Blood, Sweat, and Tears (WH40k Design Bureau)
- Thread starter DaLintyGuy
- Start date
- Sci-Fi
Alright, most things should be updated in the Naval Intelligence and Current Technology threadmarks.
Oof. That Dauntless that Bagalog captured and repaired is a beast. I'm guessing that the 'explorator' helped outfit it with some good stuff.
Fruit of Wrath, Dauntless-class Light Cruiser
-Lance 5, Long Range (Prow)
-Battery 4, Medium Range (Broadside)
-Armor 6
-Shield 8
-Accel 3, Maneuver 3
Also, We really need a medium ranged battery weapon.
I... think we need to replace the repair bay with engines.
In comparison if I've got the numbers right:
Audacity class Light Cruiser
-Lance 3, Long Range (Prow)
-Battery 5, Short Range (Broadside)
-Armor 5
-Shield 6
-Accel 1.5, Maneuver 1.5
Yeah. I think we need to give the cruiser another engine instead of the repair bay.
Fruit of Wrath, Dauntless-class Light Cruiser
-Lance 5, Long Range (Prow)
-Battery 4, Medium Range (Broadside)
-Armor 6
-Shield 8
-Accel 3, Maneuver 3
Also, We really need a medium ranged battery weapon.
I... think we need to replace the repair bay with engines.
In comparison if I've got the numbers right:
Audacity class Light Cruiser
-Lance 3, Long Range (Prow)
-Battery 5, Short Range (Broadside)
-Armor 5
-Shield 6
-Accel 1.5, Maneuver 1.5
Yeah. I think we need to give the cruiser another engine instead of the repair bay.
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On the plus side, do any of the Bagalog ships have any PD whatsoever? Because currently it looks like a decent carrier fleet would eat them for breakfast.
Sir_Travelsalot
Never wakes up tired.
- Location
- At Home
Fairly sure IN ships come with it as standard.
Right, the Dauntless should have PD. Strictly speaking you maybe shouldnt know any of its stats but eh, whatever. Can't hide something like that for long.
- Location
- Seattle, Washington
My only objection is I still think we should build 4 torpedoes instead of 2 torpedoes. Aside from that, I think the plan is pretty good.
Next turn, we should consider making some lower quality ships as back line patrol ships, IE corvettes with macrocannons mk1 and haptrix pattern shields, because I feel like we need another patrol squadron. That or produce enough warrior mk2 corvettes to move all resolutes to patrol squadrons, and then move our armed merchants to a trade protection squadron
Hang on, we can't do this. You're trying to spend 85M on the cruiser this turn. Also, if we do the double engines we won't be able to fit the improved armor, unless it's only 3M base, which seems a bit unlikely. What we could do would be to move the lances to turrets in the omni slot and put torpedo launchers in the prow, giving the Audacity a brutal escort-thinning opener. That would have the same total cost as the repair deck, so we'd still be good for armor modules costing up to 4M.
Furthermore, I'd like to keep the plasma turret on hand until we research plasma lances.
Also, I really don't like how far you've cut down diplomacy spending. It was already bare-bones, but 15M is verging on insulting. Actually, I think we should consider dropping one of the warriors and putting the manufacturing towards a couple more monitor refits and diplomacy.
Also, @DaLintyGuy, you haven't threadmarked my Trench-class design.
Link me to the post if you would, please.
A couple techs for next turn:
[] S-3 Intruder: The S-2 Interloper met performance goals (if only just), but at a prohibitively high cost. More than one admiral was heard to remark that "at that cost, we might as well use Furies". Upon review, much of the fighter proved to be badly overengineered, as though it were a warship writ small and not a fighter writ large. A fighter meant to be deployed for a day at the outside has no need for a real atmospheric reprocessor; an oxygen tank and a CO2 scrubber will do the job for a fraction of the cost and mass. Similarly, a tightly-sealed chemical toilet is perfectly adequate for short-term use. Cutting back on such systems will impact crew comfort, but the financial and mass savings are more than worth it. Additionally, the fuel tanks can be reduced in size with a combination of more fuel-efficient engines and a willingness to coast on long trips through empty space rather than powering ahead at full burn.
