Event Glitter and Trauma

Discussion in 'Open Roleplay' started by Raziel, Nov 4, 2018.

  1. Raziel

    Messages:
    83
    Tensions were high between Earth and Mars. Both sides had increased their presence in the outer planets, with Ganymede a focal point. The site of immense investment from the inner planets, neither were going to sacrifice it to their rival. Ships remained in orbit while marine garrisons kept wary eyes on their rival planetside.

    The UNN Ablation had sailed in towards Ganymede on radio silence. All vessels had been ordered not to make contact as she approached the small, yet vital moon and made landing. That silence was broken suddenly. A final frantic distress call from it had been almost indecipherable, followed by screams and static obscuring the transmission before the crash. The explosion was less spectacular than the aftermath.

    The UNN Beowulf was the first ship to react. Her commander took the initiative to fire a the closest MCRN vessel, the Zama. The corvette was destroyed under a hail of missile fire, going supernova in a matter of seconds. In its death throes it had spewed out trails of teflon-coated tungsten to try and keep the torpedoes at bay, but wayward rounds had struck another target.

    The orbital mirror collapsing was the first notice many on Ganymede would get. The breadbasket of the Belt turned into a warzone as the Inner Planets clashed.

    [​IMG]


    Welcome to the Ganymede Event!

    This is an event featuring PvP
    • Don’t be over competitive, it’s not about winning.
    • Communicate with your opponents/allies and enjoy the writing.
    • Vessels clash in orbit but both sides have troops on the ground
    • Some additional orders will come down to both sides later in the event.
    • Light travel time: 50 minutes each way from both Mars and Earth to Ganymede
     
  2. Kaori Tsang

    Messages:
    3
    "You need to let my fucking ship out of the dock." Kaori's nostrils flared as the dockmaster continued to walk on his inspection tour, all but ignoring the slight woman fuming behind him. She wore a standard ship jumpsuit, heavy boots, and had vac sealable gloves sticking out of a pocket. Her suit had a soft seal helmet that would keep her safe from vacuum for a few minutes, but was otherwise just a fashion accessory. This was what she normally wore as she was about to get underway on a mission, and she had a hold full of lightweight consumables that were grown on Ganymede as a side business by many of the Agri workers. It was a lucrative trade for someone who had what amounted to a command couch attached to a small cargo bay welded to a pair of engines.

    More so, it would have been a lucrative trade, if she were allowed to leave the dock and get spaceborne again.

    The ground shook in a very not Ganymede way, and the lights dimmed momentarily, kicking over to backup power. That wasn't so much of an issue, as it could have just been a test. The main issue was that the atmosphere had gone quiet. Anyone who spent their lives in a closed circuit environment dependent on forced air knew what silence meant.

    It meant death.

    Kaori jammed her hands in her gloves, sealing them with quick, efficient movements, and was just about to pull her soft seal helmet up when the fans started fitfully again. The dockmasters radio came back to life at the same second, and it was chaos on the other end.

    The dockmaster pocketed his pad and ran for the nearest lock to the interior of this habitat.

    "Get to your ship and good luck. Looks like the war's come to Ganymede..." He said as he passed through the lock. Kaori didn't wait, she turned and sprinted for her ships dock. It was a couple of locks away, and between two of them was a marine station. She tried to remember if it was MCRN or UNN, but hadn't honestly paid much attention as she'd dogged the dockmaster around. Now that could mean whether she got out before the gunfire started down here or got detained.

    She patted her back pocket, feeling the slim form of her collapsible baton. It was a hell of a weapon against an unarmed mugger, but against a marine it was slim protection. She just hoped she didn't need to use it.

    @Raziel
     
  3. Aden Peterson

    Messages:
    20
    Character Biography:
    Bio
    [Ganymede - MCR Docks]

    After the chaos above Ceres, Aden had returned to Mars with his meager scraps. There wasn't much left of the ship destroyed over Ceres, but he'd brought back all he could find... except the Black Box. That one he'd not been able to recover. Regardless, however, he'd returned and awaited assignment.

    He didn't have to wait long.

    He'd been temporarily allocated barracks on Mars while his debriefing was complete and MCR command looked for whoever needed a pilot. The cargo bucket he'd flown was nice, but it wasn't his. He was just a user for it. No, the MCRN shuffled him around whenever and wherever they needed. It hadn't been long before he'd been assigned to an abysmal assignment - a Morrigan-class patrol destroyer. It appeared that MCRN Command wanted to redeploy assets to strategic locales, with as many ships as possible. The Morrigan was by far the most maneuverable ship Aden had ever flown, but not the largest. He figured he'd be fine.

    The craft he'd been assigned to was destined for Ganymede, with a crew of six. The craft was part of a small group heading to Ganymede, and it had taken quite a while to get to Ganymede at a moderate burn. The creature comforts of the ship were fine for Aden, just so long as he didn't have to spend too much time in the ship.

    He'd been in port for a week or so and had just been getting into a routine when the news came in, first by way of a distress call followed by an explosion, and alerts as the UNN went weapons-hot and melted an MCRN Corvette, which in its death had destroyed the orbital mirrors. It didn't matter the reasons - the UNN Had just deliberately destroyed an MCRN corvette. It was inexcusable and meant only one thing.

    War.

    Aden had been in his ship, simply sitting and reading when the alarms blared and the rest of the crew piled in, strapping in and sealing their vac-suits as the ship prepared for dust off.

    Aden looked over to his commanding officer, already bringing the Epstein drive on-line as the weapons grid was powered up, tracking LADAR online and locking on any target it could. Getting the word, Aden unleashed the ship, as it began to rise from the surface into the hellscape above. Aden didn't worry about what the RoE was, instead focusing on avoiding debris as the ship screamed for a higher orbit.
     
  4. Cpt_Buttersworth

    Cpt_Buttersworth Captain of the Saxon

    Messages:
    148
    Character Biography:
    Bio
    Aboard the Saxon - on Approach to Ganymede

    Captain Buttersworth grumbled to himself as he half squatted in an access compartment, a bundle of cables in one hand and a soldering iron in the other. Since their lucky escape at Ceres, he had assigned much of the crew to repairing the ships systems and even a few upgrades. They had the time, the trip to Ganymede was a long and boring one, especially at a slow burn. The ship tailing them had gone dark days ago, most likely flying ballistic, so they had been able to easy back on the acceleration themselves to allow Rachel, the ships XO, to recover faster.

    During their disastrous stay on Cered to pick up a few new crew-members, she had been shot in the abdomen whilst confronting a squad of UN Marines. The ships doctor, who had only been hired a few days beforehand, had kept her alive since then. It was an investment that had paid itself off almost immediately in Buttersworth's opinion, and he had even considered bumping the mans considerable pay-check for the work. He didn't, he wasn't made of money, but he had considered it. There was also the matter of the doctors romantic partner, a belter who had stowed aboard the Saxon during their hasty exit from Ceres and had only revealed his existence once they were underway.

    The Captain had agreed to allow the man access to food and water and even quarters (something the Doctor had insisted on), but the odd belter had learned to give the Captain a wide berth for the time being. Still, Buttersworth had kept his opinions to himself and some of his trusted crew for the time being, seeing as his XO was still on under the Doctors care.

