54 replies to this topic

[Listless Nomad]

March 15th 2581 1050 hrs
Nadir Jump point of Star X541C
Admiral’s Quarters - SLS Basel


Admiral Coontz sighed heavily as Commodore Striker closed the door behind himself in disgust. As Coontz listened to the the departing footsteps of the Commordore down the passageway, he lowered himself into one of his plush armchairs and sipped a scotch. The orders he received were scattered over the operations table nearby, along with survey maps of a small rocky planetoid within the Prospector’s Paradise system. The map had several areas circled in bright red. Coontz thought back to the conversation he’d had over the past hour, and could understand Striker’s frustrations. Neither man particularly liked what they were being forced to do, but no man wanted to turn his carrier into a baby sitter.

For what seemed like the thousandth time that day, Coontz let his gaze drift to the view outside his window, wondering what next week would bring.

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March 15^th 2581 1417 hrs
Nadir Jump point of Star X541C
10,000m below SLS Basel
Bridge of the SLS Prometheus

Alarm klaxons wailed.

“Multiple jump points forming, close aboard!”

Captain Kafarov nodded his head as Lt. Berryman called out the signals, watching in the holotank as the computer identified where unknown ships would soon warp into existence.

“Firecontrol, you have the con. Bring us about to prepare to engage targets.”

The firecontrol officer nodded nervously and stood a little straighter as he began issuing orders.

“Uh..helm. Bring us to heading 045, Z up 25.”

Kafarov smiled again as the helmswoman seamlessly obeyed the command, and began bringing the massive ship around to bring its main batteries on line. Kafarov turned to the firecontrol officer.

“Firecontrol, do we have a shooting solution?”

“Aye Captain, Main guns all tracking.”

“Very well.”

Turning back to the holotank, Kafarov watched as almost simultaneously, five ships burst into existence.

“IFF Codes confirmed, their ours captain.”

Kafarov smiled at the collective sigh of relief let out by the bridge crew. All of them were itching for a fight, but no one liked to be surprised, least of all when they were so vulnerable here.

“Firecontrol, I have the con. You may stand down. Helm, return us to our stationkeeping position if you please.”

Hmm…I wonder what this all means.

Twenty minutes later, Kafarov was in his cabin, reading over the flash communiqué that had just come from the Basel.

<SNT SLS BASEL; REC SLS PROMETHEUS>
<ID: ADM COONTZ>
<AUTHENTICATION 55KZ127>
<FOR YOUR EYES ONLY>

Attn. Capt. Kafarov

Below you will find outlined our augmented mission. I have sent this communication to all captains in the fleet. By now you will have seen the new arrivals, ready your ships for departure.

TF21 “Void Stompers” are to join 13^th Flt in operations in Prospector’s Paradise system. Intel has confirmed suspected Taurian base on 2^nd planetoid from system Primary. TF21 will engage in overwhelming ground assault on planetoid will all possible speed. 13^th Flt is to provide cover and escort. Primary directive remains to engage and destroy any Taurian Naval assets. Command believes tasks are not mutually exclusive.

TF21 Composition:
Naval
SLS Gentry - Robinson
SLS Woodbine - Robinson
SLS Niettzsche - Robinson
SLS Natasha - Nightwing
SLS Boris – Tracker

Ground
509^th Battle Regiment
568^th Grunt Infantry Regiment

<MESSAGE TERMINATED>

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March 21st 2581 2100 hrs
Nadir Jump point of Star X541C
Quarters of Admiral Coontz

The night before the jump.

“Gentlemen and Ladies, thank you for coming.”

Admiral Coontz stood rigidly infront of the assembled Captains of the 13th Fleet and Task Force 21. His hands were clasped behind his back, and his face was bathed in the glow from the projected hologram of the Prospector's Paradise system hovering in the air before them. His face was grave.

"Before you is the Prospector's Paradise System, of the Taurian Concordat."


"Intelligence has confirmed that the second planet of the system, labeled Yukon before you, is concealing a significant ammunition depot for the Concordat, as well as substantial orbital refitting stations." A golden label for the planet appeared below As many of you know. Originally, this Fleet was given the purpose of invading the system, and conducting a search and destroy mission for any Concordat vessels, especially those of the 3rd Fleet. This new intel has changed that plan slightly. Accordingly High Command has assigned Task Force 21 to my command, and they are charged with destroying and dismantling the ground based installations on Yukon. "

The assembled officers stared intently at the holographic map as it zoomed in on the system primary, and two glowing SLDF icons appeared.

"Intel has long suspected that this system has been the staging area for the Taurian 3rd Fleet, and HUMINT sources within the Taurian Navy has confirmed this. I needn't remind you all what the 3rd Fleet is capable of. As a result, utmost surprise is critical in this attack. Unfortunately, this has negated our ability to send small scout or surveillance ships into the system. Prospector's Paradise is not a widely used system, nor is it along normal trade routes. Any vessels not of the Taurian Navy would likely be captured or destroyed. As a result, we will be jumping into the system blind."

A audible murmuring and shuffling arose from the assembled group at the mention of jumping blind. No captain liked to jump into a unknown system blind, least of all one that was likely patrolled by the feared 3rd Fleet. The Admiral raised his hand to quiet the murmuring.

"I know none of you are particular fans of blind jumps, but I've composed a plan that hopefully will prove advantageous. It is possible that the Taurians know we are coming. If they do, they will likely mass their forces against us, and strike hard once we are jumping in, trying to cripple us before we have a chance to retaliate. Standard stuff. As a result, normally we would jump all at once, in a close order battle formation, to provide maximum protection. This we will not do."

On the holographic screen in front of them, two new golden labels appeared, one below each of the SLDF Icons.