[] Plasma shell manufacturing, redux: As theological debate continues within the halls of the Mechanicus, some magi have begun work on a way to sidestep the issue. Most of the parts required to build a plasma reactor are no great secret; these could be sourced from elsewhere. If production of the critical remaining pieces and final assembly could be fully automated, production of thermo-cavitation shells could be completed in-house with only nominal oversight. The precision required to manufacture even the less sensitive parts of plasma reactors may be above what Calavan industry is accustomed to, but it should still be well within reach.
[] S-3 Intruder: The S-2 Interloper met performance goals (if only just), but at a prohibitively high cost. More than one admiral was heard to remark that "at that cost, we might as well use Furies". Upon review, much of the fighter proved to be badly overengineered, as though it were a warship writ small and not a fighter writ large. A fighter meant to be deployed for a day at the outside has no need for a real atmospheric reprocessor; an oxygen tank and a CO2 scrubber will do the job for a fraction of the cost and mass. Similarly, a tightly-sealed chemical toilet is perfectly adequate for short-term use. Cutting back on such systems will impact crew comfort, but the financial and mass savings are more than worth it. Additionally, the fuel tanks can be reduced in size with a combination of more fuel-efficient engines and a willingness to coast on long trips through empty space rather than powering ahead at full burn.
[] Plasma shell manufacturing, redux: As theological debate continues within the halls of the Mechanicus, some magi have begun work on a way to sidestep the issue. Most of the parts required to build a plasma reactor are no great secret; these could be sourced from elsewhere. If production of the critical remaining pieces and final assembly could be fully automated, production of thermo-cavitation shells could be completed in-house with only nominal oversight. The precision required to manufacture even the less sensitive parts of plasma reactors may be above what Calavan industry is accustomed to, but it should still be well within reach.
Keep in mind that our Courantes are going to start phasing out our escort carriers too, so those are going to start filling spots in the patrol squads as well.
Officer Exchange, Bagalog (reward: Good Fences)
It's been a while, true, but the report about the Bagalog fleet made me wonder what the otherside of that exchange was like.
Report from Bagalogian Officer, first Year.
Gunnery Officer Moonyen ponder what to write in her report as she bit down on her writing stick. It was a solid block of crystal ink that melted with friction but not heat, which made for a surprisingly tidy writing implement. At normal atmospheric pressures, high heat would just make it evaporate into C02 which was handy as all you needed to erase or correct yourself with it was heating pads. It was a local product sold to bureaucrats and officers like herself, and could be found wherever there were Calavan business men and women around, which was basically wherever their troops were. In many ways, the black cylinder was much like the Calavan Navy; Surprisingly primitive in many ways but simultaneously and surprisingly sophisticated.
In the start of the 10 year stint aboard the only regional opponents that anyone in Bagalog could call "friendly"....or "worthy" for that matter, the woman who had served in the patrol vessels around her home world and then aboard one of the handful of Hatchets in the Home Force against the deserters could honestly say that her experience was unlike anything she had ever experienced. As it regarded her motivations, one of the sad facts of the Bagalogian navy was that it was slow to expand. There were certainly many Cartels flying the patrol fleets and providing the important velvet padding around the core ships that formed it's Iron gauntlet, but it had been clear from the beginning that not all officers were made equal and that a high Rating in an Armed Merchant was not even the equivalent of a low one in even the Hatchets that she flew on. Captains, being Captains, were all given a captain's respect even if they had their own pecking order but those below that, those not protected by the propriety that everyone believed the lords and masters of their piece of Emperor granted "domain", were treated as what they actually were: Inferior.
It was not a deliberate snubbing or even humiliation, but simply an outgrowth of the cruel but honest trade wars that the Home Force had grown out of. And in those you either rated or you didn't. The men and women she had helped burn in the void back then was testament enough for that. So her post of Gunnery Officer aboard the Unsubtle Cut seemed to many like the end of a long life unattainable dream. The height of an impossibly tall mountain. But Moonyen saw it for what it was; A small peak tall enough to witness the base of a mountain range. Simply put, her ambition couldn't, and wouldn't, end at where she was.
It just so happened that being good at being a Gunnery Officer would no longer be enough for her to climb.