    The panel in front of him sparked and died, taking the lighting for the corridor he was in with it. Cursing again, he slumped back against the opposite wall of the compartment and took a swig from a bottle of whiskey. Grimacing with satisfaction as he put it back down. Throwing the bundle of cables to the deck, he climbed to his feet, before unceremoniously bumping his head on the roof of the compartment. Grumbling further, clutching his head with one hand and with the bottle in the other, he stumbled to a communications panel and flicked a switch, "New guy...uuhh....Jake...get your tools together...theres a..uh...lighting problem on deck 3, corridor F that needs your attention."

    ---

    The lack of thrust allowed the Captain to approach the infirmary without making much sound, from outside he could hear the steady beep of an autodoc and muffled voices. Treading lightly he approached and leaned on one side of the doorway. Rachel was awake, half a dozen tubes and monitors were attached to where the bullet had entered, but she was talking, which was encouraging. "Don't worry about him Shay, he's a weird guy who hits the bottle a little too hard...Hell I've been working with him for a few years and sometimes I don't even know what motivated him...well besides money...and booze..." The Doc was moving around the medical bay, checking reading on various machines, doing whatever it was doctors did when they were busy. "He'll warm up to Jake soon enough, honestly I'm surprised he didn't just throw him out the airlock...He probably would have if he didn't think you wouldn't have jumped out after him...."

    The Captain left before either of them had noticed he was there.

    ---

    The bridge was quiet, the ship had been running on autpilot for several days so much of the crew had busied themselves with other tasks. The new helmsman was there, vaguely conscious, a nebula of beer and drink containers drifted along the deck around him, not quite floating in the low gravity, but not quite falling either. "Steady as she goes helm," Buttersworth said, in his most Captainly voice. The helmsman jolted back into consciousness, his hands dancing across the terminal in front of him in an attempted to look busy, "ahem...uh yeah..yes Sir...keepin' 'er steady."

    The Captain chuckled to himself and slumped into his oversized crash couch before taking another swig from the bottle. "Anything to report?"

    "Nothing SIr, she's all quiet...Well...actually Ceres has been lighting up since we left, huge amounts of transmissions heading in and out, widebeams, the whole shebang."

    "Hmm...thats to be expected, that station is going to be a bit wild until the OPA reassert themselves. Is Dobson's transponder still active?"

    "Sure is Sir, they still have control of the AWP centre." The helmsman didn't look away from his display however his voice betrayed his true feelings. Dobson had been his friend, and leaving him on what felt like a suicide mission had affected the man, even if he refused to admit it.

    Suddenly, the holotank that filled the centre of the bridge reorientated itself and zoomed in on the Jovan system, the moon of Ganymede at its centre. "Whoa...whoa what the fuck...holy shit!"

    "What is it?" Even as Buttersworth asked the question, the holotank began highlighting transponders in red and blue and started tracing lines between them, yellow triangles appearing all over the moon. "The MCRN and UNN fleets...they're engaging...multiple torpedo and PDC launches detected...Fuck...the mirrors..."

    "What about them?"

    The holotank reorientated again, zooming in even further, showing the curvature of the moon surface and dozens of UNN and MCRN vessels above, plus the hexagonal shape of the half a dozen mirrors in orbit, one of them was moving...falling towards the station. "Mother of god...They're bringing the mirror down right on top of the station..." The two men watched in horror as the mirror gathered speed before its holographic representation joined that of the station and disappeared, instead replaced by dozens of emergency beacons.

    "Helm...We need to accelerate."

    "Aye Captain, increasing thrust to zero point eight gees."

    As a rumble echoed through the ship, the Captain pulled a microphone down from the roof near his crash couch, "Attention all hands, this is the Captain. The mirrors over Ganymede have fallen onto the station and we are receiving hundreds of emergency beacons, UNN and MCRN forces are engaging in orbit. We are accelerating to reach the station faster, to provide any aid we can. Prepare to take on refugees and wounded."

    @Shay Lockley
     
    #4 Cpt_Buttersworth, Nov 8, 2018
    Last edited: Nov 9, 2018
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  5. Karen Ashoka

    Karen Ashoka Pilot for the MCR

    Messages:
    47
    Character Biography:
    Bio
    Ganymede Orbit

    With a flight suit and helmet providing your atmosphere and pressure, the only sounds that can be heard were those from the speakers built into the helmet, and those which travelled as vibrations through the suit, your body and to your eardrums. Currently, Karens hearing was a cacophony of shouting voices and the dull thrumming of twin PDC turrets as they spat thousands of rounds of tungsten in multiple directions. She was sucked into her crash couch and pulled this way and that, her flight harness holding her in place as she dipped, spun and banked hard in an attempt to avoid a firey death. Her corvette, The Atrax, was more than suited to the task, being an experimental vessel originaly designed for atmospheric flight, it had a lot of redundant systems, and a shitload of power.

    Four micro epstein drives provided the ship with enough speed to run rings around the opposition, and the RCS thrusters did the rest of the work. Still, it did nothing to relax Karens mind as she weaved through the burning wreckage of what used to be a UNN destroyer and unleashed another volley of PDC rounds into a UNN corvette trying to escape her targeting laser. She been hunting this ship from wreckage to wreckage as it tried desperately to evade her wrath, but she was gaining on it and it wouldn't be long before it joined its friends in the ever growing ship graveyard which used to be the staging grounds above Ganymede.

    Orders were being shouted, lost ships pleaded, screams and stern voices interrupted her concentration as the battle raged on around her. The Martian and UN fleets had been steadily building in power and numbers for several weeks, it seemed like things were perhaps going to blow over when as if waiting for the MCRN Simurgh and the Atrax to arrive, all hell broke loose. Karen had now been fighting for her life and that of her Martian brothers and sisters for the last several hours, sometimes hiding, other times hunting. Two other Martians had joined her aboard the ship, operating backup other systems so she could focus on the hunt.

    Banking hard to port she was slammed into her harness again, this time however, it paid off. Through the 360 display that covered every surface in the Atrax cockpit, she spied the UNN corvette make a break for the relative safety of the UNN lines and ignite its epstein drive in a desperate attempt to flee. With practiced efficiency, Karen focussed the targeting laser on the rapidly shrinking vessel, upon hearing the target lock validate, sh squeezed the trigger on the control yolk, the Atrax responding to her commands near instantaneously by hurling a dozen ship to ship missiles from its weapons bay at the UNN vessel.

    The UNN corvette tried desperately to shoot down the missiles but they were too many, and several explosions blossomed across its hull. The ship went silent, craters burnt across its hull as it began tumbling chaotically as its epstein drive flickered and eventually died. "Scratch one corvette. Returning to Simurgh for refuel and rearm."
     
    #5 Karen Ashoka, Nov 9, 2018
    Last edited by a moderator: Nov 9, 2018
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  6. Carson Boussaa

    Messages:
    14
    MCRN Simurgh

    The PDC are firing at full throttle. The Simurgh is a prime target, attack from all sides. But the commodore didn't let it happen. He deflected every attack and annihilated every idiot who dared to shoot his ship. There was only the UNN W Bush left. He had something settled with him. Not that the Commodore was particularly resentful. Just that he and the captain of the ship in question had accounts settled. And also that his ship and the only one left to destroy to create an orbital area to clear.