"Our force will divide in two, TF21, and the 13th Fleet." The captains from TF21 began to protest. They didn't particularly like being split from the heavy guns of the main fleet. The Admiral raised his hand once more for quiet. "TF21 will be reinforced with one of our Avatars, the Reliant, as well as two of the Baron Class destroyers, The Dixie and the Savannah. TF21 and escorts will burn for Yukon, hopefully making planetfall and wiping out the Taurians. In the event that the Taurians are indeed lying in wait, they will undoubtedly move to meet TF21, and engage them. That is where we come in. TF21 will jump into Prospector's Paradise's Zenith jump point, while the remainder of the fleet will jump into the Nadir jump point."

Commodore Striker piped up at this, standing to point at the holographic image.

"Admiral, would it not be better for TF21 to jump at a pirate point, allowing them an element of surprise, and getting them closer to Yukon?"

Coontz nodded thoughtfully before continuing. "You are correct Commodore, and that is indeed something I had considered. However, the pirate points of that system are highly transitory, and not well documented. With the valuable troops and ships in TF21, I will not risk a misjump for the sake of a few hours burn time. Regardless, a jump into the Zenith point will provide additional time to draw out the Taurians for the 13th. Lastly, splitting the fleet will provide two worthwhile targets for the Taurians, and will force them to divide their forces, lest they be surrounded."

The Admiral seemed finished speaking, which prompted the commander of the Natasha to speak up.

"What of the scout ships sir?"

The Admiral smiled and turned back towards the holo image.

"You and the Boris are to jump with TF21 and act as picket ships for the Task Force. You are to ride point and use your enhanced sensor arrays to attempt to get a handle on the location of the Taurian fleet. Once battle is joined, you are to fall back to the rear and avoid combat. If the situation becomes dire, I leave the choice to fight or flee in your hands. You will not be punished for your decision. That is all. Dismissed."

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March 22^th 2581 0600 hrs
Nadir Jump point of Star X541C
10,000m below SLS Basel
Bridge of the SLS Prometheus

Captain Kafarov stood at attention in front of his command chair, as did the rest of the bridge crew. Every one of them was tense and ready. They’d waited a long time for this moment, and had trained nonstop to prepare for it. It had been a week since the new arrivals, and with everyone’s jump drives charged, the fleet was finally ready to depart. Moments ago, the last ASF had docked, leaving only the Admiral’s address to the fleet. All eyes expectantly turned to the bridge speaker as the Admiral’s distinctive voice crackled through.

“Officers and Sailors of the 13^th Fleet. Today is the day that we strike back at those who have wounded our brothers and sisters. Today is the day that we end the threat to our comrades in arms. Today is the day that we bring peace back to the Galaxy! You have all trained incredibly hard for this moment, and I am proud to serve with you in this fleet. We will be going into battle in a few short moments, and know that I expect all of you to do your duty. It wi-“

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March 22^th 2581 0600 hrs
Nadir Jump point of Star X541C
10,000m below SLS Basel
Tommy Wattkins’ and Marcy Perkins’ Battlestation – SLS Prometheus

The tinny voice rattled through the speaker as Yeomen Wattkins and Perkins sat strapped into their chairs, in anticipation of the coming jump.

“-ll not be an easy task, but it is one we must accomplish. I have absolute faith in all of you. Good luck, and God speed. Admiral Coontz, out.

Immediately after the Admiral signed off, the Jump Klaxons began to wail. Tommy and Marcy looked at one another and smiled. Finally they were going into action.

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March 22^th 2581 0600 hrs
Nadir Jump point of Star X541C
Bridge of the SLS Basel

Admiral Coontz turned from the microphone to observe the bridge crew of the Basel holding perfect salutes. He crisply returned it before turning to Commodore Striker next to him.

“Commodore, prepare to jump.”

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March 22nd 2581 0630 hrs
Location REDACTED
Bridge of the TCV REDACTED

The Signals Officer handed the new communique to his Captain. He read it quickly and then began barking orders to his men. The bridge quickly became a beehive of activity, as men and women scrambled to their stations. The captain felt a rumble roll through the ship as the main drive engines came online. It was time.

<LOCATION CLASSIFIED>
<COMMUNICATION CODE X RAY>
<AUTHENTICATION BL456YYD>

Attn. Cmdr Taurian 3rd Fleet

Code OMEGA. Proceed to waypoint and execute your orders.

For the Concordat.

HC-FLTCOM Out.

<MESSAGE TERMINATED>

Edited by Listless Nomad, 15 September 2012 - 09:46 AM.

[Oni Storm]

March 22th 2581 0609 hrs
Nadir Jump point of Star X541C
Bridge of the SLS Basel

Admiral Coontz turned from the microphone to observe the bridge crew of the Basel holding perfect salutes. He crisply returned it before turning to Commodore Striker next to him.

“Commodore, prepare to jump.”


Commodore Striker held a steely gaze with the Admiral for a scant few seconds, both men confirming with each other that this was a mistake with their eyes, with a heavy sigh he turned back to the crew. "You heard the man. Make sure the pilots are locked in and docking collars are set. Weapons teams to their posts. We launch full spread upon arrival. Prepare for jump on my mark." He looked out the windows to watch as each ship in formation jumped out. He knew it was easier to watch the holotanks or even the numerous vid screens relaying telemetry, speed, and all kinds of other various data, but to him it just wasn't "real". These men and women were putting their lives on the line and many wouldn't be making back, they deserved the rights of a witness not the shameful nameless numbers of cold data. He waited and the void became clearer, he looked at the holotank for the first time and as the last ship winked out. "Light ere up, we're out of here."

Edited by Oni Storm, 15 September 2012 - 02:45 PM.

[Thom Frankfurt]

Nadir Jump point of Star X541C
Vulture class dropship, Blue Buzzard
March 22th 2581 0602 hrs

Gong!

