chasing them down the hill the whole way, engaged in a running gun battle with the Pokosians. Heavy weapons from the walls continued to fire. As the guns of the Freedom Party at the base of the mountain began shelling of the city, attempting to kill Wilder's troopers, her own mortars redirected fire and began lobbing long range shots on the Cardinarian Corp's guns, adding their rain of death to the horrible storm of metal already approaching them.

On the command console, Yemon would be able to see the indicators of the Maxellian Battalion storming forward into place to cut off the retreating foot guards.

"How's it going? The Foot Guards are falling back in disarray, and we're starting to really get them. We're channeling them down the mountain towards our Maxis, which just broke out of the spaceport. If you look over here..." She reached down, panning the map. "The Alvies are pounding the GTO batteries, and we just got word that their relief fleet arrived in full. And do bear in mind that we're still waiting on a Xiscapian relief fleet, which will, I am sure, be delightfully kill heavy. Poor bastards. I hope they get here in time for some fun. We've hurt them, Warrant. But now we're going to buttfuck their souls."


Augesh 13 2630 SFY,
City of Tranquietel, Pokos
Flock of Temporal Investigations Office



Lorde followed Enomoto without hesitation, limping up towards Stonewall's office. She almost laughed out loud at Bolton's outburst, refraining from doing so at the last second. As it was, a small smile might have turned up the corner of her mouth.

"Ah...I think that Sergeant Bolton brings up some valid points, General. I really don't see the point in waiting - "

A rapid series of beeps interrupted her, and General Mohr's head appeared on a holo-plate, looking fuzzy from the shield's interference.

"Stonewall! What the fuck is this hold order? I'm not holding shit! I have begun my attack. My tanks are rolling, my gunships are roaring, and goddamn guns are raping! I'm not waiting till dawn! The dark is mine, gods damnit, and I intend to use it!" He stopped suddenly, realizing for the first time that he wasn't alone.

"Ah. Ah. Ambassadors. Glad you're here and all."
"When you're as big as a Setulan, you can't go very long without breaking something. Usually someone else's face."-Xiscapia

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Alversia
Minister
 
Posts: 3240
Founded: Apr 26, 2007
Ex-Nation

Postby Alversia » Wed Aug 26, 2015 5:57 pm

FTI Offices, Tranquietel, Pokos

Toal watched as the Mech suit roared back up to lord only knew where with the Mate of the new Tar safely encased within its hull. A moment of jealousy washed over her as she wished she had just nodded or said ‘yes’ to the offer when it was given to her. Escape was so close, the chance to get away from this warzone. It had been on instinct that she had said no and as soon as she had said it, she had felt some regret. She was not a soldier after all, she had no experience of war and this was already far beyond her comfort zone. The sight of her business suit, expensive and fragile in a state of tear and wear was enough to inform her of that. In spite of that regret, she felt her resolve stiffen as Enomoto approached and asked for her assistance. She did not reply to him with words, allowing Lorde to do the talking for the pair of them. Instead she just positioned herself so that the Setulanite Ambassadress could place her full weight on the shoulders of the Alversian. As soon as that was pressed down on her all dark and negative thoughts simply evaporated in a puff of smoke to be replaced by the warm and comforting notions that she knew had driven her to reject the Valkyrie offer. Loyalty, companionship, the need to make a difference. There were what encouraged her to take those steps forward. She might have been in a hellish warzone but at least she was here with Lorde and with Enomoto. That thought she clung to as tightly as Lorde held her as they made their way into the central room of the FTI Offices.

There was Stonewall, the General in command of the Pokosian military –or what was left of it- and Enomoto with his guards just behind him. The High Tar, a being who looked every bit the part of a regal as he stood as calmly as one might wait for a bus. Just looking at him, one could never guess that he had just waved goodbye to his wife and brought a dear friend here with only a thread of life within him. Truly if anyone warranted being named High Tar in such dark and uncertain times then the Kitsune Ambassador was one she could get behind. One she would get behind. Behind her, her guards slipped in as calmly and as unruffled as if they were at a ball in the Embassy. Much had to be said for Cantrell and Quigley’s responses to all this too. Really, the Ambassadress was just surrounded by people who knew how to act in just such situations and that brought force a gratitude she could not really explain.

“High Tar,” She bowed her head to him as best she could while supporting the Setulanite, “General.”

She stood in silence and listened as Stonewall explained his plan only have it first questioned by Bolton in the way that only a Setulanite working for Xiscapians could. She herself stayed silent, it was not her place as an Alversian and as a Civilian to discuss military matters and she was acutely aware of that as she watched. From her ear, she could hear the buzz of closed radio chatter between Quigley and Cantrell, with the voice of Quigley reaching her first;

“Wait for dawn? Is he fucking serious?”
“It’s not our place to question his orders, Aideen. Keep a watch for danger.”
“Yeah, it’ll be really hard to spot in a place like this.”
“If you ever say that again, I’ll kick your ass to Malacus from here. Don’t even joke about it.”
“Yeah, sorry, my bad. Even so, waiting until dawn? What’s wrong with our night vision?”
“Are you looking for danger and mouthing off at the same time?”
“I’m multi-tasking.”
“You know the Ambassadress can hear everything right?”
“…ah.”

For her part, Toal did not turn around but she could not stop the corners of her lips from curling slightly upwards. Levity was in short supply these days, she had to take it where she could.

“I am concerned about the civilian casualties the fighting has caused and the risk of further losses, General,” she said in her quiet, patient tone, “can I ask what action has been taken to evacuate them from the danger zone? Have the embassies and amenities been secured? Do we have contact with AXIS to request for further assistance?”

She paused before turning to Mohr’s head, “Good evening Darius,” she bowed her own head to him, “I trust Kimberly is well?”

