Field Marshal Ascrith wrote:
((I'm sorry, but what the hell happened to our fight? I'm engaged with three ships right now, and I have two High Explosive Anti Armor 700 foot shells, ten 60 foot shells, and twenty squads of fighters heading your way. I'm sorry, but did we sort of... Stop?
Oh, hey Terel? Add another digit to all of your measurements, and you have the PERFECT ship for your mission. Right now, its really small and can't hold that much inside of it. I'm guessing its around the size of... God... The USS Enterprise from WW2... With the same ship and crew count, but the weaponry of the Yamamoto or Bismarck... My suggestion, though.
I'm going to reply after Nokai fixes his latest post. Sorry. After he does that, I'll edit mine to get things going.)
Oh, hey Terel? Add another digit to all of your measurements, and you have the PERFECT ship for your mission. Right now, its really small and can't hold that much inside of it. I'm guessing its around the size of... God... The USS Enterprise from WW2... With the same ship and crew count, but the weaponry of the Yamamoto or Bismarck... My suggestion, though.
I'm going to reply after Nokai fixes his latest post. Sorry. After he does that, I'll edit mine to get things going.
)((Awww what the hell? I'm replying anyway.))
The Bismarck picked her up as the other ship began trying to move towards them. That was good. Less defenses on the move. Also, they weren't focused on them that much anymore. Another plus. The shells finally hit them, and they watched the space. It was a massive series of explosions. The Nova Cannons hit, and detonated, creating a bright light, like a nuclear bomb. The men on board the Bismarck shielded their eyes.
The Hellraiser cannons also hit the enemy, though they knew not if any of the shells did damage. But that wasn't what they were concerned about right now. They had another ship that came in, a small ship, twice the size of the Nova Cannon's shell, but a very damned good looking ship.
"Colonel! Incoming ship! They've just exited FTL and now they're coming up on her right!" The radar operator shouted, looking worried. No one knew if they were here to kill, or to help. Or just a bystander. But the way this was going, it might as well be the enemy's reinforcements. Of course, if it was, good luck.
"Goddamnit! We already have our hands full! What's the class?" Colonel Braesk asked, looking up from the map of the space they were fighting in. They had found one other planet close by, a planet of the Alliance. It had a good port that they had used once before, but it could be a launching station for enemy ships.
"It's a small diplomatic ship! She's about the size HRAS Pink Floyd back home, sir!"
"Send out a message. Tell them this:"
A private encrypted message was sent to the new ship instantly. Braesk knew that even though it was a cry of help, they had to say it. The Bismarck's shields had been depleted in the attack, and even though the ship was regenerating the shields, something that big would take time. Now it was vulnerable to an attack.
Braesk ordered the boarding torpedoes to be fired at the Time Dancer, and as he requested, a Hellraiser cannon fired a shell, two Anti Armor Valkaries, and ten 10 man boarding torpedoes.
We don't know who you are, we don't care where you came from. We don't know if you're against us, for us, an old ally that we forgot, or a weakened foe. At this point, it doesn't matter. This is the commanding officer Colonel Braesk of the battle barge Bismarck. We have lost all communication with the HRA military convoy 1 light year from here. Please help.
(I've added a 1 in front of all the ship's measurements, so it's 1785 m long, 190 m high and 1430 m wide)
"Sir, one of the ships is breaking off and approaching, they've sent a messa- Ancestors! The larger vessel just opened fire on it... some of those shells are almost half the size of this ship!" His comms officer said, staring at the holographic display in front of her, "We're getting a message from the agressor, looks like a Titan-class vessel. Patching it through."
We don't know who you are, we don't care where you came from. We don't know if you're against us, for us, an old ally that we forgot, or a weakened foe. At this point, it doesn't matter. This is the commanding officer Colonel Braesk of the battle barge Bismarck. We have lost all communication with the HRA military convoy 1 light year from here. Please help.
Captain Tolarim frowned, "Bring up a sensor display of the local volume, what the hell is going on here?"
"This is what our sensors show, sir." His sensor officer said, tapping a holographic symbol on his display. A large hologram of the immediate area around the ship appeared in front of the captain's chair, blinking lights showed the relative positions of the various ships and small symbols annotated likely conditions and weaponsfire.
The doors of the bridge opened allowing two more felines to enter, a male and a female, these two were wearing simple back and silver clothing, though they had a lot of jewellry; bracelets, ankelets, torcs and armlet, made of gold and silver, "Captain report." The female, her eyes bright green and her fur a pale cream and white, said.
"We've been knocked off-course into an unknown region of space, there appears to be a battle ongoing in this volume; three smaller vessels are attacking a large Titan-equivalent vessel, identfying itself as a 'Battle Barge' under the command of Colonel Braesk. They are requesting assistance. What is it you wish us to do, Elder Amaar?" Tolarim replied.
"It is not our place to intervene in a local dispute, and in any event this is a diplomatic ship... we are not equipped for any kind of heavy fighting. Nevertheless this battle may pose a threat to this ship and her crew, broadcast a message to the combats, ask them to cease hostilities and send representatives to the Hand. Perhaps a neautral third party can mediate this dispute without any more bloodshed." She said.
"With all due respect, Revered Elder, I do not think they will listen. We hardly have the weaponry to enforce a ceasefire.We aren't even certain where we are right now, and I don't want to make another FTL jump until we can be certain of our position."
"Just put me on, Tolarm. We can't fight, so we may as ell try diplomacy first. This is my area of expertise after all." She said.
Tolarim sighed, "Very well, Elder. Comms, broadcast on all frequencies, let's make sure they all hear this."
"Aye sir, channel open." His communications officer said.
The Elder stepped forward in front of the captain's chair and began speaking, "I am Nariel Amaar, Elder of the Aunidiel Lineage and Living Ancestor of the Houses Amaar and Tynian, co-founder of the Third Kingdom of Terelian. I do not know why you are fighting, nor do I particularly care. As a neutral third party I offer my services in mediating this dispute. Our sensors show that all of your ships have sustained damage, some quite extensively. Dispatch representives to this vessel and you have my word of honour that they shall be unharmed... attacks upon this vessel or any representatives sent here will be considered an act of war. This vessel may not be a warship, but my people are well-versed in the arts of war. In all the sixteen thousand years we have sailed the stars never once have we been defeated in war. This is the only warning you will recieve."
She turned to the captain, "Hold position here, if they do not send represntatives to us, we will assume that they want to fight it out... unfotunate, but none of our concern. We will have fulfilled our duties in offering our assistance, and we will have no further part in this conflict... assuming they do not attack us."
"And if they do? What then?" Tolarim asked.
"Then we run." she said with a shrug, "We can come back later in a warship and kill them all then. It's been quite a while since we've had to unleash the Grand Fleet on someone. A nice little war out here might cheer the Moralinri up a bit, you know how grumpy they get over a couple of centuries of peace and quiet."
((Not a very exciting post, I know... but the first thing a diplomatic ship would try would be diplomacy))
"Sir, one of the ships is breaking off and approaching, they've sent a messa- Ancestors! The larger vessel just opened fire on it... some of those shells are almost half the size of this ship!" His comms officer said, staring at the holographic display in front of her, "We're getting a message from the agressor, looks like a Titan-class vessel. Patching it through."
We don't know who you are, we don't care where you came from. We don't know if you're against us, for us, an old ally that we forgot, or a weakened foe. At this point, it doesn't matter. This is the commanding officer Colonel Braesk of the battle barge Bismarck. We have lost all communication with the HRA military convoy 1 light year from here. Please help.
Captain Tolarim frowned, "Bring up a sensor display of the local volume, what the hell is going on here?"
"This is what our sensors show, sir." His sensor officer said, tapping a holographic symbol on his display. A large hologram of the immediate area around the ship appeared in front of the captain's chair, blinking lights showed the relative positions of the various ships and small symbols annotated likely conditions and weaponsfire.
The doors of the bridge opened allowing two more felines to enter, a male and a female, these two were wearing simple back and silver clothing, though they had a lot of jewellry; bracelets, ankelets, torcs and armlet, made of gold and silver, "Captain report." The female, her eyes bright green and her fur a pale cream and white, said.
"We've been knocked off-course into an unknown region of space, there appears to be a battle ongoing in this volume; three smaller vessels are attacking a large Titan-equivalent vessel, identfying itself as a 'Battle Barge' under the command of Colonel Braesk. They are requesting assistance. What is it you wish us to do, Elder Amaar?" Tolarim replied.
"It is not our place to intervene in a local dispute, and in any event this is a diplomatic ship... we are not equipped for any kind of heavy fighting. Nevertheless this battle may pose a threat to this ship and her crew, broadcast a message to the combats, ask them to cease hostilities and send representatives to the Hand. Perhaps a neautral third party can mediate this dispute without any more bloodshed." She said.
"With all due respect, Revered Elder, I do not think they will listen. We hardly have the weaponry to enforce a ceasefire.We aren't even certain where we are right now, and I don't want to make another FTL jump until we can be certain of our position."
"Just put me on, Tolarm. We can't fight, so we may as ell try diplomacy first. This is my area of expertise after all." She said.
Tolarim sighed, "Very well, Elder. Comms, broadcast on all frequencies, let's make sure they all hear this."
"Aye sir, channel open." His communications officer said.
The Elder stepped forward in front of the captain's chair and began speaking, "I am Nariel Amaar, Elder of the Aunidiel Lineage and Living Ancestor of the Houses Amaar and Tynian, co-founder of the Third Kingdom of Terelian. I do not know why you are fighting, nor do I particularly care. As a neutral third party I offer my services in mediating this dispute. Our sensors show that all of your ships have sustained damage, some quite extensively. Dispatch representives to this vessel and you have my word of honour that they shall be unharmed... attacks upon this vessel or any representatives sent here will be considered an act of war. This vessel may not be a warship, but my people are well-versed in the arts of war. In all the sixteen thousand years we have sailed the stars never once have we been defeated in war. This is the only warning you will recieve."
