NiNES: A Broken Galaxy

“The whole bridge structure is shot.”

“Who the frak thought it was a brilliant idea to mount the bridge externally anyway? That wasn’t in the original specifications.”

“It was a rush job. They were running out of storage space; had to compensate by altering the design.”

“I don’t give a damn. Find the damn fool that authorized it and have him shot for gross incompetence. The blueprint calls for the bridge to be internally configured and heavily armored for a reason, and this was it.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And figure out how those damn furballs managed to suicide attack our fighters with their fighters. I want to know what kind of massive training deficiency can account for such lunacy.”

“Yes, sir…”

“Lastly… I want to know how a single damn Escort Carrier, specialized design or not, with a complement of a mere 30 Fighters and handful of Corvettes, can almost defeat a Fighter compliment twice as large backed up by two Destroyers and Defense Systems.”

“Sir, if I may, the Destroyers…”

“Mahoney, shut up. This kind of combat performance is inexcusable. It’s a Pyrrhic victory. Do you understand me? One more 'win' like this, and we may as well hand them the defense codes and step aside. Am I making myself clear? You will get me answers. You will find out who is responsible for this mess. And you will report that to me, so I can go in front of Katana Renji and tell him why he almost lost the home system. If you don’t, you can go speak to him. Do you understand me?”

“… Sir!”



It had been obvious that an attack had been coming. Somebody doesn’t trade merrily one day and then all of a sudden demand exorbitant prices the next for no reason. It was amusing, actually; no sense of forethought. Any competent people would’ve made a deal, taken the money, and used it to bolster the attack.

But the Nekomi weren’t sensible. That much was obvious.

The whole attack was all wrong. It should’ve come from Rana, not Sol. The reasons were manifold: Kapteyn was newly formed and undergarrisoned, and anything that was manufactured was going to be manufactured first at Eridani. It was a suicide attack. But they had almost broken through. And what was their excuse? Replication of the Scourge? What kind of damn fool was going to buy that? The Scourge was the byproduct of some incompetent know-nothing peon group consigned to the ash heap of history. If anyone with power had wanted to create something like that…

… well, there wouldn’t have been anybody left to talk about it afterwards.

“I told you we shouldn’t have trusted them,” said Thawan icily.

“I don’t trust any person with a tail,” he added.

Step one in warfare is always to dehumanize the enemy. The Nekomi, being not exactly of standard human pattern anymore, made this exceedingly easy to do. It was so easy to twist the image, to utilize the facts. One had to be careful not to buy into one’s own propaganda though. In the initial aftermath of the attacks there had been dissident activity upon the nets as to what exactly had occurred. Some had claimed that it was a raid on the orbital facilities. That had been easily dissuaded with the footage of the destroyed Transport; hundreds of dead infantry and wrecked tanks floating in a steel tomb in the outer reaches of the system. That had been enough to sway them. A bunch of crazy people who thought they were cats, coming to invade and kill and force people into accepting tails or cat ears… it was almost too easy. Golan had orchestrated the campaign himself. It was a remarkably simple thing for an advertising department which found ways to make bombs seem like attractive purchases.

“What we should and should not have done is a matter to be reflected upon when survival is guaranteed,” said Renji coolly.

He glanced over at Uhuru “How justified are we in moving against them?”

Uhuru spread his hands “Sir, they invaded our system with the intention of a hostile takeover, opened fire on our possessions and personnel, and are currently maintaining an armed garrison of Sol and using it as a waypoint.”

He clasped them back together “Not that there really is any legal system anymore, but were there, we would have full justification in taking all necessary actions; only an incompetent would argue otherwise.”

Renji nodded and gestured at Iceal, saying “What sort of data do we have on their positioning?”

Iceal tapped at his PDA and brought the holoprojector online. It was full of static and glitched occasionally, as they hadn’t yet had the time or resources to bring it fully online, but it worked nonetheless. It loaded a gate network map. On it were displayed the various known Nekomi positions and strengths.

And so the Board of Directors took on another title: War Council.

Actually, the Emergents don't have contact with the Nekomi either at this point, since the Nekomi ship left its position. This would have been evident from the mail I'm sending later today. You could have contact via the Furians though.

@Symph: You will have a response shortly.

EDIT: Oh, and the Yamoto is definitely not an escort carrier.

OOC: I'm kind of sick of coming off as a jackass in this thread, so forget it.

You should list UUs somewhere like most mods do, though.