Alversian Embassy

Cahill could be satisfied as he watched the Guards begin their retreat under the unendurable fire of the three Ayers which were putting out so many rounds that the air was filled with the sound of tearing fabric, loud enough to pierce unprotected eardrums and to make the teeth rattle in your very head. He was just grateful that he was not standing beside one of them when they were firing. At the same time, the whistling of mortar shells and the heavy bang of their impact joined the orchestral noise of war like a great gong that left ears ringing and the very ground shaking. It was small wonder that the Guards were retreating as the street around them was turned into nothing more than a pockmarked, rubble filled waste ground. The retaliatory fire from the Guards phaser staffs was easily absorbed by the embedded drones as they buried themselves in the ground and committed every ounce of their power to the shields that were covering the Royalist forces and their wounded. No sooner had the troops dispersed than the two guns were brought up and suddenly the heavy and steady thud-thud-thud of their fire joined the cacophony of noise that filled the darkening sky over the city. The shots simply pinged off the shields of the drones on the ground but the same could not be said of those who provided a watch over the sky. Diverting their power between shields, weapons, sensors and engines left them more vulnerable and Cahill grimaced as he watched two go down in balls of flame, trails of smoke marking their long descent to a fiery end.

It was then that his radio came alive,
“Angel Leader, Angel Three. Shield is down to 38%. Turret has been jammed by enemy munitions. I repeat, turret is non-responsive!”

“Angel Three, Angel Leader. Understood your turret is non-responsive. Fall back to the grounds, Angel Four, fill the gap.”

“Angel Leader, Angel Three, falling back.”

“Angel Leader, Angel Four, advancing.”

Cahill watched from his foxhole as one of the Ayers that had been outside backed through the gates and to one side in time to allow a fresh Ayers to advance from deeper within the compound. Their manoeuvres were accompanied by the sound of crunching gravel and the churning of mud as they threw up long strings of grass and dug deep trenches into the formerly lovely lawns of the Embassy gardens. No sooner was the new Ayers at the gate than it began to fire, stoking the flames of death which swept over the traitor formation. Angel Four was focusing purely on the two new guns and anti-personnel and armour-piercing ammunition rained down on the two guns and their crews. They had also drawn the ire of the drones and two of those left fired missiles from compartments hidden deep within their armoured hulls, two each which darted straight for the guns in a screaming war cry for their lost brethren.

“Loyalist forces!” Cahill yelled at them, having no idea whether they had radios or not, “Fall back inside the compound! Fall back inside the compound now!” His voice bellowed loudly over the loudspeaker of a drone to which Cahill was connected. He was not going to try a radio channel regardless of whether or not they had them. Who the hell knew what Pokosian channels had been compromised. Given that it looked like regular troops attacking, he could only assume all of them until someone told him otherwise.

There was a white flash high above his head, followed by a loud noise that he only describe as something akin to pure noise, without definition or meaning, simply existing but so loud that it made the embassy battle sound almost pathetic in comparison. His first assumption was that it had to be a starship crashing into the surface. It was only when he glanced at it that he reconsidered, perhaps it was debris from some battle in space. What the hell else could it be? But the specks weren’t moving quickly enough to be just uncontrolled fragments and chunks of hull. He narrowed his eyes and applied the maximum magnification his helmet visor would allow. Only then and with some fiddling of his night sensors was he able to make them out against the blaze of fires in the city and the dulling of the light. The shapes were unmistakeable, dropships! Setulanite dropships at that. He checked his mid-range communicator but it was still jammed. Close range was working fine as he expected. He had not even bothered with long-range communications, assuming that if medium range was jammed then so would long range but now, perhaps there was a chance of something getting through. Fuck it, it was worth a shot.

“Morris! What’s our status on LRC?” He asked over the short-range communicator.

“Sir!” The female voice replied, “LRC non-responsive.”

“Attempt to transmit this message; require immediate air support, facing large assault by infantry, armour and artillery. Attempting to cover the retreat of local allied forces. Given them our position.”

“Aye Sir!” Even over the short range chatter, he could hear her speaking, her voice as clear and as steady as one could expect when under fire, “Central, this is Apex 2 1 requesting immediate air support at 51.5010° North, 0.1416° West. We are under assault from infantry, armour and artillery, taking heavy fire. Please acknowledge.” She waited an agonising few seconds, “Central, this is Apex 2 1 requesting immediate air support…”

And so she continued, repeating herself over and over again hoping against hope that her communications would break through to someone and it would not be this company and their Royalist allies alone against the feared Guards.

Air over Pokos

The reaction of the Pokosian Combat Air Patrol was such that for a moment Liffey was convinced that his sensors were malfunctioning. There was no retaliatory fire, no attempt to engage any of the incoming fighters in any way. They simply broke and scattered in the face of the oncoming missiles. The jammers went up just before his munitions were due to hit so he had no idea what had happened to his targets. It was infuriating actually and he felt the hunter in him had been cheated. How the hell was he supposed to know if he’d scored a kill or not now? Thoughts of how fun dinner was going to be that night were instantly swept to the side as he heard the stern voice of his squadron leader,
“All craft, gear up. We’re going in.”

Gear up. It was the easiest command in the whole Navy to remember. All he had to do was take his hand off the joystick between his legs and crank up a single dial. Immediately the frame around him began to tremble as the whine of his engines grew steadily into a bellow as engines began to spool up to their maximum output. At this speed, they would be in the combat area in seconds and that was exactly how it turned out. Suddenly over a hundred of the most feared fighter in AXIS space flown by more aces than some entire Air Forces were fortunate to possess were right amongst the Pokosian combat air patrol. It was here that the Pokosian pilots were going to find just what it was that made the XX-40 so revered, respected and terrified across the galaxy.

Almost immediately, Liffey spotted a Pokosian fighter. It was flying slightly away from him, jinking to avoid the missiles which still streaked across the sky in search of targets both real and imaginary.
“Guard on my flank,” he called to his wingman, “I’m going in.”