So to say she had jumped at this chance would not have been much of an exaggeration. The intelligence that she was gathering as one of the Exchange Officers was basically the only way that she could so to keep climbing.
"I wish I had an auto-diction," She muttered to herself, the conveniences of the Courante she was aboard on seeming slight in comparison to Bagologian ships. Oh, the writing sticks were basically the best writing utensils she had ever actually used, but she honestly expected to never have to use a writing utensil ever again after she had made it to a proper officer in an actual warship. Point in fact, integration of the Brotherhood of Mars could hardly be seen in the, and she still couldn't believe that anyone was trying this, frigate carrier. Or at least, in comparison to proper Bagalog ships. She had of course scoffed at this until the Courante had made port in Calavar and she realized it was likely because they had spread all their Techpriests across all their fleet.
Their frankly enormous fleet.
They almost had as many ships as the Deserters did, and that was just in their offensive squads. Unlike the cowards in Gehault, they didn't commit their best assets to defend their holdings opting instead to use their best to bleed the enemy. Their patrol squads suffered in quality in comparison, but even then they had enough ships to outfit to multiple squads. And unlike the Home Force of Bagalog, the offensive squadrons was almost all proper warships.
In comparison to Bagalog, even their Long-arm and Indomitable fell behind impressive though they were. But Calavar did not have any fodder as Bagalog did. Every single ship of theirs was a serious danger. One more opponent to keep in mind rather then just squat aside. This combined impressively with the first impression that she ever got sailing on the Courante she had been posted on. And that was the speed.
After the tenuous peace that had been rammed down the deserter's throats had taken place, a lot of the navy personal had taken interest in the ships that Calavar had brought. The Resolutes they already had some information on from the reports that merchants brought from time to time and they had all seen the little escort carrier that Yttreum was so proud of. Tales of their success against the Ork, Xenos and traitor had all dripped through commerce, and even the bitter realization that Bagalog's manufacturing abilities which were only starting to be enough to just start doing some of the same when the Sovereignty War with Gehault exploded hadn't stopped them from realizing that what they saw simply couldn't be all there was. Calavar had been able to supply six actual warships to negotiate the peace while, the Calavan officers implied, being able to engage in other fronts.
Not front, fronts.
Being the most impressive ship in that fleet, they had requested one officer in the Courante in the negotiations for the Officer Exchange. They had made postings in the Home Force's actual warships available in exchange and so now here she was trying to see the truth about the matter. And after she had been welcomed aboard, shown her quarters and given her schedule to get familiar with her command chain and station, she had expected being able to have about a week to get familiar with things before they warped back to the Calavan "home".
It had taken them 3 days to disengage into a safe enough distance to begin the otherworldly transit.
The inertial dampers in the ship didn't actually allow one to feel the acceleration, but a little bit of worry about being unable to familiarized herself before being expected to perform under training could not undercut the outright wonder at seeing this hulking escort travel at twice the speed of her ex-Corvette.
And they all except their escort carriers traveled at that speed. A fleet full of fast ships! Well, at least by Bagalogian standards.
The next thing that had really impacted her and almost given her a heart attack was the shields. The strangest damned shields she had ever come across, and that was with Orks were thrown in the mix. The first time they had run across a particularly rough patch of asteroids, the first layer was overloaded after about 3 hours of constant travel through them. The subtle "snap" that reverated through the whole hull was much quieter then she was used to, but decades of ingrained instincts immediately recognized.
Shield down.
She had been profusely embarrassed when the boys under her command had explained that it was merely the first layer in an array of multiple layers that had gone down and that it would quickly regain strength before the other ones could even start to be overloaded and that they were not, point in fact, in danger. Sure enough, no sooner had they explained things and the pleasant hum that came with the reemergence of the shield echoed in the halls. Her muscles loosened from stress she didn't know she had and she had to endure yet another round of laughter from the people manning the only set of Macrocannons on the ship.
And every single ship of theirs had a similar set up. The damnest thing is that she couldn't begin to judge their effectiveness at all even as she flew inside a ship with one! Where all the layers equally strong? Did they all regain strength equally quickly? Did they all cover the ship equally?