Golan? I remember that name from a certain well-known Sci-Fi author.

To Federation of Sezuren
From Emergents of Providence
We would like to exchange knowledge of Lasers for Missiles.

*waits for PM, prepares to leave in 3 days*

PMs away! *collapses from exhaustion*

EDIT: Oh, and chances are just as great for errors in the techs or map, so if you find something then drop me a PM.

"Christ has given himself to you, that you may give himself to him." Mother Elizabeth Finnegan said the words with reverence. She had said them a thousand times, but would sooner miss service than mouth them without feeling their truth. "Amen. Be seated." She set the dispenser down and moved to the pulpit.
"It is written: "There will be war and rumors of war. Do not be alarmed. These things will happen before the end. Faction will rise against faction, and system against system. These things will be only the beginning of something new.""
The priest looked up from the Concatenation Bible of Christianity. "These were the words of Christ himself, as best we have preserved them. They speak of an abomination that causes desolation. This may well be the Scourge. Indeed, a new thing is certainly coming about, now that thousands of our people make their home in Chara." He looked at the congregation. "Father Edward O'Brien, our representative to the Governancy, tells us that the Nekomi have left one advisor here in Benalia, and that their ships have left for war. And from the Furians, we are hearing of what is likely the same war. No doubt these things shall become clear in time."
She delivered a short homily on the subject of patience before bowing her head. "Let us pray." She clasped her hands and closed her eyes, as did a congregation of a thousand men and women.
"Dear God. You hold the galaxy in your hand as a grain of sand. You have all things in your power. You have held back that power so that men may exert their will. You took on human form and died for us as Christ the White. You are the Holy Ghost, who speaks to all men. We ask you now to open the eyes of our hearts and hear your voice. We ask you to speak to the men in every system of Sol and onwards, that they will be preserved and not do evil. God, send peace to men, but send also righteousness, that we shall not shrink from war when it is needed. Give us also the wisdom to judge in this and in all things. For you are powerful and glorious, oh yes. AMEN."
All those in the chamber felt the rush of power and the change in the very nature of the room as Reverend Finnegan uttered the sealing word. She took off her stole and was a normal person again, as the congregation mostly rose and began congregating congenially.

OCC: Note this is not a UU , just showing the progression of ships as technology improves.

Nice Dis. I'm tempted to do some of my own.

Now I'm sorely tempted to pick out AUTOCAD and get working.

[old man voice]You young'uns and your fancy technology! [/old man voice]

War Council
6km below the surface of Benalia II
President Churchill opened the council as normal. "Theodor Gregorius. Pace Muireadach. Anton Drahoslav. Harald Nagin. Orli Gianna. Millicent Abilene. And... "
"you don't need to know my Name. You can call me Miow.
"Very well. Some introductions are in order, I suppose. Old friends, Miow is a guest of honor from the Nekomi, sort of like an ambassador or observer." Miow bowed politely and let out a soft purr. "You may notice that he or she - I don't know - has claws. These are not implants, and they are deadly." Churchill then turned around the table to introduce the others. "From left to right, Miow, that's Theodor Gregorius, who's responsible for shipbuilding. You know Pace Muireadach already from the combat simulations; he's the space admiral. Anton Drahoslav is our tactician, Nagin over there-"
"Harald Nagin" said Miow "is well known to me. He and Paws Mrrrrdach were the reason I stayed."
"-right. Orli Gianna is the one responsible for our public information services, having just completed Nanomaterials and You. Millicent Abilene is head of research and development. Think of her as a whip to keep scientists from getting too absent-minded."
"You flatter me, I'm sure." Abilene responded.
There was a pause before the Nekomi called Miow spoke up. "Now. the Reason I have been invited here is that I told your president something he wanted You to hear. mrrrr. Personally. I like this place. it's secret."
Drahoslav listened eagerly, always curious for information from other factions.
"This has of course been Secret for quite some Time, which is why it hasn't been Official. We are going to War. Our forces are atacking this month or so. here is the map. if you will let me, of course."
Churchill passed the holoprojector to Miow.