She turned to the captain, "Hold position here, if they do not send represntatives to us, we will assume that they want to fight it out... unfotunate, but none of our concern. We will have fulfilled our duties in offering our assistance, and we will have no further part in this conflict... assuming they do not attack us."
"And if they do? What then?" Tolarim asked.
"Then we run." she said with a shrug, "We can come back later in a warship and kill them all then. It's been quite a while since we've had to unleash the Grand Fleet on someone. A nice little war out here might cheer the Moralinri up a bit, you know how grumpy they get over a couple of centuries of peace and quiet."
((Not a very exciting post, I know... but the first thing a diplomatic ship would try would be diplomacy))
((Team up with me? You may find me a valuable ally. If not, then a fearsome opponent. 
))
"Diplomatic Vessel, this is the Warship Bismarck. What you are requesting is, as of this time, impossible. All communications with the other ships have been severed. Our leaders are currently engaged in battle on board one ship, the Time Dancer, which has no communication abilities at all as of now. All I know, is that there's something bloody going on there, and I can tell by the fighters stationed outside the bay, where my leader landed.
As of now, we are engaged in a full on battle. I cannot assure peace, as they have denied us an old artifact of our ancestors, which is not taken very kindly. We have wounded. May we send over our wounded, as our medical bay has been damaged badly?"
Colonel Braesk tried so desperately to get help for his wounded. He knew that a war was going to happen, and frankly, he didn't care at all. He almost wanted one. But war was a bloody thing. They already decimated a planet, completely. And now, they had this new ship that if wasn't categorized as friend or foe, could pose a bad threat.
To show what Braesk's intentions were, he moved his ship in between the battle and the diplomatic vessel, and sent out fighters to guard the ship. They would get there soon, and they were the White Flag fighters, showing peaceful intentions. Also within them, was a massive carrier, containing Captain Robbins, a good captain and highly regarded officer among the SS.
))"Diplomatic Vessel, this is the Warship Bismarck. What you are requesting is, as of this time, impossible. All communications with the other ships have been severed. Our leaders are currently engaged in battle on board one ship, the Time Dancer, which has no communication abilities at all as of now. All I know, is that there's something bloody going on there, and I can tell by the fighters stationed outside the bay, where my leader landed.
As of now, we are engaged in a full on battle. I cannot assure peace, as they have denied us an old artifact of our ancestors, which is not taken very kindly. We have wounded. May we send over our wounded, as our medical bay has been damaged badly?"
Colonel Braesk tried so desperately to get help for his wounded. He knew that a war was going to happen, and frankly, he didn't care at all. He almost wanted one. But war was a bloody thing. They already decimated a planet, completely. And now, they had this new ship that if wasn't categorized as friend or foe, could pose a bad threat.
To show what Braesk's intentions were, he moved his ship in between the battle and the diplomatic vessel, and sent out fighters to guard the ship. They would get there soon, and they were the White Flag fighters, showing peaceful intentions. Also within them, was a massive carrier, containing Captain Robbins, a good captain and highly regarded officer among the SS.
((Now its time for the "big man" to step in))
Lt. Colonel Follox, swooped and ducked and dodged and zigzagged with the grace of a ballerina, the tenacity of a parkour performer, and the raw power of an Olympian. He knew most of his team was down, but that that didn't matter.
From what he cared to hear, he knew that the Captain of the Dancer, had ordered his own men to fire upon the Field Marshall and was it about damn time.
"All able units fall back to the shuttle, and Major get the Captain the hell out of here!" he roared, as another large inch caliber came swooping, his augmented reflexes, sending him into a odd twist of a side way roll, that only those following the Karma Sutra could achieve for sure. He didn't stop, as he changed targets repeatedly between the hulking menaces, making sure to stay the distance, after he saw what they could do. Especially with their obvious psychokinetic abilities.
Damn it would be good to have that god hybrid with his, he quipped mentally, as he was roared along the force of another concussion blast.
Acknowledgments came back over the radio from his team, before CAG, Major Wills responded.
"Uh, Follox, what about your teams and yourself? I cant fit everyone in here and we still have people aboard that can't be transported in this tight firezone," the CAG pointed out.
"Exactly Kareem," the Lt. Colonel said as he was scrapped by another bullet. "You get the Captain and the Doctors out fast, back with the squad and haul ass as fast as possible toward the rendezvous point with the Valhalla. We'll try to hold off these bastards as long as we can, till our people are off the ship."
"Alright, bet," the Major acknowledged. "I'll be back for your bootlicking ass. You better save some fighting action for me."
"Pfft, your ass couldn't handle a job that's fit for a marine flyboy," Follox bellowed with an unexpected laugh. "You just better hope you get the Captain back safe, or else your ass will be licking my boots!"
"And you better get our people out and stay alive. Cause I sure as hell ain't becoming a marine in your honor," the Major replied before signing off.
The Lt. Colonel made a mad dash for the shuttle, and saw the two fighters that were laying down covering fire before take up position next to the shuttle. A stray shot, hit one of the fighters, sending it careening off to the side, toward a bunch of parked craft nearby. There was no way the pilot could safely eject, so he tried his best to maximize damage to the enemy as possible. The deck rocked violently, and the shockwave of heat and force smacked hard against Follox. He saw chain reaction explosions happening and motioned for his people to get out the way.
"Move! Move! Move!"
The shuttle and remaining fighter lifted off, surging out into the open expanse of space. Or rather out of the pan, into a whole other fire.
* * *
The Valhalla spat out into normal space, and the alarms and alerts went berserk.
"Detected weapons fire in the area!"
"The Time Dancer is moderately damaged!"
"Warning collision alert!"
"The Bismarck is attacking the Time Dancer and another unknown vessel!"
"Another vessel has been detected on scanners! Reading four contacts!"
"Status of our forces unknown. Attempting contact."
The flood of data coming in was tremendous.
"Commander, it seems things have...escalated, since our departure," Liala, stated obviously.
"It seems so," Commander Cigol agreed. "Full combat mode. Liala, get us between the Bismarck and Time Dancer. Coordinate with Chief Tact Nai'ti to maximize our firepower capabilities. Extreme force is authorized. I believe Evasive Pattern Tumble Barrel will be prudent."
Liala's digital avatar seemed to snicker before saluting, "Aye aye sir. I have also taken to responsibility of increasing our ECM/ECCM abilities, and started playing cyberwarefare with the Bismarck. Their systems seem to be enjoying it."
"Thank you Navigator," Cigol turned toward Communications and Operations Officer Breon Ty. "Mr. Ty, any word from our support forces?"
"Sort of Commander. I was able to pick up that, the Captain had been injured, but he's off the Time Dancer," Ty reported.
Commander Cigol nodded, "Good, cut through the interference and let them know we are here. Have whats left of our fighters take point around the ship in the Atom Orbit Formation. And give me an open channel."
Ty nodded and soon after gave the go ahead.
"This is Commander Cigol Nikephoros to all vessels within this area of space. You are to stop and desist immediately on the authority of the Coalition Alliance and withdrawn immediately. HMS Bismarck, under the authority of Field Marshall Taranis, is to power down all defenses and weaponry and turn over their commander for war charges against the Coalition Alliance. Time Dancer, is to immediately take point on our flank and prepare for aide to be rendered. To the two unknown ships in the area, be advised this is a warzone and should you fail to comply we will be force to assume you are in collusion with the enemy or have ulterior motives. You have 30 seconds to respond and identify."
Commander Cigol closed the link and turned toward Chief Tactical Officer Nai'ti. "Chief. I don't the Bismarck will comply. The moment we are in range. Fire at will."
"Yes sir," Nai'ti responded.
Commander Cigol turned toward the viewscreen and the Chief's eyes lay lingering on the alien officer. How did he become so...callus? No, that can't be the word...ruthless? Relentless? The Commander had changed and something must have triggered it. It wasn't all too long ago, herself and Commander Cigol, expressed the same concern for the Captain. Now was the Commander falling into the same hole? Or was there something else to this? Something they didn't know. Once this was over, if they got through it, she'll find out. She did it before, and she'll do it again.
It was her job as Head of Security.
* * *
"Is he stablized?" Major Wills called back, as his hands flew across the shuttle's controls, sending it into wild patterns and moves, it was not made for.
The shuttle and fighter had managed to walk themselves right out into the midst of a battle between capital ships. The squadron that was left behind, had done the sensible thing, when the Bismarck arrived, and that was defend the Time Dancer, until the other ships showed up and things got complicated.
"Yes! Yes!" Dr. Stratos exclaimed, being Dr. Lucas Rodden's current mouth piece as he tended to the Captain. "Moderate concussion, some broken bones, and a clot, but Lucas says the Ursan technology is accelerating his healing."
"Alright, good cause I'm going to need the Doctor to give the Captain something for high G maneuvers, and need you both to strap in. I'm going to be pushing the inertia compensator to the red line. Especially since the Barn just jumped in," the Major explained.
* * *
"Commander."
"Yes Mr. Briten?"
"The Bismarck is breaking off toward the newest ship that has arrived. She's launched weapons toward the Dancer," Briten reported.
"Liala..." the Commander called.
"On it Commander. Ploting a curved intercept course. We shall be able to intercept as much as possible, the missiles sent toward the Dancer and run parallel the hostile ship," Liala stated.
"Thank you. Ty please resend the message. And make it a note that the Bismarck is a war ship, with a war criminal, marked to be charged and surrender immediately."
Ty nodded, and Commander Cigol, merely rose a brow.
Lt. Colonel Follox, swooped and ducked and dodged and zigzagged with the grace of a ballerina, the tenacity of a parkour performer, and the raw power of an Olympian. He knew most of his team was down, but that that didn't matter.
From what he cared to hear, he knew that the Captain of the Dancer, had ordered his own men to fire upon the Field Marshall and was it about damn time.
"All able units fall back to the shuttle, and Major get the Captain the hell out of here!" he roared, as another large inch caliber came swooping, his augmented reflexes, sending him into a odd twist of a side way roll, that only those following the Karma Sutra could achieve for sure. He didn't stop, as he changed targets repeatedly between the hulking menaces, making sure to stay the distance, after he saw what they could do. Especially with their obvious psychokinetic abilities.
