I say just take out the ships engines and then decide from there of how to deal with them cause like if the main danger is them charging at us and exploding then keeping them from moving sounds like it completely neuters them as a threat. Then we can board or try and wait them out for surrender/them blowing themselves up at our leisure and maybe having a chance at getting multiple ships intact enough to study.
I think our fighters/bombers should be able to easily handle targeting the engines/thrusters like that.
Blitz boarding a literal bomb with the suicidal/fanatical crew holding holding the trigger? On top of Imperials having better die rolls on average? No. Nope.
I wonder if HeroCooky is sad we are steering clear of this option- it is a very cool idea, but we don't have the Military V and/or the infantry tech (which should work for space infantry too, right?) to let us get a quality parity.
Sure, it may turn out they loaded a penal legion on those ships, and said crew weren't even aware they were going on a suicide mission, so they'll mutiny the moment we step a foot on the ship... but that's very unlikely.
Detonating said bombs and just waiting for a conventional ambush is far less likely to (literally) blow up in our faces.
Scheduled vote count started by HeroCooky on Apr 7, 2024 at 10:16 PM, finished with 36 posts and 15 votes.
[X] Plan: Playing it Safe and Setting the Trap
-[X] Fireships: Eliminate the fireships before the projected arrival of Neon fleet. Try to capture one or more for intel gathering, but the priority is taking them out of play for future engagement.
-[X] Ambush: Knowing the rough time estimate and the rough stellar direction the enemy will arrive at. Use this to our advantage to set an ambush. The SDF will be the visible bait and be in their defensive position near Magdab. Show the enemy the expected SDF forces when they arrive. Hide the rest of the fleet behind the planet opposite of the arrival point. Draw the enemy in until they are too far into the system gravity well to escape. Once they close into the designated ambush point the trap will be sprung and either a two-pronged attack or a combined attack (with the ambush fleet and SDF joining together) will be launched depending on the judgment of the local commander.
[X] Plan: Playing it Safe and Setting the Trap
-[X] Fireships: Eliminate the fireships before the projected arrival of Neon fleet. Try to cazpture one or more for intel gathering, but the priority is taking them out of play for future engagement.
-[X] Ambush: Knowing the rough time estimate and the rough stellar direction the enemy will arrive at. Use this to our advantage to set an ambush. The SDF will be the visible bait and be in their defensive position near Magdab. Show the enemy the expected SDF forces when they arrive. Hide the rest of the fleet behind the planet opposite of the arrival point. Draw the enemy in until they are too far into the system gravity well to escape. Once they close into the designated ambush point the trap will be sprung and either a two-pronged attack or a combined attack (with the ambush fleet and SDF joining together) will be launched depending on the judgment of the local commander.
only thing left to do is to hope for the best, and prepare for the worst...but if we can hit the enemy fleet with our bombers and fighters in the rear, taking out their engines and warp engines...they will have a choice.
either surrender, go out with a bang (suicide explosion), or keep on fighting while we hit them from range.
if were lucky we can take this fleet out and begin raiding operations to smash and grab as many people away from the imperials as possible, as well as ruin space infrastructure...all the while of course settling more colonies so we can ensure the people aren't going to rise in a massive rebellion (going to need to gene-scan people as well as check if they are chaos inflicted or not), if this works we can potentially fill in multiple colonies and get prepared for a greater push into former imperial territories...
of course were going to need a massive battle-fleet in order to truly survive the mad-house that is this torn apart galaxy, along with more chiors and of course industry and actually giving a damn about peoples health.
which reminds me we are almost at military industry V, we should look at medical industry V sometime soon...i also think we need to fix down our saints and maytyrs if our leaders and hero's are going to perish anytime soon from old age.
Honestly we really need to look to colonising some more planets too - we've got the species bonus to take advantage of, and after so much work on improving our infrastructure, it's high-time we looked to expanding our capacity.
That's on deck for the near future, yes. I'm also hoping we can do two Taurus refits and the Super Libra refit as one action too, since we're due for a Taurus revisiting.
Personally I'm also looking forwards to colonizing more planets and building up our territory.
Besides that I also want to do more Psykana stuff, we still have a bunch of Melodies to unlock and have ideas for potential Songs we could do to increase our resistance to Chaos.
