The Hedron Empire has been at war for over two decades against the Perusian Confederacy over resources and territory. Casualties upon both sides have risen over the tens of millions. Talks of a possible truce between the two massive space powers are about as hopeful as one could be.
Our story takes place closer to the end of the war. All of its achievements, successes, exploits, and failures will be exposed within this story.
20 June 0124
HMS Formidable
Global Cluster IC0620996
Deep Space
Flashpoint
The massive space vessel appeared instantly into view with a blinding light, replacing the once empty space in a blink of an eye. The hull of the ship bellowed a haunting moan. The ship structure rubberbands, twisting and bending in ways it was not designed to do. This event took several more crucial seconds for it to stabilize as interdiction overall is an... unpleasant experience.
"This is not a drill - This is not a drill!" The intercoms rang loudly several times before continuing. "General Quarter - General Quarters! All hands man your battle stations! Forward and up starboard side, down and aft to the port side!" The obnoxious ringing continues again.
Within the next couple seconds, several unidentified vessels occupied the once empty space just several kilometers behind the drifting ship. Positioning themselves in a way that would allow them to utilize the full extent of their ship weapons without putting themselves at risk. As if on cue, several blurred objects detach themselves from the underside hull of their respective motherships and begin speeding their way towards the Hedron warship.
[] Male
[] Female
[] Intelligence: A guaranteed Bonus in intelligence-based rolls like Mechanics and Engineering.
[] Brawn: A guaranteed Bonus in strength-based rolls like one's Resilience or Melee skill.
[] Cunning: A guaranteed Bonus in perceptive-based rolls related to one's sixth sense.
[] Presence: A guaranteed Bonus in charisma-based rolls like Leadership.
[] Agility: A guaranteed Bonus in dexterity-based rolls like Stealth and Piloting.
[] Willpower: A guaranteed Bonus in mental-based rolls like Discipline or Coercion.
[] Young Age (20):
Choosing this option you feel largely inexperienced—naïve to say the least. The feeling of adventure and the innate human curiosity surges through your veins and the longing for the vast unknown is enticing to you. With a gung-ho attitude, you feel that if you put your mind to the task you will succeed. Solutions are obtained by being persistent.
+Failures count as bonuses to your next check and can stack until the next success of which it will reset back to 0
-Average of average: Base stats in INT, STR, CUN, PRE, AGI, WILL are all 2
-Narratively you are often underestimated and chastised for your lack of experience
[] Middle Age (35):
Choosing this option you feel confident in your abilities and the various relevant information pertaining to your role. The feeling of adventure and curiosity has been replaced with glory and honor. You aim to prove yourself to your superiors of your abilities and inspire those around you. Achievements are either obtained ruthlessly…or… benevolently.
+With your knowledge and experience, you are naturally a leader of people (Increase Presence by 1)
+Failing Presence Rolls count as bonuses to your next relevant check and can stack until the next success of which it will reset back to 0
- A decrease of 1 in either AGI or STR due to being past your prime.
[] AGI or [] STR
[] Old Age (55):
Choosing this option you have survived and lived through many situations that would daunt even the most experienced service member in the Hedron Navy. You are well respected and your knowledge in warfare are valued by those who ask for your wisdom. However, you are not young anymore. The glory days are behind you and the only Honor you remain to keep intact is your service to the Hedron Empire. She, herself, is your glory. Her existence is your personal crowning achievement. Thus, you are confined to a more important position for the sake of her existence.
+Legendary Status: You are well known, and your words may rival even the power of a highest ranking official. (Increase Presence by 2)
+Knowledgeable: You have studied and practiced in theories and concepts revolving the Art of War. (Increase Intelligence by 1)
-Deteriorating health: Despite outliving every danger you've endured in your service; outsmarting death has its price.
(Decrease Strength to 0 and Agility to 1)
(Increase Cunning and Willpower by 1)
-Lesser of Two Evils mode
As the Ship Captain you are responsible for vessel itself and those who live and breath within it. As Captain you understand that the vessel itself cannot be operated alone and requires the combined teamwork of hundreds, if not, thousands of individuals for everything to work seamlessly. To do that you coordinate with your contingent of officers who specialize in their specific station for the ship. These can range from Fire Control, Engineering, Tactical, Communications, etc. They are all experts in their field, and it is the Captain's ability to utilize his/her officers in a way to make his/her vessel the most formidable foe on the battlefield. Understanding this can mean between the next breath of fresh air or the next breath of vacuum.
-Choosing this profession requires the type of ship:
[] Frigate
[] Destroyer
[] Cruiser
[] Battleship
[] Carrier
The Marines onboard a naval vessel are trained to protect the vessel from both enemy boarders and uncooperating crewmembers. Specialized in close quarters combat (CQC), they are perfect for maintaining the law and order of a present vessel and functioning as bare minimum skeleton crew if a prize has been acquired. Hedron Naval Marines are also able to operate fighter crafts, which allows an increase in tactical flexibility, but only marines who specialized in piloting are able to operate a fighter craft with deadly efficiency.
-Choosing this profession requires a focus:
[] CQC
[] Pilot
[] Custom Profession: (List your suggestion with a bit of something to work with)
[] Easy
[] Normal
[] Hard
Fate Points, in this case, are ways the players and GM are able to legitimately ass pull (as long as it makes sense) to add things into the scene or make choices an instant success (QM has discretion). Each fate point used will be transferred to the other side. For example, if the majority of voters decide to use a fate point to make a check a success then I would be able to use the fate point given to me to increase the difficulty of the next check or ramp up the difficulty of the scene. If I do use one, the audience gets one. Vice Versa.
Another way to use a fate point is "spawning" an item to help the character make a check/future checks a possible success. For example, our MC finds himself stuck under ship debris and does not have the adequate strength to lift himself out of it. Using a fate point, the voters discussed a possible idea of finding a space blowtorch floating by, within reach, that the MC could use to free himself.
[] Yes
[] No
Before you all begin voting.
This is my first post, and perhaps the first like it. Let me apologize right now for any mistakes I'll be making along the way as this is very much a learning process for me.
The system I will be using for the rolls is the Star Wars FFG system; because personally, I love the narrative dies. It allows not just me, but also the players/audience to help shape the character's actions and his/her surroundings. What I mean by that is: I want to go beyond just mere voting. I want the players/audience to actively discuss the reasons for their choices to help to shape the scene, the situation the character is in, and most importantly, to help shape the story with me.
I've made the beginning and the end of the story, but the filling in between is untouched and unsurveyed. To accomplish that I highly encourage that voters discuss amongst themselves, debate even, of their choices to each other. The reasons why and the assumptions of why.
Lastly, I would just like to say to take careful consideration of the character's age and his/her profession as they have a huge impact on how the story starts off and progress.
The Hedron Warship, the HMS Formidable, a battleship forged in fire and tempered in time, was left adrift and in the most undesirable situation. Her main anti-ship batteries are all currently stowed and the vast array of point defense batteries offline. On top of that, her large contingent of missile bays and torpedo tubes are empty and require manual reloading, all without the assistance of the ship auto-loaders. A slow and painful task for the crew assigned to them.
Located close to the center mass of the ship is the bridge and combat information center, the CIC. Enclosed in several layers of composite armor, and several decks of redundant protection, it is considered the "safest" location onboard a Hedron vessel. As it stands, however, the CIC itself was a mess.
<Vote Result: Young Female Ship Captain>
"Status!" Sinclair manages to cough out. Grabbing hold of a nearby console to help herself up from the floor.
Someone from the back answered above the chaos of sparks and the shorting of equipment. "We have a flameout sir! The engines need time to relight!"
"Weapon systems from bow to stern—unresponsive!" Fire control added. "They've pulled us right out of hyperspace! We're so far from the front! Since wh-"
<Vote Result: Presence>
The officer bites his tongue as he glanced upwards to catch a glimpse of Commander Sinclair's glare. "I need only critical information, Mister Leon. But noted." Sinclair says calmly, but firmly, then turns her attention to a different station. "Tactical!" she calls out.