The warning gong reverbrated throughout the ship, almost more felt than heard. At it's tone ships crewmen grabbed ahold of rungs welded into the bulkhead. Some secured themselves by folding out 'jumpseats' that were mounted into the antiquated ship. Raymond blew off the gong and the captains announcment of the impending jump while grabbing one of the rungs with a knuckle whitening grip. Jumps always made Raymond nervous. There was something unnatral about how everything seemed to tunnel, then stretch, and get pounded flat in some wierd way like a bad acid trip.

Raymond looked out the port as his last glances at Star X541C, and thought about the past weeks trainging. Zero G operations, focusing on close quarters combat, with pride he could say that his squad was ready for whatever the Tauran's dared to throw their way. But that thought had to be taken with a grain of salt. CQC was nasty and brutal, and even being fully prepared for it, there would be casulties, he knew. But, he just wondered who.

[Oni Storm]

March 22th 2581 0605 hrs
Nadir Jump point of Star X541C
Crew Quarters Deck 3, room C-341, of the SLS Basel

Sergeant Angel Li and Private Ken Sykes were going at it hot and heavy, trying to keep a pace and rhythm so they could hit their big climax in mid-jump. Angel had assured him there wasn't anything like it in this world. The feeling was one of pure ecstasy, mixed with satisfaction and all balled up into a cosmic being of knowing where you truly belonged for those brief seconds. The after effect is what she really pushed, that had him agreeing to this liaison just scant minutes before they were to possibly be in the thick of combat. She told him it enhanced your senses like no combat drug or underground pharmaceutical could. The whole next few hours she said, "it would be like everyone and everything were moving in slow motion around you." He was really looking forward to this edge and besides even if it didn't work he could always brag about bagging the Lieutenant's daughter. He held his hands on her hips at this thought and dug his nails in slightly as he sent another pulsating wave of thrust out amongst them.

Edited by Oni Storm, 13 September 2012 - 08:53 PM.

[guardian wolf]

March 22th 2581 0605 hrs
Nadir Jump point of Star X541C
Hangar, inside Battle Taxi Holy Sh*t, SLS Basel

The boys had their gear all stowed away, and were in their bunks, just waiting for it to happen. All of them had their gear on, and were ready to go at a moment's notice. Soon, John thought, soon they would be unto the breach again, and who knows if they made back this time or not. Do or die, that was the motto of this unit, time to show that we aren't all talk. So John waited.

Edited by guardian wolf, 14 September 2012 - 06:29 AM.

[Listless Nomad]

March 22th 2581 0610 hrs
Nadir Jump point of Star X541C
Bridge of the SLS Reliant, Avatar Class Warship
50,000m to the right of the SLS Basel

Captain Bainbridge looked over at her navigation officer and nodded curtly. A slight beading of sweat was breaking out on her brow.

"Solution plotted Lt. Jacobs?"

The navigation officer turned slightly in his chair before answering.

"Aye Captain. Solution to the Zenith Jump Point of the Prospector's Paradise system plotted and locked."

Bainbridge nodded again.

"Is the rest of the task force clear?"

"Aye Captain, all TF21 vessels are clear and at their jump positions. We'll be clear all the way through. Also, Engineering reports the KF drive is fully charged and primed. We're ready to jump on your command."

From across the bridge, the communications officer called out.

"All TF21 and Fleet ships are reporting green for jump. We're ready Captain."

Bainbridge turned to her XO and sat down in her command chair, casually buckling her restraints.

"Sound battlestations and sound final jump warning."

With a press of a few buttons, the battlestations klaxon blared for a few seconds, followed by the final gong of the jump alarm. Looking straight ahead out of the bridge window, the Captain closed her eyes.

"Jump."

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March 22th 2581 0610 hrs
Nadir Jump point of Star X541C
Bridge of the SLS Basel

Admiral Coontz watched wearily as in the distance, the hovering shapes of TF21 blinked out of existence as they made their jump. In a few seconds, the rest of the Fleet would jump as well. A moment later, Coontz felt the familiar squeezing feeling that accompanied a jump between star systems.

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March 22th 2581 0611 hrs
Zenith Jump point of Prospector's Paradise
Bridge of the TCV Mist Runner

"Captain! Jump Signatures forming!"

The sensors officer leaned back in his chair to allow the captain to lean over and observe the screen. "Signals match four capital ships and multiple smaller escorts."

Once the computer had tallied the ship classes, the captain turned to his navigation officer.

"Is our jump plotted?"

The young lieutenant turned and addressed his captain.

"Coordinates plotted Captain."

"Helm, get us out of here."

In the black void of space, the long cylindrical shape of the Invader Class jumpship hung motionless, serene in appearance. The picket ship gave no indication it was about to jump 30 lightyears to a far distant sun. In a flash, the Taurian ship winked out of existence, replaced several seconds later by eight new forms, gleaming in the light given off by the sun.


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March 22th 2581 0612 hrs
Nadir Jump point of Prospector's Paradise
Bridge of the SLS Prometheus

"Sensors, REPORT!"

Kafarov never liked jumping, even as a career naval man. He never got over the peculiar feeling that accompanied being warped through time and space. He also hated flying blind. Shakily, the sensor officer answered back, clearly trying to overcome his own wooziness.

"Sensors are clear Captain. We have confirmed signatures from the rest of the fleet and from TF21 at the zenith, but no other contacts. It's like the system is abandoned."

Kafarov could hear the barely suppressed relief in the voice of the officer, and scowled.

"Hardly Lieutenant. Keeping looking."

They are out there...somewhere.