"THERE." Miow pointed at Eridani. "Our ships are going there by way of Sol. Hahaha. and all the proper prayers have been said to the Kami."
A few of the men in the room exchanged uneasy glances at that.
Drahoslav jacked into his personal computer and began working on things. "Thank you very much. I'll be busy a while, bless these new interfaces. Gianna, your department, I think."
"Certainly. Our colony ships that we intented to send to Cygni should instead be sent to Alpha Centauri. Gregorius, what sort of force can we send to protect it and possibly intervene in the conflict?"
"Certainly the Hunter Killer prototype - possibly one more. Abilene says that the boffins are working on a project to synthesize our own elerium cells."
"I don't have to tell you that this will increase our energy supply by a large factor, I suppose. And the other thing is probably just as useful: Heavy plating. Once the second Hunter Killer comes off the production lines, it'll be near-immune to basic fighter shots, and you'd need a capital ship to even threaten it seriously. Take that into account when protecting Alpha Centauri."
"Looks like I'll have my job cut out for me," Nagin said, "watching a war going on where we'll be in close proximity to both factions, not to mention that Miow is from one of them."
"I have every confidence in your abilities." Churchill said. "Now, Abilene, if you will make your report on the elerium cell production..."

(OOC: Advisor with permission from TerrisH, after my earlier story featuring Nekomi attackers.)

Can't be letting Disenfrancised have all the fun...
here's a Fighter class ship, newest upgrade with Interfaces providing 720° vision.
(Yes, 720°. Or 4pi if you like. Feel free to argue.)



I shall have to see about acquiring Missile technology and adding that.

The Emergent Governancy is pleased to announce:
Due to recent breakthroughs in computing,
the Cyberlands will be upgraded throughout Sunday.​

Click to expand...

President Nicholas Churchill had abstained from voting on the matter of the Cyberland upgrade, and the rest of the Governancy had resolved to upgrade it over the course of a day, over howls of protests from the scientists (who didn't believe it could be done that fast) and the information brokers (who wanted there to be multiple partial upgrades which would not take as long). The upgrade had been done, though. As with any large-scale government-run project, there were bits not up to speed, bits which had been missed, damaged bits, incompatible bits, and illegal bits which the owners would have to upgrade privately. So Churchill had used the Presidential powers of minor dispensations to offer several hundred thousand credits to volunteer hackers who would finish the upgrade, knowing that no paid volunteer will ever return money if he can instead lay in an ounce of prevention or premature upgrade to the next level. And the Cyberlands reached a new level of function.

Let us look at one of the cyberists in this new world, one of those who keeps the arcana level high.

ToxicFrog opens the new worldsuit, acquired by sublegal means from a military contact. These worldsuits were new last year, used for combat simulations with a shocking level of realism. Now they're going public, but the ones sold in stores have a great many fail-safes and preventatives meant to reduce manufacturer liability. ToxicFrog is a professional cyberist, and he isn't having any of that. He brings the worldsuit to his interface room and strips naked before putting it on, noting happily that it includes a crotch protector without stimulators. Soon he's falling into the unconsciousness that precedes entry to the new mode, an IV strapped to his wrist, and a timer set to 24 hours to forcibly disconnect him if he isn't out by then.

His home room in the Cyberlands is furnished like the laboratory of a mad scientist, beakers bubbling into one another while a stuffed alligator hangs from the ceiling. A silver globe with a dozen buttons on it rests on the desk. Now it seems crudely rendered, consisting of lines and angles instead of being spherical. The alligator isn't crude, but it is two-dimensional, which is arguably worse. Everything else is similarly antiquated. ToxicFrog spends perhaps an hour renovating his room, then picks up the globe and touches a button. He dictates notes to his friends, inviting them to see his new room when they have time.

Then he steps out of the single door from the room and into an infinite hallway. The doors are marked with words, pictures, glyphs, animations, colors, anything which ToxicFrog can easily remember. He steps through one to visit his friend firxen, and they spend an hour drifting leisurely down another infinite hall, this one with open doors that present views of random parts of the Cyberlands. Work is underway in most of them. ToxicFrog and firxen work for an hour on a problem they've had for a while, before both of them are suddenly nauseated. They both wink out of existence shortly, realizing that the public suits are stripped of function with good reason. But it still beats the old system, which lay somewhere between text and glove-and-glasses (gag).

