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Sins of a Solar Empire Roleplay
Rules: Freeform
Background: The Grand Fleet broke its watchful orbit over the planet below, leaving only the pitifully inadaquet orbital defenses to defend her. Rank upon rank fired up its grav engines to fight the horribly strong gravitational pull, spewing radioactive waste from rear facing reaction drives (if you had to dump such waste anyway, it made sense to do so in a useful way). The denizens of the planet below watched as impossible constellations of 'stars' danced above them, hearts hopeful. Suddenly the stars flared brighter, then leapt away with breathtaking speed as they initiated phase jump, and vanished from normal-space.

One by one the ships approached the fearful fusion heart of the system, its golden brilliance searing their shields. Ansible connections relayed Admiral Jennings compliments to Rear Admiral Fortinbrad via the Capitol, even as primitive radio waves sent IFF signals crawling out.

"Admiral," Jennings said simply.

"Admiral," Fortinbrad returned just as austerely, then broke into a grin. "Good luck and fair trading, Bill."

With the barest of smiles crinkling his aged eyes, Jennings nodded. "And you to, old friend. I hope..." Jennings trailed of, and his friend waited patiently for him to resume. "We need this victory, Jack. If they actually go ahead and defect to the other side, the results will be catastrophic. The Vasariin line is only a jump away. And if they break through now -- as we're attacked on the other side of our territory..."

"How bad is it?" Fortinbrad asked. "I don't have the clearance you do, but nothing routed to me me indicated-"

"We're suppressing the news, but odds are we're talking about complete military collapse in no more than six months.” Jennings moved closer and lowered his voice., “At the outside. If my mission fails, you can knock five months off that."

Fortinbrad remained silent, even as Jennings sighed. "Of course, they keep pushing that estimate back as new construction rolls off the line, and newly researched technology gets put into service. If the new Kol class design works half as well as expected, we might add another month or three to that estimate."

"They finished her?" Fortinbrad smiled. "I thought they were going to just keep on 'refining the design' until the Vasari could do it for them. Or end it on them," he commented wryly.

"A certain Fleet Admiral of our mutual acquaintance -- Drusov -- insisted on touring the front line personally to get opinions on several of the newest refinements she'd come up with. Unfortunately, she neglected to officially inform the design board of her intent to hold the design back to incorporate them. I imagine she'll be most upset that, lacking orders to the contrary, the design board chose to order the first Kol Class Battleship commissioned and field tested immediately. And, alas, since the TMS Defiant has in fact started a field test, the previous board -- and all its members -- are dismissed, and barred from holding positions on the design board that will review the test and make any final modifications before releasing the design for mass-production."

Fortinbrad laughed. "She'll have your hide, Bill. She can't order you around officially, but we both know that she's a hundred times the politician your are. Which is terribly unfair, given that your a thousand -- a million! -- times the admiral she could ever dream of being!"

"It doesn't matter Jack. By the time she gets back from the front and discovers it, I'll have either won the campaign, giving me the political clout to end that bitch's career once and for all, or I'll have lost. And if I loose, all the damage she can do to our defense won't matter anymore. Its do or die time. And I, for one, have every intention of doing. Whatever the cost."

A rating stepped into Jenning's display and whispered something to Fortinbrad. "I gotta go Bill, PSIDAR just picked some pirate signature's inbound. Well off your arc of transit, so don't worry about helping. Its only one or two smaller vessels anyway. Good luck, and fair trading."

"You two old friend," Jennings replied, just as the signal cut out. "Tactical!" he commanded loudly.

"Yes sir?" a rating replied nervously.

"Bring up the system-wide tactical feed," Jennings ordered calmly, barely waiting for the ratings nervous "Aye-aye sir!" before moving on.

Flipping his command console into place, he punched in a com request to the bridge. "Officer of the Watch here, Admiral," a rather beautiful Commander Watangopansi answered, appearing on one of his screens.

"Why wasn't I informed about the PSIDAR track immediately?"

"Sorry sir, CIC only just relayed the information to me,” the commander said, slightly embarrassed. “We were refining our initial data as far as possible before sending it up the line. Its far off our transit arc, and SunWatch has already moved to intercept. I'll transfer the tactical feed now.” The commander looked down and punched some commands into a computer control off-screen.

A quiet, buzzing hum sprang up in front of the admiral, as the giant holo-imaging array activated. The high pitched whine of it always annoyed the admiral, as he was one of the few who could hear it. Still, the 3-D holo image was really the only way to view a battle in space. The only effective way, at least.

Suddenly the display started popping and sizzling, and then electricity crawled around the emitters for a moment before stabbing out in a dazzling display of why holo emitters weren't in common use in any place where 3D imagery wasn't absolutely necessary. The curtain of lightning between the top and the bottom of the array was pretty, but the ozone and smell of scorched electronics was less than pleasant.