Damn it would be good to have that god hybrid with his, he quipped mentally, as he was roared along the force of another concussion blast.
Acknowledgments came back over the radio from his team, before CAG, Major Wills responded.
"Uh, Follox, what about your teams and yourself? I cant fit everyone in here and we still have people aboard that can't be transported in this tight firezone," the CAG pointed out.
"Exactly Kareem," the Lt. Colonel said as he was scrapped by another bullet. "You get the Captain and the Doctors out fast, back with the squad and haul ass as fast as possible toward the rendezvous point with the Valhalla. We'll try to hold off these bastards as long as we can, till our people are off the ship."
"Alright, bet," the Major acknowledged. "I'll be back for your bootlicking ass. You better save some fighting action for me."
"Pfft, your ass couldn't handle a job that's fit for a marine flyboy," Follox bellowed with an unexpected laugh. "You just better hope you get the Captain back safe, or else your ass will be licking my boots!"
"And you better get our people out and stay alive. Cause I sure as hell ain't becoming a marine in your honor," the Major replied before signing off.
The Lt. Colonel made a mad dash for the shuttle, and saw the two fighters that were laying down covering fire before take up position next to the shuttle. A stray shot, hit one of the fighters, sending it careening off to the side, toward a bunch of parked craft nearby. There was no way the pilot could safely eject, so he tried his best to maximize damage to the enemy as possible. The deck rocked violently, and the shockwave of heat and force smacked hard against Follox. He saw chain reaction explosions happening and motioned for his people to get out the way.
"Move! Move! Move!"
The shuttle and remaining fighter lifted off, surging out into the open expanse of space. Or rather out of the pan, into a whole other fire.
* * *
The Valhalla spat out into normal space, and the alarms and alerts went berserk.
"Detected weapons fire in the area!"
"The Time Dancer is moderately damaged!"
"Warning collision alert!"
"The Bismarck is attacking the Time Dancer and another unknown vessel!"
"Another vessel has been detected on scanners! Reading four contacts!"
"Status of our forces unknown. Attempting contact."
The flood of data coming in was tremendous.
"Commander, it seems things have...escalated, since our departure," Liala, stated obviously.
"It seems so," Commander Cigol agreed. "Full combat mode. Liala, get us between the Bismarck and Time Dancer. Coordinate with Chief Tact Nai'ti to maximize our firepower capabilities. Extreme force is authorized. I believe Evasive Pattern Tumble Barrel will be prudent."
Liala's digital avatar seemed to snicker before saluting, "Aye aye sir. I have also taken to responsibility of increasing our ECM/ECCM abilities, and started playing cyberwarefare with the Bismarck. Their systems seem to be enjoying it."
"Thank you Navigator," Cigol turned toward Communications and Operations Officer Breon Ty. "Mr. Ty, any word from our support forces?"
"Sort of Commander. I was able to pick up that, the Captain had been injured, but he's off the Time Dancer," Ty reported.
Commander Cigol nodded, "Good, cut through the interference and let them know we are here. Have whats left of our fighters take point around the ship in the Atom Orbit Formation. And give me an open channel."
Ty nodded and soon after gave the go ahead.
"This is Commander Cigol Nikephoros to all vessels within this area of space. You are to stop and desist immediately on the authority of the Coalition Alliance and withdrawn immediately. HMS Bismarck, under the authority of Field Marshall Taranis, is to power down all defenses and weaponry and turn over their commander for war charges against the Coalition Alliance. Time Dancer, is to immediately take point on our flank and prepare for aide to be rendered. To the two unknown ships in the area, be advised this is a warzone and should you fail to comply we will be force to assume you are in collusion with the enemy or have ulterior motives. You have 30 seconds to respond and identify."
Commander Cigol closed the link and turned toward Chief Tactical Officer Nai'ti. "Chief. I don't the Bismarck will comply. The moment we are in range. Fire at will."
"Yes sir," Nai'ti responded.
Commander Cigol turned toward the viewscreen and the Chief's eyes lay lingering on the alien officer. How did he become so...callus? No, that can't be the word...ruthless? Relentless? The Commander had changed and something must have triggered it. It wasn't all too long ago, herself and Commander Cigol, expressed the same concern for the Captain. Now was the Commander falling into the same hole? Or was there something else to this? Something they didn't know. Once this was over, if they got through it, she'll find out. She did it before, and she'll do it again.
It was her job as Head of Security.
* * *
"Is he stablized?" Major Wills called back, as his hands flew across the shuttle's controls, sending it into wild patterns and moves, it was not made for.
The shuttle and fighter had managed to walk themselves right out into the midst of a battle between capital ships. The squadron that was left behind, had done the sensible thing, when the Bismarck arrived, and that was defend the Time Dancer, until the other ships showed up and things got complicated.
"Yes! Yes!" Dr. Stratos exclaimed, being Dr. Lucas Rodden's current mouth piece as he tended to the Captain. "Moderate concussion, some broken bones, and a clot, but Lucas says the Ursan technology is accelerating his healing."
"Alright, good cause I'm going to need the Doctor to give the Captain something for high G maneuvers, and need you both to strap in. I'm going to be pushing the inertia compensator to the red line. Especially since the Barn just jumped in," the Major explained.
* * *
"Commander."
"Yes Mr. Briten?"
"The Bismarck is breaking off toward the newest ship that has arrived. She's launched weapons toward the Dancer," Briten reported.
"Liala..." the Commander called.
"On it Commander. Ploting a curved intercept course. We shall be able to intercept as much as possible, the missiles sent toward the Dancer and run parallel the hostile ship," Liala stated.
"Thank you. Ty please resend the message. And make it a note that the Bismarck is a war ship, with a war criminal, marked to be charged and surrender immediately."
Ty nodded, and Commander Cigol, merely rose a brow.
Elder Amaar seemed to consider the transmission from the Bismarch as well as the sensor display showing the ship position itself between them and the battle, as well as the fighter enroute to them, "Hm... very well. Send your wounded to us, our medical bay isn't exactly equipped for such a large amount of wounded, but we'll do what we can. Captain, try converting the obsevation deck to deal with the overflow."
Captain Tolarim was frowning, a slight disappoving look on his face, but he wasn't about to question somehow so high above him in rank, "Very well Elder." He touched a panle on his chair, "Medical by, this is the captain. We are about to recieve wounded from a presently embattled warship. Do what you can, enact triage protocols, military standard."
Elder Amaar nodded, "Good."
"Captain, Revered Elder. Another ship just arrived in the volume, heavil damaged. She's broadcasting, patching it through now." The comms officer said.
"This is Commander Cigol Nikephoros to all vessels within this area of space. You are to stop and desist immediately on the authority of the Coalition Alliance and withdrawn immediately. HMS Bismarck, under the authority of Field Marshall Taranis, is to power down all defenses and weaponry and turn over their commander for war charges against the Coalition Alliance. Time Dancer, is to immediately take point on our flank and prepare for aide to be rendered. To the two unknown ships in the area, be advised this is a warzone and should you fail to comply we will be force to assume you are in collusion with the enemy or have ulterior motives. You have 30 seconds to respond and identify."
"Open a channel." The Elder commanded, once it wasactivate she said, "This is Elder Nariel Amaar of the Ancient House Amaar of the Aunidiel Terelains, we are a neutral diplomatic ship taking on wounded from the Bismark. We reititerate our wish that hostilities come to end immediately and all parties capable are to convene aboard this vessel for peace talks in a neautral setting. I have no idea what the hell is going on, but I suggest we all keep our distance from the ship designated Time Dancer until communications can be re-established." She sighed, "I also advise that any hostile action taken towards the shuttles transporting the wounded or this vessel will be considered acts of war against my people." She sighed, "If you lot want proof of why attacking this vessel is a bad idea, then I'll have my AI send you a few historical files on the last war my people waged. It was not pleasant. End transmission."
"Power down the weapons systems by half, let's show them we have no hostile intent of our own, but keep the shields at maximum... and keep the engines ticking over. Any luck locating where we are?" The captain asked.
"No known star-systems within a 20 light-year radius, stellar topography suggest we're located somewhere in the Deep Frontier, but there are no nav-beacons indicitive of mapping by the old probes. I have plotted several possible courses if we need to make a quick exit." The helm officer said.
"That'll have to do... Mr Rilam, plot the most favourable escape route and be ready to execute an insertion into Aether-space at a moment's notice." The captain commanded.
Captain Tolarim was frowning, a slight disappoving look on his face, but he wasn't about to question somehow so high above him in rank, "Very well Elder." He touched a panle on his chair, "Medical by, this is the captain. We are about to recieve wounded from a presently embattled warship. Do what you can, enact triage protocols, military standard."
Elder Amaar nodded, "Good."
"Captain, Revered Elder. Another ship just arrived in the volume, heavil damaged. She's broadcasting, patching it through now." The comms officer said.
"This is Commander Cigol Nikephoros to all vessels within this area of space. You are to stop and desist immediately on the authority of the Coalition Alliance and withdrawn immediately. HMS Bismarck, under the authority of Field Marshall Taranis, is to power down all defenses and weaponry and turn over their commander for war charges against the Coalition Alliance. Time Dancer, is to immediately take point on our flank and prepare for aide to be rendered. To the two unknown ships in the area, be advised this is a warzone and should you fail to comply we will be force to assume you are in collusion with the enemy or have ulterior motives. You have 30 seconds to respond and identify."
"Open a channel." The Elder commanded, once it wasactivate she said, "This is Elder Nariel Amaar of the Ancient House Amaar of the Aunidiel Terelains, we are a neutral diplomatic ship taking on wounded from the Bismark. We reititerate our wish that hostilities come to end immediately and all parties capable are to convene aboard this vessel for peace talks in a neautral setting. I have no idea what the hell is going on, but I suggest we all keep our distance from the ship designated Time Dancer until communications can be re-established." She sighed, "I also advise that any hostile action taken towards the shuttles transporting the wounded or this vessel will be considered acts of war against my people." She sighed, "If you lot want proof of why attacking this vessel is a bad idea, then I'll have my AI send you a few historical files on the last war my people waged. It was not pleasant. End transmission."
