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[Ok, this may be a bad idea, but I've decided to creat my own RPG. Granted, there are a few already going, but I don't think I'm going to join them. I have a thing for spaceship combat y'see. Well, there are a few revisions from my other topic. First off, to simply things, there is only 1 defense, which is the Tachyon Field. It essentially absorbs a percentage of energy weapon firepower directed at the ship and stores it in the energy cells. The percentage is greater depending on the firepower of the beam. At extreme firepower, almost all of the energy is incepted. That's another thing, there are classic weapons, and lasers. There are not other weapons. (Classic is missile type). In the original brainstorming thing, we established a nice story but couldn't really work out the factions without extensive work. It was really something you had to be 'in' on. This will change. There is no background story you need to know. Think of it like Alpha Centauri or Civ - you pick your faction (with these starting stats) and weave it into the storyline. The 8 factions:

*The Mercinim Empire. Very strong trading conglomerate, strong military. Feudal-type government. Lot's of territory. Current People: Me (Joveia)

*The Arc Pluris. Very strong scientific culture. Moderate strong up-to-date military. Poor in everything else, trade isolationists. Possess Heffler Beam (v. powerful weapon.) Small territory. Current People: Danielmna

*Fortinbras Alliance. Every non-aligned world signs the Fortinbras pact, guranteeing mutual protection against other major powers. This gives it an absolutely huge territory - far larger than any other culture. But fleet cannot defend this and they are spread out unevenly across the galaxy. Diplomatic problems in times of peace. Current People: Mag Steeeeelglass

*Non-Star League. This is the remains of the Sol Federation, it exists in only one system - Sol. It's long establishment grants it enormous manpower and excellent resources. All planets are of course highly industrialised but they possess no extant territories. Small elite military.

*Greys. The Grey's are a mystery alliance race that have appeared around archaeological digs recently. They have not been encountered before now. Make up whatever you want about them, but make it alien. Tech level is unkown. Current People: Pyro.

*O-Force. This is the occupation force the Sol Federation put on the worlds it conquered. They are now a seperate government. Average in all respects except v. good military. Military based culture.

*Ruby Ray's. This is a fundementalist culture on the edge of the galaxy that was seperated from the rest of humanity by sheer bloody mindedness. They are fundementalist, and have a very strange religion. May possess some kind of psionic/telepathic powers. Make up the rest.

*Pirates. The ubiquitous pirates. They are have a good deal of potential, but suffer from lack of leadership. Tech etc.. is not really fixed. Depends on the area.

Technology is very simple. Make up whatever you want, but please try and put some scientific sounding basis in it. Don't make up super weapons or anything like that, if you know what I mean.

Well, now I've done something I hope will be intensely playable, I'll try and make the first post in this RPG. To my knowledge... everything you need is right here. This RPG will be very user defined, in my opinion, some of the best RPG's are. (and some of the worst too.)]

I'll take the... Mercinim Empire, if no one has any problems with that? Ok. Story begins now. Oh btw, you can be anyone you want within your relative faction, but you and only you direct how your faction develops. You may choose a faction that someone else has already started directing, however you must decide how it develops together. And I would really prefer if people picked the available factions before choosing to pick others.

To all respects, Mercinim had 3 capitals. One of them was Chakroy, the trade capital, it specialised in the mass of dealings between Mercinim and most other worlds. It was also home to the merchant construction yards which spanned the planet. Then there was Uomohoy, the science capital. It was composed mainly from elite families and wealthy, brilliant academecians. A hot tourist spot of course, the planet was beautiful and possessed no disfigurement of any kind. Then there was Bandiyardnay, the military capital. It was the command centre, nerve-centre if you like for the Mercinim empire. A very large sprawling world. Before the administration split, it had been the one and only 'centre one' for the many worlds of the Empire. In it's orbit, were no less than 3 Red-class battlestations. For it's supplies, there was the asteroid belt and the gas giant, being steadily stripmined to harvest minerals and gasses for the military and stardrives. At any time, there might be around a hundred cruiser class vessels in orbit. Not much compared to some other governments, but not laughable either.

Gomor Entz thought about all this as he prepared to receive the most important assignment of his life, on board the battlestation.

He had spent around 3 hours here. He arrived early of course - as was his custom. Perhaps it might impress the superiors, he had thought, but unfortunately, his superiors probably wouldn't even know. They were late, for more than 2 hours. He didn't know why. The polite young female secretary had just specified 'business' without any indication. They might be sunbathing on Ohmi beach or heading off an invasion for all he knew. He disliked being out of touch with his crew. Poor things, they hadn't been allowed to leave the cramped quarters of the the MSS Ilorciam.