"We're running blind sir!" Tactical manages to say before her station gave a burst of sparks. "I think I can get the auxiliary systems online, but barely."
"Work on it."
Adjusting herself, she glances at the battle map. It's a holographic table located right in the center of the CIC surrounded by several LCD screens displaying only the important and useful information for the command staff to extrapolate a plan of sorts. As it stands, however, they fizzle on and off. Useless as much as they are useful.
"Once we get the engines online. I want the drive spooled, no delays." She says to her command crew while looking up at one of the screens. They don't work though, just out of habit. "And I want to be going above light speed not below. And especially not at." She clarifies.
You never go at light speed. Ever.
The room shook as the sound of clinking metal reverberated throughout the hull. The Perusian interceptors began making their dry runs to adjust their cannons. Peashooters in comparison to the thick Bekara infused armor plating that encased the ship. However, they weren't hoping to damage it with their guns at all. No. They wanted to send a message.
"Sir!" One of the command crew called out. "CAG reports one of the hangar bays are still operational. She's requesting permission to sortie."
Options
[] Get the Engines running and make a run for it. ("Two more minutes Captain and we got propulsion. From there I can lift the safety and hit a random vector and jump.")
[] Get the Weapon Systems online. ("Fire control stern to bow are reporting power to their weapons Captain. A little bit more she'll be fighting again.")
[] Launch responsive fighters. ("Hellion, Control! Hellion 1 to 4 ready to run CAP!")
[] Negotiate with the Perusian forces. ("Captain, Comms. We're being hailed.")
[] Launch a distress beacon. (We're in friendly territory… there should be a nearby defense fleet to assist us…)
The Hedron Battleship continued floating adrift, its massive outdated MX-750 sublight engines flickered continuously on and off. Any limited power that can be extracted from noncritical systems were rerouted to the maneuvering subsystems. With the spare juice, the accompanying auxiliary thrusters that are placed strategically across the ship sputtered to life. However, as far as propulsion goes, it's nothing substantial. It's not enough to make quick changes in any direction and not enough to escape from the attackers.
After another strafing run, the Perusian interceptors distanced themselves from the battleship and reformed far off the starboard side. They lingered in a mass unorganized clump before they came careening in towards the stern of the ship in several wedge formations. A soft red trail lags just behind their engines.
As they approached, each interceptor deployed a missile known as "Poppers," coined by the navy pilots. For the non-pilots however, "What?," is the usual response.
It would approach its target via mixture of momentum and nonburning propellant and primed to disintegrate before impacting. Inside each missile contained up to twenty baseball size explosive fragmentation warheads, each warhead wired to a magnetic sensor and its own supply of propellant. After the initial disintegration, the mini-missiles would ignite and scatter itself before detonating; to increase its hit probability chance and lessen the chance for enemy pilots to evade unscathed.
As to where the name came from, naval pilots described the small puff of smoke closely resembling the shape of a popcorn. They're referring to the moment the missile goes "active" and scatters its cargo at the target. It's the usual telltale sign of the poppers as they are hard to pick up visually, because of their size and type of propellant, but also quite difficult to spot on most sensors.
As the description suggests, these types of missiles were deployed primarily against starfighters, but against a battleship?
No chance.
That being said—they were capable, at least to the minimum degree, to cripple a large variety of unarmored subsystems exposed to the vacuum of space. And this very much included the massive engines installed on this battleship.
<Vote Result: Get the Weapon Systems online>
= 1 Success and 4 Disadvantages
From the CIC, the crew could hear the point defense systems turn on, all fifty-six of them, as they began spitting out hot lead at varying directions. They engaged everything from the incoming popper missiles, Perusian interceptors, and harmless debris that drifted by. Everything was considered hostile.
"CIWS systems are operational Captain," one of the crewmembers on the Fire Control station says. "They're not operating at peak efficiency, but they're better than nothing."
"Good wo-" The ship rattled. Interrupting Sinclair as she spoke. Several of the popper missiles managing to score hits on the main engines.
"We just took hits on the stern sir," The damage control officer reported in quickly. "No breach, artificial damage."
Artificial damage. Just the nice way to say no holes yet.
"Tch." Sinclair's eyebrows furrowed and moved to pick up the command phone attached to the table. It rang once as she picked it up.
"Bridge."
"Engineering!" The man yelled on the other line. The sound of sparks and several damaged pipes can be heard seeping in the background.
"Status." Sinclair asked calmly.
"The explosion rendered one of the three main engines inoperable! We're checking the other two now before we proceed with the relighting!"
"How long will that take?"
"Six minutes sir! Eight if we take another hit!"
"You have four. Two if we do." She places the phone down until it clicked. Then she brought it back up and spoke. This time its connected to the ship intercoms.
"Hellion. Green for launch." Responding to the request to be launched several minutes prior. If another hit to the engines would render her ship permanently hindered, then she's not going to make it that easy.
She then placed the phone back down and looked up at the screen. Again, out of habit. "When am I gonna get some eyes?"
Sensor Tech: "Should be now Captain. Check screen."
Sinclair looked at a different screen and it displayed a static radar screen on a top down view. The middle blip displaying the battleship itself and the surrounding blips are either marked in U for Unknown or F for Fighter. Dashed lines protrude from the center screen to any of the tracked blips the ship sensors could detect.
"How many are we looking at?" She asked. Moving around the other side of the table to get a clearer view.
"Three—No—Four Perusian ships. Signatures match Cruisers and a Destroyers."
"Clear it up. I need to know what type they are."
"Aye Captain."
Comm officer: "They're hailing us again Captain. Sho-"
Sinclair moved away from the table and placed a hand on the shoulder of the Comm officer. "Message out on all Hedron frequency." She ignored the hail and continued, "Formidable dead in the water. Code Seven black. Send our coordinates."
Seven Black meant simply outnumbered and outgunned. Escape improbable.
The Comm Officer now turning back to his console and began inputting the proper format frequency. "They'll know we're calling for help. Are you sure about this Captain?"
GM/QM Note: Custom Options exist for each section. Fate Option, however, is separate.
Example of using one goes along like this: [X] Fate Point: One of the two main engines suddenly comes back online.
Options for Calling Help:
[] Yes ("Did I stutter?")
[] No ("My mistake. Delay that.")
[] Custom Option:
Options for Hellion Wing (Heavy Fighters):
[] Focus the Interceptors ("Yeee! Hiyah Yeee! We're comin' to getchu!")
[] Defense Duty ("Control, Hellion. Defensive Priority One, how copy?")
[] Harass Perusian Ships ("Hey? Why are we carrying bombs for?")
[] Spot for the main batteries ("Control, Hellion. Spotting Priority One, how copy?")
[] Custom Option:
Options for Maneuvering (limited):
[] Starboard Side towards the Perusian Fleet ("Starboard side, aye. Steady as she goes.")
[] Portside towards the Perusian Fleet ("Portside, aye. Steady as she goes.")
[] Evasive ("You're kidding right?")
[] Custom Option:
Options for Point Defense:
[] Non-restricted (Higher risk of Friendly Fire Incident, poor accuracy, but fast reaction time).
[] Limited (Lower risk of Friendly Fire, Higher Accuracy, but delayed reaction time).
[] Load HE shells ("Manual distance to target 6 to 9,000 meters!")
[] Load AP shells ("Manual distance to target 6 to 9,000 meters!")
[] Load Countermeasure shells ("Can't See Me Now" written on the side of a shell before being loaded into the tubes.)
[] Custom Option:
Options for V/SLS (Vertical/Side Launch Systems):
[] Load AFX Anti-Ship Torpedos (Several of the torpedo's have painted crossbones at the tip.)
[] Load Decoy Torpedos (Nothing substantial to note other than they look like actual explosive torpedos. Just have to make sure they're not mislabeled.)
[] Load Swarm Torpedos (They're like poppers, but stronger.)