The "problem" he's working on is a clean room design of a military secret. Anyone with a telescope could have seen the live test of the Hunter Killer, and he and some friends began reverse-engineering the new propulsion based on spectral emissions and movement observations. They quickly tired of that, though, and began instead working on a little AI of their own for their battle simulations - a steering AI. They hope to land government office by presenting Churchill with a fait accompli. Their AI is growing daily, several thousand lines of code, and its size increased by ten percent just in the last hour. Now it's been sent on to two other members of their little team who will minimize the code by five percent or thereabouts. All of them are appropriately aware of what an AI can do, and hence they have limited it to steering. Each section of code is subject to evolutionary testing, putting a hundred ships with the steering AI against a hundred controlled by the Project Mobile hackers. They leak the most incomprehensible bits to the research labs from time to time, with polite notes saying "this might improve your turning".

They had hoped to be finished within two years, presenting their data for what it was worth if the "official" labs were ever tasked on the project. But with the new Cyberlands, they intend to finish in one year.

Space held such hope for humanity. A chance for a fresh start, a chance for peace and prosperity. But sooner or later, the old instincts take hold and everything goes to hell and dies. The massive Quantum Gate just floated there, dead, cold and motionless. It was predominately white colored with traces of green and red paint on some of the edges. Suddenly movement, the vast rings started to rotate, bluish energy arcs appeared all over the gate. Charged up, the gate activated, a wall of light blue energy covering the gate hole.

Out of it came a large metal beast, the final product of the ReGenesis project. Titan Class Colony Ship. Within it, enough manpower, materials and supplies for the colonization of any world capable of sustaining carbon based lifeforms. Following it, was another starship but smaller in size. It was a Kelidon Class Frigate. Both ships were shiny new and fresh from the shipyards of Tarsus, the standard Cybran coloring of ships was a combination of mostly black and some red color here and there.

With the ships well away from it, the Quantum Gate readily powered down, returning to it's cold, motionless state. The jump itself lasted a mere 0.26 of a second. Communication channels were activated.

"CDS Paradise City to CDS Painkiller, all systems are working, conditions are optimal. We need you to a find a good landing zone."

"Roger that, we are beginning atmospheric descent and planetary survey."

Captain Vlad leaned in his chair and lazily gave a few orders. Tanya was scanning the surface for a good landing zone. Vlad was displeased with his assignment of babysitting a colony ship. Still it was an important and very expensive project that needed to be guarded at all costs. At least they had the new Steering Computers, thanks to further lobbying of Admiral Zhukov.

"Sir, I have found the optimal landing zone. It's among the ruins of an old pre-collapse city. The area is rich with natural recourses and semi-working machinery. However I am also detecting several humanoid lifeforms."

"Humanoid? Are you sure?"

"Wait....yes the IR scans confirm it. Several survivor camps around and in the city."

"Engage silent running. Fly over them at a high altitude so we dont alert them to our presence. Tanya I want some high definition photos and videos of the camps. I'll be in my quarters."

...

Vlad paced around in circles in his room. It was his 'thinking mode'. He had to figure out what to do. He already received the intelligence data from Tanya. The survivors were shown to be wild, rabid brutes. The Collapse had turned them into a brutal community and the survivor camps were most likely various tribes fighting each other. Reincorporating them into society would not only be a dangerous job, but a costly one too. He summoned QAI to assist him with it's calculating power. Thanks to the wonders of Quantum Networking, QAI could be almost anywhere.

"How can I be of service, meatbag?"

"Hey did you just call me a meatbag?"

"Did I say that out loud? While it is true that you are an organic meatbag I shall refrain from addressing you as such."

"Hmm, yes what do you suggest we do in this situation?"

"Prejudice set to maximum. Conducting advanced simulations.

...

My conclusion is that it would be utterly unprofitable to reincorporate them into society. A waste of recourses."

"Damn. So what do we do with them?"

"I suggest that we slaughter all the meatbags, Master. But what do I know, I'm just an AI."

"Slaughter?"

"Yes, I am quite eager to participate in some unadulterated ultraviolence. Even an AI is allowed to have some fun once in a while."

"You logic is oddly convincing. All right, lets do this. QAI, transfer to the bridge."

Vlad put on his jacket and went to the bridge.

"Grigor, disengage from silent running and descend to a lower altitude. Tanya plot our course to fly over all the survivor camps. Nikolai, arm the weapon systems. Prepare the neutron cluster bombs. QAI, since the targeting computers are not online yet, calculate the most efficient attack vectors and bomb release points."

"Done comrade, we are ready to commence bombardment."

"Make it so."

This is what Vlad liked about the Cybran Navy. Complete and utter loyalty at all times. No questions asked. In an instant the ship made an 180 degree turn and began it's attack run. The shocked survivors could do nothing but look up and point and their incoming doom. The neutron cluster bombs were highly effective at eliminating enemy personnel with minimal collateral damage. They could also be dialed to increase their destructive outpost to buildings and armor but this was undesired in this situation. One by one the camps were being silenced.