And....how hard would it be to install a set back in Bagalog? Presuming that she managed to convince the Admech adepts and Calavan technology merchants to sell her a set for the right proportions of her next ship, with the right adjustments for it's power train and the correct set up for it's size and length and....it was a fanciful fantasy, certainly, but shields that didn't suffer from the usual set of weakness that she was familiar with was enough to get the ship lover in her a bit excited.
And then there was the culmination of everything problematic with Calavan doctrine. The problem being, of course, that she couldn't articulate a good reason not to do it.
The Strife.
She had already and covertly sent a missive back home that there was a Bulk carrier in their hands but she honesty felt that didn't do it justice.
"It's not a proper warship, but the fighters it carries sure are," She muttered to herself as she pressed the writing stick against her cheek, before putting it down to write more. She couldn't tell how many fighters it carried. Or what kind though she had seen legions of Saviors flying to and from it so that was a healthy guess. From her own experience down in the Hangars of the Courante, proper Calavan Saviors were equally functional in all respects. She didn't expect the pilots to be haughty idiots but she guess that essentially being the cogitators behind manned ordnance earned them that.
She had yet to see any sort of point defense in the ships but with a mountain of fighters like that around, well, it was pretty clear they didn't really need any. It actually made her curious about her role in the frigate carrier since the guns it carried were quite acceptable even by Bagalogian standards. The answer led her to believe that the ship was expected to back lineships at a range that could basically be interpreted to also be the line, but apparently was still out of the way. Not quite Lance strafing, but unlike the aging escort carriers not "out of sight". She supposed she would have to go through a fight before she could have a professional on the doctrine.
Fully functional augmentics were in short supply and Juvenat treatments like the one she had were relegated only to the tyrants and leaders of Calavar. The admiral and a few outstanding captains were being prioritized, but demand far outstripped supply for now.
On that note, she briefly wondered if she should inform her superiors that the Calavans now believed that a dark purple voids suit with furs and trims was the "official" dress officers in the Home Force. It was certainly incredibly amusing to her but she wondered if this had any intelligence value. But then, there were enough Calavan officers in the Bagalog fleet for the information to be out of date as soon as they undoubtly send reports back to Calavar. It only took two officers mentioning the officer dress of two ships under two different Cartels for them to figure out that there was some sort of factional difference at work.
But the fact that Calavans all had the same outfits was of interest. A Black suit with red trimmings that was pleasantly at odds with the blues of deserters and the actual Imperial Navy they used to be part of. Plenty of intelligence officers had seen the dress of the Calavans at the negotiations, but confirmations that it was a spread out affair spoke wonders about the about the nature of the groups in the fleet.
And lastly, and this she took a second to properly think out how to write, was the skeleton of the titan being build in their impressive yards. It was not a Strife and it was clearly not a salvage as it was being build from the ground up. But just from the space allocated, she could tell that it was the size of a Light Cruiser.
And the thought that they could build their own Light Cruiser from the ground up.....Not repair or reconstruct a Light Cruiser like they had done, but actually build one from scratch. That was....
Light Cruiser-sized Hull being build as we speak. Will inform more as time progresses.
There. No misinformation while still hinting at what she thought it was. It was worrying as well as being awe inspiring, in all truth, but a part of her couldn't help but be...glad. She didn't hate the people in other Cartels that her own had ordered her to kill in the old trade wars and she didn't hate these Calavans when all they were were maybe just political and economical opponents. She actually liked the people in the ship she was with, even the obnoxious pilots. And she couldn't honestly say anything worse about the Calavans that she had met in the ports or in general that she couldn't about her own people.
Humanity was finally on the rise again and that fact alone was perhaps enough for them to not try and kill each other.
----------------------------
There we go. I have taken a few liberties here and there, sure, but I hope that I have interpreted the Bagalogians as close to lore as possible.
Report from Bagalogian Officer, first Year.
Gunnery Officer Moonyen ponder what to write in her report as she bit down on her writing stick. It was a solid block of crystal ink that melted with friction but not heat, which made for a surprisingly tidy writing implement. At normal atmospheric pressures, high heat would just make it evaporate into C02 which was handy as all you needed to erase or correct yourself with it was heating pads. It was a local product sold to bureaucrats and officers like herself, and could be found wherever there were Calavan business men and women around, which was basically wherever their troops were. In many ways, the black cylinder was much like the Calavan Navy; Surprisingly primitive in many ways but simultaneously and surprisingly sophisticated.