Yes, he's right. They'll catch the signal and perhaps call for reinforcements themselves. Then again, why haven't they ramped up their attack? Four against one. Together they ca-
"Captain?" The Comm Officer looks up at Sinclair. Interrupting her train of thought. His headphone inaudibly garbles traffic around his neck. "I've tuned the frequency. I need your confirmation."
She grits her teeth. A decision needs to be made. Her ship is not combat ready and on top of that, outnumbered. Something in her gut tells her that these Perusian ships are using her as bait, to call in more Hedron ships and perhaps be destroyed altogether. And again, the poking doubt of "What if."
What if they don't come. What if they do. What if I'm wro-
Fuck.
<Vote Result: Yes for Calling Help>
= 1 Success and 1 Disadvantage
"Yes," Sinclair says in frustration. She didn't let that thought sort out itself completely. She makes her way from the comm station and back towards the table displaying limited information as to where she is and where the hostiles are at. Flashing blips and trailing dashes indicate detected explosions and tracking fast objects, presumably missiles or bullets. "Code Seven Black. Send our Authentication codes for verification."
"Aye Captain." And he went to work.
"Fire Control." Sinclair maintains her attention at the battlespace. It flickers from time to time. "Weapon status."
"Not ideal sir," Leon says as he clears his station of debris. Checking the cracked screens and monitors that surround his station. "Crew reports several nonfunctioning CIWS systems towards the aft. Caught in the explosion perhaps."
"Our guns? Operational?"
He laughs. Almost smiling as she says that. "Oh yes, sir. Very much so."
"This is going to be a protracted fight. Our engines are barely operational, and escape is nonexistent," once more listing out her situation she then pauses. "Status on the engines?" She asks.
The relevant officer responded to her request with an exhausted sigh. "Limited movement Captain. Engineering has yet to provide an updated status on the relighting process."
Sinclair shifts her position around the table. Glancing up at the various monitors that enclosed her space. A variety of information now being presented since the sensors are slowly coming back to life. "What I meant was can she turn?"
"Aye."
She reaches for the command phone once more located on the underside of the table. The intercoms beeped once. The ship goes silent for a moment then calmly she gave her order.
"Captain, Crew. Siege Stations."
Siege Stations. A command that is unique to warships designed with a sort of assault doctrine that used to be the mainstay course of the Hedron Navy for several decades. It was more of an all-out assault command rather than hunker down and take the damage, quite opposite of what the name implied.
Old Hedron battleships were designed to be brawlers so naturally the HMS Formidable was designed around this concept and is expected to excel in a protracted fight. However, against the newer models of ships of the line, it's a different story.
"I say again, Siege Stations. Lockdown in effect 20 seconds." The lights in the CIC goes dim as the power is diverted towards the main weapon systems: the five triple-mounted 20"/60 Type 99 naval guns. Currently stowed underneath the ship's armored hull and with about the same protection as the CIC.
<Vote Result: Countermeasure Shells>
"First salvo mark distance 10 for turrets one and two. Distance mark half for turrets three, four, and five." She's setting specific ranges in thousands of meters; for guns of these size, these are close quarters. "Prime for Denial Shells." Expanding gas shells filled with all assortment of sensor and visual denying properties. Newer types had the ability to reduce the capabilities of beam weaponry.
"Set on my mark." She places the phone down until it clicked. The entire CIC once more in a state of hectic mess.
Several of her command crew repeated her orders out loud. Stating the obvious fact and the matter of everything else which is said redundantly. But with the adrenaline coursing through one's veins in a combat situation, you often miss that obvious detail. It happens.
"Crew station decks seven through eighty sealed and confined. Sealing sev-"
"Siege Stations confirmed through noncritical walkways are—no, deck twenty is reporting malfunction. Check again-"
"Power to the elevators running. Hatches primed to open-"
They talked over one another and double-checked each other's status. However, they were largely unimportant. The chief station officers, however, are. They abandoned their normal postings and huddled around the holographic table. Sinclair is on the other end of the table with the command phone and pop-up screens. The usual spot of where the Captain resided in. Everything she needed was within arms reach and, at the very least, yelling level.
Most of the time, however, the chief officers spoke calmly and collectively. Panic and excitement are at a minimum. Slow is fast, fast is slow.
"Fire Control in… turrets one to.... all. Are functioning. They're reporting green across the board. Nominal at least." Says Leon, "I've received a notif that the tubes are functioning as well, Captain." Mentioning the various VLS systems: the torpedoes and missile bays.
She doesn't reply, but she takes note.
<Vote Result: Defense Duty>
"Status on Hellion?" Sinclair asks. She's organizing the information in a way presented to her by her Officers. To help her make an informed decision.
"They're alive," replies the Wing Officer. "Should I recall them in?"
"No. Set them to Defensive posture to my portside."
"Aye."
She continues, "Intercept priority to Perusian bulk busters." Perusian Torpedoes with armor-piercing crippling capabilities. Something to respectfully fear, "And intercept Perusian interceptors. Deny them a firing solution and just tell them to stay out of my way."
"Aye Captain." The Wing Officer brings up the phone on her side of the table and transmits the Captain's orders.
<Vote Result: Limited Stance>
"I also want the Point Defense systems on limited power, but also I want them hot." She says without glancing upwards from her screens. She's talking to the Fire Control Officer again.
"Aye, sir." Responded Leon.
<Vote Result: Decoy Torpedoes>
"Set Mini Me's on all tubes and on all vectors. The cloud should hide their appearance. At least keep the enemy torpedoes away." Regarding the Decoy Torpedoes in conjunction with the Denial Shells. Visually, it's just a torpedo, but internally its transmitting the sensor profile of the battleship. It's designed to confuse enemy missiles/torpedoes and hindering the enemy from gaining any proper firing solution via their own sensors.
"They'll know they're going to be decoys once they're fired, Captain." Points out of one of the other officers. "Should we at least set several of the tubes to a more offensive armament?"
"Negative. They're just going to shoot them down anyway. Fire Control."
"Aye?" Leon responded quickly.
"Send the trigger up here for the cannons. Helm."
"Aye?" Responded the Helm Officer.
<Vote Result: Portside>
"Turn her about – broadside portside. Anchor in." Sinclair and her staff stopped what they're doing and held on to the table via handles that protruded outward aesthetically from the table. Designed this way for combat maneuvers. A second later the ship began turning left towards the enemy.
Positioning the ship portside/starboard side during a battle is typical of a battleship frame. Main Cannon batteries are placed in the front and back, top and bottom. The front of the ship being where most of the weapons are located. In order to take advantage, the full use of weapons, the ship needs to expose either side towards the enemy. This brings many advantages and disadvantages. First and foremost, the profile is increased drastically which translates to higher hit ratio. However, this would allow battleship Captains to exchange fire with the use of its full armament—and with interest.
"Portside and Anchor, aye." Then his voices strains as the change vector commands were transmitted through his console screen. The ship's maneuvering thrusters began burning to the max to heave the thousand-ton mass object towards the enemy fleet.
"Steady… as… she… goes…"
Everyone onboard holding onto something as the ship made a small G maneuver. Then another burn to slow down as the ship stabilizes itself.
"Set."
Sinclair glances at her weapon statuses. Cannons, PD's, and Torpedoes are green. "Good. Pop the hatch."
The ship shook softly as the five heavy blast doors, from bow to stern, reeled open revealing its internal cargo. Each cannon weighed about 2,990 metric tons and the shells it held weighed just about the same, if not, more than the entire mount itself. The heavy elevators underneath propelled the mount upwards from the hull and exposed into the vacuum of space. From there it slowly turned towards the hostile combatants: The Perusian Ships.
Of course, they're not that daft to allow a Hedron ship to fire at them first. They'll take her down before she could.
"They're toned!" The sensor tech yelled out loud. The Perusian Ships stopped hailing and now decided to open fire. The target finders tripped the early warning sensor on the Formidable.
= 3 Successes (Perusian Ships)
Shortly afterward, several blue beams of light trailed from their cannons and careened towards the lone Hedron Battleship. The first salvo missed. Barely. Then with corrections, several of the other salvos from the Perusian ships made its mark.