"This is CDS Paradise City to CDS Painkiller. We are detecting explosions on the surface. What is going on?"

"This is Captain Vladimir Kovach, we have encountered some light resistance. The LZ is still hot, but we are in the process of eliminating the said resistance. Stand by."

"Roger that, we will await for your contact. Paradise City out."

In another 10 minutes all the survivors were dead, those who survived the initial bombings were run down with the ship railguns. QAI laughed maniacally.

"As ye olde earthlings would say. Genocide skills +5. Genocide counter +1. "

"This is CDS Painkiller to CDS Paradise City. Landing Zone has been cleared, you are cleared to land at these coordinates. Transmitting data."

"Affirmative. Data received. Activating automated colonization program. What is that insane laugh in the background?"

"Errm, nothing a simple audio glitch."

"Understood, see you on the ground Painkiller. Paradise City out."

OOC: CDS stands for Cybran Dominion ship.

War!!! Destruction!! Pain!! All these, gentlemen is what our enemies will feel when we go to war!!

General Zabriskie, before he became president.

President Zabriskie slams his fists on the desk and shouted, "What!! There is a war going on and we are not in it!!" He slams his fists again and pressed the button for his diplomatic advisor, "James, I want to see you in my office now." He then switched buttons to his Secretary of War, "John, I want you in my office now. I dont care what you are doing at the moment, you must be in my office in 2 minutes or god help me I will make your life a living hell."

Five minutes later the two men sat in my office as I turned the news on again, "You are now watching Furian Galactic News, I am your anchor, Ashley Simms and this is my co-anchor, Gary Norten. We have just found some really interesting news..... There is a war out between, Nekomi and Shuuri Industries. We have been trying to contact the Secretary of War but unfortunatly he has been detained and unable to comment, we have recieved our information through the navy scouts that have recieved radio transmissions from various frequencies around the universe." The tv goes blank, as President Zabriskie turned it off. "Well gentlemen..." He said as he turned around to face the men. "Mr. President if I may.... We have heard 'hintings' of war, from a certain faction but no contrete evident that war would break out. Much less involving them." James said.
"Well with our fleets prepped and ready for war we are more than able to fight, unfortunatly we never figured war would break out so far away from our systems, fortunatly for us we have several 'strings', I use that word loosely, that we can use to bring us into the war but if we do it might leave us vunerable to attack from another faction and would really wreck our day." Added Gary. "Interesting turn of events if you ask me, see I always figured it was going to be us that will be fighting rather than those guys out there. But nevertheless, we will support our allies if they ask for our help. So for now we will remain out of the war, for security measures, before devoting our entire fleet to some distance system with almost no means of reinforcing our systems if we have trouble." I said.
"Wise decision Mr. President, I shall move the fleet to better strengthen our position and hopefully deter any attacks if someone stupidly decises to attack us. Also would help make faster response times if an ally ask for help." Gary mentioned. I nodded my approval and shook hands with the men and waited for them to leave before turning the news back on. "In sports the newly formed football team from Altara visited Fury today at Furian Stadium. Fury won a very closely constested match, 41-40." I nodded and thought to myself, "Well the sytems seems to be getting on well."

This is the beginning of a series of Capellan analyses on all fighting ships known - starting of course with our own: -

From: United Planetary Nations Council of Sol (newly reformed)
To: Shuurai Heavy Industries, Nekomi
CC: Wideband transmission^*

The UPNCS strongly denounces the hostile actions conducted by Nekomi ships at Epsilon Eridani. Hostilities between surviving factions can only be to the detriment of all of humanity, in these troubled times in particular. All efforts should go towards the rebuilding and regrowth of human society on a planetary and galactic level. We strongly urge both factions involved to cease all hostilities immediately, and to engage in diplomatic discussion towards settling this matter to avoid any future recurrences. Sol system invites leaders from both factions here, to conduct these talks on neutral ground.

Furthermore, all of Sol system will henceforth for all purposes be considered a demilitarized zone for all factions, for the benefit of all of humanity. All military ships and personnel of any faction currently at Sol system are asked to leave immediately.

^* No other factions are within transmission range though.

The good old scoutship that we all love.
This one is unique because we just can't make engines that good anymore.