"Power down the weapons systems by half, let's show them we have no hostile intent of our own, but keep the shields at maximum... and keep the engines ticking over. Any luck locating where we are?" The captain asked.
"No known star-systems within a 20 light-year radius, stellar topography suggest we're located somewhere in the Deep Frontier, but there are no nav-beacons indicitive of mapping by the old probes. I have plotted several possible courses if we need to make a quick exit." The helm officer said.
"That'll have to do... Mr Rilam, plot the most favourable escape route and be ready to execute an insertion into Aether-space at a moment's notice." The captain commanded.
"Sir! The Valhalla just got out of FTL!" The radar operator said, and had a small look of panic on his face. He looked back, and saw that the ship got ready to fire. There was going to be debris everywhere. "Sir, they sent a message for us to surrender! They've charged weapons!"
"What? What's our status on the shields?" Braesk asked, concerned now. He looked out. Yup, there she was. Damaged as hell, and still deadly. He didn't want to know what they might have in stake.
"Down, sir. Another 10 minutes!"
"Shit! Finish them off! I want the Hellraiser cannons fired, ten rounds. Then angel the ship forward, guard the diplomats. Activate the Nova Cannon, and load the planet buster. Set it for 1 second delay. Fire."
The ship fired the 60 foot cannons, the recoil pushing it back slightly, but then began leaning into it. By the time the second wave fired, they moved forward. Ten deadly shells in the air, and one more to come. They were not joking around. As soon as they turned, the Lance batteries open fired. Fast moving laser like weaponry shot out, spewing energy bolts at a high rate of fire.
They charged up the Nova Cannon, and loaded in the shells. Hopefully, they would work.
****
Ascrith didn't have much time. He jumped out of the way as the explosions tore up the hanger bay, and was teleported to the ship. Everyone was, including those not equipped with the homing beacon. Ascrith made sure of that.
And waiting with them was a surprise. Ascrith got down first, and moved out of the circle. As soon as everyone else got there, there was two ten man Marine squads, and five 10 man Guardsmen squads. They had flamethrowers and their normal weaponry pointed at them.
"Dodge this, you bitch,"
*****
"This is Captain Robbins speaking. Requesting permission to land. Inbound at ETA 5 minutes, present speed," Captain Robbins said, sitting down at the radio. He waited for a response. This was just how he did things. By his way. Robbins was a captain of the Death Korps, the elite SS men of the Imperial Guardsmen. They were all armed with high powered 13mm guns, powerful enough to blast through even the thickest infantry armor, but non explosive.
There were 20 men on board, each dressed in their clothes. They wore black combat boots, and black armor pads on their shoulder, chest, elbows, knees, forearms, and crotch. The clothes was brown, with camouflage on it to blend in with the ground. They each wore a black helmet with the SS insignia on it, and the Death Korps logo of a skull with a bullet hole through the head.
"What? What's our status on the shields?" Braesk asked, concerned now. He looked out. Yup, there she was. Damaged as hell, and still deadly. He didn't want to know what they might have in stake.
"Down, sir. Another 10 minutes!"
"Shit! Finish them off! I want the Hellraiser cannons fired, ten rounds. Then angel the ship forward, guard the diplomats. Activate the Nova Cannon, and load the planet buster. Set it for 1 second delay. Fire."
The ship fired the 60 foot cannons, the recoil pushing it back slightly, but then began leaning into it. By the time the second wave fired, they moved forward. Ten deadly shells in the air, and one more to come. They were not joking around. As soon as they turned, the Lance batteries open fired. Fast moving laser like weaponry shot out, spewing energy bolts at a high rate of fire.
They charged up the Nova Cannon, and loaded in the shells. Hopefully, they would work.
****
Ascrith didn't have much time. He jumped out of the way as the explosions tore up the hanger bay, and was teleported to the ship. Everyone was, including those not equipped with the homing beacon. Ascrith made sure of that.
And waiting with them was a surprise. Ascrith got down first, and moved out of the circle. As soon as everyone else got there, there was two ten man Marine squads, and five 10 man Guardsmen squads. They had flamethrowers and their normal weaponry pointed at them.
"Dodge this, you bitch,"
*****
"This is Captain Robbins speaking. Requesting permission to land. Inbound at ETA 5 minutes, present speed," Captain Robbins said, sitting down at the radio. He waited for a response. This was just how he did things. By his way. Robbins was a captain of the Death Korps, the elite SS men of the Imperial Guardsmen. They were all armed with high powered 13mm guns, powerful enough to blast through even the thickest infantry armor, but non explosive.
There were 20 men on board, each dressed in their clothes. They wore black combat boots, and black armor pads on their shoulder, chest, elbows, knees, forearms, and crotch. The clothes was brown, with camouflage on it to blend in with the ground. They each wore a black helmet with the SS insignia on it, and the Death Korps logo of a skull with a bullet hole through the head.
The Tarkat Nictov hyper spaced out of the vicinity but it's long range communications devices were enabled to stay in contact, it had prepared a message in text format since it did not have all the proper pre recordings to suit for the current operation at hand. The message was sent to the Bismark it read *You have made an excellent opponent, you have our gratitude. If needed this capture vessel will remain within the vicinity* The Tarkat Nictov then disabled its weapon systems in terms of standing down. It had taken quite a beating and drones were activated to begin structural repairs immediately.
The comms officer replied to Robbins, "Acknowledged, permission granted. Hangar doors will open at your approach. The Revered Elders extend greetings to you, captain."
"Sir! The Bismarck just opened fire on the inbound Coalition vessel!" The sensor officer exclaimed.
"Toren take those trigger-happy idiots!" Captain Tolarim growled, "ETA on those shuttles?"
"Five minutes sir." The sensor officer reported.
"Damn... hold position until they arrive. Aelya, tactical analysis?"
"If we were in a proper warship I could take them... as the situation stands I recommend exiting this volume at the first opportunity." The calm feminine voice of the ship's AI advised.
"I just wish we knew what they're fighting for in the first place." Nariel's husband, Elder Nathaniel Tynian, said, "I hate being in the dark."
"Once we have the wounded on board I suggest we retreat to a safe distance." Nariel said.
"Exactly what I was thinking, Ancient One." Captain Tolarim said
"Must you use that honorific?" She asked with a pained expression.
"Not if you do not wish it so, Elder of Elders." He replied.
Nariel groaned.
"Sir! The Bismarck just opened fire on the inbound Coalition vessel!" The sensor officer exclaimed.
"Toren take those trigger-happy idiots!" Captain Tolarim growled, "ETA on those shuttles?"
"Five minutes sir." The sensor officer reported.
"Damn... hold position until they arrive. Aelya, tactical analysis?"
"If we were in a proper warship I could take them... as the situation stands I recommend exiting this volume at the first opportunity." The calm feminine voice of the ship's AI advised.
"I just wish we knew what they're fighting for in the first place." Nariel's husband, Elder Nathaniel Tynian, said, "I hate being in the dark."
"Once we have the wounded on board I suggest we retreat to a safe distance." Nariel said.
"Exactly what I was thinking, Ancient One." Captain Tolarim said
"Must you use that honorific?" She asked with a pained expression.
"Not if you do not wish it so, Elder of Elders." He replied.
Nariel groaned.
The ships landed, and the medics began unloading the wounded, giving it to their new allies, so to speak. Robbins knew of the attack, and it was justified. It was very damn justified. After what they did? Anyway, he got off the fighter, and stood in front of everything, the Death Korps standing behind him. If they tried anything funny, bad things would happen.
They held their weapons high, and the count was as such: 10 Assault rifles of the caliber 13mm with drum rounds, five automatic 10 guage shotguns, and 5 SMGs of the caliber 14mm. Robbins himself held an SMG with a scope and drum round.
*****
"Well, they say they surrender. What should we do?" The 1st Lieutenant asked. He was very confused.
"Finish them. It's most likely a trap, and we don't need a ship," Braesk said, and watched in happiness as a flurry of shells flew through the air, aiming for the enemy ship.
They held their weapons high, and the count was as such: 10 Assault rifles of the caliber 13mm with drum rounds, five automatic 10 guage shotguns, and 5 SMGs of the caliber 14mm. Robbins himself held an SMG with a scope and drum round.
*****
"Well, they say they surrender. What should we do?" The 1st Lieutenant asked. He was very confused.
"Finish them. It's most likely a trap, and we don't need a ship," Braesk said, and watched in happiness as a flurry of shells flew through the air, aiming for the enemy ship.
"This is Elder Nariel Amaar of the Ancient House Amaar of the Aunidiel Terelains, we are a neutral diplomatic ship taking on wounded from the Bismark. We reiterate our wish that hostilities come to end immediately and all parties capable are to convene aboard this vessel for peace talks in a neutral setting. I have no idea what the hell is going on, but I suggest we all keep our distance from the ship designated Time Dancer until communications can be re-established." She sighed, "I also advise that any hostile action taken towards the shuttles transporting the wounded or this vessel will be considered acts of war against my people.If you lot want proof of why attacking this vessel is a bad idea, then I'll have my AI send you a few historical files on the last war my people waged. It was not pleasant. End transmission."
Commander Cigol Nikephoros listened to the transmission and sighed in annoyance. No sooner than the transmission ended, the scanner lit up frantically as the Bismarck immediately began to attack.
"Seems they beat us to the mark Sir," Nai'ti noted, as her hands flew over her station's controls.
"They surely did Lieutenant," Commander Cigol responded, as he pressed a few buttons. "Wait to send a response Mr. Ty."
Everyone held silent, watching the data scroll onto their scene and the events unfold. Then it began to happen.
"Commander..."
"I see it Navigator Liala," the Commander assured, as he watched the Bismarck let loose ten large ballistic shells at a high rate of velocity, then slowly began to lumber itself, angled toward the Valhalla, charging its giant cannon.
Everyone seemed to kick into overdrive.