'Hello Gomor Entz. Gomor Entz is it?' Said a man who appeared out of thin air, seemingly. Gomor Entz recovered himself.

'Ah, yes sir.'

'No need for any honours Gomor.'

'Yes sir.' Gomor nodded.

'No need for any honours.' The man said tensely.

Ah.

'Yes.'

'Call me Irwin.' The man definately sounded offended.

'Yes Irwin.'

'Thankyou.' The man said. He walked into his office, by the receptionist. Gomor followed him.

'We have a situation my good man.'

He didn't bother replying.

'Did you hear me!?' He asked angrily.

'Yes... sir.'

'Don't call me sir!' He said angrily again.

'Yes, Irwin.' Golom thought the man was definately off-kilter. Perhaps it was staying on the station for most of his natural life in an enclosed environment. Or maybe the extremely small space of his office. Golom found a chair and sat down.

'This situation I was talking about... It's difficult.'

'I see, Irwin.'

'Yes, it is most certainly going to be a challenge. You've heard of the Non-Star League?'

Did the man take Golom for a fool?

'Yes.'

'There's problems.'

'I see. Irwin.'

'Yep. Very tough for us there. The Non-Star League is planning something. You know, we practically border each other on a very thin strip of space occupied by neutrals.'

'Fortinbras?'

'Yep. Fortinbras. Some of the first. We have reason to believe the Non-Star has signed some kind of agreement with them, has something to do with passing over there space. I don't need to tell you the implications.'

'Non-Star borders other empires as well... perhaps...?'

The man was decidedly excited.

'No perhaps. I cannot allow us to consider any other option. Do you realise, they will not forgive us if we fail?'

'Fail sir?'

'Fail in defending Mercinim. We can't allow something like this to threaten us.'

'That's a good idea sir.'

'So, we're going to mobilise the forces.'

'Sir?'

The man, (Golom didn't even know his name. He guessed he was an General, but there were not stars on his jacket) continued.

'Please, we should keep it personal. Please, Irwin.'

'Irwin, would is it you want me to do exactly?'

'Ah yes.'

He shuffled some papers on his desk, only to realise there was just a single piece of paper there. Irritated, he threw it in the bin.

'We're mobilising. Mobilising the whole damn front.'

Golom recoiled in surprise. The 'whole damn front' was one hell of a front.

'That's, interesting.'

'Yes, I should bloody well think so.'

'So what, do you want me to do?.'

'Ah yes. I want you to go on ahead. Sort of feel out the general impression of their forces.'

'What, sort of, diplomatic-like?'

'No. Aren't you familiar with the concept of the canary?'

'Canary, si - Irwin?'

'Yep. In the old, old days before interstellar travel, they mined the earth with people. And sometimes the mine was full of poisonous fumes, you know, and so the miners would die.'

Gomor waited for the description to end.

'Well, so they sent a canary down. And the canary would be really affected by it. I'm not sure how. I think it died or something, and then the miners would just go out. You're the canary Golom.'

'Th, th...ankyou.'

'Yep. That's what it's all about!'

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There are only 3 kinds of people: those who can count, and those who can't.

[This message has been edited by Joveia (edited 05-19-2002).]

I wrote up a nice post this morning, but it isn't on this computer.

What I can generally say is that I'll be taking the Arc Pluris, that they will be centered in the Hyades cluster, about 150 LY from Earth, and that their empire will, in many respects, mimic that of Rome.

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"Welcome to our Pirate outpost. Please enjoy your stay, and realize that any irregular actions can and will be used against you in the afterlife."

I'll take the greys. I'll try and post sometime this week (tonight if im feeling inspired).

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It's Difficult To Comprehend How Insane Some People Can Be. Especially When You're Insane.
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<Incoming Transmission>
<Mine crew 7 --> Main base>
<We have found the source of the strange readings command, it appears to be... sorry its to dark, im heading in further>

John looked dully into the dark cave, switching his suits lights to low power and signalling for the rest of his team to follow. He had spent most of 3 months on this rock in non-star league space, and it was turning out to be one of his more boring events of his entire life. "Nothing but fricken space dust on this bloody rock" John grumbled.