It caused the battleship to shake violently as the plasma-based weapons seared into the armor plating and dealt its damage. The Point Defense Systems don't register the enemies cannon fire "legitimate targets" since they are not projectile based. But they did engage the pieces of scrap metal and armor plating floating by. In that regard, they work at least.
As the ship shook violently Sinclair held close to her console screens to keep her from losing balance. The other officers did as well.
"She can take it!" Leon says while gritting his teeth as he held on to the table. The screens overhead shook, and the information presented on them became garbled. "Fifteen seconds till alignment!"
"Decks twenty to thirty-two, venting atmosphere Captain!" The Damage Control Officer reported over the chaos. "Multiple energy fluctuations!"
"Temporary impairment of sensors." The Sensor Tech responds afterward, "It'll be a second till it stabilizes."
"Let me know when those sensors come back," says the Tactical Officer. "The signatures definitely match a single Perusi-…" The ship shakes once more. One of the screens dislodged itself and hang loosely behind the command staff. "-usian cruiser and three dest-"
"Hellion Wing is taking casualties," reported the Wing Officer. "Combat effectiveness down to 50%."
"Are the guns in position yet!?" Demanded Sinclair, impatiently, as she held onto something to keep her balance. The holographic table sizzled as the power fluctuated every time they took a hit. She's maintained her calm, to an extent, despite how grave their situation is spiraling.
Before long, another crippling hit. The sound of the ship's structural frame can be heard cracking and breaking, it can be felt. The Perusian Beam Cannons melted straight through the plate armor and seeped inwards into the innards of the battleship. Those who were lucky got vaporized, and those who weren't were sucked out into space.
"Five more seconds Captain!" Responded Leon.
"We don't have five more seconds!" Called out one of the officers.
The CIC alarms blared loudly. The combat lights, a mild yellow hue, flickered wildly as the ship shook upon every hit.
The hull begins to reverberate as the secondary gun batteries strewn across the portside began opening up. This meant that something has entered its max engagement range, most likely the Perusian Warship of course. Their accuracy was not something they're known for so it's best to assume they aren't going to really hit anything. She's seen better days.
"And…set!"
"First salvo!" Sinclair ordered.
The ship rocked. The combined firepower of six barrels from the front and back, top and bottom, simultaneously firing gave the ship a satisfying heave. Nothing was much more exhilarating than doing a salvo broadside. It is such a comforting feeling.
The 3,000 metric ton shells hurled through space. Its propellant still burning as it flew towards the Perusian fleet. A faint trail lagged behind them, taking several seconds before they detonated. Covering the entire area in a thick blanket of pink smoke and beam negating properties in a 90-degree arc at 10,000 meters.
"Second salvo!"
The ship rocks again as the remaining three turrets fired their shells. A much more powerful recoil than the last one. This time the distance is 5,000 meters and not only covered a wider area, but it was much thicker too.
The trailing rounds from the secondary gun batteries zipped in and out of the smoke, contorting its shape, but only helped spread the gas between the two parties. The Perusian beam cannons impacting the cloud gave the impression of a thundercloud in space. Its particles dissipating and arcing around the smokescreen. It rendered their weapons useless for the time being, but for how long?
"How long do we got?" Sighed Sinclair as she looks up at the screens above the table in a moment of reprieve. Again, out of habit. The ship weapons are still running active. They're safe for the most part until the Perusian ships either plow through the cloud or maneuvered around. All of which takes time. And its time they don't quite have a lot of.
"Should last for 5 minutes at best," answered Tactical. "It'll give us time to power up the engines and power the rest of our systems too. That is hopeful at best."
Not only that but once the engines are running the HMS Formidable would stop being handicapped; running off of auxiliary power means you can only do so much.
"And the SOS? Any answers?"
Comm Officer: "No answer to the SOS Captain."
"Let me know when we do get a reply. Fire Co-"
"Actually, hold on." The Sensor Tech Officer interrupts Sinclair as he leans towards his screen. "I'm detecting an anomaly bearing 2-2-0. 0-5-0."
The bearings in X and the bearings in Y from the ship. The bow (front) being the 0 for X horizontally and vertically for Y. This would mean the anomaly was in the vicinity to the bottom left of the ship.
"Define anomaly," Sinclair questions. Her eyebrow furrows and she curses. She's not used to not getting enough information on what is going around. For an enclosed ship, no windows of any kind, you are partially deaf and blind to what goes around.
"Not enough data to answer that Captain," the Sensor Tech stumbles with her words. "Most likely another ship."
"Perusian?"
"Most likely," says Tactical this time. He continues, "But with what I have to work with, it is just a flashpoint prediction. It's far too big to be anything but a flashpoint."
Every time ships enter and exit hyperspace, the speed, and energy dissipating from the start to finish "explode" outward in a brief blinding light. They call these events "flashpoints." It is the usual indicator of ships about to go above the speed of light and then going below it. Entering and exiting, never at.
Nonetheless, that alone made her heart drop. If she made a wrong call and turned out to be Perusian, she perhaps costed her ship, and all aboard it, their lives. Attracting more Perusian was the last thing she wanted. Attracting anything other than help is the last thing anyone wanted.
After a while, a blip appeared on the Sensor Tech's screen, about the same time Tactical called the flashpoint event.
"Gunnery crews are loading high explosive reactive shells Captain. Turrets two and three are turning to bearing 2-2-0-…"
"Wait…" Tactical interrupted.
"It's got to be another Perusian," one of them speculates. "We're far out in deep space. The chance of any Hedron assistance is slim. We hesitate now and it is over for us."
The truth of it all. It was much harder to swallow. Even Sinclair was unable to admit it to her crew, but it was still worth trying—hoping that is.
"Identify it," she ordered. "Then shoot it if it isn't ours."
No one contested the call. It is a risk, but it would suck even more if it turned out to be actually friendly that was fired upon.
After a while...
"I'm reading Hedron transponder codes."
Then a forced heartbeat from Sinclair. Then after a second of realization, she forces herself to come back. "A-authenticate."
"Stand by…"
The CIC, which was chaotic a moment ago, was now deathly quiet. The only sounds that could be heard are the shorting of equipment, the sparks, the rattling of gun batteries above and below them, and the heavy breathing. It was also uncomfortably hot.
"…Authenticated," Tactical finally says. "They're real sir."
"Channel," Sinclair says.
The CIC intercoms were filled with the sound of static. Radiation interference. And after a while, it clears up and was quiet as it once was.
"Formidable?" A man's voice echoed throughout the CIC.
No one replied despite everyone hearing a response.
Sinclair reaches for the command phone and takes the line.
<GM: Fate Point>
I rolled poorly and essentially was about to call in a ragtag band of frigates to help the Formidable. I decided it was uncool and being a critical moment, I enacted the Rule of Cool. Enjoy.
The man's voice continued, "Formidable, this is the Argonaut of the 9th Honor Battlegroup responding to your distress Code Seven Black. We were en route to the assembly area and we've managed to pick up your distress."
The HMS Argonaut is a recently commissioned Dreadnought for the Hedron Navy. Built and funded by Hexacron Shipyards, it is the pinnacle of Hedron power and ingenuity. Reaching lengths of almost 500 meters long and 150 meters tall, it is a ship capable of rivaling a small battle station. It is newer, stronger, and more powerful than the HMS Formidable; perhaps 50x more. She makes her look like a museum piece.
Sinclair clears her throat, "Argonaut, Formidable." She smiles as everyone in the CIC cheered loudly. "Aren't we glad to hear from you." A relieving sigh.
"Formidable, Argonaut. We are reading four Perusian warships just off your portside. We're moving in to engage with open batteries."
"Be advised Argonaut, we have been trying to restore engine power for the past half hour. We have sustained multiple damages. Once we get power running, we are immediately performing a random vector jump. Will advise coordinates on a much secure frequency. We are unsure if any Perusian reactive force is on their way as well."