"Liala, initiate, Phase Two, of E.P Tumble Barrel. Ty the when we have cleared the Time Dancer enough, have all small craft recalled and secured. Lieutenant Nai'ti, please begin preparing for Contingency Barrel Fish," the Commander ordered.
They all nodded and the got to work, just as they had planned the first time they meet the Time Dancer. Captain Nikoli's philosophy of not believing in coincidences seem to have payed off. When he saw to assigning the engineering teams to the Dancer, he also made sure they reported as much as possible on the capabilities of the ship, including its offensive capabilities, like the large cannon they had. A number of teams on the Valhalla, sat in dark rooms, going over the data, trying to ascertain its effectiveness and efficiency as a full fledged tactical weapon. With the engineering teams creating small scale mockups with the mangled particle beam cannons they had, to the spooks/intelligence officers analyzing the data, the tactical teams devising offensive/defensive strategies, and the navigation teams plotting differing evasive points, they all worked around the clock on it.
When they meet the HMS Bismarck it was super accelerated and they worked until their bodies couldn't even function anymore. However, in the end, they came up with a plan. A plan that laid heavily on Navigator Liala's special skills.
The Valhalla piloted by Liala, began its axis barrel roll, arcing slightly away the Time Dancer. Her weapons fought valiantly to stave off the attack on her their "allied" ship, and they managed to score a large chunk of them, but as usual not all.
"Commander, we've picked up all over our birds. The CAG says that the engineering teams and Lt. Colonel Follox, is still aboard the Time Dancer," reported Comm Officer Ty.
Commander Cigol merely nodded, watching the navigational data as Liala begin the next phase of their plan.
"Commander," Liala said as she her avatar popped up on her display. "I will be now redlining the engines and breaking pass the normal bounds of the inertia compensator efficiency. Least to say, you will fill the bumps."
Just as she finished, Cigol could feel the ship groan and creak, as the engines went pass overflank.
The Valhalla began another series of maneuvers, a sort of controlled corkscrew tail spin, barrel roll toward the Bismarck.
"They've fired the cannon!" Nai'ti reported with strain. "The blast will reach us before the ballistic shells!"
Liala took that as her cue, as she sent the Valhalla, still on its corkscrew path, swirling toward the blast/beam. She measured the diameter of it using the ships scanners and computer, and calculate the maneuvers she'd have to do to swirl around the perimeter of it. At this point, this were moving closer to light speed, far faster than the ship's operators were use to.
It would only be a few more seconds before contact, and Liala let out a nervous laughter as she realized that her entire purpose had been a cultivation leading up to this point. Even as an android, she could feel the rush, the euphoria, of realizing that everything else didn't matter, just this one moment, this one event.
And then contact.
The Valhalla danced around the place, as if she was riding along a whirlpool. The ship shuddered and moaned, as the shock wave from the beam, rippled along her frame, sending ungodly vibration. She kept her focus on keeping the ship moving, barely catching in time the ten ballistic projectiles. She ran through a dozen scenarios, merged several of the best, and initiate them on the worst case plot, sending the ship through another set of motions.
Liala, tried her best. Better then anyone else could manage, but the laws of the universe, demand equal exchange and it came. She came to an impasse, a rock and a hard place that she couldn't avoid. The top of the dorsal "Conn" tower, was sheared off completely by the beam; incinerating several decks with personal. Liala, could feel as if the Valhalla, screamed out in pain, just as she screamed out, as a part of her was destroyed. Yet, it wasn't over.
Two of the projectiles managed to get in the perfect formation to have the Valhalla wedged inbetween them. They were simply unavoidable, and they went scrapping deep along the haul of the ship.
"The engines....protect...the....engines..." Commander Cigol strained to Liala.
Liala had already spotted it and sent the ship into a harder axis spin, and the projectile slipped passed the engine pylons, nearly.
The shuddering and tremors stopped. They had gotten through that gotten. Heavily damaged, but still there.
And this time, it was time for a little payback themselves.
Commander Cigol checked over the displays and saw they were quickly moving in on the Bismarck. He along with the crew that a close range battle with that behemoth was damn right suicide, but at the moment they need unconventional tactics. Already they were accelerating at velocities, that should distort their scanner systems, and with Liala doing cyberwarefare, their next move should surely come as a surprise.
"Navigator Liala, please get us to the aft of the Bismarck and make sure we are between them and the diplomatic ship," Commander Cigol ordered. "Mr. Nai'ti...fire everything we have down their throats."
The Valhalla surged forward on their wide erratic course and surely enough, meet with heavy fire from the enemy's multiple weapons. The Valhalla's shields took the enormous brute of firepower, but they definitely wouldn't last long. However, with the Bismark's down, just a few minutes of them was a blessing to the crew of the Valhalla. Not one to sit back and take a beating, the Coalition ship, let loose its own dogs of hell, rotating its large MAPL/railgun ship to ship cannons and firing at the ship. Alongside that, particle beams and electron beams slashed out at the kilometers long Battle barge, burning and incinerating anything and everything, whilst she let loose a throw weight of 120 assorted missiles and torpedoes at the enemy combat.
And finally, as the coup de grace, the launch bay doors for four of the InterStellar Ballistic Missiles, opened up and soared gracefully away from the Valhalla toward the Bismarck, unleashing the nuclear fury of a fusion bomb.
Commander Cigol watched the carnage, whilst the Valhalla shuddered violently.
Perhaps the Bismarck will think otherwise on its decision.
And perhaps now, the diplomatic ship will see the error of their ways.
"Ty," the Commander called out. "General channel. This is the Valhalla, we will not repeat ourselves again. This is a warzone. Diplomacy is not held in a warzone, not after the enemy combats scorched an entire planet as an attempt to shock others into submission. They will not be allowed to curry refugee behind those who naive and oblivious to the situation. You have shown that, double motives, questionable and illogical, whereas you ask to cease hostiles, and allow you to be a mediator as a neutral third party. Yet, you have allowed war criminals aboard your ship, declarative getting involved and becoming non neutral and interfering in an affair that is not of your own. I am not in the habit of repeating myself, is a human expression that I believe applies. Withdraw from the area until it is secured and should you wish further communication with the Coalition, you may do so through the correct channels."
Commander Cigol closed the link and looked at Ty as the ship shuddered more under the battle barge's firepower.
"We will be courteous and send them a log of what happened at Calypso and if you can, what happened on the Time Dancer."
Commander Cigol Nikephoros listened to the transmission and sighed in annoyance. No sooner than the transmission ended, the scanner lit up frantically as the Bismarck immediately began to attack.
"Seems they beat us to the mark Sir," Nai'ti noted, as her hands flew over her station's controls.
"They surely did Lieutenant," Commander Cigol responded, as he pressed a few buttons. "Wait to send a response Mr. Ty."
Everyone held silent, watching the data scroll onto their scene and the events unfold. Then it began to happen.
"Commander..."
"I see it Navigator Liala," the Commander assured, as he watched the Bismarck let loose ten large ballistic shells at a high rate of velocity, then slowly began to lumber itself, angled toward the Valhalla, charging its giant cannon.
Everyone seemed to kick into overdrive.
"Liala, initiate, Phase Two, of E.P Tumble Barrel. Ty the when we have cleared the Time Dancer enough, have all small craft recalled and secured. Lieutenant Nai'ti, please begin preparing for Contingency Barrel Fish," the Commander ordered.
They all nodded and the got to work, just as they had planned the first time they meet the Time Dancer. Captain Nikoli's philosophy of not believing in coincidences seem to have payed off. When he saw to assigning the engineering teams to the Dancer, he also made sure they reported as much as possible on the capabilities of the ship, including its offensive capabilities, like the large cannon they had. A number of teams on the Valhalla, sat in dark rooms, going over the data, trying to ascertain its effectiveness and efficiency as a full fledged tactical weapon. With the engineering teams creating small scale mockups with the mangled particle beam cannons they had, to the spooks/intelligence officers analyzing the data, the tactical teams devising offensive/defensive strategies, and the navigation teams plotting differing evasive points, they all worked around the clock on it.
When they meet the HMS Bismarck it was super accelerated and they worked until their bodies couldn't even function anymore. However, in the end, they came up with a plan. A plan that laid heavily on Navigator Liala's special skills.
The Valhalla piloted by Liala, began its axis barrel roll, arcing slightly away the Time Dancer. Her weapons fought valiantly to stave off the attack on her their "allied" ship, and they managed to score a large chunk of them, but as usual not all.
"Commander, we've picked up all over our birds. The CAG says that the engineering teams and Lt. Colonel Follox, is still aboard the Time Dancer," reported Comm Officer Ty.
Commander Cigol merely nodded, watching the navigational data as Liala begin the next phase of their plan.
"Commander," Liala said as she her avatar popped up on her display. "I will be now redlining the engines and breaking pass the normal bounds of the inertia compensator efficiency. Least to say, you will fill the bumps."
Just as she finished, Cigol could feel the ship groan and creak, as the engines went pass overflank.
The Valhalla began another series of maneuvers, a sort of controlled corkscrew tail spin, barrel roll toward the Bismarck.
"They've fired the cannon!" Nai'ti reported with strain. "The blast will reach us before the ballistic shells!"
Liala took that as her cue, as she sent the Valhalla, still on its corkscrew path, swirling toward the blast/beam. She measured the diameter of it using the ships scanners and computer, and calculate the maneuvers she'd have to do to swirl around the perimeter of it. At this point, this were moving closer to light speed, far faster than the ship's operators were use to.
It would only be a few more seconds before contact, and Liala let out a nervous laughter as she realized that her entire purpose had been a cultivation leading up to this point. Even as an android, she could feel the rush, the euphoria, of realizing that everything else didn't matter, just this one moment, this one event.
And then contact.
The Valhalla danced around the place, as if she was riding along a whirlpool. The ship shuddered and moaned, as the shock wave from the beam, rippled along her frame, sending ungodly vibration. She kept her focus on keeping the ship moving, barely catching in time the ten ballistic projectiles. She ran through a dozen scenarios, merged several of the best, and initiate them on the worst case plot, sending the ship through another set of motions.