“Roger that.” Was the ever calm reply. Ella McCarthy had many flaws but for all the loud music, the noisy eating, game playing, she was impeccable in the cockpit. With her acknowledgement, it took Liffey all of a second to put himself directly behind the Pokosian fighter. At such short range, the sensors had no difficulty detecting the aircraft directly in front of him as being real,
“Launching,” He called over the comms, “Fox-Two!”

He felt a slight tremor as the short range air to air missile detached itself and streaked for its target a mere seconds away. He waited to confirm the kill, assured that there was no chance he could miss at such close range and pulled away in a sharp turn that had him groaning in delight. The drag of atmosphere was always so surreal after combat in space. Though space was lit up with sensor ghosts and false images, there was one thing that simply could not be disguised. The Alversians knew exactly where the Pokosian airbases were located, they knew what was deployed there and what their response time was. As the CAP seemed to simply melt away, the command came over the radio.

“Sparrow 1 0, Sparrow 3 1, Sparrow 2, break and commence ground sweeps.”

“Sparrow 1 0, acknowledged.” The voice of the Squadron Leader sounded in his head. Flicking his stick, Liffey brought his craft into loose formation with the 40 other aircraft that had broken off from the main fight and descended on the airfields nearby. It was a pilot’s dream. The airfield was there with row after row of aircraft taking off or ascending into the air, slow and vulnerable. It was like hunting an elephant with a groin strain.

“All craft, engage.” Was the battle cry over the radio.

Engage they did. Time after time they strafed the runway; launching missiles into the rows of aircraft and firing their four powerful cannons into those that were struggling for both speed and altitude while high above them the remaining XX-40s continued to duke it out with the Pokosian fighters already in the air.

Their reinforcements were on the way. Descending down into atmosphere was the second wave; 96 more XX-40s were flying in, armed in the same way as the fighter sweep had been while they shielded and covered the 88 XB-99 bombers and 72 bomb-laden XH-137 Heavy fighters. They were heading straight for the airfields while thirty two of the escort broke off and dove into the combat high above the skies of Cardinair.

APS Infinitas, Pokosian Orbit

Harris watched as the rebel fleet began to get uppity in their attempts to challenge the Alversian and Setulanite forces for control over the swirling blue planet which they held in such contempt. The shots were from extreme range, an eclectic of missiles, nuclear weapons and solid ordinance none of which his corvette and destroyer screen had any issue in repelling. They were harassment and warning shots more than anything he suspected just to let him know that he could not let his guard down. He refrained from firing shots back for much the same reason; at such long distances the Pokosian vessels would have no problem defeating them and it was simply a waste of munitions at this point.

The orbital batteries had the potential to be much more potent to his small force but now that they had understood the danger that the ground weapons posed they were being much more cautious. Each of the Alversian craft had their manoeuvring drives on full power, ready to duck out of the way of a round once its firing was detected and the more vulnerable carriers hid out of range, using the curvature of the planet to their advance and shielded by more than enough corvettes, destroyers and cruisers to make sure no GTO rounds got close to their charges.

Closer to the planet, the Light Cruiser Raheem continued to pound away at the facility, launching shells with the same explosive impact of a large nuclear weapon with pinpoint accuracy onto the facility’s shields. They were guided by some of the most sophisticated sensors in the Alversian arsenal aimed by both manual crew and by the ship’s on board AI who processes trillions of details a second to ensure that there was no margin for error when the rounds were fired. Each volley was separated by only a minute and the railguns worked steadily as they reduced the shield to ash, protected all the while by the Rage, Core and Cast
Last edited by Alversia on Wed Aug 26, 2015 6:14 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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O Boyce
Diplomat
 
Posts: 507
Founded: Apr 22, 2007
Ex-Nation

Postby O Boyce » Fri Oct 16, 2015 12:02 am

Augesh 14 2630 SFY,
Cholt Estate, Pokos
Twenty-five miles from Tranquietel


The white stone and red tiled roof of the Cholt estate glowed in the night as the modern lighting that had been installed when electricity had been invented centuries before. Before that the estate had be lighted by gas lamps and the occasional kerosene, even before that, torches and candles. Regardless of the lighting the estate echoed the ancient centuries that the estate had been occupied. It had begun its life as a well to do farmstead outside the terminus of the mountain capital. Its original inhabitants landed nobility to the crown. Over the centuries it had turned hands a few times, being bought, sold or taken by this member of the nobility or the other. Each owner adding to its already grand complexity of rooms, and halls. Around it stood thousands of acres of prime farmland. On it stood almost three hundred acres of the finest vineyards in the valley, not to matter a scattering of orchards just now starting to bud and their flowering fruits beginning to grow. Soon the fields would be scrambling with the staff collecting the fruits, grains and other foods grown on the grounds to be sold to add to the Cholt family’s always growing bank accounts.

The Cholt family had been given the estate after the rebellion against Artos III by the incumbent High Tar, for service to the Holy one and the High Tar in overthrowing the corrupt monarch. Since then the Cholt family had become one of the richest in the Commonwealth. They had even taken a new family name, after the handgun that the Holy One wielded in the rebellion. They had taken that and begun to build around that, getting into the weapons manufacture industry and becoming the biggest arms sellers in the Commonwealth, holding thousands of grants and sales deals with all branches of the military, pinkerton, and government offices. On top of that, the company and the family also had gotten into larger industries, starship construction, component construction, reactor construction and also held one well over a thousand patents that brought the company and the family trillions of Lochs a year.

That being said, Henshree Cholt could not save himself from panicking when while he was taking his evening meal in his study, looking towards the massive city on the mountain and saw the city erupt in chaos. For some time he stood there in awe as he saw the city’s defenses activate and fill the sky with death. He could see, although not too well the fighting that was breaking out in the streets and for some time he was entranced and confused. He had checked the news reports and all was in chaos. All of his contacts across the Commonwealth could not give him a accurate description of what was going on. What he was able to discern was that the Freedom Party, a growing political party had turned violent and was staging some sort of rebellion and coup’de’tat. What shook him out of his daze was the sounds of shouting on the grounds of the estate, followed by the banging open of his study door.