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March 22th 2581 0612 hrs
Asteroid 55BXJ
Listening Post Gamma Seven

One by one, the emergence signatures on screen continued to appear. The young radar operator's eyes grew wider as the designations and weight class of each ship was displayed by the computer, until finally he called another operator over to have a look. Without a word, the other operator started running down the hall towards the command area.

"Lieutenant!"

Edited by Listless Nomad, 15 September 2012 - 01:09 PM.

[Oni Storm]

March 22th 2581 0610 hrs
Nadir Jump point of Star X541C
Bridge of the SLS Basel

It had taken nearly 6 minutes total, including time for the SLS Bush to reestablish it's coordinates after a failed jump from the first try. Admiral Coontz watched wearily as in the distance, the hovering shapes of TF21 blinked out of existence as they made their jump. In a few seconds the words came, "Light ere up, we're out of here." A moment later, Coontz felt the familiar squeezing feeling that accompanied a jump between star systems.



March 22th 2581 0612 hrs
Nadir Jump point of Prospector's Paradise

As the Basel appeared with the rest of the fleet proximity klaxons blared, as apparently one of the smaller destroyers was out of it's assigned position. "Yeoman hard left and down twenty four degrees" Commodore Striker yelled as he still stood in place anchored from the jump "Alex launch fighters" Comm Officer Lt. Alexandra Mineiro's eyes widened, "but captain we're too close to the Mulan" Striker's voice filled with that of a terrible demon barely held at bay "LAUNCH those fighters NOW! Adolf is on that side he'll take care of it." With shaking and fearful hands Alex pressed the launch button and prayed. "and Alex. Get me that navigator's name. I want his head for this." the commodore's voice came softer and more sweetly now.

The launch bays flickered past and as Adolf's Eagle catapulted past and out into the emptiness of space, he noticed it wasn't quite so empty. "Oh h@ll!!! Grab sky! I repeat all units grab sky NOW!!" the six pilots all pulled back as hard as they could on their sticks executing a perfect accelerated climb and bringing them scant meters from the possible collision with the SLS Mulan, well all except in fighter 6 which just barely survived scrapping the paint from his wing as he clipped a relay antenna off the Mulan. "Holy **** I'm hit!! I'm hit.. Oh man, not like this.. Please God not like this.." Lieutenant Striker cut the man off "Cutter you big baby.. You're alright, just a few scant sparks on collision was all.. You're fine you big baby. Now form up." Warrent Officer Cornell "Cutter" Smith calmed down hearing his commander's voice and breathing in the rich oxygen mixture. "Roger commander forming up. On your left boss.. and Anarch.. Thanks." Adolf smiled; "Cut the chatter we got Cap duty, out"

The Basel continued her rapid decent and back aboard Commodore Striker breathed a huge sigh of relief as the voice of his son came through to calm the situation. He released his clinched fist and turned from the right window. "Right level her out yeoman, and get the next flight in the air." He turned to eye a stark almond skinned woman easily a foot shorter than him " Lieutenant Li, Launch the Escorts and prepare to release the guards." With that young miss Alex silken voice came across the ships intercom "Guards at the ready.. 5..4..3..2..Release" The 2 egg shaped vessels lurched forwards and out as the plumes of the compressed air shot them silently from their docking collars and into orbit beside the massive carrier. Their maneuvering thrusters carrying them into synchronized orbit at some 50 meters both above and below her. The 3rd and 4th launch bays opened as the two jockeyed for position and poured out six escort each into close proximity of their host and the two guardian sentinels. The Escorts moved as one and slowly but methodically set themselves gently upon the Basel's hull, their magnetic clamps holding onto her tight embrace. Six each both above and below. The Captains of the guardian vessels looked out once more as impressed as always, feeling a little ashamed of such tactics, but they'd worked in the past for the Commodore and woe be to any flight that got too close to his beloved crews home.

Edited by Oni Storm, 15 September 2012 - 03:20 PM.

[RogueSpear]

March 22nd 2581 0610 hours,
Location: Deep space, 1 light year from the Heliopause of the Prospector's Paradise System.
Bridge of the TCV Butterfly

"Commodore, jump point forming...it's the TCV Mist Runner." Lieutenant Marks called out from the sensor station.
Burroughs was on his feet before Marks had finished calling the ID. "Must be our relay, get me -"
"Got them sir!" Broke in Signals Officer Delaney as he ran forward with a mic and headset.
Snatching it from him with a nod, Commodore Malcolm Burroughs quickly donned the set and held up the mic.
"Butterfly to Mist Runner, report."
"Large fleet arriving in two groups, 22 points opening at the Nadir point, 8 at the Zenith. We jumped as soon as we got the count, so cannot confirm sizes. We needed to leave immediately to avoid detection - but there were some very large ships coming through the Nadir point. Units at the Zenith were smaller, but still bigger than your pintos."
"Understood. Where's Third Fleet?"
"In cover behind the gas giant in system. We had a quick blurt they're engaging the larger fleet. What you engage is up to you. Either wait for just shy of two hours for them to close, or jump on top of the smaller force as soon as you see fit."
"Burrough leaned against the brass bar before his command chair, looking out over his bridge, with it's various tactical monitors and displays, out the bridge window. Several screens marked the new jump signatures. Gently, he unhooked the headset and mic, motioning Delaney to open fleet communications. "Thank you, Mist Runner. The enemy is here, ladies and gentlemen. Call battlestations. One way or another, we're going to be in it soon. We have two groups of enemy units, 22 heavy and escort signatures at the Nadir point, and 8 mixed at the Zenith point. Night Caller, form four AU to my port side, let's discuss our options."

Edited by RogueSpear, 16 September 2012 - 12:51 PM.