There was a thump, John shrieked

John pulled himself slowly up from his fall. "And damned rocks! Stupid waste of my time ball of..." he trailed off. John brutally kicked the object sending it flying in the low gravity of the tiny astroid. He proceded further into the cave watching his scanner to see where the readings would take him. Every second or so his scanner beeped, the object was to make the scanner beep as quickly as possible. Johns scanner picked up the pace as he walked even deeper into the abysmal cave, a definite sign of him being on the right track. Even with his lights on John couldnt see much of the cave he was in. He made out basic features of the craggy rocks and dusty bottom, nothing interesting to see anyways. He couldnt put the lights to a greater power without endangering what little battery power remaining on his suit. John percieved as if wind had passed near him and could then almost here a low pitched noise of the wind passing by his ears from the exo-suits sound sensors.

wooooosh

"Man, this place blows"
"No flip, boy" John replied to the nothing in an exosuit behind him, "With that kind of insight you could be a bloody reporter for the N-S press." John turned around to face the failure command called a teammate. Nothing was there. "What in the stars!" John exlcaimed. The other member of the mine team turned quickly to face the empty space too, pulling out his laser-chisel in the process. The glow of the laserchisel powering up melded in with the light of Johns suit as both members looked around, quickly scanning their surroundings.

It was there, they gasped

Standing before them stood a being so graceful, its malelovence could almost be overlooked. A grey humanoid shape, with a tall torso and thin but powerful looking
arms crossed over each other. On each of the beings four fingers slender, long blades rested. Its head was devoid of features, its legs placed next to each other much like a balerina before her dance.

"Damned Hell!" John screamed, "What in flip is that beast! Shoot it fool!" He barked. No response came from behind him. The deathly silence that followed allowed John to notice that the glow of the laserchisel was gone from the walls of the cave, and replaced by it were distinct spots of crimson. John did not allow himself to turn around, transfixed by his seeming adversary. With all the courage and speed he could muster, john quickly drew out his las-pistol began to lift it to the chest of the thing. All that John pointed at the beast was the bloodied stump of his hand. The beast looked like it had not even moved, except for now the crimson flecks were along the arm of the beast and its claws dripped with the same substance.

John tried to scream, it felt as though his heart had stopped beating

The beast still appeared to not have moved to Jonh, only another patch of crimson was added to its body. Mine team leader John Mesko gazed down slowly at his chest plate, instead he merely saw a large gash into his armor, bleeding profusly where his heart should have been. "Guess it wasnt just a feeling" were John's last thoughts.

// Well, its not good writing but there it is, its at least half what i meant it to be.

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It's Difficult To Comprehend How Insane Some People Can Be. Especially When You're Insane.
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The light cruiser the MSS Ilorciam skipped over the asteroid belt with the right of way that a strong military armament could provide.

'Avast freighter, prepare to be boarded!'

The captain Gomor Entz spoke into his mouthpiece. He turned away and covered his mouth to restrain the laughter. His crew's mouths puckered in the expression, but one harsh glance from his lieutenant stopped a loud gaffaw.

'This is the Non-Star freighter Jabbarees. Please explain your actions, Mercinim ship.'

'There is no explaining needed!' Gomor spoke angrily. 'I have decided to take over your weak, underpowered vessel. For the last time, avast or prepare for pain!'

The freighter accelerated towards it's destination, somewhere outside the asteroid belt. Gomor ordered his ship to accelerate in pursuit. It was somewhat faster.

Gomor had been explained to by the lieutenant-general (he had found out later) Irwin Romal. He was to basically provoke the Non-Star league. Of course, they were prepared to offer an excuse, that one of their ships had gone renegade. But in the meantime, he had a pass go card to cause as much havoc and annoyance as possible.

The ship, the Ilorciam, was a classic Mercinim vessel. A UFO saucer shaped frontal bow, where the crew were housed, and the light 'greeny' interception lasers were positioned. Behind it, situated above the neck of the ship, if you will, was the main power generator. Wispy cords extended along the thinnest part of the ship where they matched up with the X shaped wings, behind each naccelle a manouevring rocket. Above it, a platform housed a light inception fighter. The main power drive was situated at the back of the vessel, forcing the ship along. Unlike the Arc Pluris, who modelled their vessels on actual living space organisms, it was not blocky where it could be aestheticly pleasing, and not natural where it could be utilitarian. It's the sort of vessel you build when you're not sure how you're enemy is going to come up, and you decide to save him the same trouble.

This would be his first freighter. The non-star nearest base was Pluto, he thought. Perhaps a Fortinbras would come to their aid, if they had any ships nearby. He could hightail it way before then.

His ship was armed with 6 greenies, light conventional lasers that were weak and did more to scar the hull than simply crack it. Much unlike the heavy Burners. His ship had 3 of those, but using any one of them for an extended period of time was likely to drain his ships engines. Using all 3 of them at the same time might cause a reactor explosion.