Two tall Pokosians entered the study, clad in black robes and stern expressions. Their feathers almost as black as the robes they wore and they rushed Cholt, covering the distance from the door of the study to him in a moments time. Before he could react he was thrown into a perch and latched to it with chains that came out of a duffel bag that had been brought in by one of the black robed assailants. While the shorter of the two was securing him to the perch the other one began to ransack the study. Pulling scrolls and books off of the shelfs with disregard to their age and contents, pulling drawers out of the desk and cabinets that had been carved from solid trunks of Mallornis wood. Cholt winced at the loss and damage to all of the priceless possessions that the assailant was rummaging through. The tall one stopped and began to search through the computer pads that contained business deals and personal correspondence, but threw them down as well in frustration. After some time the shorter one stepped away and had a hushed conversation with the other, then they both looked at Cholt.

“Cholt, we have some questions for you, but you need to answer honestly, or I cannot guarantee your survival” The tall one said calmly, almost too calmly.

Cholt was lost in a whirlwind of emotions. He was angry at his apprehension and the violation of himself and his privacy, but he was also scared and worried, not only for his safety, but of his company as well.

“What do you want? How dare you invade my nest like this!” Cholt exclaimed in fake defiance, hoping that his assailants would not be able to read him.

“You have no room to talk traitor” Spat the tall one “You are a traitor and an enemy of the state. You have no rights beyond a puff on a pipe and the firing squad”

“I am no traitor!” Shouted Cholt.

A feathered fist crossed his beak in a flash, blinding Cholt for a moment with pain. Blood trickled out of the corner of his beak and the acidic taste of it was fresh along his tongue.

“Don’t lie. We have proof that you have been helping the Freedom Party” The shorter assailant stated in a matter of fact voice as he looked down at a computer pad that he had pulled from his belt “You have not only voted for Freedom Party proposals but you have been paid by high ranking Freedom Party officials in the sums of twenty thousand Lochs a month for almost a year”

“Me, a Freedom Party stalwart!” Cholt sputtered, “Hardly. I am a businessman. If a proposal was good for business, I voted for it. As for the money, I do business how I please”

Another feathered fist across the face made Cholt firmly aware that he had given the wrong answer. After spitting thick, tacky blood out of his beak before responding again.

“Alright. A while back a few people came by my offices asking if they could consult with me and my company on an idea they had. At the time I didn’t know who they were. In a way I still don’t” Cholt stated as clearly as he could.

Another fist, this one to his keel, only slightly lessened by his robes which radiated along his ribs rocked him and he moaned slightly as he dealt with the pain.

“I swear! I didn’t know them before I met them. They came to me. They wanted to know if it was possible to link a phaser bank to the matter/antimatter reactor of a starship. An idea that I played around with myself but at the time it was just on the drawing board. Too many bugs to work out. Run the risk of blowing a ship apart without buffers and limiters. The two of them, one of them looked to be the bookish type, you know, the other though, he was a big and burly military type” Cholt stammered, hoping that was the information that he had was enough.

“The money?” The shorter one asked.

“They offered more, but it was just a consultation. We talked for a long time about how to implement the process. We even put together a mock up system that we could test, but it never really led to anything. At least on my end. I didn’t feel right taking more money, but it was a good fee for consultation” Cholt continued.

Augesh 14 2630 SFY,
Pokos, Orbit


The battle in orbit had not changed much since the Freedom Party fleet had been pushed back. Their extreme long range fire with their heavy ordinance was only meant as a nuisance. They had been badly beaten back with the arrival of the AXIS fleet. A smattering of nuclear warheads, torpedoes, missiles, long range phaser fire all in an effort to harass the AXIS fleet and preventing them from focusing on the Freedom Party forces on the surface. All manner of small armed craft were dodging and weaving around the wreckage of the orbital fight. Fighters doing their best to imitate the ancient warriors of the past, single combat between their enemies. It was still not enough to stop the stem of the AXIS flow of material and troops to the surface but it was enough to keep them occupied.

Hovering above the northern pole of the planet, hiding in the magnetic interference that messed with even the most sensitive scanning systems, was a fleet of twenty Freedom Party starships sat in wait. They were the brainchild of the militant arm of the Freedom Party and the culmination of several years of planning. It had started with high ranking Freedom Party members that would go from company to company, taking consultations on various industry processes and theoretical construction techniques, all of it discreetly done as to not garner the attention of government watchdogs. After that step had been completed the construction of these starships were done through shell companies and under the guise of other types of construction in backwater colonial worlds and secreted into the Trelani system and eventually in Polar stationary orbit above Pokos. All of them were built along the lines of armored gunboats. The Party did not have the resources nor the manpower to field a massive fleet, let alone fight off a massive fleet as well, but placed well and commanded properly this small flotilla along with any of the captured Commonwealth warships would be able to fight hard enough to win. That was before the AXIS arrived. Now the Freedom Party needed to use its trump card. Each starship was designed around the MPA (Maximized Phaser Array), originally a weapons theory, by channeling the entire power of the matter/antimatter reactor into the array it made the phaser output ten times stronger than any standard Commonwealth phaser array. It took longer to fire, but hit very hard, not to mention the massive amounts of other weapons that had been built into the superstructure of the ships. They were not meant for prolonged fights, but could slug it out with ships well above its class for a time. These twenty ships slowly drifted down orbit while the gunners sighted their weapons before unleashing a hellish barrage on the AXIS fleet, targeting the larger of the AXIS starships and unleashing their horrible weapon on them. Cheaply made but hardy fighters dropped out of their launch bays and began to make attack runs the AXIS fleet as well, adding to the confusion and chaos of the fight above the planet.

The GTO batteries continued to fire, their super heavy rounds slamming into their targets. Down below the shields to the facilities were being likewise hammered, causing all manner of damage to the surrounding area but for the time being they held. That would not last forever, and as that knowledge became noticeable, the GTO batteries started to target the AXIS ships that were dropping ordinance on the surface facilities. The first two rounds coming close to hitting their targets, one dangerously so, followed by salvo after salvo in the space in-between now that they had their two targets straddled.