[guardian wolf]

March 22th 2581 0610 hrs
Nadir Jump point of Star X541C
Hangar of the SLS Basel

John and his marines got out to help however they could the launching of the fighters, which went smooth as ever inside the bay. Immediately his marines got together into their squads, and put helmets on, leaving only to seal their suits for NANG operations. John's marines began to stretch to loosen their muscles, more to wait for the call to get in the "taxis" and head for the enemy ships, then to stretch themselves out.

Edited by guardian wolf, 16 September 2012 - 02:59 PM.

[Sparks Murphey]

March 22th 2581 0612 hrs
Nadir Jump point of Prospector's Paradise
SLS Voidwalker

The launch catapult hissed, then flung twenty tons out into the blackness to join its fellows. At the controls, Octovina “Cookie” Tagmaç felt her heart flutter as she relished the coming fight. As she turned the small fighter to join up with the rest of the 888th “Snowmen”, she did a quick visual sweep through the sky. Beyond the bulk of the Riga-class Voidwalker, numerous other ships of the 13th Fleet hung nearly stationary, many of them likewise disgorging fighters.

“Snowmen Squadron, from Lead. Let’s get a 2 kay clockwise orbit set-up around the Voidwalker’s yaw. Barrels, your flight will start from ten o’clock, Cookie, you’ll start at six. My flight will start from two.”

“Roger, Lead,” Tagmaç called, and broke off to head aft of the Voidwalker, her flightmate, Ysmael “Dustwasp” Lutz falling in behind her. Moments later, Griff “Barrels” Cooper confirmed as well, leading his own two-craft flight off the port bow of the Voidwalker.

[Oni Storm]

March 22th 2581 0612 hrs
Nadir Jump points of Star X541C and Prospector's Paradise
Crew Quarters Deck 3, room C-341, of the SLS Basel

Private Ken Sykes, thrust out and up once more before the motionlessness and uneasy feelings overcame him as they transcended through time and. The ravishing almond skinned goddess with short raven hair atop him seemed aglow and caught in an expression of both ecstasy and pain. The scene of her there burning in his memory down to the core, as if he had sat in a gallery for Eons admiring a statue down to every angle, shadow, indention, line, or molecule. (This must be the bliss she was talking about.) He thought as the world started flowing and filling in again around him. Sergeant Angel Li screamed and came, riding back down him, gagging then lurching forward, throwing up all across his face and chest, in a slow motion reel that would last a life time.

[Listless Nomad]

March 22th 2581 0625hrs
Nadir Jump point of Prospector's Paradise
Bridge of the SLS Prometheus
50km abeam of the Basel

"Conn, Sensors! Multiple contacts bearing 195. They are a long ways off captain…readings are pretty shaky."

Captain Kafarov snapped his head around and headed toward the holotank. The sensor officer was already at work calling up the contacts on the display. One by one, jittery red triangles appeared from behind the large gas giant. Kafarov scowled deeply and clenched his fists. These were the targets they were looking for, but they were coming from the wrong direction. With a few manipulations of the holo display, anticipated trajectory lines began to grow from each unknown signature. Each one was projected on an intercept course for the 13th Fleet.

"Navigation, time to intercept?"

The navigator entered a few commands into the computer before replying.

"At present bearing and speed, the unknown contacts would be at maximum range of our guns within eight hours, if we turn to meet them Captain. We can lengthen their time to intercept by 26 hours if we accelerate to two gees and head towards Yukon."

Kafarov frowned and shook his head. "No Lieutenant. Our primary mission is to knock out the 3rd. Begin plotting a direct intercept course. Communications, prepare a flash message to the Basel. The Admiral should be made aware of what we have. Firecontrol, I want shooting solutions as soon as we have solid locks. Is that understood?"

A chorus of "Aye Sir's" greeted him in reply.

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March 22th 2581 0627hrs
Nadir Jump point of Prospector's Paradise
Communications Room A - SLS Basel

"Confirmed Prometheus. We have them on our scopes as well. Admiral Coontz has ordered the contacts be approached and identified. The fleet will come about to new heading 195 in two minutes. Basel out."

Yeoman Miranda fired the data burst toward the Prometheus before turning her attention to the Reliant.

"Reliant this is the Basel. Multiple contacts approaching from astern. Sensor bearings indicate intentions are likely hostile. Admiral Coontz has ordered the escorts to intercept. TF21 and escorts ordered continue with mission, and to pacify Yukon. Good hunting."

Miranda turned in her chair after finishing the last message to turn to her Lieutenant. Beads of sweat were breaking out on his brow. Her eyes sparkled with adventure, but the Lieutenant just sadly shook his head at her and turned away.

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March 22th 2581 0629hrs
Nadir Jump point of Prospector's Paradise
Bridge of the SLS Prometheus
50km abeam of the Basel

Strapped into his command chair, Kafarov could feel the deck plating shift beneath his feet, and the gentle vibrations rising through his command chair as the main drive engines burned to life. The view outside the command window began to shift as the mighty vessel began to inexorably turn. The Fleet was coming about.

Edited by Listless Nomad, 18 September 2012 - 08:48 PM.

[ChaosGrinder]

Slowly the Eidolon closed the gap between them and the rest of the fleet.

" All decks, be ready for enemy contact. Marines, man up, i need all awailable fighter pilots ready in 3 minutes! Lee, Barrow, Reynolds, Jackson to the bridge. " commanded Meredith and stretched. She examined the fleet through the huge windows fo the bridge.

While she awaited the rest of her staff, she opened a comm channel to the rest of the fleet. " This is SLS Eidolon, forst off i appologize for being late. I hope we´ve missed no fun. Anyway, i am ready for orders."

Meanwhile her staff had gathered around a large screen showing a map of the system, fleet positions and a lot of other data.

Robert Lee, a man in his late sixties, gray hair and gray beard, he was her mentor when it came to tactical analysis and large scale warfare. He was a wise man, allways calm and she never had seen him loud or in haste.