Liala, tried her best. Better then anyone else could manage, but the laws of the universe, demand equal exchange and it came. She came to an impasse, a rock and a hard place that she couldn't avoid. The top of the dorsal "Conn" tower, was sheared off completely by the beam; incinerating several decks with personal. Liala, could feel as if the Valhalla, screamed out in pain, just as she screamed out, as a part of her was destroyed. Yet, it wasn't over.
Two of the projectiles managed to get in the perfect formation to have the Valhalla wedged inbetween them. They were simply unavoidable, and they went scrapping deep along the haul of the ship.
"The engines....protect...the....engines..." Commander Cigol strained to Liala.
Liala had already spotted it and sent the ship into a harder axis spin, and the projectile slipped passed the engine pylons, nearly.
The shuddering and tremors stopped. They had gotten through that gotten. Heavily damaged, but still there.
And this time, it was time for a little payback themselves.
Commander Cigol checked over the displays and saw they were quickly moving in on the Bismarck. He along with the crew that a close range battle with that behemoth was damn right suicide, but at the moment they need unconventional tactics. Already they were accelerating at velocities, that should distort their scanner systems, and with Liala doing cyberwarefare, their next move should surely come as a surprise.
"Navigator Liala, please get us to the aft of the Bismarck and make sure we are between them and the diplomatic ship," Commander Cigol ordered. "Mr. Nai'ti...fire everything we have down their throats."
The Valhalla surged forward on their wide erratic course and surely enough, meet with heavy fire from the enemy's multiple weapons. The Valhalla's shields took the enormous brute of firepower, but they definitely wouldn't last long. However, with the Bismark's down, just a few minutes of them was a blessing to the crew of the Valhalla. Not one to sit back and take a beating, the Coalition ship, let loose its own dogs of hell, rotating its large MAPL/railgun ship to ship cannons and firing at the ship. Alongside that, particle beams and electron beams slashed out at the kilometers long Battle barge, burning and incinerating anything and everything, whilst she let loose a throw weight of 120 assorted missiles and torpedoes at the enemy combat.
And finally, as the coup de grace, the launch bay doors for four of the InterStellar Ballistic Missiles, opened up and soared gracefully away from the Valhalla toward the Bismarck, unleashing the nuclear fury of a fusion bomb.
Commander Cigol watched the carnage, whilst the Valhalla shuddered violently.
Perhaps the Bismarck will think otherwise on its decision.
And perhaps now, the diplomatic ship will see the error of their ways.
"Ty," the Commander called out. "General channel. This is the Valhalla, we will not repeat ourselves again. This is a warzone. Diplomacy is not held in a warzone, not after the enemy combats scorched an entire planet as an attempt to shock others into submission. They will not be allowed to curry refugee behind those who naive and oblivious to the situation. You have shown that, double motives, questionable and illogical, whereas you ask to cease hostiles, and allow you to be a mediator as a neutral third party. Yet, you have allowed war criminals aboard your ship, declarative getting involved and becoming non neutral and interfering in an affair that is not of your own. I am not in the habit of repeating myself, is a human expression that I believe applies. Withdraw from the area until it is secured and should you wish further communication with the Coalition, you may do so through the correct channels."
Commander Cigol closed the link and looked at Ty as the ship shuddered more under the battle barge's firepower.
"We will be courteous and send them a log of what happened at Calypso and if you can, what happened on the Time Dancer."
((This is one of those moments where you hear a chorus singing in the background, and no audio of the battle, ain't it? I can see that... 
))
Braesk stopped, and stared. The ship... The enemy ship... She lived. She lived! How? How, by the name of god, did she survive? He watched as the enemy ship began to broadside them, and fire her cannons. He couldn't hear anything, he couldn't do much. The noise was drowned out.
Their ship rocked to the side, the rounds ripping through their armor like paper. It went in one end, and ripped out the other, exploding back there. Debris flew everywhere, and the ship's doors shut down on each open place. But could they last? Could they get the shields back up in time? Maybe... Just maybe...
The FLaK cannons and Anti Missile defenses sprung into action, firing like mad into the air. Turrets of 45mm miniguns began shooting up the dark sky, blasting into torpedoes and missiles as they fired. They destroyed half, but more came, more and more. And then they hit.
Chunks flew off like ice when hit by a shovel. It shattered up, and blew to pieces. Hundreds died in a second, a thousand in a minute. Carnage, death, destruction. It was all there. But there was more hope.
"WE'VE GOT IT! THE SHIELDS ARE UP!" The voice was heard, and received as a gift. Now they could pay back what the enemy needed. At that second, the missile hit, and the light almost blinded everyone. It exploded on the shields, crackling and depleting them again. But they were prepared. As soon as it died, they hit back up again with the backups, and went into overdrive.
"FIRE EVERYTHING!"
The ship moved closer, still hurt, still damaged badly. They probably wouldn't survive, but they would bring down that ship if they could. They fired every thing. And by everything, it really was every gun they could aim. FLaK, Fighters, Hellraiser Cannons, Valkaries of all sorts, KKVs, Lasers, Plasma, 800mms, anything they could shoot.
"Open a channel. Now!" Braesk said, and stood up, a cut down his face from when he fell. "Valhalla, this is the Bismarck. I regret to inform you, friend, that we do have Ascrith on board. However, we also have a surprise. On board with Ascrith, and staring down the barrel of many guns, is your men. No, not the ones on the shuttle. Those will be taken care of later."
))Braesk stopped, and stared. The ship... The enemy ship... She lived. She lived! How? How, by the name of god, did she survive? He watched as the enemy ship began to broadside them, and fire her cannons. He couldn't hear anything, he couldn't do much. The noise was drowned out.
Their ship rocked to the side, the rounds ripping through their armor like paper. It went in one end, and ripped out the other, exploding back there. Debris flew everywhere, and the ship's doors shut down on each open place. But could they last? Could they get the shields back up in time? Maybe... Just maybe...
The FLaK cannons and Anti Missile defenses sprung into action, firing like mad into the air. Turrets of 45mm miniguns began shooting up the dark sky, blasting into torpedoes and missiles as they fired. They destroyed half, but more came, more and more. And then they hit.
Chunks flew off like ice when hit by a shovel. It shattered up, and blew to pieces. Hundreds died in a second, a thousand in a minute. Carnage, death, destruction. It was all there. But there was more hope.
"WE'VE GOT IT! THE SHIELDS ARE UP!" The voice was heard, and received as a gift. Now they could pay back what the enemy needed. At that second, the missile hit, and the light almost blinded everyone. It exploded on the shields, crackling and depleting them again. But they were prepared. As soon as it died, they hit back up again with the backups, and went into overdrive.
"FIRE EVERYTHING!"
The ship moved closer, still hurt, still damaged badly. They probably wouldn't survive, but they would bring down that ship if they could. They fired every thing. And by everything, it really was every gun they could aim. FLaK, Fighters, Hellraiser Cannons, Valkaries of all sorts, KKVs, Lasers, Plasma, 800mms, anything they could shoot.
"Open a channel. Now!" Braesk said, and stood up, a cut down his face from when he fell. "Valhalla, this is the Bismarck. I regret to inform you, friend, that we do have Ascrith on board. However, we also have a surprise. On board with Ascrith, and staring down the barrel of many guns, is your men. No, not the ones on the shuttle. Those will be taken care of later."
(I just so happened to be listening to Samuel Barber's Agnus Dei: Adagio for strings when I was reading it. It fit surprisingly well)
The bridge of the Hand of Terel as utterly silent as every eye was turned towards the holographic displays depicting the ongoing space battle. The manaeouvres the Valhalla had pulled to evade enemy fire and then broadside the behemoth from behind had awed everyone, particularly the helmsman who said, "Sir... if those guys survive this I want to shake that pilot's hand. That was some serious flying."
"Sir, the Coalition vessel is severely damaged. I'm not sure if they'll survive this." The sensor officer said, "But they're battering the Bismarck... I think they're both going to end up blowing each other up."
"Sir, we've just recieved a message from the Coalition vessel." The communications officer said, tapping a holographic symbol.
"This is the Valhalla, we will not repeat ourselves again. This is a warzone. Diplomacy is not held in a warzone, not after the enemy combats scorched an entire planet as an attempt to shock others into submission. They will not be allowed to curry refugee behind those who naive and oblivious to the situation. You have shown that, double motives, questionable and illogical, whereas you ask to cease hostiles, and allow you to be a mediator as a neutral third party. Yet, you have allowed war criminals aboard your ship, declarative getting involved and becoming non neutral and interfering in an affair that is not of your own. I am not in the habit of repeating myself, is a human expression that I believe applies. Withdraw from the area until it is secured and should you wish further communication with the Coalition, you may do so through the correct channels."
"Well... damn." Nariel muttered, "Send a message to the Valhalla."
"Channel opened, Elder."
"Valhalla, this is Elder Amaar. We rendered aid to the Bismark only because they had wounded and we were obligated to assist. We are not trying to take sides here. War-criminals or not, we will continue to care for these wounded men until their guilt in the matter can be ascertained... I've seen it happen too often were species such as yours simply blast innocents out of the sky along with the guilty. The non-wounded aoard will be detained. End transmission."
"Captain, activate the ship's internal communications, signal the Honour Guard, tell them that Captain Robbins is to be brought to my quarters I wis to speak with him. His men are to disarm until we are done." Nariel said.
"With all due respect, Elder, that man could be dangerous. I do not think-" Tolarm began.
"I'm not stupid, captain. I will take the proper precautions. I have not lived for this long by being foolish." She turned towards the doors that led to the corridor beyond the bridge and left the room along with her husband.
The captain sighed, "Mr Rilam, back us away from the battle, let's put some distance between us and the inevitable explosion. Bring the weapons back up to full power, I've never trusted aliens not to shoot you in the back."
The bridge of the Hand of Terel as utterly silent as every eye was turned towards the holographic displays depicting the ongoing space battle. The manaeouvres the Valhalla had pulled to evade enemy fire and then broadside the behemoth from behind had awed everyone, particularly the helmsman who said, "Sir... if those guys survive this I want to shake that pilot's hand. That was some serious flying."