On the surface near the facilities around the city of Cardinair the battle in the air was reaching a fevered pitch. Now that the AXIS fighter craft were engaged the remaining Freedom Party craft in the air fought back, working in teams of two to take down AXIS craft and going toe to toe with their foes. Dozens of craft had been caught on the ground and were now in flames, but there were still plenty getting up into the air and the many that were already aloft were not backing down. As a flight of AXIS fighters strafed an airfield a pair of J'thel class heavy fighters were now pulling in behind, unleashing a massive barrage of phaser fire, filling the air between the two groups of craft with weapons fire.

Augesh 14 2630 SFY,
City of Tranquietel, Pokos
FTI Offices


It took a strong force of will to not snap at the insubordinate trooper that had spoken out of turn as the grouping of military and political dignitaries stood in the office that had turned into his headquarters. He had no problem with the voicing of opinions, but there was a chain of command to follow for such things. Instead of hauling off on said trooper, he only gave him a steely avian gaze for a moment before he began to respond to the multitude of comments that were going his way. After breaking eye contact with the insubordinate trooper, Stonewall took a deep breath and began to formulate his thoughts.

The city was massive. A culmination of over a two thousand years of continuous occupation. The entire mountain was honeycombed with tunnels, caves, city infastructures, cellars, catacombs, old structures that had been built on top of. None of it had been clearly mapped. Stonewall remembered reading an article once that it was something that was in the works at one of the many universities in the city, but his interest was only a passing one as he had read it in a waiting room of his physician at his last check up. He had found the article fascinating, but only as one who could appreciate the historical basis that it stood on, but other than that it was just a fluff piece. Strategically it was a nightmare. Not to mention that the mess below the city and the winding, over built city could hide all manner of military material. Another difficulty would be that some of the older buildings were made of stone heavily laden with Tranquitelite, a mineral commonly found in the stone of the valley that made it hard to scan through, yet another issue that he had to work through.

“This is my city, my people Mohr! Do not presume to settle your own misgivings and mistrusts on me and mine!” Stonewall stated in a brisk retort “Just like your people were taken unawares so were mine. Let us work together to solve this but we have more than just military matters to take into consideration”

Stonewall paused, putting his frustration aside. He had a feeling he knew what Mohr was thinking, he would of thought of things the same way. There was too much to do and not enough time to do it.

“As the Ambassadress has stated. There is a civilian matter to attend to. Everywhere that Royalist forces stand I have had troops help evacuate to safer locations in the city. I wish I could do more but this is a city of twenty million. The largest and oldest in the Commonwealth. Evacuating the entire city is impossible unless we declare this city a free city, and withdraw. That will not work either. The enemy is dead set on taking this city or subduing it and we cannot get out without going through them” Stonewall added.

“Militarily, we have a retreating enemy, yes. But as he retreats he will undoubtedly using all manner of escape route to get to the rest of their forces near the base of the city, cellars, utility tunnels, catacombs, this entire city is a morass of underground pathways that could lead everywhere and anywhere. This city has been continuously occupied for over two thousand years and has an underground that is so unfathomably complex they could hide an entire army, plus with the rock used in many of our older structures has minerals that tend to scramble all but the most sensitive scanners. Secondly, as the enemy retreats through the city that they have mostly held for most of the night has the advantage of setting ambushes, traps, laying mines. Any sort of rapid advance out of the areas held by our forces will be met with all manner of hurts. We have dealt them a blow they will not forget, but caution will win out in the end unless we all want to bury our dead in mass graves instead of honorable ceremony. ” Stonewall completed his thoughts.

He hoped he got his point across. He didn’t want discord, he wanted to save his home. He also wanted to do it with expediency, but he also had to think about the civilian population. He had a reputation throughout the AXIS as one of the most ruthless commanders that fought in the Dan war. That ruthlessness had already reared its head when he had enacted the Black Guard initiative. He made a silent prayer that none of the people in this room ever found out about that. At least not yet, before the initiative had borne any fruit.

Augesh 14 2630 SFY,
City of Tranquietel, Pokos
Alversian Embassy


Embassy row was in tatters. The once beautiful cobbled streets were now rent asunder, pockmarked to a fare-the-well by the fighting that had raged on this particular street in the Embassy District. Buildings on the far side of the street that were not already falling down from the damage received through the fighting were starting to catch on fire, one of which was already a roaring inferno as the destroyed hulk of a hover tank stuck out of a once well bricked wall. The ordinance inside of it had already gone off, the twisted wreckage almost glowing from the heat. The dead were everywhere. Anything from full bodies staring lifelessly out into the abyss while others in death holding onto the wounds that had ended them, parts of bodies, feathers, and smears of blood, littered the cratered landscape. The wounded wailed for aid in competition over the din of combat.

The remains of the Royalists that had been marching uphill were all scrambling over what remained of the embassy walls and through holes made by the Freedom Party attackers. They took positions wherever the Alversain defenders suggested, while many others tended to the wounded that they had brought with them. A team of gunners began to assemble the PPC on the wall of the embassy from the packs they wore on their back and began to use the heavy phaser cannon to spray the attackers. One flight of Royalist troopers had found a relatively less mangled piece of ground inside the embassy and began to form into a battle line much like the one that they had formed in the road against the Foot Guards. An NCO was barking at them, with his sword over his shoulder while he walked back in forth in front of them.

“YOU ARE ALL DISGRACES! DO YOU EXPECT TO FIGHT AN ENEMY WHEN YOU ARE ALL YELLOW FEATHERED COWARDS!” Shouted the NCO harshly which caused the raising of a few groans and angry chirps.

“WE WILL STAND HERE AND GO THROUGH THE MANUAL OF ARMS. MAYBE DOING SOMETHING FAMILIAR WILL STEADY YOUR NERVES!” The NCO continued “Shhhhhhoouuulllder Harms!”