Clyde Barrow, the arsenal officer. A man in his late thirties, three-day beard and never without a coffee, he was the man for the guns. That was basically the only thing he really could do, for other things bored him and when he was bored, he started to do stupid things.

Bruce Reynolds, a tall, slim man, aged 54, monosyllabic and a brilliand mind. If he could not fix it noone could do so.

" Gentlemen, this is our field for today. Gotta see what we have to face, but i need your work. Barrow, get the rest of our lasers calibrated, Reynols you look after the defunctioning fuel pump. I need the left thruster back online as soon as you can do it. Launch two squadrons fo fighters and get me intel. Ready a suqad of scouts, send them out on my command." With a brief look around she added a " dismissed, gentlemen" and waved Lee over to her.

"So Robert, ... what do you think ? "

" About what ? This mission ? "

"Yes. I have no good feelings about this. Too easy. Maybe this is just a trap. "

" We can only guess, what ? But i tell you, this is no trap, this is going to be a hard fight. Who knows ? Maybe this is evolving to Iow Jima ? Trenchwar ? We are fighting about a tiny spot of rock in a hunge sea of emptieness, from my point of view this is ... "

"Pointless. I agree, but ... this is war and as stupid as it is, we have to follow orders. "

" There is a time to follow orders and a time to follow your own will. Who knows what awaits us tomorrow ? "

" Wise words Robert, wise words", Meredith said examining the screen infront of them. Maybe there where brighter days ahead, but she could only guess.

[Oni Storm]

March 22th 2581 0627hrs
Nadir Jump point of Prospector's Paradise
Bridge - SLS Basel

Commodore Striker was pacing like a man possessed as he continued to watch the groups forming up and the ships changing direction to plot intercepts on the holo-map. He continued to bark orders and individual flight paths "Royal Vipers. You are to kick in those afterburners til you meet up with the Void Stompers at all haste. You are their Cap now gentlemen, I expect you there yesterday! Reaper and Talon wings you're on us. Basilisk and Apocalypse you are to be at ready Five." He was interrupted from his next thoughts as Comm Officer Lt. Alexandra Mineiro's silken voice broke through to him meekly "Commodore the last escorts are away where should I put them?" Striker didn't even bat an eye "That's Tian's group right? Have him protect our rear. I'm sure he'll have no problem with that."

Lieutenant Tan-Xuan "Tiger" Tian received his orders and knew exactly what that crazy man meant by "Guard their rear" and he Hated it! It was his own fault really for proving it could be done to the Commodore on a bet in the first place, and now this crazy and crafty old fool was going to have his entire squadron do it? "Crap crap crap crappity crap" he exclaimed more to himself than anyone. "Excuse me lead? What was that?" Warrant Officer Bowls replied. "Nothing, form up on me maneuver Tango Six. No complaints. No Chatter! Just do your Job!" The six ships swung around and began to skim over the Basel's hull towards her engines slowly as the ship set there in the depth of space still un-moving and waiting for them to get into position. "Well at least he didn't have us doing this on a the fly" He whispered not caring if the others heard or not. The ships each kicked on their magnetic gear then and attached just scant feet from the engines housings and once locked waited silently for their prey. A few scants moments later the ship lurched hard right and came around cutting through the void like butter. (Ah the joys of the hunt. D#mn! I hope we all get out of this alive.)

Edited by Oni Storm, 11 October 2012 - 12:31 PM.

[Col Nighthawk]

March 22th 2581 0612 hrs
Zenith Jump point of Prospector's Paradise

Task Force 21 appeared from the void and recovered from the sickness then within minutes the 3 launch bays aboard each Robinson were empty. The full 605th Independent Fighter Wing was doing the last bits of forming up into their respective wings and taking up position as they continued at a full burn towards Yukon. The escorts escorts formed up into a wing of their own and took up the last of the out lying positions.

SLS Boris and Natasha launched their respective 3 escorts each. The Minx and Assassin squadrons made up of Lyonesses. These were joined by Bandit squadron launched from the Leopard class CV SLS Badenov as they joined into a mixed wing around the dropship and took up center position between the two scouts.

The SLS Reliant received her launch and positional requests as well from Commodore Sulagna aboard the SLS Gentry to take up a trailing position with her fighters split 12 to a side. Then drop 2 Pentagons to escort the Barons SLS Dixie and Savannah which both being slower and bulky were asked to guard the flank the best they could and not break from their trailing positions no matter what.

March 22th 2581 0629hrs
Leaving Zenith Jump point of Prospector's Paradise

The ships continued moving the entire time trying to reach Yukon as soon as possible and forming up into ther respective position when the warning came from SLS Natasha "We have jump signatures forming behind us near the Destroyers. I count seven no eight signatures!"


"Calm down Ensign, Fleet come to bearing 120 degrees. Prepare for broadside fire. Start working your firing solutions and fire the moment they appear full spread! Zig Zag maneuvers til we're clear of these pests. All wings you have permission to engage. Keep them back there guys. Commodore Salagna out."

Edited by Col Nighthawk, 21 September 2012 - 05:17 AM.

[RogueSpear]

March 22nd 2581 06
29 hours,
Location: Deep space, 1 light year from the Heliopause of the Prospector's Paradise System.
Bridge of the TCV Butterfly

Burroughs chewed on his cheek as he glared off at the distant star through the viewscreen. "Babylon, take my wing. We are Red Flight. Drake, form on Falcon. You are Blue Flight. Together we are Powerful. Challenger, form on Myrmidon, you are Yellow Flight. Charybdis, form on Night Caller. You are Green Flight. Together you are Terrible. Captains confirm."
"Babylon, Element Wingman to Butterfly, Green Flight of Squadron Powerful."
"Falcon, Element Leader, Blue Flight of Squadron Powerful."
"Drake, Element Wingman to Falcon, Blue Flight of Squadron Powerful."
"Powerful, standing by." Reported Burroughs.
"Night Caller, Squadron Leader, Green Flight of Squadron Terrible."
"Charybdis, Element Wingman, Green Flight of Squadron Terrible."
"Myrmidon, Element Leader, Yellow Flight of Squadron Terrible."
"Challenger, Element Wingman to Myrmidon, Yellow Flight of Squadron Terrible."
"Terrible standing by."