She says this while pointing fingers at her officers to begin prioritizing main system revival. The CIC room, once more, enters a state of organized chaos.
"We'll buy you time," the Argonaut Captain says before it cuts out. Options:
[] Once the Engines are online, bring the Formidable about and reform with the Argonaut. Eliminate the Perusian forces and jump out. ("Change of plans Argonaut, with you here, we're fighting back.")
[] The Argonaut is buying time. Once Engines come back online, immediately jump out. ("Sector two seven seven. Vector 0-3-0, 2-3-6. Hope we don't hit a planet!")
Its six heavy MXL Titan Sublight engines glowed brightly from a red color to a blue hue, propelling the massive vessel forward into the fray. The triple-barreled cannons, which are essentially upgraded Type 99's, are placed on the top, sides, and bottom of the ship and began firing in an alternating sequence towards the exposed Perusian ships, just underneath the gas cloud. The armaments mounted on the Argonaut are much larger and bulkier than the ones mounted on the HMS Formidable. Which makes sense, to say the least.
In addition, just mounted far in the back of the Argonaut, just above the bridge, are two siege beam cannons a/k/a disintegrators. Reverse engineered by yours truly. Their intended function is against heavily fortified battle stations, at least on paper, but just imagine what it could do against a ship?
With that said, the fire rate of the Argonaut began to pick up in intensity. Each cannon was firing its shells at a rate of one per five seconds and each miss was recalculated for a more accurate solution. And this is just a constant state of fire. This allowed the gunnery crews onboard the Argonaut to reload and shoot and reload again just before it's their turn to fire.
The Perusians, of course, needed to readapt to the change of situation. The account of a Hedron Dreadnought appearing was possibly the worst outcome. They diverted some of their attention away from the Formidable and began firing a salvo at the new Hedron warship. Their beam cannons careened towards it and with a size that massive, how could they possibly miss?
= 1 Success
Several confirmed hits impacted the hull, but several of the shots have glanced elsewhere. Unlike the Bakara infused plating installed on the Formidable, it seems the Argonaut was provided a different material of armor. It had the properties of reactive armor, but they weren't explosive, and yet they were able to deflect Perusian Beam Weaponry?
Interesting.
Then with a command, the Argonaut began charging one of its siege cannons. A glowing yellow hue replaced its inert state, charging while turning towards one of the Perusian ships. In this case, a single Perusian destroyer.
This specific ship fell out of formation due to the intense suppressive fire the Dreadnought has been providing. Black scorch marks and holes can be seen throughout its entire left and right side of the hull. Some shots went clean through and exploded on the other side. The rest exploded inside, which is exactly what you want. Maximum damage.
You also can't quite "list" in space, but to describe the state of this destroyer it can be described as listing. Plumes of smoke can be seen fuming out from multiple breach holes and its engines began sputtering, ceasing to burn. Several crafts are detaching from the said vessel and "flashing" out from the engagement area. This can be safely assumed to be escape pods or shuttle crafts onboard.
Nonetheless, the siege cannon fired its shot at the destroyer. A single yellow beam emitted from the weapon and tore through the single destroyer like tin foil, and then continued for a bit out towards deep space. It split the ship in two rendering it destroyed. Fucked Up Beyond Any Recognition (FUBAR'd). Ironic to its classification.
Meanwhile, the rest of the Perusian fleet took evasive maneuvers to position themselves, in a way, to hide behind the gas cloud from the Argonaut but kept their assault against the Formidable.
"Decoys launching!" Reported Leon. "Scatter shot, five by twenty."
The V/SLS systems popped open their hatches via a simple system of compressed air and exposed their harmless cargo to the vacuum of space. What was inside is a slightly outdated countermeasure torpedo: a MK V SMEMD (Self-Maneuvering Echo Masking Device) a/k/a Mini-Me's.
"Scatter shot, five by twenty, aye," repeated the Sensor tech. Again, to point out the obvious because people usually miss out the obvious in these high tense situations. "Going active in ten seconds."
= 1 Failure and 2 Advantages
"We got swimmers!" Called out Tactical afterwards.
The sensor suite onboard the Formidable detected several launches from the Perusian fleet themselves. They are displayed as skinny red ovals with dash lines trailing behind them. No identification or anything that would suggest its "dangerous" in any sort really. At least, not against the ECM they're providing. They're robbing the Formidable crew of any valuable information that can be extrapolated from their actions.
Sinclair maintains her composure, leaning closely to her screens and glancing upwards from time to time. She hasn't said anything for a while as she lets the command staff do what they're trained to do. While she waits patiently for the engines to come back online. There is a time to command, but there is also time to plan your next moves and she is planning.
Sensor Tech: "I see them. They're scouting the clouds. Decoys are active, but I'm not sure they're going to do much against those things."
On the sensor screen(s) they ran around back and forth, left and right, as they weaved through the thick pink gas cloud left behind by the salvo shots earlier. The name "swimmers" is the common name given to them due to their predictable behavior, but they go by many other names like spotters or bugs. Their main purpose is to provide the Perusian ships accurate location and information of any ship(s) whereabouts in or out on the other side of the smoke.
Information is key in every engagement. Or so they say.
"Can we get the fighters on them?" Asks Tactical.
"No," replies the Wing Officer. "I'm not risking my boys on a blue-blue accident. Our PD's can't differentiate what's friendly and what's not at the moment. And besides. It's too risky. You go in that cloud and the next thing you know you're on the other side with the enemy."
The ship shook once more as the main gun batteries rattled the hull, delivering another salvo shot in the clouds hoping they'd hit a Perusian ship on the other end. Loaded with normal offensive shells, weighing heavier than the denials. Your standard problem solver: High-Explosive Armor Penetrating (HEAP) shells. Or just "yep" by the gunnery crews.
= 2 Failures and 2 Disadvantages
They trailed into the smoke, taking some of the spreading gaseous compounds with them. The advantage of projectile-based weaponry is that they're able to be shot through the cloud while the beam-based weaponry cannot. It was a light show for the Formidable crew as the Perusian Beam Cannons harmlessly disappear inside the cloud.
Shortly afterwards, the HEAP shells exploded. Bright yellow flashes can be seen emit on the other end. The gunnery crews receive a sort of "ping" when their shells explode and hoped they were hits but were far from that in reality. Rather, the explosions from the shells excelled the dispersion of the clouds. The consequence of which produced several gaps for the Perusian fleet to train their beam weaponry through.
As if on cue, the Sensor tech received early warning indicators from the hostile ships. Their target finders already peering through the gaps and are feverishly calculating for a firing solution.
"We're toned!" She reported.
Then the ship lurched forward suddenly.
The lights in the CIC grew brighter and many of the unresponsive consoles began to boot up. The screens above the command staff flickered to life, replacing the once static state they were in with more coherent information.
This drew a cheer around the room.
"Engines are online – stabilizing power fluctuations," reported engineering.
Sinclair finally smiles. More like a smirk really.
"Good," she says then takes a moment to breathe. "Helm, combat speed."
The Helm Officer takes control of the ship. Increasing the throttle just a little under its top speed. "Combat speed, aye, steady as she goes," he says.
<Vote Result: Reform with the Argonaut>
Sinclair picks up the command phone while holding onto her station. "Argonaut, Formidable," she calls out.
Argonaut responds, but this time it's the comms specialist onboard that answers the call, "Formidable, Argo. Send traffic."
"Change of plans Argonaut. My ship and crew are reaching battle ready status and are reforming off to your portside fo-"
The Captain of the Argonaut takes the call. Interrupting Sinclair, "Negative Formidable. You are to begin jump prep immediately. Send your jump coordinates and we will join you shortly."
"With all due respect sir. We can take them on here right now," retorted Sinclair. The ship shook violently once more as the warning system blared in the background. A hit was registered.
<Vote result: Young Age>
"I appreciate the confidence Commodore Evergreen," the Argonaut Captain replies calmly. "But your mission was not to engage any Perusian ships. You were to transfer the Formidable to Rear Admiral Ulric and await your station at the assembly area."