    The PDC meticulously destroys each torpedo of the opposing ship. With a simple wave of his hand, he ordered the final attack. Perfectly calculated by their battle computers. Like the grace of a classical music movement, 7 torpedoes came out of their silos at the same time. Then the gun rail fired immediately afterwards in a timed manner. The torpedoes were either destroyed by the PDC or destroyed themselves by going to a PDC line. The enemy combat computers could not have had time to calculate the projectiles from the gun rail. It pierced the engines of the reactors and the enemy PDC stopped.

    Some people dare to say that a fire in space is impossible. Technically yes, and that's what they're seeing right now. The engine flames feed on the precious oxygen for the crew. Then the flames made a gigantic leap forward. They probably hit an O2 tank. The electrical systems seem to be affected, which explains the sudden shutdown of their PDC.

    The ship slowly crashed into the icy ground of the ganymede. An image worthy of a great painting.

    - Airspace around the Simurgh, cleared.

    - Excellent, prepare the next step.

    The battle map now shows the orbit of Ganymede. The battle is still raging, but the area around the Simurgh is relentlessly empty. Steven looks melancholy at the 3d representations of the orbital mirrors that fall slowly but surely to the surface.

    This will be the problem of politicians, thinks the Commodore.

    - Where's Carson?

    - He oversees the depressurization of the rooms near the hull and is at risk of being hit, sir.

    - He should also supervise the preparations for the ground teams' launche.

    -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
    Carson
    --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    Under him is preparing an armed force sufficient to take and maintain control of the area where they will be deployed. The Combat Mechas are examined one last time while their pilots board them. Huge magnetic clamps then take the mechas one by one to insert them into a landing boat. The Marines march in unison while singing anti-earth songs.

    He turns his heels and picks up a carefully folded suit from a dispenser. The latter is made of a thinner fabric than the usual space suit. It is also accompanied by a transparent visor. Its concept is simple. During a fight, or when the fight comes as a surprise, there is not always time to put on a combination suitable for sudden depruseration. And when the part is deliberately depressurized because of a fight. The time lost in putting on a suit is an essential time.

    That's why the Simurgh has equipped itself with its transparent coveralls. They are very easy to put on. It can be placed on top of everything you have on you, since it adapts to your shape. And all you have to do is insert a special chip into the visor to display information. With the suit it is possible to move freely, since if the bags (incorporate into the structure of the suit) of air are emptied. Simply place the back of your hand in front of a dedicated station. The latter is a small rectangle in the wall, it connects to your suit and fills your air supply. Simple and very efficient, the stations are located at least one per corridor.
    Well, okay, it's not worth a good old combination. But it remains very practical in its moments, especially now.

    He comes out of the hangar with the suit in hand, and gets into an elevator. The latter descends to the special hangars. Light corvettes have a special way of getting in. It enters a sloping corridor that has their shape (Just to save space and get nothing but them in there.). Then the tip of their nose fits perfectly into a dedicated base. And two pliers come and grab her and make sure she's still. The inside of the clamps happens to have pipes that will connect to the ship and refuel (gas, ammunition, air and others). The pilot can exit through a ladder into a hatch that is renamed around the cabin.

    The elevator opens in front of Carson and the last one goes to station A (the only one used). On the wall is a dial (Who displays no numbers at the moment) that indicates how long before the Atrax can fly again. Two technicians operate in front of their screens to ensure that the ship has everything it needs. The pliers lock onto the atrax and the hatches prepare to pick up the pilot. Whistle then the door in front of Carson, where the pilots usually leave, displays a green light. And the door slides.

    - Here's your combination for depruseration. The ground crews will soon be drop. Oh and excellent work outside.

    @Karen Ashoka
     
    #6 Carson Boussaa, Nov 10, 2018
    Last edited: Nov 12, 2018
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  7. Remi Lièvremont

    Messages:
    3
    Character Biography:
    Bio
    The Stag, Dome 6

    "Boom!"

    His voice rang out in joy as he made a gesture with his hands to mimic an explosion.

    "Aww come on Remi."

    "Mi told ya, mi told ya he na gobya make it!" Remi wagged his finger at a big screen that had turned to static. The slingshot raver they had been watching had just burned up around Titan. Betting on such events was supposed to be illegal on Ganymede but everyone was checking their terminals for an update on their balance.

    "You didn't even slingshot Remi. You did five hundred kay!"

    "Yeah I nearly broke da Razorback's Dorn time!" Remi declared proudly. Having cashed in his bet he was planning on staying at the bar until he could barely walk.

    "Yeah and someone else did."

    "Then your ship broke."

    "I'll look for you in da fucking Guinness book of almost records."

    "Broken record more like."

    "Yeah, well, still alive," Remi countered, pointing towards the screen of static. He hadn't flown anything in person over a year. He services drone tugs. Flying them was more like issuing a bunch of sequenced tasks and letting them handle it. Fortunately his boss was in on the little remote drone piloting games he had set up. A headset, a joystick and they could race around Ganymede's bleak landscape.

    "Harsh."

    Remi didn't have a counter so he just slid his empty shot glass away and knocked on the bar. The lights flickered. A deep rumble ran though the ground. Glasses shook and jingled against each other.
     
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  8. Violet

    Violet Mackenzie

    Messages:
    250
    Character Biography:
    Bio
    Women's Wellness Clinic, Dome 6...

    Nerves fluttered anxiously in Violet's belly as she sat in the examination room, waiting for the doctor to come back in with the results from the latest test. There was something wrong, but no one had been able to figure out what it was yet. At least, not physically. Mentally and emotionally, however, Violet Mackenzie was an absolute wreck. There was no great mystery there as to why that was. She glanced down at the small bump of her stomach and frowned, brushing her fingers across the fabric of the shirt that covered her abdomen.

    If it wasn't for the ache in her chest and the child in her belly, she would have wondered if her time on the Albatross had been a dream or not. Reality had come crashing down on her weeks ago when that all fell a part. She should have expected the outcome, but she had been so hopeful that this time would have been different. Unfortunately, naivety had only landed her in a more difficult situation. It was hard to believe that only twelve weeks ago she'd been cruising the belt on a stolen ship with a ramshackle crew of survivors.

    How had everything changed so quickly?

    Dieter vanished on Pallas station. Keith fell in love with the Belter girl that they rescued, and stayed on Io to work with the OPA there. In an attempt to make things easier, she managed to convince herself that Dieter was probably dead. All that left Violet with little option but to sell the Albatross to Chloe, some OPA leader that then paid for her passage here to Ganymede and set her up with a job.

    Taking a deep breath, her eyes swept over the pastel-colored walls around her -- each one was a different color. She was told the blue was called robin egg, though she had no idea how closely the shade matched its namesake -- even if she had been born on Earth, she had left when she was a toddler. She had no memories of the planet. Various posters covered the wall, most were cartoonish representations of human anatomy that catered to the tastes of small children. They made her vaguely uncomfortable, and she shifted her position on the medical bed, the white paper loudly rustling from the movement.