In the start of the 10 year stint aboard the only regional opponents that anyone in Bagalog could call "friendly"....or "worthy" for that matter, the woman who had served in the patrol vessels around her home world and then aboard one of the handful of Hatchets in the Home Force against the deserters could honestly say that her experience was unlike anything she had ever experienced. As it regarded her motivations, one of the sad facts of the Bagalogian navy was that it was slow to expand. There were certainly many Cartels flying the patrol fleets and providing the important velvet padding around the core ships that formed it's Iron gauntlet, but it had been clear from the beginning that not all officers were made equal and that a high Rating in an Armed Merchant was not even the equivalent of a low one in even the Hatchets that she flew on. Captains, being Captains, were all given a captain's respect even if they had their own pecking order but those below that, those not protected by the propriety that everyone believed the lords and masters of their piece of Emperor granted "domain", were treated as what they actually were: Inferior.
It was not a deliberate snubbing or even humiliation, but simply an outgrowth of the cruel but honest trade wars that the Home Force had grown out of. And in those you either rated or you didn't. The men and women she had helped burn in the void back then was testament enough for that. So her post of Gunnery Officer aboard the Unsubtle Cut seemed to many like the end of a long life unattainable dream. The height of an impossibly tall mountain. But Moonyen saw it for what it was; A small peak tall enough to witness the base of a mountain range. Simply put, her ambition couldn't, and wouldn't, end at where she was.
It just so happened that being good at being a Gunnery Officer would no longer be enough for her to climb.
So to say she had jumped at this chance would not have been much of an exaggeration. The intelligence that she was gathering as one of the Exchange Officers was basically the only way that she could so to keep climbing.
"I wish I had an auto-diction," She muttered to herself, the conveniences of the Courante she was aboard on seeming slight in comparison to Bagologian ships. Oh, the writing sticks were basically the best writing utensils she had ever actually used, but she honestly expected to never have to use a writing utensil ever again after she had made it to a proper officer in an actual warship. Point in fact, integration of the Brotherhood of Mars could hardly be seen in the, and she still couldn't believe that anyone was trying this, frigate carrier. Or at least, in comparison to proper Bagalog ships. She had of course scoffed at this until the Courante had made port in Calavar and she realized it was likely because they had spread all their Techpriests across all their fleet.
Their frankly enormous fleet.
They almost had as many ships as the Deserters did, and that was just in their offensive squads. Unlike the cowards in Gehault, they didn't commit their best assets to defend their holdings opting instead to use their best to bleed the enemy. Their patrol squads suffered in quality in comparison, but even then they had enough ships to outfit to multiple squads. And unlike the Home Force of Bagalog, the offensive squadrons was almost all proper warships.
In comparison to Bagalog, even their Long-arm and Indomitable fell behind impressive though they were. But Calavar did not have any fodder as Bagalog did. Every single ship of theirs was a serious danger. One more opponent to keep in mind rather then just squat aside. This combined impressively with the first impression that she ever got sailing on the Courante she had been posted on. And that was the speed.
After the tenuous peace that had been rammed down the deserter's throats had taken place, a lot of the navy personal had taken interest in the ships that Calavar had brought. The Resolutes they already had some information on from the reports that merchants brought from time to time and they had all seen the little escort carrier that Yttreum was so proud of. Tales of their success against the Ork, Xenos and traitor had all dripped through commerce, and even the bitter realization that Bagalog's manufacturing abilities which were only starting to be enough to just start doing some of the same when the Sovereignty War with Gehault exploded hadn't stopped them from realizing that what they saw simply couldn't be all there was. Calavar had been able to supply six actual warships to negotiate the peace while, the Calavan officers implied, being able to engage in other fronts.
Not front, fronts.
Being the most impressive ship in that fleet, they had requested one officer in the Courante in the negotiations for the Officer Exchange. They had made postings in the Home Force's actual warships available in exchange and so now here she was trying to see the truth about the matter. And after she had been welcomed aboard, shown her quarters and given her schedule to get familiar with her command chain and station, she had expected being able to have about a week to get familiar with things before they warped back to the Calavan "home".