The flight of twenty troopers came to stiff attention and brought their staff phasers to shoulder arms in a smooth motion. Even as ragged as they looked this had been drilled into them since they joined the military and anyone that had served never forgot.
“Rhhhhiiggghhht shhhoulder shift….Harms!” Shouted the NCO again.

The troopers swapped shoulders with their weapons, held in the crook of their wings and the butts near their cheeks. A shell landed nearby and exploded with a harsh THUMP, wounding one of the troopers and he went down screaming in agony. A Pokosian medic rushed over to help. Some of the troopers in the fight looked over but were interrupted by another command. They did this for a few moments, going through the manual of arms in smooth precision and professionalism. Satisfied the NCO stopped and looked at the flight with grim satisfaction. The NCO looked over to the wall and picked a good spot to put his men to the wall and began to bark more orders.

“To the walls troopers! Left of the gate!” The NCO shouted.

“ARMERELOS! ARMERELOS! ARMERELOS!” The troopers shouted as they rushed to the walls and began to add their fire to the battle, their nerves now steadied.

Outside of the walls, the Foot Guards were fighting as hard as they could to crack the nut that was the Alversain Embassy. The guns that had been brought forward banged away at the multitude of targets that they had. The Alversian Ayers were taking the majority of the fire, round after round going downrange and slamming into their targets. The Foot Guards were adding their fire to the havoc, using their personal shields to cover themselves as they advanced in rushes of two and three, using the tactics that they used in the Dan war when they had learned that the standard Pokosian infantry doctrine would not do here against the Alveresians. Forward they came, taking casualties as they did so but not stopping until they were close enough to the walls to toss grenades forward only in the areas that the Ayers were not shooting. The mortar shells that rained down cut swaths of attackers down but they still kept moving forward.

Through the din of the fighting the tinny sound of a bugle note echoed through the battered streets. There was suddenly a slackening of fire coming from the Freedom Party attackers. The two guns doubled their fire as the Foot Guards started to pull out. Giving up all of the ground that they had taken in the fight and began to disappear into the surrounding neighborhood, taking with them only the walking wounded. One of the guns went silent and was pulled out quickly but as the last gun was being prepared to be pulled out as well a well-placed shot form the Ayers hit the limber and the whole gun and limber went up in a blossom of flame and smoke.

Then there was silence, the only sounds being the moans of the wounded, the crackling of fire, and the distant sound of battle miles away. This portion of the battle could well be over and as the smoke lifted from the road the horror of it all could be seen. A fair hundred or so dead and wounded littered the road, ruined military equipment, and it ran in blood. Feathers everywhere sticking to tacky blood as it flowed downhill along the cobbles of the street and pooling where a crater pocked its surface.

“My gods, its like a poultry slaughterhouse out there” the same NCO that had drilled his troops mid battle said barely audible and in disbelief. Running his feathered hand through the longer feathers on his head, smearing blood through it.

“My gods” The NCO repeated and sank to his haunches nearby Cahill and began to openly sob.

Augesh 14 2630 SFY,
City of Tranquietel, Pokos
Two miles downhill of Summit


The buildings around Johm and the flight that he was moving forward with loomed over them. The battle at the summit had ended rather abruptly with the routing the Foot Guards by the combined efforts of the Setulan reinforcements and the Sword of the Tar troops that were on hand to fight. Johm kept thinking back to that moment when the Setulan officer pushed him around and could feel his feathers starting to puff out in anger. Every shove that the Setulan gave him had pushed Johm closer and closer over the edge of his self-control. He was already having trouble keeping things together in his own head but he used the duties that were set ahead of him to keep himself focused.

The Setulans wasted no time to continue the assault on the Freedom Party forces, striking down from the summit while Johm was left organizing his own forces to follow up. It was a task well worth the effort but extremely difficult. As soon as the Freedom Party troops pulled away from their attack they melted into the city like water down a slope, dipping into every nook and crannie of the city and taking whatever route that they could to get to the edge of the city. It was something that Johm was acutely concerned with. He knew the city was a mass of tunnels and catacombs and the like that would make chasing an enemy that knew where to hid and how to move unseen. That was not to say that all of the enemy had run. Johm and his flight that was working its way downslope had already fought its way through three ambushes and had lost the following MKI hovertank to an anti-tank mine that had been hidden under a dead body. Even the night vision helmets of the Sword’s troopers had trouble picking up movement in the lightening dark due to the materials in the rock and stone that made up the buildings in this part of the city. Even when something had been picked up there had been a couple of moments when he had almost ordered his flight to open fire on a group of cowering civilians. Off in the distance there was a massive explosion that shook the earth and the eruption of weapons fire that indicated that another ambush had been sprung and Johm could only guess that a mine or two had also gone off under the boots of the advancing Setulans that were moving downhill as well. He hoped that the Setulans had not lost anything important but that was the sixth of such exchanges that he had heard since his troops had moved down slope.

He had broken the battalions of the Sword that could move forward into flights and gave them all objectives to reach. All of them were advancing along a wide fan that were only a few streets apart from each other, far enough to make good ground and not get bunched up but close enough to be able support one another should the enemy make a stand or spring an attack. It had worked well so far. The enemy had not made any concentrated stand for some time now and since the last ambush it had been rather quiet. As Johm thought that the silence was broken with another massive blast in the distance and the sound of weapons fire again. This was going to be dirty work.

Johm’s flight was to reach the embassy district and secure it. There had been some very strong fighting there and it was still raging from what he could tell as his flight got closer, the sound of field guns barking repeatedly. After checking the map on his data pad he carefully chose a route to the Embassy district where the fighting had been heavy. He had to reroute three times already due to rubble blocking the road so Johm hoped this new route would be what he needed.

“About two hundred yards down this street, through that office building on the left and that should put us about fifty from the fighting I think” Johm stated.