    The door opened and the wispy doctor stepped inside with a clipboard in his hand. In the back of her mind, Violet registered how ridiculous it was for the man to carry it around. There were hand terminals and a plethora of gadgets the man could use, but he seemed to have an affinity for hand written notes. He was an older martian whose obstinate drawl still persisted; even though the man had not set foot on the red planet in nearly two decades. Silence stretched out as the man read over his papers, then he pushed his glasses up onto his large forehead and rubbed at his right eye with his hand.

    "Well, Ms. Mackenzie, there ain't no easy way t'say this, darlin'..." The man muttered, resting the clipboard on his leg as he raised his milky blue eyes to meet Violet's gaze. "But we'll need to up our dosages from weekly to daily. I know the injections are uncomfortable, but if we want to save your baby we don't have much of a choice."

    Violet felt her stomach twist into tight knots with dread. So far, the injections that she had received were excruciating to put it lightly. Each one had left her feeling weak, drained, and nauseous. Though she wasn't sure how they worked exactly, the medications were intended to treat a rare genetic defect, which Violet couldn't even pronounce, that her child had developed. The doctors assured her that it was cutting edge medical technology, straight from Earth.

    She ran a hand through her auburn hair and managed a faint nod. "If you think there's a chance that it'll work, Dr. Cardinale..." The young Scot murmured, trying to force a strained smile. Making these decisions on her own was exhausting. She had no one else to turn to or to lean on; but that was how things had always been for the woman.

    A reassuring smile formed on the doctor's features and he nodded, rising to his feet. "I'll go get the injection then, sit tight."

    ---

    When Dr. Cardinale returned, he was carrying a metal tray and a severe-looking blonde woman followed in behind him. She was holding a tablet, and was far more interested in the contents on the display than the patient. Violet could see various images and charts reflecting in her glasses.

    "This is Mrs. Henrietta Galvin. She is from our corporate office and will be observing me today. Standard procedure with new trials." Dr. Cardinale explained, nodding towards the woman in question. Mrs. Galvin raised a hand towards Violet in greeting, but she didn't look up from the tablet in her hand.

    He set the tray down on the counter and then lifted a large syringe off of it. Violet had grown somewhat accustomed to the frighteningly long needles throughout the course of this pregnancy, but this syringe was filled with a noticeably different liquid than all the others. Normally, the medication itself was a vaguely grey color and watery. This new shot looked to be a bright blue serum with streaks of white that all blended together, it also looked considerably more viscous than the others.

    "Erm... that looks different than everythin' you've given me before, Doctor. Is that the righ--" She started to ask, but he interrupted her.

    "It's just the next step in the process, Ms. Mackenzie. The previous injections were the first in the series." He raised the needle to demonstrate as he spoke, placing a gentle hand on Violet's shoulder to ease her back onto the medical bed. "This is the second."

    The woman lurking in the corner glanced up from her tablet with a scowl on her on face. Violet realized that the woman was recording a video with the device. Part of her wondered what Dieter would have said about all this. He'd always been a bit paranoid and on the look out for some sort of trouble. Perhaps that tendency of his had rubbed off on her.

    "I'm goin' to have to lift your shirt now, Ms. Mackenzie." Dr. Cardinale explained, as he always did, while he started to move the fabric out of the way so that he could administer the shot.

    Violet's heart was pounding loudly in her chest, she could feel her pulse thrumming in her ears. She was afraid, there was no getting around that.

    "Okay, now in one. Two. Thr--" Before the doctor could jab the long needle into Violet's abdomen, the door burst open. An exasperated looking doctor stepped inside.

    "Logan, we've got a problem. Strickland just called. Said he needs to speak with you urgently. Wouldn't take no for an answer."

    "I'm a little busy here."

    "I know, I told him that but he insisted. Said we need to start getting things ready now. He's already on his way to the hangar." The intruding doctor thrust a hand terminal into Cardinale's palm.

    It was as if everyone in the room had forgotten that Violet was even there. Her already pounding heart beat all the faster, hammering away beneath her rib-cage. Henrietta stopped the video that she was recording, gesturing for the men to step outside.

    Not a word was spoken to Violet.

    Unsure of what to do with herself, she sat up and tugged her shirt back down over her stomach. The words were muffled outside the door; but she could hear the tension in their voices. Her curiosity got the better of her, and she crept towards the door.

    "--yes, but one of my subjects hasn't had the sedative yet." Pause. "I can't just leave her here, Strickland. A near perfect candidate for my work..." Pause. "This is a delicate matter, if I disturb or sedate the mother, I could easily damage the subject or alter the effects." Pause. "Well, why didn't you inform me sooner, I could have had her prepped hours ago!" Pause. "Fine. I'll bring her with us. Don't you dare leave without us. Christ."

    Violet hurriedly moved away from the door, running a hand through her hair. What the hell was going on? There wasn't anywhere for her to go.

    The door opened and the younger doctor stepped inside. He had a grim expression and took Violet's bicep in his hand. "You need to come with me, Ms. Mackenzie. We need to get you to a better equipped facility." The grip on her arm tightened somewhat, making it clear that he was not asking.
     
  9. Gwenaël Suess

    Messages:
    4
    "Sir, we got imbound! Eight fast movers"

    "Take the torps out and give ´em hell" Suess ordered.

    7 Torpedos were send towards the two Martian ships that had just fired at them.
    A few moments later his XO reported "All 8 intercepted, one ship destroyed the other heavily damaged. Should we give them another? They won´t be able to shoot it down"

    Suess shook his head "Let the miccis run"

    "Sir, the MCRN has gotten control of the second quadrant" reported the Coms Officer.

    "How many?"

    "Reports say at least 2 ships, Sir. One seems to be the MCRN Simurgh"

    "Do we have ships to spare?"

    After a minute of tapping and swiping she responded "Three Munroe-Class and two frigates"

    "Get them her asap. We secure the line and then we´ll see what we do about the Simurgh"

    "Sir, three MCRN Destroyers incoming!" shouted his Sensors Officer

    "Launch torpedos and prepare PDCs. They obviously wanna die"

    Gwen walked over to his command console "Show me the battle with the MCRN Simurgh"

    The table displayed a detailed map of the combat area that the Simurgh had captured and how the battle went.
    He watched with gritted teeth as more and more blue dots dissapeared.

    @Zay Boussaa @Karen Ashoka
     
    #9 Gwenaël Suess, Nov 10, 2018
    Last edited: Nov 14, 2018 at 8:27 PM
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  10. Aden Peterson

    Messages:
    20
    Character Biography:
    Bio
    [Orbit - Ganymede]

    Aden's ship had successfully completed its burn to orbit, and almost instantly had been challenged by a wayward UNN patrol boat. Aden's ship had caught it out of position and in a firing arc weak spot. It only took a few bursts of 40mm fire spurting toward the ship to disable it, as the ship roared into orbit. Currently, the Morrigan-class he piloted wasn't even close to the biggest ship in the AO - nor the smallest (though not by much). Aden, however, had bigger worries as his commanding officer called out new vectors and targets.