Burroughs let out a held breath. His fingers drummed on the balustrade. He nodded firmly to himself, turned and sat in his seat, flipping his jacket across himself as he sat so as not to get it caught.
"Helm, you're confident of those projections?"
"Aye sir. Should be good for about another minute, maybe just over. After that they'll be out of range."
Burroughs chewed his cheek again. "Powerful, Terrible, jump on my mark. Five. Four. Three. Two. One. Mark."
His stomach flipped and his vision blurred in the momentumless momentum of jumping. Immediately the viewport burned white for an instant, then the light moved and died in a belch.
"What the...? Helm! Simmons! Give me starboard movement, get me in that Baron's shadow! Someone lower the blast shields on that viewport!" Ahead of them, less than a dozen kilometres by his judgement was a Baron class destroyer, slowly turning to it's side, thrown and broken by the gravitic tides of the squadron jumping in.
"Aye sir, starboard movement aye." Replied Lieutenant Simmons groggily as he fumbled with his console.
"Powerful, Terrible, get into the shadow of that Baron, split it open before they can react, hide from the rest of that fleet. What are we facing? Sensors, get me screens!"
The viewport darkened as the blast shields began to retract and a localized hologram burst into life in front of his station. He shoved himself to the balustrade once more, staggering to it and blinked at the swirling lights as his brain recovered from the jump. Hurriedly he muttered to himself. "Two Barons, Avatar, Three Robinsons, bombard ships can't hurt us if we keep speed up...One Tracker, one Nightwing...Leopard CV, two Pentagons...several fighter wings...Hell."
Raising his voice he triggered the shipwide comms again by speaking the squadron names. A sophisticated voice recognition program broadcasted anything said by a ship's captain once they'd named a ship in the fleet, even their own, or a flight or squadron...anything the program was told to respond to. It could cause orders to be overheard by other ships, but it kept it's captain's hands free and less distracted. "Powerful, Terrible, do not launch fighters, repeat, do not launch fighters." Beneath his feet he felt the light judder of the naval PPCs mounted in the Butterfly's nose fire in a one - two volley. Tactical is online, gunners are recovering. Lasers must be joining in too. "Huddle in at 45 degree angle on...the Dixie, bring port broadsides into play and hammer them with fore and port batteries. When we break it, form fluid four by squadron and bring down those Pentagons. When the Pentagons are gone loop round that Avatar and get in between those Robinsons, I want them hitting themselves with every shot that doesn't hit us."
Finally the projector crackled to life and showed him the view directly in front of the Butterfly, the Dixie lazily drifting in space as his Pintos streaked in.

[Thom Frankfurt]

Vulture Class Dropship, Blue Buzzard
Nadir Jump point of Prospector's Paradise
March 22th 2581 0612 hrs

Thunk! The sensation of the Blue Buzzard detaching from the SLS Voidwalker reverbrated throughout the derelict Vulture class, more felt than heard. Then the slight vibration rattled throughout the ship as it ignited it's engines and accelerated to take it's position a mere two thousand meters off from the Voidwalker.

Raymond Looked over his small band a marines, the fiercest warriors in the entire 13th fleet, well on paper anyways. They had more combat experience than anyone else in the 13th, but that was mostly ground bound. Where gravity was a constant and the ground was always underneath your feet, well unless you were on a bluewater ship, or in the air...or one was unfortunate to step on a landmine.... But out in the blackwater, things were different. The human body was not built for this type of fighting. No gravity through in a bunch of X-factors. Cover could easily be moved, crushing on between the cover and a bulkhead. Shots could come from any direction, he heard plenty of tales of leathernecks being gunned down in some ships mechback by some gunner lieing in wait upon the ceiling of the bay. Then throw in loss of atmosphere, combat suit breaches, explostions knocking troopers off ship and deep into the black, or battletaxis being obliterated by freak luck heavy capitol weapon shots.

But there was no stim or drug that could match the thrill of this kind of battle.

Ray then looked over his troops. Emaculatly clad in their combat suits, his squad was ready. Equipted with a good mix of weaponry, combat shottys, SMG's, laser carbines, and even a 'Pigman' LMG gunner. Also each trooper carries an assortment of explosives, plastique, shaped charges, normal as well as various tactical grenades. Emblazoned across each marines helmet was a bold blocky 13. The Taurian's would know who they were facing, and Raymond took pride knowing that his troops were 'dressed to kill,' literally.

Gong! the flashing red light stopped and was replaced by a pulsing green one. As one the several companies of marines stood up from where they were mustered in the lauch bays of the 'Buzzard' and began filing towards their designated battletaxi. Raymond took his place by the door as the other troopers marched aboard the small craft that would lead them onward to death or glory and as they reached the acess hatch Ray took a second to shake each ones hand and offer some sort of encouragement.

"See you on a Taurian ships bridge, Jill. Ready to hurt the enemy, Russ? etc; etc;"

When his squad was finally aboard he looked once more over the rapidly emptying launch bay, then closed and dogged the hatch. He then turned to make his way to his seat where he straped himself in.

Now the waiting game began.

[Listless Nomad]

March 22nd 2581 0630 hours,
Location: Zenith Jump Point of Prospector's Paradise
Deck C Aft - SLS Dixie

"Jesus Christ Danny! RUN!"