His flight moved forward carefully, scanning their surroundings for assaliants. To his surprise they were able to make it to the office building unmolested, but there had been a mine that was found and bypassed before they had gotten there. Once at the building they worked their way inside, careful to move as slowly as possible as to not attract the attention of an unknown defender. Down one ransacked hallway after another, passing the occasional dead body as they moved. There had been fighting here, but it looked as though this was more of the work of looters and not military action. Finally after what had seemed like forever Johm and his flight had made it to the far side of the building. The raging battle that he had heard before he had entered the offices was now gone, replaced with the distant sounds of battle. He paused his unit and waited. Johm thought himself. Could it be a trick, another trap?

Johm’s mind started to race as he was attempting to figure out what to do. His mind was swimming in possibilities when he heard the sounds of voices and the movement of taloned feet moving quickly over the cobblestones of the street.

“Get in position and hold your fire” Johm ordered, diving behind the sill of the window and taking cover.

The flight of Pokosian troopers all took cover in a rush of movement. One of them setting up a PPC in the windowsill and aimed it down the street, ready to spray it with death. Moments stretched into what felt like hours as they waited. The sounds started to get louder and louder. The voices sounded panicked but Johm could not tell if they were Freedom Party soldiers or if they were civilians attempting to get away from the fighting. He started to get nervous as the voices got louder and louder. He had to get the first shot if it was the enemy but if he did and they were civilians. Contradicting thoughts raced through his mind, making him seem outwardly jittery as he did so. His feathers stood up in anticipation, which was growing every second. Johm could see shadows at the end of the street as figures began to dart around the corner. He still couldn’t tell. He needed to act. His own night vision could not pick out the detail of the figures in the distance that were now moving in a clump his way.

“FIRE!” He shouted.

His flight opened fire in a massive burst of energy. Wave after wave of phaser fire washed down the street. The figures screamed in surprise and tried to take cover but others in the groups stood there stupefied as if they did not expect to be fired upon. It had been over in seconds. The group that had been rushed down the street had been gunned down in mere moments. Johm didn’t give it second thought at that point. The deed had been done and in his mind he was positive that they figures had been the enemy.

“Move out” Johm ordered.

The flight moved forward down the street. Taking long strides and covering the distance quickly. Many of the troopers started to stop when they reached where the figures had been. One of them pulled off his helmet and started to retch off to the side of the road, while others began to swear in disbelief.

“My gods, they were just civvies” One trooper exclaimed.

“Cap, they were civilians, why did you have us fire!” Another shouted, getting visibly angry and another trooper started to hold him back before Johm could respond.

Johm looked down at his feet where a small body lay broken and smouldering. The small form was the charred remains of the youngling, still clutching a small toy that it had deemed a possession that it could not live without along with it as the youngling and the group had ran from wherever they had been hiding.

“I….I….Couldn’t tell. I couldn’t take the risk” Johm stammered, trying hard to regain control of his faculties.

“You son of a bitch you will pay for this so help me gods!” Shouted the angry trooper, Johm snapped.

“Shut it trooper. Don’t play high and mighty with me. You are just as guilty as I” Johm snarled “You all are! The gods be my witness we all are. This stays between us! Anyone say anything and I will personally give you a one way ticket to the underworld!”

The rest of the flight looked dumbfounded. They had never been spoken to like that. They were the elite. They were some of the best fighters in the Commonwealth military. To see an officer this unhinged took them by surprise and they did not know what to do. They had their military discipline and loyalty to him and the unit.

“Now move, we have to reach our objective” Johm barked again, giving every trooper a deadly glare.

There was some hesitation but the unit began to move out, but slowly. Gloom hung over all of them and Johm couldn’t help but looking over his shoulder at some of the troopers that brought up the rear. He consciously put his sidearm in his hand at the ready and as they turned the corner and passed a destroyed artillery piece the flight walked slowly towards the Alversian Embassy and the carnage that it held around it. The carnage not even phasing the shaken troopers that in their minds had seen much, much worse than the blood soaked road ahead of them.
Far off another explosion thudded, followed by the massive sound of an entire building coming down across the road that the Setulans had chosen to make their main thrust. Johm silently let go of all of his comraderie for the AXIS troops that had landed on his planet, especially the Setulan officer that had injured his pride and honor and he hoped that building came down right on top of the said officer. For a flicker of a moment, Johm understood and agreed with the Freedom Party and its ideals.

Augesh 14 2630 SFY,
City of Tranquietel, Pokos
Terminus Park


All hell had broken loose in and around the center of the Freedom Party line that had begun to form. Due to the quick thinking of unit commanders and the experience that many had gained during the Dan war and other conflicts the Freedom Party troops had dug in record time. Not the complex trenches and defenses preferred by many military commanders but enough to blunt the edge of the attacking Setulan forces. All manner of artillery had been sited and were lobbing shells at first, in the direction of the spaceport where the Setulan forces had landed, but were now landing their shells among the advancing Setulan. The smaller shells were making small gouts of dirt and stone, sending shrapnel everywhere while some shells burst midair and showered everything below with sharp debris. The larger shells were cutting huge holes in the ground in huge bursts of flame and dirt, harassing the Setulan advance with heavier and heavier fire the closer they got. Emplaced hovertanks lanced their phaser fire as well, filling the air with hot energy and landing their carefully aimed shots among the oncoming armor.

Madison looked on in horror as the Setulan rounds began to land along the line. Gouts of flame flowed along the ground as the napalm rounds landed hard amongst the Freedom Party lines. One of which hit a ammunition dump and set it up in a massive thump that sent a shockwave through the air. The chemical rounds also wreaked their havoc, killing dozens and wounding even more. She fumed at herself for not being more prepared for the oncoming assault but many of the regulars that had joined the cause had the proper equipment to weather the chemical storm. Those that were quick enough to react. Not all were that quick, and burned and withered under the reaction of the chemical agents. The Setulan fire must have made an impact on the gunners of some of the artillery batteries and they too began to play dirty, lobbing gas shells that gurgled as they flew over the heads of the troops in the trenches, shells with Defeathering agent which burned feathers off with horrible pain and burned the skin, and MX1 shells with a gas that ignited when it made contact with air filling the air with superheated fire. That made Madison feel better but she didn’t like the fact that her people had to resort to that. The one thing she did feel better about was the anti-air batteries that had come with the Cardinarian Corps that had held their fire until the Setulan aircraft were overhead.