In the way of defenses, the Mercinim were like most other races. They used a Tachyon Field, or simply 'dampener' for short. At any one time, it covered atleast of his vessel in a clean sphere. It didn't matter if you had a mystical Heffler, or a woefully bootleg greeny, the tachyon's were sure to catch the light and halo it in a bright white glow. His ship had about 60% inception rating. He heard that same engineers had reached 80 or 90%, but the generators were so big they stuffed out everything else, including weapons space.

Of course, you might make a bigger field effect. But then, the generator size increased exponentially. That is why almost all navies at small, frigate to cruiser sized ships. Alot of advanced navies didn't even bother putting weapons on cruisers, just fighter bays. With fighters, you could get about 75% without even trying. But why was he ruminating this...

Perhaps to pass the time. The freighter had put on some good speed, it was about to clear the 80th parallel, almost 5 more degrees from the sun and they would be out. Gomor cursed. Mercinim ships almost never carried missiles of any kind.

'Avast, hold or we will burn you to cinders when we catch you!' He spurned his rival with the in-system megaphone.

'You know.' Drolled the Non-Star Earthborn. 'Sol will really have the hots for the Mercinim empire if you do that.'

'Oh really? And what makes the Mercinim empire know that we're here?'

'Sir?'

Gomor glanced at the navigation display. About 50 light frigates had appeared and were closing in his position. That wasn't the point. That wasn't the point at all. The point was, that they were closing very, very fast.

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There are only 3 kinds of people: those who can count, and those who can't.

[This message has been edited by Joveia (edited 05-14-2002).]

I think I'll take the Arc Pluris. They seem very similar to the Polaris. Biological Ships, high tech, and their name is almost an anagram of Polaris.

It was a quiet night. The stars were shining, and you could see freighters, carriers, even the occasional cruiser with a fighter fleet zipping about, here and there. For Sgt. Anderson, this was bliss. He was an amateur fighter pilot, but he thought he had a lot of potential, and so did his superiors. The good ones, at least. On an emergency mission, he had once recieved co-command of a large Delta Level X-200 Cruiser. He hadn't liked it, really. He was suited for fighters. Strong fighters. Fast fighters. Instead he was assigned an old, half-broken Gamma Battalions fighter, that old company that went out of business what, 200 years ago?
(Note: If you have read any of the Ender Series works by Orson Scott Card, you will understand an element of my post. I am using relativity for people to go on very long journies, come back, and age very little while the regular world ages a lot. However, this is only for well-off people or people in the military. I hope this is ok.) He had been assigned to the out-of-they-way outpost planet of Kry'Ul, of the Empire of the Arc Pluris, but he wanted to go to the Homeworld. The place where they made the OmiKron Fighters..... He drooled at the thought. They were in the Prototype stage, and the was a rumour of a major reactor problem. A fatal reactor problem. But they were fast. They were strong. They were what he wanted... If only he could pilot one of those.... If only.... FIVE of the new Compact Hefflers! About a third of the power of a Heffler, decent mass. Basically heavy lasers A few missiles and such, but it wasn't strength that was the advantage of this baby. It was speed. In the Militia Advertising, it seemed to dodge everything you fired at it.. Andrew knew that wasn't what it was like in real life, but it was close enough for him. Suddenly, something snapped him out of his daydreaming.

"Sargeant Anderson! Get out of your damn daydreaming and back to this planet!"
"Yessir, Major!"
"Sargeant Anderson," He continued, more calm this time, "We've taken note of some border conflict between the Mercinim Empire and the Non-Star league. Both the Mercinim and the Non-Star league have requested our help. We have little contact with the Non-Star League, and the Mercinim are not exactly our allies, but we did sign a treaty a while back. We've decided to try not to risk much in the way of the Elite Non-Star Army, so we've attemped to create a small, temporary squadron of elites, to fight fire with fire. Everyone with any potential, skill, or fighting ability that can meet the standard of a Delta-Level craft is Part of it. You were able to sucsessfully, without any prior training, Pilot a Delta Prototype Cruiser. Sargeant, you're going to become a par tof the Arc Pluris Elite Battalion. We are arming you with state-of-the-art technology. It isn't superpowerful, but we're better off than either of them, so we need you to do your best. You are being assigned a B-500 Prototype OmiKron Fighter. Anderson nearly fainted at this. He had been waiting for this opportunity for years, and now it was his chance to show them he deserved it. "But Sir, isn't there a Reactor Flaw?" "Well, Sargeant, you'll just have to deal with that. Now go log in at the Battle Station."