“I'm afraid I'm going to have to let you go, Commander. It would appear that engineering didn't properly align the holo emitters for my tactical display,” the Jennings said calmly as two ratings ran up with fire extinguishers to put out the remnants of the electrical fire. Activating a control on his console, Jennings brought up the tactical feed in a flat-display image. “Please inform them of that for me.”

“Aye aye admiral,” Commander Watangopansi said briskly, a flicker of annoyance crossing her face before she cut the connection.

Studying the display, Admiral Jennings smiled softly. It wouldn't do any good to tell her, but she really was quite beautiful when she got mad. No doubt engineering would be showing up twice as quick for her pretty face. Well, her pretty face and the threat of his displeasure. Not that they'd have taken long anyway, but passing it through her was a stroke of genius. Especially given her clear, and irrational, dislike of the lieutenant commander who had the engineering watch today.

And, as much as he hated to admit it, she was right about waiting to refine the data. The PSIDAR track was well away from the fleets projected course, and the local SunWatch hardly needed support to deal with a mere three pirate frigates. Especially when all three were Corinado class. A nasty ship, to be sure, but the Corinado design placed far to heavy an emphasis on--. “Thats odd,” Jennings whispered softly. Turning to another console, he opened up the intelligence data base and set up a hasty search to check his memory. “Communications, send a signal to fleet HQ. Request further information on any times the pirates have deployed Corinado class vessels without support ships, either operating alone or in groups.”

“Sending intel request sir,” a rating replied. A moment later he continued, “HQ has received, and acknowledged, sir.”

“Forward the data to me upon receipt,” Jennings said absentmindedly. “Further request intel on stealth systems capable of deceiving PSIDAR, cross referenced with any pirate usage. Also route to me ASAP.” Ignoring the rating's reply, Jennings leaned in closer to the display he'd put the tactical feed on, chewing his lip softly. A soft ding from one of his other displays drew his attention. HQ had routed information directly to him for some reason. Unusual, to say the least.

Jennings was surprised, to say the least, when the system refused to open the communique without first having the system placed in secure mode. Activating the privacy filters around his station, pulled the central console up and in front of him, and then leaned in to the specially designed retina scan / private display unit. The edges of the “hood” bumped up around his eyes, and sealed there with specially designed micro-suction units. A quick flare of light traced across his vision, blinding him for a moment as the system took a retina scan, then the display part of the system triggered and he was looking at the communique itself.

{Need to look up formating code to indent}

FLEET ADMIRAL JENNINGS: YOUR EYES ONLY
RE: Recent intel requests regarding pirates use of stealth and Corinado class vessels

[center]OMEGA LEVEL SECURITY CLEARANCE REQUIRED
CONFIRMED NEED TO KNOW REQUIRED

WARNING! UNAUTHORIZED VIEWING OF THIS FILE IS A PUNISHABLE OFFENSE UNDER THE TEC MILITARY CODE, REVISION 1.009.395 (X0009T, STARDATE 9.3.12956)
PUNISHMENT CAN INCLUDE LIFE IMPRISONMENT IN SOLITARY ISOLATION
SHARING OF THIS DOCUMENT WITH UNCLEARED PERSONS MAY BE PUNISHED WITH ULTIMATE SANCTIONS[/center]

This document to be transmitted only to CO's of fleets and remote task forces upon any request regarding the following combination of events:

Detection of pirate Corinado class vessels with PSIDAR, without any support vessels
Pirate vessels appearing or disappearing on PSIDAR in mid-jump without apparent reason
Pirate vessels previously undetected on PSIDAR entering system

If these events have occurred in your designated command area, or in the vicinity of said DCA, you may request further information from HQ on a priority encrypt basis. Use command code:

[highlight=black]9744568[/highlight](Highlight to read)

Send to attention of

FLEET COMMAND
INTELLIGENCE DIVISION
OFFICER OF THE WATCH

Keep all information in this communique secret. Keep all information of the file request secret unless otherwise ordered, or necessary for the preservation of your DCA and all units attached. Further exemptions may be requested of Fleet HQ intel division watch officer, from there to be relayed to competent authorities. If requesting further exemption, do not indicate nature of file, use code name “Damocles”.

FLEET COMMAND
INTELLIGENCE DIVISION
FLEET ADMIRAL JESSICA WATURP
{/indent}

Fingers flying on his keyboard, Jennings requested that the attached file be transmitted. Opening it, his eyes widened abruptly. “Com, get me Fortinbrad – now!”

“Sorry sir, they've gone to battle stations and disengaged their ansibles. Want me to signal via radio?”

“Yes! Emergency priority alpha! Message to Fortinbrad as follows: Highly classified intelligence currently in my possession suggests possible danger to SunWatch taskforce. Disengage from incoming pirate force immediately, my force will rendezvous immediately to support. Repeat, direct order to disengage immediately! This is non-discretionary. Fleet Admiral Jennings out. Communications, send immediately, then signal fleet to prepare for maneuvers.”