    Aden wasn't focused on the number of kills or the state of the battle. He was, however, focused on one aspect of this little ship he was in. Its weakness. Every ship had a weakness, but the Morrigan-class had a bit of a bigger one - it had no ventral firing arc. That left it vulnerable. Aden focused on keeping enemies out of that arc, as he took in IFF data wordlessly. He just had to hope that the data was accurate - there weren't many giants, smashable, wannabe-splintertown style portholes on a military craft.

    Part of Aden wondered why they were fighting. Who had started it? Who had struck first, why were they fighting... but that part of him was quickly crushed by military doctrine and conditioning to fight and follow orders. In fact, the only part of him that wasn't in the battle was wondering and hoping, no independent or civilian vessels were dumb enough to enter the airspace, lest they are blown to hell. But, that wasn't his fault or his problem. He needed to make sure HE didn't get blown to hell, and that'd be the bigger challenge.

    Aden looked on his display, trying to figure out the optimum location to not get himself diagnosed with death today, and found a cluster of MCRN ships, including some welcome IFF readouts - cruisers, corvettes, and basically the closest thing to a battlegroup in the AO. It wasn't perfect, but it'd do to cover that... he hoped. Again, he mentally grumbled about the design of his ship. Two torpedoes for long range, no railguns for moderate range, and two PDCs for close range. But, what the ship gave up in terms of armament it gained in maneuverability and evasion. It would be incredibly hard to get a clean railgun hit on the ship, but if they did it was all over.

    PDC fire sprayed out from all directions as the small ship streaked toward the focal point of the battle, the MCRN Simurgh and MCRN Atrax. Aden's CO had determined the ship would at current be better suited for anti-torpedo duties, and thus didn't overtly engage any UNN ships unless provoked. The other two ships that had launched with Aden from Ganymede had quickly halved their usefulness by peeling off, picking off more than they could chew, and getting chewed up and spat out. Without any ships watching their blindspot, the need to get to the battlegroup was even higher.

    As the ship approached, a quick look at IFF showed that at least one flag officer - a Commodore, by the looks of things, was in the area. That made him, probably, the head of the battle. Aden's CO ordered him to contact the ship and get a new job, and that's exactly what he'd do.

    Tapping a few buttons, Aden directed a tightbeam toward the ship.

    --MCRN Simurgh, this is the MCRN Gladius. On station and requesting tasking.-- he said as he rolled the ship to allow the PDCs to get a bead on another torpedo that had entered firing range.



    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
    @Carson Boussaa
     
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  11. Karen Ashoka

    Karen Ashoka Pilot for the MCR

    Messages:
    47
    Character Biography:
    Bio
    Karen drummers her fingers on the top of the terminal in front of her nervously as she watched the ammo and fuel counters slowly climb. 94%...95%...Almost there, then she could her the afterburner and be out kicking arse and taking names again. The Simurgh had seen off the main threat in local area however new groups of UNN ships were closing in and Karen wanted to add some new notches to her cockpit. As she waited she ran her thumb over almost a dozen notches she had cut into the plastic around the upper rim of the cockpit she sat in, a notch for every hostile she had neutralised. The first few were bandits from the Martian desert, the more fresh ones however were all UNN vessels, corvettes, patrol boats, easy pickings for now...However she had requested some high explosive warheads in her resupply with the Simurgh, which meant hopefully she could take on some larger opponents.

    98%...99%...100% With the flick of a switch the Atrax unlatched from the Simurgh and accelerated away from the warship. "Pick me some targets Muhammad" she spoke into her helmet mic. She wasn't used to having two additional crew members aboard the already cramped vessel, however having a sensors technician to pick your targets and leave the hunting to to the pilot was a luxury that Karen intended to take advantage of.

    Across the 360 degree display several red lines linked the Atrax to several distant blue dots, the readouts of each target and their armaments followed in small, efficient infographics. A UNN Frigate had just arrived from another Jovian Moon and was burning hard for the Simurgh, it had not altered course to track the Atrax...a perfect target. Tapping at the terminal the targeting laser on the corvette lowered out of the hull and swivelled to face the oncoming ship before painting it and allowing the Atrax' targeting computer to lock on. The computer beeped at Karen instantly before changing to a flat beeeeeeeeep, target locked...She squeezed the trigger on the control stick, the ship vibrated as the missile launchers rotated dropping half a dozen missiles out the ventral weapons bay which then thundered ahead, thin trails of exhaust and vapour trailing behind them before rapidly dissipating.

    In the distance, PDC rounds lit the local area as the oncoming UNN vessel attempts to intercept the missiles, several began to zig zag, spiral and loop in an attempt to confuse the ships defence targeting computer. Several detonated harmlessly away from the vessel however two found their mark, slamming into the dorsal and ventral sides of the vessels engineering bay and splitting it in half with twin flashes. "Scratch one, picking new target," the Atrax banked to starboard and shot off towards Ganymede.
     
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  12. Carson Boussaa

    Messages:
    14
    Yan rushed with his daughter into the underground shelters when both sides started shooting at each other. He is now in a rather crowded room squeezing between several other people who are hiding here too.

    United Nations soldiers are present, currently there is only one in the room. Shortly after the attack, the ground began to shake under the impact of crashing debris. He heard a mention of the name Simurgh. That big MCRN ship that keeps staying above his house, at home. He always reminded him of a kind of giant metal giant that watches the world from its cloud. Well, the giant hit....

    As soon as the vibrations stopped, so did the communications. If he understood what the soldiers were saying to each other, it would seem that the Simurgh deployed some kind of drones/probes that scramble and hacks communications and drone in the area. He asked for explanations, but the marine simply pushed him away and ordered him to stay further away.

    Then the marine stiffened and ran out of the room. Additional noises are heard, the ground vibrates as if something, no...several things, heavy was landing. Then silence, a heavy silence. No one dares to leave the room. A few minutes later, bullets were heard. He serves his daughter against him.

    The bullet noises stop and their hand terminal vibrates then.

    "This area is under military occupation by the MCR. To keep you safe, stay at home and/or surrender your weapons. Retractors will be killed without warning or taken prisoner in accordance with Article 15 of the Space War treaty of 2258."

    A Martian marine in motorized armor enters in the room.....

    -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    Light points emerge from the Simurgh and approach the ground of Ganymede. They are ships that carry combat equipment. A mech is noisily released from its claws and lands on the ground causing a shock wave. Transport vehicles as well as Marines get out of a landing boat.
    Anti-aircraft guns were installed and engineers prepared to land larger canon in order to hold the area. Corpses of UN soldiers lie in a crater caused by a bombing. Some Martians take the trouble to pick them up for the brought in we don't know where. In the main dome, soldiers kneel in line with their hands behind their heads and disarmed. Next to them lies the bodies of their friends. Behind them the flags of the Earth are burned as the Martian soldiers find them/drop them off

    An officer reads them their rights as prisoners and what will happen to them in accordance with the treaty signed by Mars and Earth and despite Martian military laws. A detail that the Commodore has requested. For any external observer who analyses the situation, only one conclusion can be made. Either Mars is very effective in quickly adapting and taking control of an area. Either they had long planned the invasion of the area...or Ganymede.