"My ship was interdicted sir," Sinclair corrected. "And I would be unable to jump safely while under fire from the Perusians. We would be exposed."
She continued, "We are reforming to your left flank and will provide supportive fire. From your bearing 2-7-0, 2-4-5."
Rather than argue on the command line the Argonaut Captain declined to contest the decision any further with the Formidable Captain. Now is not the time.
"Very well," he says. "Stand by for broadside fire off your starboard side. I've already sent my recon wing to spot for our cannons. Fire on my mark."
And with that, a click can be heard on the other end and Sinclair also placed her phone back down. She didn't deem her actions too "insubordinative," if you will. Then again, who would be able to tell her it was?
"Prepare to receive ship coordinates from the Argonaut," she says out towards her command staff. "Reform off to their port and prepare for a starboard broadside. Fire on their mark and recall all wings."
"Aye sir/captain," is the response she got from each of her officers.
The ship intercoms blared to life as Leon, the Fire Control Officer, spoke specifically to the gunnery crews.
"Tactical," Sinclair calls out.
At this point, the Tactical Officer is processing all of her previous orders and at the same time managing the now present battlespace.
"Aye Captain?" He says without looking up from his screens.
"Update on the enemy force."
Without missing a heartbeat, "One ship sunk and Three Perusian ships just off bulls mark 0-3-8, 0-0-5 and making their way eastward from bulls. At least from the last update I got from it."
Bulls is short for Bullseye. An imaginary fixed tactical focal point where any friendly force can regain or recapture their bearing to re-engage enemy contacts or call out new ones without trying to confuse your position with theirs.
He continued, "We have several active swimmers with eyes on us at this very moment and they are just outside of our engagement range for PD's. Enemy interceptors positioned just above the cloud to what I would imagine they are spotting us and the Argonaut as well—Uncontested might I add."
"Nothing we could do right now. Let them keep watching. Send your screen to mine."
"Aye."
Just above her, one of the screens that presented the overall status of her ship flickered to a different screen presenting an almost radarscope view of the area. The largest blip there could be assumed to be the Argonaut. Its massive ship signature itself could be the contributor to that, but also to its unrelenting cannon barrage. Next, the blinking red blips are known hostile or unknown objects last spotted, and they're just behind the smoke. Sometimes they become solid and then return to blinking or outright disappearing. Could be the ECM. Who knows?
She looks away from her screen and back to the table in front of her. Triangles and circles, physical play pieces, are placed in particular locations by the other crew members and are adjusted accordingly every couple minutes or so. All of them are marked with names on them to prevent confusion. It's a primitive and redundant system, but it's a very useful system.
"Captain," the Wing Officer calls out.
Sinclair looks up.
"Hellion has made it back on board. Only two."
She didn't react to the loss of the other two Hellion members, at least not externally showing it right now. God bless their souls.
"Good," she simply says, stoically. "Are we in position yet?" She refers to her Helm and Sensor Officer.
The ship slows down as the G-Dampeners, which are now operational, prevented anyone from feeling the effect. The engines are now resupplying the much needed power to noncritical systems and others who were deprived of it.
"We are now sir," said the Sensor Tech.
"Just waiting on the fire order from Argo," Leon says as he watches the numbers update themselves on his screen. The coordinates of the tracked ships from the spotters being relayed to him.
Then the comms officer, located in the outer area in the CIC near the communication consoles, called out to her over the talking and yelling, "Captain! Command line!"
She reaches for the phone and brought it up to her ear.
"Formidable," she says.
"Formidable, stand by for starboard barrage," the Argonaut Captain commanded.
Without letting go of the phone she looks to her Fire Control Officer and gives a nod, "Aye. We're with you Argo."
"Torpedoes spotted!" Called out the Sensor Tech. Tactical later confirmed them on the scope. "They're heading straight for the Argonaut!"
Several torpedoes exited the gas clouds and were heading straight for the Argonaut. Her point defense systems were kept offline, but again, they weren't needed in the first place. Until now, but it was too late.
The Formidable's point defense systems were kept online and at this distance they attempted to engage the torpedoes, but it was a fruitless attempt.
"Argonaut, advise evasi-" Sinclair suggested before being interrupted. Assuming she never knew about the Argonaut's defensive systems.
"Formidable. Stand by while w-" then static.
The explosion could be felt from the Formidable and even from the distance they were at. They definitely hit the Argonaut. They were definitely Bulk Busters. One hit was all it took to sink one Hedron ship and the effects were devastating. If the Argonaut can survive one, and that is one big if, then surviving a second one is very slim. Let alone an entire salvo of them.
Silence fell in the CIC aside from the low hum of the PD's above and below going off time to time. The massive green blip that was on the radarscope disappeared and reappeared, blinking. The Argonaut is deemed missing from the sensors. As such it was safe to assume she was sunk.
"Argo. Come in," Sinclair calls out.
No answer.
"Sensor. Tactical. I need eyes."
Sensor Tech: "Getting severe interference. No status on the Argonaut."
Tactical: "Receiving the same. Can't get a clear picture."
Tch.
"Can we get any of the other wings to respond?" She asks the Wing Officer next.
"That's a negative Captain, can't contact them at the moment," the Wing Officer replies. "Should I launch a fighter?"
"Ye-"
Wait…What was that?
Sinclair brings the phone closer and listens intently.
"Er- no. Prep search and rescue, but no launch without my go," she quickly says.
As she listened the transmission shifted slightly from the heavy static. Brief pieces of words can be heard/pieced together. "…ormi… rn… ire…"
"Argonaut, Formidable. I cannot understand you. Say again."
"…ire…n…ark…" The interference is still heavy.
She pulls the phone away and calls out to the Comms Officer, "Clean up the line!"
"I'm working on it Captain!" He replies back.
"I can't… believe it…" Tactical says, dumbfoundedly.
Sinclair looks at him and then up on the screen that she is sharing with. The Green blip that was blinking became solid once more. That would mean the Argonaut's signal, its presence is still intact. She hasn't been sunk.
She couldn't believe it either. She brings the phone back to her ear and once more asks, "Argonaut, state your status."
The line remained heavy in static. She can hear the first word, but the rest is drowned out in white noise. It was frustrating. And then she heard it.
Formidable… Green…
It took me a bit to come up with an idea that would seem fitting for this and at the same time have a sort of satisfying end to the chapter. At the same time, I also wanted to end the prologue/interdiction chapter as soon as possible. There are no choices for this at the moment, but the next one will have them. I hoped you enjoyed this post and expect a new one coming about.
I took the time to get some inspiration from other "questers," if you will, and will apply some of those ideas to the coming chapter. Get some pictures up and running and the like. Reeeeeeeee.
25 June 0124
Hedron Western Mobile Command "The Cog"
Global Cluster IC0620996
Hedron Space Reckless
Sinclair says to the Admiral, who seemingly was trying to find the right word.
"Yes," he says. "Reckless."
Sinclair is currently reporting to High Admiral Kelling Baram who, in some specific respect, commands the entire western quadrant of Hedron space and that includes this very space station.
The Hedron space station, also known as The Cog, doubles as a mobile HQ for the western Hedron fleets and a shipyard that both produces and refits. Without one of these massive space stations, the lifeline of any fleet is drastically reduced to within thirty to forty lightyears. With one, however, that number is in the hundreds.
The office of Admiral Kelling is located within the center spine of the station, just below the spiraling disc above, glistening with numerous hangar bays and batteries that would contest any fleet willing to bite. The overall décor of his office is with some taste, preferably some interest in old Hedron antiques and paintings. One of them being himself, somewhat larger than the rest of the paintings in the room and is quite difficult not to notice. Possibly a bit of a narcissist, who knows?
Just like any office, it comes with a desk. They always have a desk—a nice looking one too. Made from real wood and slathered in various ornaments and jewelry; if given some thought it would make one's pocket feel a little emptier. Placed on top of this desk is a simple holographic computer with various memorabilia's and what would seem like to be a globe of Hedron herself. Its surface shifts time to time to its present Terran landscape, complete with animated oceans and shifting trees, from its old volcanic surface, covered in magma and charred islands. This was what Hedron use to be until the Golden Age.