(Reminder that the Void melody can potentially allow us to hurl black holes at our enemies, just something to think about).
Aryn, though he was officially numbered #18Kd/c as part of the ship's equipment after his father had died when he had been 4 Maintenance Cycles old, was beginning to think that life could get better than it was. Sure, the food was the same, and the people were too, but he had never been one for more than his nutri-bar and daily allotment of water after a sixteen-hour shift. And the latter had been replaced with a shift of only ten hours lately. Imagine that! A whole six hours more in the work-rest-cycle for him to pray to the God-Emperor, sleep, or do other things. Like playing cards, as he was doing now.
"Got any sixes?" He asked Shim, the woman with heavy burn scars grimacing at her hand as she pulled out two and gave them to him. Naturally, this meant he had a set and slapped it onto the table in their nook, with a round of groans coming from her, Maha, Lichen, and Gern.
"Damn it, why do you always win?" she asked with a sigh, placing another notch on her Breeding License under his name.
Grinning, he leaned back with a self-satisfied smile as Lichen stared daggers at him, his name entirely absent of any notches. Poor guy. "Can't bring anything less than the be-"
[TO ALL CREW: THIS IS YOU CAPTAIN SPEAKING!] A shrill voice suddenly shrieked, causing everyone within the vents repurposed into housing to bolt up. [WE ARE BEING BOARDED! PREPARE TO ME-KRRZSZZTZSTTZZ] And with that, the broadcast ended. However, it left shocked eyes and frantic motions all the same, hands and limbs moving bodies and tools here and there, frail arms that had never known enough food to cover more than half their needs carrying blowtorches as grubby-looking pistols were loaded with equally as grubby fingers and extremely suspect bullets inexpertly made.
"MOVE, MOVE, MOVE!" The foreman shouted, clutching onto the lasgun, the symbol of his office, with white knuckles and frantic breaths. Though it had rarely been done, on account of past captains being particularly irate when the lower decks fought over territory and responsibilities, and thus extra food and water rations, the skill of making barricades and at least knowing how and where to seek cover and fight hadn't atrophied. Not enough to threaten the enforcers though; never that.
Tense moments of silence followed, stretching into minutes of uneasy watching, before turning into an hour where people began to whisper, some left cover to look at what was happening, and one particularly ballsy woman tried to sneak away to sleep, only to get the butt of the foreman's lasgun against her skull instead.
The tense atmosphere returned, though discipline faltered far more quickly than the first time, guns no longer ready for several minutes, and people began to move here and there, starting to mill around as the braver ones failed to return from their attempts to see what was happening.
Yet, eventually, the doors to their section opened, and the foreman snapped at the figure beyond. "WHAT TO-ook...you," he trailed off, lasgun lowering in the same motion as his jaw went slack, and he stared at the towering armored form colored yellow with speckles of red that walked through unconcerned, a humming sword in one hand, bolter pistol in the other.
"I am Brother Omicron of the Lamenters Space Marine Chapter," he said in a deep bass, and eyes widened as weapons, improvised or not, began to clatter against the ground. People dropped to their knees, the Imperial Aquila formed by their hands and started to mutter fervent prayers to the God-Emperor as everyone tried to avoid sullying one of His Angels with their gazes. "This vessel is being commandeered. Surrender.
The enemy emerged six days after the latest possible day in their time-table, the anticipation rending apart more than one bundle of nerves until, at last, with an emergence like a sigh of built-up tension being expelled, two Light Cruisers, four Frigates, and nine Destroyers began to cast their baleful shadows upon the Itani system, some once again.
Against them stood the same SDF as before, tightly coiled around the planet Neon had once tried to destroy, with the Battle Cruisers proudly standing vigil with the ships of those consigned to death by the hands of far-off tyrants.
Engines lit the void, and a fleet raced to deliver doom.
+++All ships: begin low-emission burns!+++ K-531 ordered, a hand extended as if to command the fleet under them by sheer force of will alone, eighteen drives igniting under the cover of a planetary shadow.
A dance and song as old as life itself repeated once more; the jockeying for better positioning began with the shifting of ships on trajectories better suited to catch this revision of their foes, with others seeking to change theirs to counter the movement of another.