"Sir, the Coalition vessel is severely damaged. I'm not sure if they'll survive this." The sensor officer said, "But they're battering the Bismarck... I think they're both going to end up blowing each other up."
"Sir, we've just recieved a message from the Coalition vessel." The communications officer said, tapping a holographic symbol.
"This is the Valhalla, we will not repeat ourselves again. This is a warzone. Diplomacy is not held in a warzone, not after the enemy combats scorched an entire planet as an attempt to shock others into submission. They will not be allowed to curry refugee behind those who naive and oblivious to the situation. You have shown that, double motives, questionable and illogical, whereas you ask to cease hostiles, and allow you to be a mediator as a neutral third party. Yet, you have allowed war criminals aboard your ship, declarative getting involved and becoming non neutral and interfering in an affair that is not of your own. I am not in the habit of repeating myself, is a human expression that I believe applies. Withdraw from the area until it is secured and should you wish further communication with the Coalition, you may do so through the correct channels."
"Well... damn." Nariel muttered, "Send a message to the Valhalla."
"Channel opened, Elder."
"Valhalla, this is Elder Amaar. We rendered aid to the Bismark only because they had wounded and we were obligated to assist. We are not trying to take sides here. War-criminals or not, we will continue to care for these wounded men until their guilt in the matter can be ascertained... I've seen it happen too often were species such as yours simply blast innocents out of the sky along with the guilty. The non-wounded aoard will be detained. End transmission."
"Captain, activate the ship's internal communications, signal the Honour Guard, tell them that Captain Robbins is to be brought to my quarters I wis to speak with him. His men are to disarm until we are done." Nariel said.
"With all due respect, Elder, that man could be dangerous. I do not think-" Tolarm began.
"I'm not stupid, captain. I will take the proper precautions. I have not lived for this long by being foolish." She turned towards the doors that led to the corridor beyond the bridge and left the room along with her husband.
The captain sighed, "Mr Rilam, back us away from the battle, let's put some distance between us and the inevitable explosion. Bring the weapons back up to full power, I've never trusted aliens not to shoot you in the back."
Robbins stood with one hand on his SMG, and another on his side. The SMG was pointed downwards, held by one hand. He had a rifle, and an AA12 10 guage shotgun on his back, all in between the space of his back and his backpack, which carried anything he needed. He had no gasmask on, but did have the Death Korps helmet on, with a large SS symbol on it, and two gold bars that symbolized Captain. His mask was at his neck.
"I want my men taken care of, soldier," Robbins said, talking to a man who he walked up to. "And do you have any news?"
"I want my men taken care of, soldier," Robbins said, talking to a man who he walked up to. "And do you have any news?"
"News doesn't seem to be good for your side. The Valhalla survived the first attack and then broadsided your ship before she could raise her shields. According to what's filtered down to the bridge both ships are tossing everything they have at each other. The concensus is that they'll both go up any minute." The Terelain Marine said. He was wearing a rather archaic-looking set of silver body armour and in his right hand was an elegantly crafted ceremonial spear. At his hip, however, was a sleek-looking pistol and a discreet device on his belt might have been a personal shield generator. These men were obviously supposed to impress dignitaries and foreign officials, but they had not forgotten their primary purpose - to protect the ship and, more importantly, the Elders aboard it. It was likely that the spear was more than just decorative as well, though how much use it would be in a gunfight was up for debate.
"Elder Amaar wishes to see you in her quarters. Your men are to be disarmed and detained... they will be treated with all due courtesy but I believe the Elders have recieved more information about the events that instigated the conflict we seemed to have wandered into. I expect that this is what Elder Amaar wishes to speak to you about." The soldier looked stern, "Hand your weapons over to your men. I'm afraid you will not be allowed to bear arms in the presence of a Revered Elder... I'm sure you can understand why."
"Elder Amaar wishes to see you in her quarters. Your men are to be disarmed and detained... they will be treated with all due courtesy but I believe the Elders have recieved more information about the events that instigated the conflict we seemed to have wandered into. I expect that this is what Elder Amaar wishes to speak to you about." The soldier looked stern, "Hand your weapons over to your men. I'm afraid you will not be allowed to bear arms in the presence of a Revered Elder... I'm sure you can understand why."
Robbins nodded, and did exactly as he was told to do. He took his weapons off, handing the SMG to his Sergeant. Next he handed his rifle, a Carbine with a scope on it, and his AA12 to the same person. Then the sidearms, and then his Bowie Knife. Now he was ready to go. He knew that the ships were in bad conditions, but as god was his lord, which he wasn't, he wasn't going down without a fight.
"Yeah, good luck with that, friend. But take me to your leader, please," Robbins said, walking forward. He had no weapons on him at this point, well, none that anyone could see. He was ready.
But the men of the Death Korps stared. They weren't going anywhere. The nearest one looked over at the nearest soldier, a mask of nothingness staring him down. It looked like anger, but no one could tell. The slits were darkened.
"Yeah, good luck with that, friend. But take me to your leader, please," Robbins said, walking forward. He had no weapons on him at this point, well, none that anyone could see. He was ready.
But the men of the Death Korps stared. They weren't going anywhere. The nearest one looked over at the nearest soldier, a mask of nothingness staring him down. It looked like anger, but no one could tell. The slits were darkened.
The solider nodded, "Follow me then, sir." The Terelain led Robbins into the pristine corridors of the ship. The architecture of the ship's interior matched it's exterior; soft round shapes, flowing curves and gentle lines with no sharp angles or sharp edges. The emphasis was clearly on sophistication and artistry tha simple functionality.
The other Terelain soldiers stared back at the Death Korps men impassively, the one left in charge said, "Look, orders are orders. I know I'd hate to give up my weapons if the situation were reversed, but let's avoid any unecessary bloodshed. Do as we ask and there's a fairly good chance you'll get your weapons back and be sent on your way back to your ship, or at least back to your own people. Resist and... well... most of us are Moralinri. We've been warriors since before your kind figured out a better way of killing each other than hitting each other with rocks."
The other guardsmen were wary-looking, but none of them were making any moe to sieze he Death Korps weapons just yet. As ever, violence was a last resort with the Terelains. But just because they were reluctant to fight didn't mean they didn't know how when the time came...
Robbins was taken near the rear of the ship to a large suite of rooms deep beneath the bridge tower, he was met in a spacious, luxuriously-appointed lounge area by the two Revered Elders aboard the ship. Nariel was staning looking out of one of a large window that took up most of one wall, whilst Nathaniel was sat near her in a chair.
"Captain Robbins. i'm glad you could join us." Nathaniel said, rising to his feet, "We were hoping that you could answer a few questions we have. We apologise about disarming your men, but we thought it to be the most pudent course of action consideringthe information that has cme to light from a transmission frm the Valhalla."
"We've heard them refer to your people as war-criminals on two ocassions, however they never went into details of your crimes, and for all we knew they might have been lying to get us on their side. however, just before they engaged the Bismarck the Valhalla claimed that you destroyed what was implied to be a civilian colony of theirs, merely as a form of psychological warfare. We wish to know if his is true." Nariel said, turning to face him.
The other Terelain soldiers stared back at the Death Korps men impassively, the one left in charge said, "Look, orders are orders. I know I'd hate to give up my weapons if the situation were reversed, but let's avoid any unecessary bloodshed. Do as we ask and there's a fairly good chance you'll get your weapons back and be sent on your way back to your ship, or at least back to your own people. Resist and... well... most of us are Moralinri. We've been warriors since before your kind figured out a better way of killing each other than hitting each other with rocks."
The other guardsmen were wary-looking, but none of them were making any moe to sieze he Death Korps weapons just yet. As ever, violence was a last resort with the Terelains. But just because they were reluctant to fight didn't mean they didn't know how when the time came...
Robbins was taken near the rear of the ship to a large suite of rooms deep beneath the bridge tower, he was met in a spacious, luxuriously-appointed lounge area by the two Revered Elders aboard the ship. Nariel was staning looking out of one of a large window that took up most of one wall, whilst Nathaniel was sat near her in a chair.
"Captain Robbins. i'm glad you could join us." Nathaniel said, rising to his feet, "We were hoping that you could answer a few questions we have. We apologise about disarming your men, but we thought it to be the most pudent course of action consideringthe information that has cme to light from a transmission frm the Valhalla."
"We've heard them refer to your people as war-criminals on two ocassions, however they never went into details of your crimes, and for all we knew they might have been lying to get us on their side. however, just before they engaged the Bismarck the Valhalla claimed that you destroyed what was implied to be a civilian colony of theirs, merely as a form of psychological warfare. We wish to know if his is true." Nariel said, turning to face him.
"If you like the ability to use your hands, don't touch our weapons. They stay where they are. Why? Because if Robbins dies, guess who else dies? Us. We're here to make sure that he lives. Moralinri? Soldier, you may have mastered warfare, but we have perfected it. Please do not try us. You won't enjoy it," The Lieutenant said through his mask. The voice was cold and growly, with a bit of annoyance in it. He didn't mean anything rude, oh hell no. Truthfully, he found these people interesting, and didn't want to start a war with them that might last longer than a mortal life. "By the way, you should know that as a sign of peace, we can play a game of cards,"
Jacob followed the men throughout the ship. True, it was a long walk. But he didn't mind. Along the way, he admired the architecture. It was designed like a true building of elegance, functionality, artistry, and sophistication. He loved how it looked, and he thought to himself, that these people were an amazing culture.
"Yes, I believe I heard you before. As you already know, I am Captain Jacob Robbins of the Death Korps, and a very highly regarded member of the SS. I'd be happy to answer any question you may have. I must warn you about my men, though. They were the ones who failed the last tests of becoming a Marine. In that way, they hold their weapons as another limb." Robbins said, and sighed, thinking about them. He did pass the test, and was the first human to complete Marine training without the genetic enhancements. "By the way, I love your ship. Absolutely beautiful. May I have your name?"