"I'm not exactly sure what to do with you Commodore," he says, leaning back in his chair. "You've damaged a ship you were entrusted to deliver. Which you did deliver."
Yes, sir, I did.
"Except it was delivered not in its pristine state."
Pristine? Hardly.
Sinclair would shift her attention momentarily out to a heavily reinforced window that oversaw one side of the entire space station, and the many ships that are docked in her protruding arms. As the spine of the station slowly rotated, the view of HMS Formidable came into view. Sparks and flashes of light resembled the repairs and refits she is currently undergoing, and various sizes of cargo were being taken in and out of her. The HMS Argonaut, on the other hand, a massive sprawling dreadnought, can just be seen casually drifting in the distance with several supply ships docked on her starboard side. Her size prevents her from docking with the station personally. Even if she did there would be problems attempting to stay in orbit for both the station and the ship. So, for now, drone tenders can be seen ferrying cargo in and out of the many auxiliary hangar bays she has, the orange formation lights cycling back and forth like a bicycle chain in and out of them.
Admiral Kelling continued, "And couldn't have been delivered at all if Vice Admiral Roy wasn't so happened to be traveling nearby. And even yet, with a Captain with no recorded combat experience, here she is. Sitting in the dock with several battle scars to prove her name—Formidable."
He leans forward and rolls his chair towards his desk. Opening a drawer and retrieving himself a cigarette and a lighter. Placing the cig between his lips and lights it, drawing a breath before exhaling it through his nose with a sigh.
"You've managed to sink two Perusian ships within the first few days of commanding a battleship. With severely outdated weapons and systems, tactics as well nonetheless. And the loss of life was kept to a minimum."
Minimum, she thought. She hasn't slept since the encounter. Even after personally participating in the search and rescue efforts. There were far too many that were lost.
The sound of Kelling tossing his lighter on his desk brought her back from that scene.
"So," he says lastly. "What do you want?"
She raised an eyebrow, "Pardon? Sir?"
"I'm impressed," he says. "I doubt Admiral Ulric would be, however. That ship was going to be his and I can't be giving him a ship with several holes in it. It would be bad for my image."
"Was? Sir?" The confusion seemed to stack on Sinclair.
Kelling rolled his eyes and stood from his chair. He makes his way around the desk and sits on top of it by leaning back. He gets comfortable as he takes one more drag of his cigarette before placing it back in the ash tray.
"Look. Sinclair," he looks into her brown eyes. The tone and atmosphere suddenly shifts. "Delivering the ship was, sort of, part of the mission. True. There was the other part we didn't tell you."
She cocked her head slightly and furrows her eyebrows.
"And by delivering it safely, despite the odds stacked against you, we can finally proceed with the operation. We didn't expect any Perusian ghost fleets lurking daringly close in Hedron space and we were sure the information of its delivery was kept strictly confidential."
He crosses his arms and looks down briefly before looking back up. "So, what do you want?"
Without missing a beat. "Some sleep," she says with a straight face. "Sir." Can't forget about honorifics.
He chuckled, "Granted. What else? Anything?"
"Her."
"Her?"
"Yes, her."
They both looked out the window towards the ship undergoing repairs: HMS Formidable.
"Her?" He says one more time.
"Yes, sir. Her." Sinclair says, confirming.
Kelling couldn't help but smile and laugh, "No can do."
You said anything you f-
"I will give you 'her' in one condition," he interrupted her vulgar thought.
<Vote Result: Young Age>
<Vote Result: Presence>
As she was about to ask what, Kelling reached behind him and pressed a button somewhere on his computer. The window that overlooked the rotating shipyard was suddenly replaced with a blank screen and several dots that blinkered in the center. It was a pending call, but to who?
"Admiral Kelling?" A man is seen standing with another naval officer overlooking a datapad before being dismissed temporarily. The surrounding background, at least what could be seen, resembles a bridge of some sort.
"Ah, Admiral Roy!" Kelling says as he stands up from his desk. Approaching the window slightly leaving Sinclair still to face the painting of Kelling in parade rest.
"Need something?" Roy says, with a slight tinge of annoyance.
"Yes. Well. No," Kelling clears his throat and gestures towards Sinclair. "Commodore Sinclair here will be assigned onboard your ship as your temporary XO. As I can recall from your most recent report your previous XO was, unfortunately, KIA during the last engagement." Kelling made sure to emphasize the KIA part for Sinclair. For reasons.
He continued, "So as of this moment, her station will be onboard the Argonaut until the Formidable is fit for duty once more. And I would imagine no one much more fitting to be your XO than the one from the Formidable. Just temporary." He says that with a sarcastic grin.
"Are you sure that is the wise decision High Admiral Kelling?" Roy made the "high" part much more distinct. Normally you don't say the High in High Admiral, they're all Admirals.
Kelling noticed he must've hit a nerve with the XO comment. So perhaps not just a narcissist maybe a bit sociopathic as well?
"It is. I'll make the arrangements soon. She'll see you onboard." And with that, the call ends.
Narrative Options:
[] Accept
[] Refuse
Options for the Formidable:
[] Keep and Upgrade the Battleship Classification ("Oh yes sir! More guns! Powerful guns! More armor! Tougher armor!")
[] Refit into a Battlecruiser Classification ("Dump the armor, exchange it for speed! Hit fast, hit hard!")
[] Refit into a Battlecarrier Classification ("Too small for a carrier, but lightly armored for a battleship. Get the best of both worlds but doesn't excel in either field.")
20 June 0124
PCNS Icarus
Global Cluster IC0620996
Ambush Point Bravo Hits!
The bridge roared into cheers. The salvo of torpedoes score square into the dreadnought and the surrounding gas cloud dispersed away. Metal pieces and fragments harmlessly chattered on the hull of the cruiser as mere tick and tacks. The onslaught of beam fire lulled into silence on a mere command. Now all that is left is to watch the massive fireball dwindle down to see the fruits of their labor.
"Tactical, zoom." Captain Liam commanded.
Sweat formed off his brow as he adjusted his cap. The bridge room remains extremely hot as the constant flux of beam fire took its toll on the ship ventilation systems. "Space Ovens" is what the Perusian navy calls their ships time to time.
The bridge's lights around the command crew remain a dark red hue as the panel screens in front of the Captain shift their colors to the cameras outside of the ship. The bright explosion slowly morphed in size and shape as the screen zoomed in and out, trying to find the best focus before remaining still.
"Trying to clear the picture Cap'n," the Perusian Tactical Officer says. "Five seconds."
The colors shift once more. Infrared, Ultraviolet, X-Rays, etc. Each one flickered as the officer attempts to find the best resolution to see if the dreadnought was indeed confirmed sunk. Then it remained still.
Liam stood up from his seat and takes a step forward. He glances behind him then gestures once more towards the Tactical Officer, "Focus." He saw something that didn't look right. He feels it in his gut.
Just as he commanded the camera focused forward. Everyone can see what appears to be a communications relay sticking out. Then as the fire and smoke dwindled down, more of the superstructure became visible. Then he could see the bridge. Several figures moving around behind their reinforced window panels except one figure standing still. Liam can clearly see the type of uniform the man is wearing and his posture and the direction he is looking—at him.
The ship didn't sink… that's impossible…
"Captain!" yelled one of the Officers. "Getting locked! Orders?!"
Liam glances from the dreadnought, who absorbed an entire barrage of the torpedoes, to the HMS Formidable. She hovered just above and off to the left of the dreadnought. Still alive.
The mission failed and the only thing that's screaming at him now is to run. Run like hell.
"Run…" he mutters. Stumbling back once.
"Say again Captain?" a nearby officer asks.
He inhales and forces himself to focus. Focus on the present. Still alive and that is what matters. He needs to save his fleet, or what's left.