    In the distance, a group of 5 recon force Marines accompanied by a tank left for the nearest UN controlled area.
    ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    The Commodore assisted, with a smile on his face, the perfectly orchestrated landing. The truth is that he always updates the plans of invasion and occupation. History that everything is ready in case of surprise war. He holds documents in his hands that are stored in a red portfolio. The strategy to follow in case of war with the United Nations. In case of war, Mars and the command center cannot give orders at the same time to all its ships, mainly because of the delay in messages. Hence the importance of planning everything.

    Steven is currently following Plan A. The purpose of which is to secure an area for the MCR and take as much coveted land as possible while waiting for a ceasefire. Politicians will take over to negotiate the finality of things and keep as much as possible of the new territories captured. He hopes that Plan A is still applicable and that it will not be forced to move on the B and C. That is to say, the High Command indicates to him that the war between the two factions is official and declared.

    A beep appears on the strategy table. A ship is sending a message to the Simurgh.

    - This is Commodore Wright, approaching the Simurgh and helping us hold the area currently established. I will assign you other tasks in due course.

    @Karen Ashoka @Aden Peterson @Gwenaël Suess
     
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  13. Danger

    Danger Arceneau Mercantile

    Messages:
    19
    Character Biography:
    Bio
    Market Place, Dome 6


    [​IMG] The sudden sound of klaxons blaring brought a sudden sinking feeling to Danger's stomach. The added rumbling and startled cries of other shoppers around her only added shards of icy dread in her veins.

    "What the hell?" came her quiet curse, green eyes spanning up towards the transparent dome overhead. Now what was going on? The redhead had barely spent a few weeks away from the damage crisis out on Ceres. She had thought that coming to Ganymede would give her and her crew some precious time off without having to worry about the United Nations and the Martian Congressional Republic at each others throats. Event the Outer Planets wouldn't dream of bringing the war to Ganymede, it was the breadbasket of the belt. Fuck with Ganymede, and you fuck with the survival of every Outer living in the Belt.

    "What's goin' ahn?' McGowen's thick brawl came from her right.

    "Hell if I know." their was a distinct rumble, and then a few tech began to run. As one went rushing past her, Danger caught their arm.

    "Hey, what the hell is going on?" she cried, trying to get a sense of what the klaxons meant.

    "That's the alarm. A safety blister has been deployed."

    "Safety blister?" it took a second to register what that meant. One of the domes had failed or something big had damaged it.

    "Shit."
     
  14. Remi Lièvremont

    Messages:
    3
    Character Biography:
    Bio
    Dome 6

    Remi watched in horror as his terminal streamed a video taken from the ground. The mirror had been a bright spot in the sky that suddenly went dark. Then it became a field of glittering spots. A bright blue flash was a cruiser in low orbit being totalled.

    Another video was streamed live from a drone. This showered where those shimmering spots had ended up. Wreckage strewn across the surface. The outside of Dome 4 shattered.

    Remi downed his shot. "Time to fuck off then." He didn't know what his plan was. He only knew that he was fond of his own skin and wasn't going to wait around. Wasn't anyone here he cared enough for to check on.

    After his bold proclamation he slipped off his stool, stumbled and lost his balance. He heard a crack as his head hit the corner of the bar. There was a white flash. Everything span. It was a few seconds until his vision settled and he was looking up at the ceiling. It felt as if his eye was bleeding, but when he brought his fingers up they did not come away with blood.

    Alcohol dulled the pain but he could already feel the swelling and bruising around the eye starting.

    "Come on kid," a hand grabbed the front of his jacket and pulled him to his feet. It was the big man with the rediculously beard who had been arguing with him over the slingshot race. "Don't fall down again unless you want to get trampled to death."

    Looking around, Remi saw that everyone was already leaving the bar. It wasn't just a fall that foiled his escape plan. He couldn't even remember where he had been planning on going. What ships were going to take off with fire being exchanged up there.

    "Thanks," Remi replied, straightening his jacket indignantly. He grabbed a damp paper placemat off the bar, scrunching it up and pressing it to the pain under his eye.

    He limped out of the bar. People were running past and bouncing off market stalls. Docks or emergency shelter? Remi made a snap decision and decided he would rather chance a ship than wait to die in a bunker.

    Ganymede was the life of the belt. It was supposed to be where the Mars and earth coalition was most secure. A joint project for the progress of all.

    Of course it was where it all went fucking wrong.
     
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  15. Violet

    Violet Mackenzie

    Messages:
    250
    Character Biography:
    Bio
    Before Violet could offer any form of verbal protest, she was dragged out of the examination room in a rather brusque fashion. Outside of the private room, she was shocked to see how chaotic the main clinic was. A few children were being escorted by staff, many of whom were clearly sick. From the brief glimpse she caught, it didn't seem as though any of their parents were with them, which struck her as odd.

    Unfortunately, there wasn't much Violet could do to investigate the situation, as she was quickly led down a back hallway that led away from the main entrance of the facility. The small clinic looked as though it was in the middle of an evacuation, but she couldn't tell why. Had something happened? Judging from the bits of the conversation that she'd overhead, she suspected that something was going to happen.

    "Where the bloody hell are you takin' me? What's goin' on?" She demanded, digging in her heels in an attempt to come to a stop.

    The doctor scoffed at her stubbornness, yanking harder on her arm to keep her moving. Being as small as she was, and in the lighter gravity of Ganymede it wasn't difficult to drag her along. He led her into what appeared to be a small warehouse that served as a receiving dock of the various shipments for the clinic. Dr. Cardinale and Henrietta were already sitting in an electric cart, waiting.

    "It's imperative that we get you to a facility with the proper equipment to treat your child's illness. Don't worry, we'll get you there." Cardinale attempted to assure Violet as she was shoved into the backseat of the cart. Judging from the way that the younger doctor was manhandling her, however, Violet very much doubted any of this was intended to help her.

    Then the ground shook. Nearby crates shuddered, a few even toppled over from their perches. A distant boom rumbled through the air.
    Moments later klaxon alarms sounded throughout the facility, and Violet could hear the echos of other alarms screeching outside.

    "Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, what was that?" Violet cursed, flinching as the alarms rang out. Of course, no one in the cart actually answered her. Was it because they didn't know themselves? Or because they didn't want her to know?

    Cardinale was already on his hand terminal again, muttering under his breath as Henrietta floored the accelerator. The little cart sped out of the docking bay and out into the main street. If Violet had thought the clinic was chaotic, the streets of Dome Six were outright hysteria. It reminded her of Ceres in a way. When she looked back to the doctors and the corporate representative, she realized that the stark panic that should have been there in the event of a catastrophe wasn't present. All three of them had a look of grim determination about them -- jaws set, eyes narrowed, brow furrowed.

    They had known this was going to happen. Whatever this was.