Jacob thought about the question. Yes, a lot of shit happened. But he didn't think of himself as a war criminal. Hell, he thought that all of his men, and all that they did during this, was perfectly legal. "My friend, we have heard that same thing over and over again. Let me put the rumors to rest, if I may. The facts are this: We had a ship stationed planetside, a Super Carrier known as the Yorktown. The Valhalla did destroy that ship. However, we did invade that planet. They denied us a treasured artifact that we needed. Unfortunately for us, it was destroyed by them.
"We decided that, as a last ditch effort, we would wipe that planet out. We had no further reinforcements in the area, the Yorktown was destroyed, and we had the Bismarck at hand. We fired one Nova Cannon shell and wiped it out. Consider that planet a military target.
"Now, as for war crimes, we currently own Mustard Gas shells. Unfortunately, we have to use them sometimes. Its inescapable. It happens. But we didn't use any,"
Jacob followed the men throughout the ship. True, it was a long walk. But he didn't mind. Along the way, he admired the architecture. It was designed like a true building of elegance, functionality, artistry, and sophistication. He loved how it looked, and he thought to himself, that these people were an amazing culture.
"Yes, I believe I heard you before. As you already know, I am Captain Jacob Robbins of the Death Korps, and a very highly regarded member of the SS. I'd be happy to answer any question you may have. I must warn you about my men, though. They were the ones who failed the last tests of becoming a Marine. In that way, they hold their weapons as another limb." Robbins said, and sighed, thinking about them. He did pass the test, and was the first human to complete Marine training without the genetic enhancements. "By the way, I love your ship. Absolutely beautiful. May I have your name?"
Jacob thought about the question. Yes, a lot of shit happened. But he didn't think of himself as a war criminal. Hell, he thought that all of his men, and all that they did during this, was perfectly legal. "My friend, we have heard that same thing over and over again. Let me put the rumors to rest, if I may. The facts are this: We had a ship stationed planetside, a Super Carrier known as the Yorktown. The Valhalla did destroy that ship. However, we did invade that planet. They denied us a treasured artifact that we needed. Unfortunately for us, it was destroyed by them.
"We decided that, as a last ditch effort, we would wipe that planet out. We had no further reinforcements in the area, the Yorktown was destroyed, and we had the Bismarck at hand. We fired one Nova Cannon shell and wiped it out. Consider that planet a military target.
"Now, as for war crimes, we currently own Mustard Gas shells. Unfortunately, we have to use them sometimes. Its inescapable. It happens. But we didn't use any,"
The soldier's eyes hardened, "I see... hopefully it won't come to anything... unpleasant. Excuse me a moment." He moved away from the Death Korps men and activated the comm unit he had with him, "Bridge, this is Guard Unit C-13, the HRA men refuse to give up their weapons, and things will get ugly if we try and take them by force. I'd rather we let them keep them and just keep a watch onthem... I don't think we want a fire-fight if we can avoid it."
"Acknowledged, corporal.... your orders are revised. Keep watch on the HRA soldiers, open fire on them if they make any move to threaten the ship but do not in any way provoke an attack. Understood?" Came the reply.
"I understand. We'll keep it civil, as long as we can anyway." He deactivated the comm unit and returned to the Death Kops men, "You can keep your weapons,so long as you don't try and shoot us. Let's go play cards... I hope you guys aren't sore losers."
Meanwhile, Nariel was smiling at Robbins, "Thank you. My House commissioned the original Hand of Terel twelve thousand years ago to serve as my personal transport. The design hasn't needed to be changed much over the years, just a few upgrades to defenses and engines and computers and other such things. My people tend to build thingswith an emphasis on durability and long service. As for my name... well, I'll give you the short version. Terelain LongNames act as a sort of mini-biography and a way to identify social standing. When you live as long as I have they tend to get very long indeed, and we don't have all day." She laughed, "I am Nariel Amaar-Tynian, eldest daughter of Duke Arifel Amaar of Amra, and an Elder of the Aunidiel Lineage."
"I am her husband, Nathaniel Tynian, second son of King Erisad the Wise, the last King of the Second Kingdom. I'm an Elder of the Taemiri and I was the frst king of the Third Kingdom, many long centuries ago." Her husband said, "As for your war-crimes... well my people are far from innocent in such things. In fact the AI aboard this ship was formerely housed aboard the old flagship fo the fleet, and she took part in the orbital bombardment that caused the extinction of the species we were last at war with."
"The last truly major war, anyway. You don't see too many conflicts lasting over seven centuries any more, or conflicts were the combatants are the only known spacefaring species of the time." Nariel said, "As for the present matter... hm... it seems as if you were provoked into attacking the colony, but was it entirely necessary to destroy it, civilian population included? Perhaps you should have withdrawn from the area."
"Acknowledged, corporal.... your orders are revised. Keep watch on the HRA soldiers, open fire on them if they make any move to threaten the ship but do not in any way provoke an attack. Understood?" Came the reply.
"I understand. We'll keep it civil, as long as we can anyway." He deactivated the comm unit and returned to the Death Kops men, "You can keep your weapons,so long as you don't try and shoot us. Let's go play cards... I hope you guys aren't sore losers."
Meanwhile, Nariel was smiling at Robbins, "Thank you. My House commissioned the original Hand of Terel twelve thousand years ago to serve as my personal transport. The design hasn't needed to be changed much over the years, just a few upgrades to defenses and engines and computers and other such things. My people tend to build thingswith an emphasis on durability and long service. As for my name... well, I'll give you the short version. Terelain LongNames act as a sort of mini-biography and a way to identify social standing. When you live as long as I have they tend to get very long indeed, and we don't have all day." She laughed, "I am Nariel Amaar-Tynian, eldest daughter of Duke Arifel Amaar of Amra, and an Elder of the Aunidiel Lineage."
"I am her husband, Nathaniel Tynian, second son of King Erisad the Wise, the last King of the Second Kingdom. I'm an Elder of the Taemiri and I was the frst king of the Third Kingdom, many long centuries ago." Her husband said, "As for your war-crimes... well my people are far from innocent in such things. In fact the AI aboard this ship was formerely housed aboard the old flagship fo the fleet, and she took part in the orbital bombardment that caused the extinction of the species we were last at war with."
"The last truly major war, anyway. You don't see too many conflicts lasting over seven centuries any more, or conflicts were the combatants are the only known spacefaring species of the time." Nariel said, "As for the present matter... hm... it seems as if you were provoked into attacking the colony, but was it entirely necessary to destroy it, civilian population included? Perhaps you should have withdrawn from the area."
"Sore losers? My friends, we have lost battles before. Rather large sieges on our planets. However, we never pout. After all, everyone looses sometime. What do you want to play? Five card draw? Texas hold 'em? How about my favorite, Fizzbin?" The Lieutenant asked, and sat down on the floor, getting his cards out. They were Robbins's cards, old Grateful Dead cards, so he wanted them carefully preserved.
Robbins enjoyed talking to this person. He knew exactly what they were talking about. Back home, he had such a long title, it was crazy. He never remembered all of it. It was something about the SS and what he did, but other than that, and a few others, it was as alien to him as these people.
"I understand completely. Back home, I have a rather long, and annoying title. All I can remember is Captain of the Death Korps Jacob Robbins, defender of the 3rd Fleet, Master of something or some other, Colonel of the SS. I forget the rest, really.
"As to answer your question, the situation provided us with the opportunity. One, for show. Two, to prove that we don't mess around with what we do. And third, we needed to wipe out that planet to move our fleet closer. The civilian population was, unfortunately, unavoidable. We don't like taking civvies,"
Robbins enjoyed talking to this person. He knew exactly what they were talking about. Back home, he had such a long title, it was crazy. He never remembered all of it. It was something about the SS and what he did, but other than that, and a few others, it was as alien to him as these people.
"I understand completely. Back home, I have a rather long, and annoying title. All I can remember is Captain of the Death Korps Jacob Robbins, defender of the 3rd Fleet, Master of something or some other, Colonel of the SS. I forget the rest, really.
"As to answer your question, the situation provided us with the opportunity. One, for show. Two, to prove that we don't mess around with what we do. And third, we needed to wipe out that planet to move our fleet closer. The civilian population was, unfortunately, unavoidable. We don't like taking civvies,"
"I don't know those games. As you might guess, we aren't exactly from this region of space... how about you teach us to play?" The soldier asked, gesturing for a few of his men to join him in the game, "We have our own card games, but they might be difficlt for you to play."
"it seems that your bombardment of the planet backfired. All you seem to have done is piss off the nation you've been fighting. Unfortunately I don't think they'll let the deaths of their civilians go. Especially since from their point of view you are both the agressors and the ones who escalated the conflict. I want to maintain strict neutrality for my people... we don't like war. War leaves scars that fade very slowly. It took my people three thousand years to recover from the First Great War and another twelve to recover from the Second, even now I have nightmares about what I suffered during the First Great War, and the War of the Exile Returned three centuries later, and those conflicts has been over for twenty three thousand years."
"We may have to hand ou over to the Coalition... we do seem to be in their territory at the moment.. but on the other hand, we cetanly don't want to gain the enmity of your own people... we can't show favour t either side." Nathaniel said, sighing, "I suppose we could just ask you to leave, but we're still treating the wounded from the Bismarck, and I'm not about to turn them away from getting treatment."
"it seems that your bombardment of the planet backfired. All you seem to have done is piss off the nation you've been fighting. Unfortunately I don't think they'll let the deaths of their civilians go. Especially since from their point of view you are both the agressors and the ones who escalated the conflict. I want to maintain strict neutrality for my people... we don't like war. War leaves scars that fade very slowly. It took my people three thousand years to recover from the First Great War and another twelve to recover from the Second, even now I have nightmares about what I suffered during the First Great War, and the War of the Exile Returned three centuries later, and those conflicts has been over for twenty three thousand years."
"We may have to hand ou over to the Coalition... we do seem to be in their territory at the moment.. but on the other hand, we cetanly don't want to gain the enmity of your own people... we can't show favour t either side." Nathaniel said, sighing, "I suppose we could just ask you to leave, but we're still treating the wounded from the Bismarck, and I'm not about to turn them away from getting treatment."
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