“Sir! SunWatch just brought their ansibles back up, and are hailing. Fortinbrad is calling you.”

Leaning back, Jennings smiled. “Put him through.” As his screen lit up, the smile dropped off his face.

“Bill...” Fortinbrad coughed out, face covered in blood. “Pirate force... larger... Fleet destroyed.” Fortinbrad swallowed convulsively, as his ship shook under him, in time to the lights coming in from the hull-breach behind him. “Derigible's shields... gone, the ar-” signal inteference crawled across the screen. “-oing to make it... old friend.”

“I'm coming to your aide now, Jack. Just hold on!” Fortinbrad implored his old friend, reaching out instinctively.

Fortinbrad smiled behind his faceplate. “Old friend... Send them to hell for me!” With a terrible squeal of tortured metal, Fortinbrad went flying away from his console mere moments before the signal cut out. Looking at his tactical feed, Admiral Jennings watched the ghosts of dead ships play out the terrible ballet as signals traveling at light speed finally reached his vessel. SunWatch approached the entry point of the incoming phase lane, deployed to engage the mere three cruisers it had detected. And then, instead of three cruisers appearing, an entire fleet suddenly appeared from nowhere, guns blazing.

SunWatch's frigates and cruisers were getting mauled, the pirate vessels ignoring the converted Sova class liner in favor of eliminating her lesser cousins. Yet SunWatch gave a good accounting of itself, and even this force of pirates couldn't account for its utter destruction. Then three more vessels jumped in, their icons the strobing icon of an unknown class of vessel. CIC quickly divided them into two classes of vessels, and threw some preliminary data into a sidebar for him. Fortinbrad's face whitened. “By the Great Bottom Line, not possible!” he swore softly. The vessels were capitol ships, massive mountains of metal capable, when properly supported, of reducing entire fleets to debris in a pitched battle. The two classes were distinct, one a longer ranged dreadnought of some kind. The other two vessels however, weren't just impossible, they were unthinkable. The TEC had spent years designing the Kol class, and there was no way the pirates could have even heard of those efforts. None! “Signal fleet HQ, make sure they get a copy of this data immediately. Then signal fleet to launch tactical sensor drones. We need FTL scan capacity now.”

The two Kol analogs, heavy hitting short range specialists, made straight for the Derigible, pounding it with weapons the equal of its own. The larger vessel stayed back, launching wave after wave of missiles into the Derigible, even as its rail guns engaged the desperate bombers that fought to get into range. The Derigible's shields degraded, and suddenly the missile and beam fire was raking it's hull, tearing deep into its armored hide with brutal swiftness, secondary explosions illuminating its shattered hull. Dirigible didn't even approach his Defiant's massively armored hull's capacity for abuse, but even as the bastards raped her she came about and targeted one of them and replies to their hammering in kind. Then her engines lit up, moving her at twice their rated speed. The energy signatures built, and built, and built. Jennings looked away as the two icons merged, and then vanished.

“Fleet ready for maneuvers, sir,” the rating at tactical said, even as an officer rushed onto the flag deck and took over the com controls.

“Signal all units... bring us about to engage the enemy. Calculate least time intercept.”

“Aye aye sir.”

Punching a control on his chair, Admiral Jennings requested a connection to the captain. A screen lit up, showing a handsome, half-undressed individual struggling with a skin suit, face red and slick with persperation from the effort. “Sir?”

“Captain, under the circumstances-” Jennings broke off as the captain fell back on his rear. “Please, do try not to hurt yourself captain.”

“I... I don't... mean...” clutching his chest, the captain broke off. “Something... gah, the pain...” The captain's eyes widened, then he convulsed violently, falling backwards in a seizure.

“Sir!” a rating scrambled onto Jennings display, then hit a nearby button. “Medical party to the captains quarters! Medical party to the captains quarters now!” Jennings swore as the com connection broke.

“Communications, signal the CO of the Water Bright to repair aboard immediately to take command. If that wasn't a fatal heart attack, I haven't seen one before. The is brevetted to Captain (junior grade), a rather long overdue promotion.” Finishing the split second decisions, the admiral turned back to his tactical repeaters angrily.

“What else could go wrong to-” the ship suddenly shuddered underfoot as alarms began to wail. Glancing at a nearby engineering screen, he swore as the ships acceleration suddenly shifted... directly towards the star in a state of total non control. “That answers that. Get me engineering now! I can't execute command on a lame duck ship.”

Ignoring his orders, the com officer strode across the flag deck instead. “What is it, Lieutenant?”

Ignoring the admiral, the Lieutenant walked right up and slammed a fist into the Admiral's solar plexus before anyone could react, following it with a second killing blow, palm to the base of the nose.

And ahead of them, the pirate fleet came about to attack the fleet.

Note: all spelling/grammar errors are entirely the fault of Ron Lugge, the lazy bum who wrote this