    Absently, Violet reached down and brushed her fingers across the tattoo on the inside of her forearm that was hidden by the sleeve of her jacket. Heathen in training, it read in simple letters. Dieter had given it to her the night he'd snuck her out of the hospital after she'd been shot. Then, it had been a joke. There was no real reason for her to sneak out of the hospital, but she had for the adventure of it.

    Now, things were entirely different, but the premise was the same. Only this time she'd have to do it without Dieter's help.

    The younger doctor took his hand off her arm, instead using it to brace himself against the seat in front of him as Henrietta swerved wildly through the crowds. He held his hand terminal in his other hand, flipping through various feeds. "Holy fuck... one of the mirrors fell out of orbit. What are those trigger happy idiots doing up there?" He muttered under his breath.

    "Oh come on!" Henrietta shrieked, slamming on the breaks.

    The force was enough to sling Violet forward into the back of Cardinale's seat. It was the first time that Henrietta had said a word, Violet was rather surprised to hear how shrill the woman's voice was. When she looked out the windscreen, Violet saw what had caused the unexpected stop: a crowd had stumbled out of a bar and clogged the street with confused pedestrians.

    If ever there was an opportune moment, this was it.

    Moving as quickly as she could, Violet tossed open the small door and scrambled out the vehicle. The doctor seated in the back with her clawed after her, grabbing a hold of her wrist before she could make a clean getaway. Violet had managed to get halfway out of the cart before he'd ensnared her arm.

    "Violet!" Cardinale shouted from the front seat, his voice cracking into a tight squeak. "Stop! We're trying to help you!"

    "The hell you are!" She shouted back, trying frantically to wrest her hand free.

    "James, get her under control!" Cardinale hissed sharply, reaching back to grab at Violet's jacket in an attempt to help the younger man haul her back inside.

    "I'm trying!"
    He growled back through grit teeth.
     
  16. Walter Jenkins

    Walter Jenkins Private First Class, UNN Marines

    Messages:
    3
    Character Biography:
    Bio
    "Remember your training and you will get through th-" The team leaders voice cut out just as a huge plume of dirt erupted into the air where he was standing just moments before. The cloud of dirt and grit hung in space for a moment before slowly descending, its return to the surface delayed by Ganymede's weaker gravity. Walter was momentarily distracted by this spectacle before a pair of gloves hands grabbed at his chest armour and shook him vigorously, "Snap out of it private! In case you hadn't noticed, theres a war going on!" The helmeted face of another UNN Marine filled his field of view and brought him back to reality. "S-Sorry Sir!" He shouted back, not realising his voice would probably blast the other marines ears over the radio. "Get up and start shooting!" came the reply.

    Walter had been casually wandering around the surface of the moon not several minutes before, marvelling at the sheer natural beauty of the place, the enormous bulk of Jupiter taking up half the sky, the trillions of stars filling the rest, the systems distant star, Sol, glimmering in the distance. His reverie was shattered when his patrol came under fire, bullets whizzing overhead and mortar rounds exploding around him. He had barely enough time to jump into a crater with the rest of his squad before a low flying MCRN warship flew low overhead and strafed the patch of ground his team had been previously occupying. Following it, dozens of dropships sailed overhead, the red circle of the Martians emblazoned on their hull. Since then his team had no option but to hold the line.

    "Return fire!" Came the order, and pushing up onto his knees he peeked over the top of the crater, rifle at the ready, and began firing at the distant red markers that denoted hostile soldiers. The team poured thousands of rounds downrange, forcing the MCRN squads into cover of their own, but still the dropships came, dozens and dozens more, until it seemed like his tiny squad was facing down an army. Over the squads channel the sound of screaming could be heard. It sounded so far away, so unimportant in the face of impending doom. He dismissed it and continued firing, watching as his ammo counter slowly deleted.

    "Fuck is that a mech?!" He heard over the channel a short time later, his arms numb from the vibrations of the rifle. In the distance, the imposing silhouette of a armoured mech could be made out, its full form obscured by clouds of particles, dust and grit. One by one, their rifles fell silent, their ammunition exhausted. Do we fall back? To what though? The whole stations going to be occupied soon...

    25...14...7...2...0...and that was his, he was out as well. He rolled onto his back and slumped against the hard packed surface of the moon, Jupiter watched on from the horizon, uncaring in the face of Walters approaching death. The ground around him erupted, for a moment ht thought a mortar round had finally found its mark, but the flurry had kicked up dust all around him and his squad, soon replaced with stark light. A moment later the dust cleared and Walters eyes refocussed, a new rifle was being offered to him, butt first. Holding it was a UNN soldier, a determined smile on his face, and behind him UNN dropships descended on the battlefield, ramps slamming down onto the surface of the moon as they disgorged teams of UNN Marines.

    Walter grabbed the rifle in one hand, and took the hand of the soldier with the other and was pulled to his feet. With a roar, the UNN force seethed forward.
     
  17. Carson Boussaa

    Messages:
    14
    Carson, equipped combat armor, along the corridor. The infernal sounds of the PDCs are heard as the Simurgh trembles terribly every time it receives a torpedo. He stops suddenly according to his instincts. He was right to do so. The rest of the corridor in front exploded with a crash and flew into space.

    shit, he think

    He heard screams on the audio channel and as he turned around he saw dead crew members, their feet taped to the ground by their magnetic soles. But the whole rest of the body floating.

    - I need the nearest route to the bays.

    - Carson, all deployments are stopped. The area around the bay is severely affected!

    - Damn it!

    - The last convoy just left, you could jump and catch it!

    A 3d trajectory appears in his HUD vision. It could do it. He gained momentum and jumped through the rift that appeared earlier. His free fall towards the ganymed soil only lasts a few moments. Slightly lower is 2 automatic conveyors. It is roughly a square-shaped vessel, piloted by an AI. Whose main task is to move large objects. It also has a small room on board to carry troops and/or technicians. Both conveyors are connected, by Kevlar cable or something like that, to a big gun. The latter will be quite useful for holding a siege. Its dorsal thruster is activated and considerably slows down its fall speed. When it reaches the level of the conveyor, it hangs on the external handle. The hatch just next to him opens and allows him to enter the interior.

    Inside is a landing ramp with a ladder at the bottom that leads to the pilot/technician's cockpit. The place is mainly occupied by Marines and some technicians to operate the numerous combat machines deployed. They nod their heads to him and everyone returns to the world inside their skulls, mentally preparing for battle.

    Reports gradually appear before Carson's eyes. The Simurgh was hit hard, the torpedoes ripped off a lot. The fact that the Simurgh had to protect the deployment convoy and himself from not helping it. Deployment is stopped, normal the bays are severely affected, all the corridors leading to them are either full of holes or too dangerous to use. The ship will therefore make a retreat while the most important damage is repaired.

    So they lost the orbital support of the Simurgh. But at least they deployed enough troops and war machines to stand alone for a while.

    A tremor informs them that they have landed. The ramp in front of them opens and the Marines come out. Carson comes out last, his eyes focused on a map of the troops' locations. An officer comes to stand at attention in front of Carson.

    - Sir, the other officers are inside the main dome. Do you want to join them?

    A tingling and a thumping noise is felt. The conveyed gun just lit up, getting ready to fire

    - No, I'm not a coward to stay behind the front lines.