It carried on as the Neon Fleet plunged deeper, taking on an ever more sure note within their lessening corrections as the enemy SDF seemed to increase theirs.
They did not know the drive emissions were signals for the hidden fleet coasting behind them.
Two mechanical hands stapled themselves before the body of K-531, a pleasing purr within their voice as they beheld the result of many a week of calculations and hours of pre-battle preparations done today.
+++Estimated chance of successful retreat: 0%.+++ They proclaimed, a grin seemingly laced over their words as orders began to filter through the Noosphere of the fleet.
+++All ships...+++
A moment of dramatic silence followed, as if the world had held its breath, even as the word was released without delay.
+++Full Speed Ahead.+++
And Tanya von Silberflügel had to suddenly realize that the bad feeling within her gut had been true, an entire fleet outmassing hers appearing as if from thing air behind her ships, gleaming ships bearing weaponry and trajectories aimed at her heart.
"We...we fell into their trap," some rating silently muttered through the shocked silence. The bad feeling solidified into dawning horror as faces began to turn to panic at their situation. Caught between two fleets that outmassed theirs thrice over, their hidden Fire Ships likely already destroyed, and escape nearly impossible, discipline warred with rousing self-preservation.
On some ships...
It lost.
[THIS IS THE SECOND SPEAKING] a shaken voice trying to put on a stern face bellowed through the ship, rumors of the ambush of the Xeno-Traitors already filtering down into the lower ranks where they incited uneasy mutterings and fears. [THE CAPTAIN HAS BEEN EXECUTED ON ORDER OF ADMIRAL VON SILBERFLÜGEL ON THE COUNTS OF COWARDICE AND ATTEMPTED TREASON. ANY WHO FOLLOW IN HER STEPS WILL MEET THE SAME FATE!]
And with that, rumors and fears ignited into terrified obedience, enforcers cracking shock-mauls and electro-whips upon the backs of all who showed any hesitation to celebrate the traitor's death.
It would have been funny.
It would have been gratifying.
It would have been the highlight of her career overseeing the largest deployment of her sister-siblings since their service within the Federation.
And yet, Thule-2000 could not help but feel hate flow through her veins as she beheld ever-climbing casualty rates, sister-sibling after sister-sibling snuffed from life with the indifferent hand of warfare's cruel calculus.
They were the best. They were trained to be the best. They had been given all they needed to be the best and offered more support despite that yet again.
And still, the burning wrecks of Frigates coughing their last upon the stellar currents was no balm as she tracked the ever-growing list of sister-siblings slain by those who knew nothing about what it meant to be human and yet praised it so.
Fifteen Neon ships had arrived within the system.
Her sister-siblings had broken three in one pass.
Two had their shields stripped from them.
One was currently dealing with the ghost of a spiteful Thule, having rammed her damaged fighter into their captain's body. The bridge they had occupied was now nothing more than a smoldering ruin exposed to the void.
One pass, and 6% casualties. 63 Sister-Siblings...
For several thousand Neonites.
There was hate within her veins...but grim satisfaction at a harvest most bloody.
And more would come.
Like a drumbeat of death, the Aries-Secundus waisted no time in aligning their weaponry upon the badly shaken Neon ships, glinting Chainbreakers spooling up to deliver shot after shot after shot after shot after shot after shot-crashing against shields, hulls, and then biting deep into the bellies of ships trying to retaliate, yet failing to concentrate fire to do more than damage some monitors encircling them and pop the shield of one too-bold Crux flooding sensors with missiles as they tried to beat the Pacts' auto-loaded missiles by the sheer volume of missiles shot instead of their killing potential.
And yet, the Lover's Dance was not silent either. White-hot beams of energy sliced through shields and burned intensely amongst the plated hulls of once so indomitable vessels, replaced with a swirl of arcane machinery powered by things none understood by the beams of blackest black, thermal energies ripped away from melting plates to freeze over, cracking and splintering at temperatures better describes as non-existent.
Fifteen ships had entered the system.
Four remained.
The offer was sent.
The reply was received.
A charge, weapons blazing, and ships defiant.
Minds steely, hearts guarded, and souls ablaze in zealotry.
Silver Wings spread wide, slave no more but to her own shackles.
Warp Predators grinning and hungry for the feast.