The worst thing for an enemy to do was to attack a people that by their own nature had fought in the air for centuries. An avian race understood all too well that the air was a place that attack could come, and as such a Pokosian army ever since bows and arrows had been in use had guarded the sky. Now, the dozens of anti-air guns opened up, filling the sky with death. Each gun following a target through the sky and thousands of rounds of ammunition went up. The fight had just seen the opening moves and now all she had to do was wait. More and more of the Guard Corps were streaming out of tunnels, down streets, and pouring out of vehicles that had transported them in a hurry to get to the position. Madison had a good feeling that she would be able to hold at least for a little while. This was only a stalling action anyway. She had plans to link up with other Freedom Party forces after she had stalled long enough. That is where the majority of her focus was at the moment. She was preparing her army’s escape.
Last edited by O Boyce on Mon Oct 19, 2015 1:03 am, edited 5 times in total.
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Xiscapia
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Founded: Mar 13, 2007
Democratic Socialists

Postby Xiscapia » Wed Oct 28, 2015 1:12 pm

Augesh 13 2630 SFY,
City of Tranquietel, Pokos
Flock of Temporal Investigations Office


Bolton kept her eyes locked with Stonewall's for as long as he looked back at her. The woman's expression might have been superficially impassive, but the hard press of her lips and the narrowing of her eyes told a different story. Still, she said nothing else as Mohr's disembodied head appeared on a nearby holo-plate to rail at the Pokosian, followed by Toal's words. Throughout it all Enomoto stood silently, only his hand moving as it steadily scratched behind Sif's ears and his eyes moved from one speaker to the next. Stonewall gave his speech, and in the aftermath Bolton was right back into it.

"None of that changes anything," she retorted to Stonewall. "They're retreating into the mountain? So fucking what? If we wait that just gives them time to get more of their troops and equipment down there and make it even harder to clean them out later. You're worried about casualties now, but if our scanners won't even work down there in those tight spaces then this is nothing compared to what we'd suffer down there. And you want us to wait and give these scuts the chance to fight there on their own terms?" she shook her head. "No way, General. You have to see that doesn't make any sense."

For a long moment she stared at him, waiting for an agreement, but there was nothing. After a moment the Imperial Marine turned her head to Enomoto. He was acutely aware that all eyes seemed to be on him, both the only one who hadn't spoken yet and the most powerful in the room. Again his eyes made the circuit, from Mohr's head in front of him to Stonewall nearby, then over to Toal, Lorde and Bolton, and finally back to Stonewall again. Fixing his auric vulpine eyes on the Pokosian, he took a breath.

"The civilians should be a consideration," he said at last. "If we can get them to safer areas or otherwise evacuate them then we should. They are always the hardest hit by war, especially civil ones. I don't have to tell anyone here that. But we won't do them or AXIS troops any good by holding back now. None of them, and no one standing in this room, will truly be safe until every Freedom Party member, traitor Guard and all the other rebels are dead. The longer that takes to happen, the more danger that all the people on this planet and all the people in the Commonwealth are in. If this is allowed to go on it will tear this society that has stood for over two thousand years apart."

He fixed his gaze on Stonewall. "So, General, you will assist General Mohr in whatever way he requires. Your forces will support his advance, all the way to the deepest, darkest crags of this mountain if that's what it takes. And you will do your utmost to capture or kill every last rebel in this city. I don't care how well fortified they are or how many traps they've laid. We need them gone, not later, not soon, now. That is my order to you, as High Tar. And if you won't carry it out then I will find someone who will."

Enomoto's arms were folded, and even Sif was staring at Stonewall, but that was when he allowed himself to look around the room again. "When I was holding Armerelos up on that dais today he said something to me. He was hurt, in far more pain than he ever should have been, because he used his body as a shield to save me. By the way he stared up I knew that he had been blinded, and was probably deafened as well. He was bleeding from his mouth and his nose, but he didn't cry or scream or beg. He just said five words. 'Kill the bastards, no quarter.' And that is what I intend to do. Kill the bastards."

He looked to Mohr. "General Mohr. Continue your assault. General Stonewall, assist him. I expect periodic reports, and progress."

Augesh 13 2630 SFY,
City of Tranquietel, Pokos
Humbistean District


Even after he asked his question Yemon didn't need Wilder's expression or even her reply to know the answer. Already he could hear the shouts and gunfire of battle receding, growing more and more distant as the rebels retreated down the street that they had left carpeted with their own dead. There were still the nearby burps of mortars firing coupled with distant booms of artillery and ground-to-orbit batteries and the occasional screech of an aircraft like an oversized hawk or the howl of a bomb, but he had a feeling that he wouldn't be hearing an end to those anytime soon. Even so, his eyes fell onto the tactical map to watch the Maxellian vehicles surging up to trap the Foot Guards in the road. The woman explained it, and as if by her words alone the enemy troops were mercilessly cut apart. The map panned and he examined the awesome sight of the Alversian cruiser Raheem pouring fire down onto the GTO emplacements like the wrath of the gods themselves. He wasn't treated to the sight of any late Xiscapian fleet, but he didn't doubt that it was on its way, particularly if the Colonel said so.

"And the ambassadors?" he asked, having nodded his way through her outline. "Has there been any news about them?"
Xis quote of the week: Altaria Almighty: how are you not just a race of sexual predators? Like who needs power armour and gauss rifles when you have leather and whips. –Karaig
The Kitsune Empire of Xiscapia's FT Factbook (V2.5)
R.I.P. Shal - 1/17/10

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