    Carson checks his gun one last time. A luminous ball passed over his head and crashed further into enemy lines. Dust and ice rise very high in the air and take all their time to descend. Creating a semi-impermeable curtain.

    All around him teams are struggling to get everything ready. Technicians equipped with machines even try to dig trenches, other install makeshift workshops to assemble other machines that have arrived as spare parts. Fighting lines are formed, support lines are formed, anti-aircraft lines are set up. Everything is ready.

    - Fire!

    The cannons start firing.bombards enemy lines and raises gigantic curtains of dust enough to literally reduce the brightness. Carson boarded one of the troop transports towards the enemy lines.
     
    #17 Carson Boussaa, Nov 14, 2018 at 12:53 AM
    Last edited: Nov 14, 2018 at 3:55 AM
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  18. Gwenaël Suess

    Messages:
    4
    "Sir, entering engagment range with the MCRN Simurgh in 1 minute!" reported his Sensor Officer.

    "All crew prepare for battle, bring up torpedos and PDCs, let´s show those martian punks who´s the King"

    "Entering MCRN controlled space, Sir"

    Suess stood leaning onto the ops table looking down on a tactical sheet showing the William King. He straightens himself and looks around the bridge.

    "Let´s do this" he said loudly.

    The lighting changed to a dim blue.

    "Target lock aquired, Sir. Ready to fire" said his 2nd Weapons Officer.

    "Give `em something to chew on!" ordered the Admiral.

    ...

    A shockwave goes through the ship, Suess tumbles but manages to catch himself.
    The coms panel sparks and goes black, the Kings Coms Officer screamed in suprise, raising her arms to screen her face.

    Gwen rushes over to her crash couch.

    "Everything alright?" he askes the young women, she had been a promising choice, very talented.

    "Yeah yeah, Ima be alright, not sure about this shit though" she made a gesture towards her station.

    "Get me a mechanic on that! Miller damage report!" he returned to the ops table already back in his element.

    ...

    "Nine torpedos incoming!" shouted the 3rd Weapons Officer, his voice almost breaking.

    "Intercept them" ordered Suess in a calm tone.

    He walked over to the mans station and put a hand on his shoulder. The Officer didn´t even stop his work, but he calmed down significantly.

    The ship shuddered again, but Gwen stood straight.

    "One hit, Sir. Midsection hull damaged. Compartments 56 to 59 vented." said his XO.

    "You did good." he said to the Weapons Officer.

    He turned back to his ops table.

    "Sir, the Simurgh approaches us. Seems like they wanna try their luck with Railguns"

    Suess smiled. "Power up our railguns and bring us closer. One or two good hits will finish them"

    The point of gravity shifted as the massive Truman-Class maneuvered.
    Lighting went down to the minimum as the Railguns were charged up.
    ...

    "Fireee!" Suess shouted across the bridge.

    He heard the subtle hum as the Railgun fired and saw the small golden stripe pop up on his target display as it hit the Simurgh.

    "Sir, the Simurgh is retreating. Should we pursue?"

    The Admiral shook his head.

    "Report to fleetcom that we have ceased control of the 2nd Quadrant, MCRN Simurgh had to flee the battleship with heavy battle damage but managed to deploy ground troops"

    ...
     
    #18 Gwenaël Suess, Nov 14, 2018 at 11:07 AM
    Last edited: Nov 14, 2018 at 8:26 PM
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  19. Anicarn

    Messages:
    15
    Character Biography:
    Bio
    Before him lay many bodies, the Martian flag on them. The victims of the William King attack. These are the victims they managed to recover. The remains will remain forever in the cruel cold of space. The Commodore sighed and withdrew.

    Engineers are working on how best to spot the damage here and there. The holes in the wall are repaired by patches. Bodies are recovered and then identified. Is the lights in the hallway turned off, touched or made on purpose?

    - Commodore, the Simurgh's power is only 85% of its usual level. Fortunately, the Superlight gun reactor is not affected. Otherwise, we wouldn't even be talking to each other.

    - Show me the damage

    The Simurgh 3d map shows many PDC-induced holes and holes, many of them torpedo-induced holes. Thanks to the preventive depressurization the damage was considerably reduced. But the dead stay.

    - The Simurgh will be operational in?

    - The biggest damages will be repaired in 1 hour. 40 minutes with any luck. But I recommend that you get to a shipyard as soon as possible. Just to rebuild the outer hull. The inner emergency hull and depressurized parts do the job well. But eventually we'll reach limits.


    Suess, I'd have your skin! Asshole!
     
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  20. Aden Peterson

    Messages:
    20
    Character Biography:
    Bio
    [Ganymede Orbit - MCRN Gladius]

    Aden nodded to himself as the speakers in his helmet came back with the response from the Simurgh. It was strange, Aden thought, how things sounded. Larger ships didn't depressurize themselves every time they entered combat, and the sounds through a communications loop would be much more open and whole, echoing and background noise able to be heard. That was not the same in smaller ships, like Corvette-class vessels or Morrigan-classes like the Gladius herself. In those, the air was pumped out of the ship, and microphones for communication - both inter-ship and intra-ship - were dealt with by microphones inside the crew's vac-suits linked to the ships computer. Triggering his inter-ship loop, he spoke.

    "Received and understood, Simurgh. Good hunting," he said, as he closed the loop and informed his CO, as well as the rest of the crew, what was going on. As the ship streaked through the sky toward the Simurgh, everything went wrong at the same time.

    A UNN counterattack seemingly had gone off quite well for the Blues. Aden watched his screen as a volley of torpedoes, out of range of the Gladius's PDC batteries, slammed into the Simurgh, causing massive damage, with only one reciprocal hole punched in the UNN warship. As if that wasn't bad enough, as far as Aden's display could tell, the two vessels had begun duking it out with railguns. Aden accelerated the ship slightly. A faster ship was harder to hit with railguns. It didn't matter much, though. If the King decided to fire torpedoes at him, he was dead either way. There was also no way his puny 2 torpedo launchers could fire out enough ordinance to even make the PDC grid of the UNN ship break a sweat. Even with the rapid-reload abilities of the launchers, there was no way.

    That corvette on the other hand...

    Aden's attention was diverted from the retreating form of the MCRN cruiser as a UNN corvette swung into view, making for a torpedo launch on the Gladius. The ship got its bearings and fired, sending two torpedoes flying at the Martian vessel, and the Martians sent back two in return, as PDC fire streaked from the two ships, trying to intercept the ordinance. Both ships had at what was essentially torpedo point-blank, and neither PDC grid had enough time to react properly. Each PDC grid was able to take down one of the torpedoes, but a handshake of explosives was still shared between the two vessels. Status displays all across the ship shone red as the torpedo impacted, exposing crew quarters and kitchen facilities to space as wayward PDC fire caught and damaged the Gladius's CIC.

    Aden spun the ship about and lit off the thrusters, spiralling in what he hoped looked like a barely-controlled death spiral toward the planet. With any luck, people would assume he wasn't worth attacking and simply leave him alone until they could regroup. MCR control of this part of the battle had just been shattered.
     
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