A Choir singing with tears for those who fell today.
A Warp calmed and offered a feast no more.
And the Glimmering Federation gave no mercy where none was sought.
...
...at least, until it came time to gather the survivors and cut apart the ships for salvage and information.
The Third Battle for Itani had been won, and only light damage had been sustained by the righteous.
"They are what?" Ambassador Utani asked, looking up from his paperwork with a frown, having heard something that couldn't have been right.
"They are protesting to fight," one of his subordinates repeated, though the sentence didn't make sense. Hrm, what was his name again? Eh, he could look it up later.
"You mean they don't want to fight? But we haven't called them to do so?" He asked, confusion
"No, sir," the man said with the tone of voice used when someone didn't want to anger a higher-up. "The Yeeni have heard about the Second and Third Battle for Itani, and some have asked to join the military to 'bring the fight against those who caused them so much pain and death.' In their words...well, in the words of one of them."
Ambassador Utani leaned back, wracking his brain to look at any legal precedent or situation on which he could base his answer. Finding none, he decided upon the most dangerous path: Escalate the matter upstairs.
The Yeeni (or some) Wish To Fight For The Glimmering Federation. (6-Hour Moratorium) [] Deny It.
Quite frankly, there is not yet enough trust, and there are still lingering cultural, technological, and spiritual shocks and differences that would make using volunteers far more troublesome than worthwhile.
(Yeeni are denied Military Duty. Create a Faith Action to deal with the matter of Protectorate Auxiliaries.)
[] Allow Tertiary Involvement.
While their willingness to fight is admirable and shows their capacity to one day be considered for status as Kin, they are not yet ready to fight shoulder-to-shoulder with the rest of the Federation. But they can be used for back-line duties, like the Merchant Marine.
(Yeeni are allowed to join the Glimmer Merchant Marine.)
[] Allow Secondary Involvement.
Frontline duty is too risky; the danger of something threatening their continued integration or some hostile element trying to disturb the trust built up is something to keep in mind. Yet, they can be assigned some less important duties if they wish to fight. Logistics, construction, and driving are all vital jobs that they could do.
(Yeeni will be allowed to volunteer for back-line duties.)
[] Create The 1st Protectorate SAG.
They wish to fight? Then, who are we to deny them the chance to prove themselves?
(Gain: 1st Protectorate SAG. Write-In the Units of the SAG.)
AN: To clarify something, Neon does not have a Forge World. They have an Industrial World with ambitions of becoming one, but they do not have a Forge World.
11 (6,5) vs 3 (3) - Eliminate Fire Ships - One Captured - Ambush Improved
19 (5,2,1,2,4,5) vs 8 (4,1,4) - Does Neon Suspect Something - It Does Not
10 (5,5) vs 4 (1,2,2) - Positioning - Neon Believes They Have The Advantage - Ambush Improved
17 (5,2,6,3,1) vs 6 (4,1,2) - Bear The Fangs - No Escape?
2 (1,1,1) - Away Or Through? - RUN! RUN! RUN!THROUGH!
Neon Uses: [Coward's Due] - Replace Morale Check with 12 (6,6). Roll 3d6, drop highest for the rest of the battle.
12 (3,1,3,5) vs 5 (3,3,2) - Pierce The Throat - Neon Gets Mauled
12 (2,5,5) vs 2 (1,1,4) - Rip It Out - Catastrophic Neon Losses
7 (5,2) vs 8 (3,6,5) - Mercy For Those Who Give None? - Ruthlessness Is Mercy Upon Ourselves
God that's overpowered. "We auto-crit pass morale checks whenever called on"
At least Chaos didn't get to feast off of this, but the time has come to push back. At least we bagged their commander. Disappointed that her reaction to being caught dead to rights and given a chance to stand down was "Fuck you, execute everyone who accepts and make them spend slightly more ammunition."
I hate that this spite is both successful for them, and also never apparently fails for them. But I guess the Imperium wouldn't be a behemoth if they didn't have some cheats of their own. "We auto-pass Morale checks at no meaningful cost whenever they're called on" is just... Ow. That doesn't work unless you have total control of the scenario (Like in Void Battles), but it's still a nasty thing that I'm glad we learned about before we got stuck in.