Yeoman Thomas Williamson, was sprinting down the hallway, trying to reach the Deck C lift. Yeoman Danny Tanaga was rapidly falling behind. Thomas turned to wave Danny through a bulkhead, urging him to run faster, when both of them were slammed violently against the passageway wall. Alarm Klaxons were already wailing throughout the ship, and now sparks showered down from an overhead electrical conduit. Thomas looked back and saw that his friend had been knocked unconscious. Groggily, Thomas stood and limped back towards Danny, the ship continuing to rock from what he had to assume were weapon impacts. As Thomas tried to heave Danny over his shoulder into a fireman's carry, a soothing voice came over the PA System.

"Hull breech. Loss of atmosphere imminent. Please evacuate the compartment."

In a cold sweat, Thomas looked back toward the bulkhead door where he had stood a moment ago. A warning gong sounded three times and then the door slammed shut, sealing itself to prevent a catastrophic loss of pressure. Wearily, Thomas slumped against the wall of the passageway, coming to a rest at the base next to the limp form of his friend.

At least he won't be awake for this.

Without warning, the power went out, plunging Thomas into complete darkness. The only sensation he had was a slight breeze, growing in intensity, blowing down the passage and away from the closed bulkhead.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the black void of space, the SLS Dixie rolled lazily, unable to correct her drift, or gain any semblance of control. As she rolled, beams of light illuminated her battered hull, stabbing into her again and again, leaving molten scars in their wake. In silence she suffered, spherical orange blossoms of fire spreading up and down her flanks until she could take no more.

At 0631 hours 29 seconds, an NL35 from the TCV Babylon lanced through an already fractured section of the Dixie's hull, plunged through three decks, and connected with the main battery storage of the Number 4 gun of the Dixie. The resulting explosion caused a catastrophic failure of the internal structure and broke the back of the once proud Baron class warship. Before the eyes of the hundreds of men and women of both TF21 and the Pinto fleet, the Dixie was illuminated from within by a brilliant white light, and then torn asunder silently. The two halves of the ship drifted apart lazily, spinning slowly as an eternal tomb for the 275 crewmembers aboard.

For the members of the 13th and 3rd fleets, the death of the Dixie was represented only as a two dimensional icon winking out of existence.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

March 22^th 2581 0632 hrs
Nadir Jump point of Prospector's Paradise
50,000m in front of the SLS Basel
Bridge of the SLS Prometheus

"Conn...Sensors. We've lost the Dixie."

Captain Kafarov was in a foul mood. The new jump signatures at the Zenith point had been an unwelcome surprise, and now he felt like they had been lead straight into a trap.

Element of surprise...my a*s.

"What do you mean you lost her?"

The sensor officer turned to face the Captain, some trepidation in her voice. "We just lost her captain. Signals seem to confirm catastrophic hull breach. She's gone sir."

Kafarov frowned in return. He needed to know from the Admiral what they were going to do. With the main enemy fleet bearing down on them, they could ill afford to turn tail now and help out the small force.

"Damnit this was what the escorts were for! Communications!"

Before the captain could finish his sentence the communications officer interrupted.

"Priority message from the Admiral Sir."

"Read it"

"Message reads...Situation with TF21 known. Cannot be helped. Continue on present course and speed to intercept main body. Out."

Kafarov took one last look at the holodisplay showing the Zenith jump point. The angry red triangles were beginning to merge with the friendly blue squares. He hoped to God they could handle themselves. Kafarov then settled into his command chair for what was going to be a long wait...

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

March 22^th 2581 1400 hrs
Open space approaching Gas Giant BFC4591
50,000m in front of the SLS Basel
Bridge of the SLS Prometheus

"All hands...Brace for combat maneuvering. They're here..."

Edited by Listless Nomad, 26 September 2012 - 08:09 AM.

[guardian wolf]

March 22th 2581 1400 hrs
Open space approaching Gas Giant BFC4591
SLS Basel Hangar

Alarm klaxons sounded, battle stations.
"ALL MARINES REPORT TO YOUR TAXIS NOW, MOVE IT PEOPLE...."
The shouting of squad leaders was normal, the running of the marines to man their ships, was normal. What wasn't, was the fact that Alpha was already getting ready to launch. John got his men inside their taxi, and his men made last second checks. John looked at his AR, it reminded him, that his marines were a weapon, a shell, and the Navy was their cannon.
"Let's hope they shoot straight this time," He patted his AR and strapped into his seat, as the rest did the same.

Edited by guardian wolf, 26 September 2012 - 08:27 AM.

[RogueSpear]

March 22nd 2581 0632 Hours,
Location: Zenith Jump Point of Prospector's Paradise,
Bridge of the TCV Butterfly,

"Target destroyed sir!" Boomed Trask, viciously.
"Squadrons are forming, as per your orders, Commodore," Delaney's eyes were fixed on his displays, hands flying over dials as he tried to keep absolutely everything in focus, even as the Dixie's death throes rocked the ship.
Burrough's leaned on his brass balustrade staring at the tactical screens, looking at the positions of the two pentagons. We don't need four ships to kill one of those in a single sweep. Two should do, if they don't get it on the first pass the aft batteries will break it.
As his corvettes flew out from behind the Dixie, their fluid four formation bringing two from each squadron over and two under the hulk, he spoke. "Terrible, split to fluid two, take the dropships. Powerful, vertical thatch weave by pair, then horizontal Kulbit solo, target is the Savannah. Terrible, when you're done with those Pentagons," He braced his feet as he felt the Butterfly begin the maneouvre, "Join the fun. You should be able to finish it. All batteries incapable of firing on their primary target, engage targets of opportunity. Point defence, stay sharp."

Edited by RogueSpear, 26 September 2012 - 08:14 AM.