It had taken them 3 days to disengage into a safe enough distance to begin the otherworldly transit.
The inertial dampers in the ship didn't actually allow one to feel the acceleration, but a little bit of worry about being unable to familiarized herself before being expected to perform under training could not undercut the outright wonder at seeing this hulking escort travel at twice the speed of her ex-Corvette.
And they all except their escort carriers traveled at that speed. A fleet full of fast ships! Well, at least by Bagalogian standards.
The next thing that had really impacted her and almost given her a heart attack was the shields. The strangest damned shields she had ever come across, and that was with Orks were thrown in the mix. The first time they had run across a particularly rough patch of asteroids, the first layer was overloaded after about 3 hours of constant travel through them. The subtle "snap" that reverated through the whole hull was much quieter then she was used to, but decades of ingrained instincts immediately recognized.
Shield down.
She had been profusely embarrassed when the boys under her command had explained that it was merely the first layer in an array of multiple layers that had gone down and that it would quickly regain strength before the other ones could even start to be overloaded and that they were not, point in fact, in danger. Sure enough, no sooner had they explained things and the pleasant hum that came with the reemergence of the shield echoed in the halls. Her muscles loosened from stress she didn't know she had and she had to endure yet another round of laughter from the people manning the only set of Macrocannons on the ship.
And every single ship of theirs had a similar set up. The damnest thing is that she couldn't begin to judge their effectiveness at all even as she flew inside a ship with one! Where all the layers equally strong? Did they all regain strength equally quickly? Did they all cover the ship equally?
And....how hard would it be to install a set back in Bagalog? Presuming that she managed to convince the Admech adepts and Calavan technology merchants to sell her a set for the right proportions of her next ship, with the right adjustments for it's power train and the correct set up for it's size and length and....it was a fanciful fantasy, certainly, but shields that didn't suffer from the usual set of weakness that she was familiar with was enough to get the ship lover in her a bit excited.
And then there was the culmination of everything problematic with Calavan doctrine. The problem being, of course, that she couldn't articulate a good reason not to do it.
The Strife.
She had already and covertly sent a missive back home that there was a Bulk carrier in their hands but she honesty felt that didn't do it justice.
"It's not a proper warship, but the fighters it carries sure are," She muttered to herself as she pressed the writing stick against her cheek, before putting it down to write more. She couldn't tell how many fighters it carried. Or what kind though she had seen legions of Saviors flying to and from it so that was a healthy guess. From her own experience down in the Hangars of the Courante, proper Calavan Saviors were equally functional in all respects. She didn't expect the pilots to be haughty idiots but she guess that essentially being the cogitators behind manned ordnance earned them that.
She had yet to see any sort of point defense in the ships but with a mountain of fighters like that around, well, it was pretty clear they didn't really need any. It actually made her curious about her role in the frigate carrier since the guns it carried were quite acceptable even by Bagalogian standards. The answer led her to believe that the ship was expected to back lineships at a range that could basically be interpreted to also be the line, but apparently was still out of the way. Not quite Lance strafing, but unlike the aging escort carriers not "out of sight". She supposed she would have to go through a fight before she could have a professional on the doctrine.
Fully functional augmentics were in short supply and Juvenat treatments like the one she had were relegated only to the tyrants and leaders of Calavar. The admiral and a few outstanding captains were being prioritized, but demand far outstripped supply for now.
On that note, she briefly wondered if she should inform her superiors that the Calavans now believed that a dark purple voids suit with furs and trims was the "official" dress officers in the Home Force. It was certainly incredibly amusing to her but she wondered if this had any intelligence value. But then, there were enough Calavan officers in the Bagalog fleet for the information to be out of date as soon as they undoubtly send reports back to Calavar. It only took two officers mentioning the officer dress of two ships under two different Cartels for them to figure out that there was some sort of factional difference at work.
But the fact that Calavans all had the same outfits was of interest. A Black suit with red trimmings that was pleasantly at odds with the blues of deserters and the actual Imperial Navy they used to be part of. Plenty of intelligence officers had seen the dress of the Calavans at the negotiations, but confirmations that it was a spread out affair spoke wonders about the about the nature of the groups in the fleet.