"Turn her about! Flank Speed! Issue a retreat!" he walks backs to his chair and sits down. He begins reorganizing the information presented to him from his seat.
The entire bridge, which was silent moments ago, spurred back to life. Organized chaos it was.
"High priority message from the Icarus," says the Comms Officer. "All ships disengage and retreat-"
"Incoming fire!" calls out Tactical. Several flashes of light can be seen from the Hedron ships, like a domino effect, from bow to stern.
Glowing balls of light careened towards them. Within a second several of the balled lights flew past the camera and another second went by and the ship shook violently. Explosions can be felt outside and inside the ship as the lights around the bridge flickered on and off.
"Sustained damage! Turrets two and four are offline!" reported the Damage Control Officer. "Speed reduced by fourteen percent efficiency!"
It shook again and several of the panels nearby blew open, starting several fires. The ship hasn't completely vented out all the charges from the weapons and now its backlashing through the system.
"Random vector jump!" ordered Liam. "Now!"
The sound of the jumpdrive spooling can be felt, vibrating from bow to stern. This should not be confused with the common hyperdrive system on most starships. Jumpdrive is a method of instantaneous travel, hyperdrive is not. And hyperdrives are safer and efficient, jump drives—are not.
As an emergency measure onboard all Perusian ships, and as per protocol, a jump drive is a one-way escape method with a pre-selected coordinate in space. By pre-selected coordinate—any coordinate that isn't a celestial body. Jumping inside any sort of material spells bad news for anybody, but then again it works, or it doesn't. In the end, it doesn't matter.
The Perusian Cruiser begins bellowing out smoke from its many holes in its hull. Several more rounds pierced inside and exploded. Others went through and through and exploded shortly after. Glancing shots can be seen, further contorting the once perfect contour of the ship, denting and cratering the craftsmanship of the Perusian shipbuilders.
The soft hum of the drive now begins to reach its climax. A bubble begins to slowly project itself and envelop the ship. As for the other two surviving ships, they too begin to perform their jump prep. One of them begins to slowly lurch forward in front of the flagship. It's a Perusian Destroyer and it begins to take the brunt of the barrage coming from the Hedron ships that were meant for the Icarus. The name Hermes can be seen glistening in gold off the side of its hull despite being covered in blast marks and holes. It continued firing back at the Hedron dreadnought and the HMS Formidable, severely overpowered, but it defiantly stood its ground—fearless.
Liam quickly takes note of this.
"Comms!" he yells. Holding onto his chair as he looks at the screens projecting the visuals outside of the ship. "Tell that-"
"Fleet Captain Liam," a female voice projected itself through the ship's intercom, eerily calm despite the current situation.
He knew what she was doing. He was powerless to stop her. "What are you d-"
"My duty Captain..." she says stoically. "Long live Perusia… Long live the Confe-"
Several more shells meant for the Icarus was absorbed just in time by the Hermes. Shells that were meant to seal her fate.
"No!" Liam exclaimed, but it was too late.
The Hermes begins to expand and contort. The explosion inside unable to be contained as the riveted armor plating begins to buckle and bulge under the immense pressure. The engines were the first to give away, separating from the ship before the chain of explosions worked its way to the bridge of the Hermes.
"Jumping!" reported the Tactical Officer.
Liam stood from his seat and the scenery changed within a snap of a second. Replacing the view of the Hermes and the barrage of Hedron gun batteries to a view of a beautiful blue and purple nebula, making the entire event before surreal.
The stars in the nebula twinkled and intermingled.
Except for one.
One bright flash before it faded to nothing.
15 July 0124
PCNS Icarus
Global Cluster IC0620996
Unknown Ping!
The ship's distress beacon echoed throughout the hull, in between the dark corridors and dimly lit rooms. In between the bulkheads separating the atmosphere of the ship and the vacuum of space.
Ping!
The once proud Perusian cruiser now remains adrift in space, still and silenced. Ice and other spaceborne nuisance clung to her open wounds, seeping around the crevices which further adds to its miserable and defeated appearance.
Ping!
The ship creaked and moaned as the temperature and atmosphere difference throughout the different decks expanded and contracted the ship material. The various metal braces that held her spine and the various organs that now are lifeless; the anti-matter reactor being the heart of the ship and the bridge being the brain.
Ping!
Perusian Captain Liam is found to remain in his command chair. Every breath he made clung and hung around him, foggy and cloudy, icy in appearance. He rarely moved and breathed only when his body begged for air.
He continued to lean on one of his arms, staring into the metal wall in front of him where the holographic glass screens would be. The various stations around him are empty, the seats of where his officers and staff would be occupying. The lights that illuminated the entire room only projected darkness, even the auxiliary lights refused to even flicker.
It has been a total of twenty-five days since the battle: Ten solar days' worth of attempting to repair the ship, five solar days' worth of waiting for help, five solar days' worth of bickering and infighting, and lastly five long and quiet days of just mere silence.
Food supplies and backup rations ran low, most of them were jettisoned out into space due to some sharpshooter of a gunner. Water, the most precious commodity, was sapped dry two days ago, those desperate attempted to drink contaminated water that has been cycling through various subsystems found themselves to be deathly sick. Disease further added to the chaos and desperate measures had to be enacted for the sake of the majority.
Ping!
The other surviving Perusian Destroyer, the PCNS Polaris, has yet to respond to the secure long-range frequency set beforehand. Even with it, she also refused to respond on unsecured frequencies, so it isn't far to assume that the Polaris was also sunk during the escape. In addition, since launching the distress beacon one week ago, no one has responded to it. Not one.
Everyone knew the risks when they partook on this operation. The chances of survival were slim, but yet with an option to end the war right then and there it was too good to pass up—but the chance slipped. The Formidable survived and the secret it possessed or passed on, now begun to spell the doom for the Confederacy. No—for mankind.
Ping!
Footsteps can be heard from the hallway outside the bridge. The metal tune clinked with the boots and then a knock from the bridge door.
This shook him from his trance. Turning his head, a bit towards the door, before returning his focus to the wall in front of him.
"Come in," he says, quietly.
Since a majority of the power, along with the reserves, were redirected to life support and critical systems, manual operation of even a simple sliding door was a mundane task.
"Cap'n?" a man calls out after heaving the door open.
Liam slowly stood from his seat and turns around wearily. Taking a moment to identify who called him. "Oh… its Li."
Li gave a cheerful grin despite it being awfully dark. He's the Tactical Officer of the Icarus and a friend to Liam. Having no one nearby it permits casual conversation between the two.
"Majority of the crew have entered the cryotubes," he reported quietly. "Was doing the last rounds around the ship before entering myself. Figured you'd be up here."
"Yeah, was just… trying to see what I could've done differently."
A nod between both of them.
"Yeah… but what happens-"
"Happens." Liam finished the sentence. He gave off a saddening smile, not that his friend could see it on his face.
Silence once more before Li spoke again, "Look, Liam. She wa-"
"I'll… I'll need several more moments and I'll make my way down Li," he says. He didn't want Li to finish that statement. "I'll run another check on the signals and put one more entry in the log."
A terrible lie.
Li didn't want to push the matter any further. "Of course. You… take care of yourself, Liam. I'll be in the freezer."
A soft chuckle between both of them.
"Yeah."
And with that Li left the bridge and left the door closed halfway. His boots can be heard slowly disappearing down the hallway before it was silence once more. The creaking of the hull and the ping of the beacon was all the comfort Liam was left with.
A soft sob came from the bridge. And then another. And then another.
Ping!
Salutations - I kind of wanted to try something new and throw in a perspective of the Perusians. Took me a while to think of how I was going to introduce them in the story and what I was going to plan for them. They're not here to overrule Sinclair's story but rather enhance it. If anything, you could just skip reading the Perusians side entirely and just focus on Sinclair's, vice versa. They are optionless, but it should give a sense that the world/universe is more dynamic than one would think.
A follow-up post from Sinclair's side will be coming shortly. The voting is still open till I get it out.
= 1 Success and 4 Disadvantages
= 1 Success