And lastly, and this she took a second to properly think out how to write, was the skeleton of the titan being build in their impressive yards. It was not a Strife and it was clearly not a salvage as it was being build from the ground up. But just from the space allocated, she could tell that it was the size of a Light Cruiser.
And the thought that they could build their own Light Cruiser from the ground up.....Not repair or reconstruct a Light Cruiser like they had done, but actually build one from scratch. That was....
Light Cruiser-sized Hull being build as we speak. Will inform more as time progresses.
There. No misinformation while still hinting at what she thought it was. It was worrying as well as being awe inspiring, in all truth, but a part of her couldn't help but be...glad. She didn't hate the people in other Cartels that her own had ordered her to kill in the old trade wars and she didn't hate these Calavans when all they were were maybe just political and economical opponents. She actually liked the people in the ship she was with, even the obnoxious pilots. And she couldn't honestly say anything worse about the Calavans that she had met in the ports or in general that she couldn't about her own people.
Humanity was finally on the rise again and that fact alone was perhaps enough for them to not try and kill each other.
----------------------------
There we go. I have taken a few liberties here and there, sure, but I hope that I have interpreted the Bagalogians as close to lore as possible.
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While Bagalog and it's leader are unlikely to ever be truly friendly with Calavar, it is growing more clear that this is not the time to try to outdo the other. Combining your primitive but acceptably effective production with the technology available to Bagalog could provide dividends. So long as both sets of leaders are willing to agree to treat the other as an equal.
[] Good Friends: Due to personal ties between the officers involved in the exchange, Bagalog forces are more cooperative when encountered.
[] Good Neighbors: Opens options to make commissions of the Explorator for powerful equipment.
[] Good Fences: Informally divide the nearby portions of the Subsector into spheres of influence, allowing both sides to concentrate on their responsibilities and to request aid from the other if something occurs that threatens Humanity in the region.
- Pronouns
- He/Him
[X] Good Fences: Informally divide the nearby portions of the Subsector into spheres of influence, allowing both sides to concentrate on their responsibilities and to request aid from the other if something occurs that threatens Humanity in the region.
Let's reduce the places we are responsible for covering, so we can focus and well guard the regions under our control.
Let's reduce the places we are responsible for covering, so we can focus and well guard the regions under our control.
Its @mithril-blade 's choice btw.
But yeah, leaning towards that. It may well end in conflict in the end once the other threats are reduced, but in the mean time the less we have to deal with the better it'll be.
On the one hand, I like how lore heavy Good Friends is. As in, it reflects the Ant's POV that we tend to forget when talking about ships filled to the brim with people. It's, I don't know, heart warming?
But yes, the last one would definitely be the better option, politically speaking. It's honestly just too logical.
So
[X] Good Fences: Informally divide the nearby portions of the Subsector into spheres of influence, allowing both sides to concentrate on their responsibilities and to request aid from the other if something occurs that threatens Humanity in the region.
Alright, formally calling the vote. This strategic turn is going to be Fun.
...Just to clarify, that's fun for me, and not fun for you. Legcutta has been picking fights this whole time you know. And technically the Traitors are doing "something" but they are barely relevant right now other than hitting your cargo ships.
...Just to clarify, that's fun for me, and not fun for you. Legcutta has been picking fights this whole time you know. And technically the Traitors are doing "something" but they are barely relevant right now other than hitting your cargo ships.
- Pronouns
- He/Him
... I really should have known that. *shows myself out*
Yeah. That's the problem with being one of the bigger boys in the sector now. The Orks will be drawn to us now that their squabbling as been sorted out since they always look for tougher fights.
Its going to be a expensive fight. But we need to take down his second light cruiser if we are to break his momentum. Hopefully without losing ships.
Well, This might get expensive for us in Repairs at least.
Now, if only we can get our fellow human to help out....
There's no way we're not losing anything. I just hope we can avoid losing anything too important.
It might have been a good idea to take down Metalrenda last turn to chip away at Legcutta's available strength, though of course then we wouldn't have the industrial platform.
Of course, that'd work better if we'd spent more on Gehault repairs...