More to come, as soon as I finish my schoolwork, I will edit more in tomorrow.


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Got l33t?

[This message has been edited by Danielnma (edited 05-16-2002).]

The Ilorciam was a fast ship, granted. Mercinim valued speed, light and many weapons, and lightweight, medium class armour. But that paled compared to the speed of the intersystem corvettes the Non-Star league used. Having no need to travel interstellar, they could pack a really fast engine. And there were always lots of them. Missiles were the main problem right now though.

'50 missiles inbound. Taking evasive.'

The ship hammered it's poor inertial stability as it swove towards the heavy asteroid that was nearby. It depended on how good the missiles were. Whether they would evade or...

The missiles wove around the asteroid and slammed into the Ilorciam.

'Heavy damage!'

Gomor Entz didn't need to be yelled at. He could hear the explosions, most of them were detonated, not at the vessel, but at a short distance. Like a depth charge, the Non-Star didn't want to miss.

'Ok? Jump!'

'But sir...'

The dangers of jumping in an asteroid belt were considerable. It would certainly hurt if the asteroid was in the way of the ship when it jumped. Like, the asteroid causing the ship to explode.

'Jump!!!!'

The ship jumped.

*Boom*

Everything went black.

-------

Irwin Romal looked at the explosion of the ship on his screen, as his eyes, were tiny asteroid probes in the belt. He wasn't sure it would be fatal. Probably so.

Briefly he considered whether or not to rescue them.

The Non-Star would have tracked Gomor as well. It would certainly look suspicious.

Too bad. He thought.

Gomor was a good soldier. Had been a good soldier, anyway.

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There are only 3 kinds of people: those who can count, and those who can't.

[This message has been edited by Joveia (edited 05-19-2002).]

<Incoming Transmission>
<Mine crew 7 --> Main base>
<URGENT: Oh god! Help! A thing is here! Its got... long, long claws, its a greyish almost emotionless, faceless beast. Send help now! Lemme try my laser cutter at the....>

static

"...Greys" Commander Donald Krane said after an eerily long pause taking in all the minute details of the panicked transmission.
"Greys, sir?" his assistant asked inquisitively.
"Yes" Krane said. It seemed as if he would say nothing else on the subject, and then he continued, "Greys are a new lifeform we've encountered in places around known space. Not much is known about them, they ambush mine teams like this and arent heard from much after that. Most of the time the surrounding mine teams are pulled out of the area, and the area is bombed out of existence."
"So..." his assistant tried to grasp the situations, then his eyes widened, "No, no! We cant do that here, the signature, they were so close, we cant just destroy it, we have to find it!" he trailed off.
"No" the commander stated firmly. "Gather the surrounding mine teams at the spaceport, we are leaving, and this place is getting sent to hell."
"We cant all get off."
"Wrong. There is a freighter landed at the space port. As we speak it is being prepped for launch, everyone currently here should be able to fit abourd, albeit crowded." Commander Krane stood up from the chair he was sitting at. He walked through the comm station, nearing the exit before annoucing to the many people, staring into their local work-screens. "Everyone out! If your not to the space port in 2 hours, you'll be atoms with the rest of this rock!" At the end of his announcments the lights in the center shot on and bleary eyed workers stumbled after the commander confused about the randomness of the situation they were unwillingly in.

//More later, can't think now
//Danielnma: Pallas wants to to arc pluris too, so keep to his ideals a little bit please.
//We need more fricken people. Advertise, advertise.

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It's Difficult To Comprehend How Insane Some People Can Be. Especially When You're Insane.
[url="http://"http://www.AmbrosiaSW.com/cgi-bin/ubb/forumdisplay.cgi?action=topics&number=60&SUBMIT=Go"]visit the just games forum or die![/url]

Joveia, I know the Pallas is Arc Pluris too. I don't recall you saying anything anything at all whatsoever about A. Being the leader of a faction because you take it, which we most certainly do not seem to be, and B. Only one person per faction. It will be a very sillyl, small, doomed-to-fail RPG, if we can only have a few people. In my opinion, it will mak eit a great deal worse. Pallas is Arc Pluris, and.....? If I also become Arc Pluris, it won't do anything much to Pallas. If he will be part of that faction, why can't I be? Anyway, here's my post.
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Sgt. Anderson zoomed around in his new OmiKron Fighter. Or at least, that' s how it looked on the simulator screen. Sure, the practice sessions were a bit boring, after all, most everyone had done them twice before, though not at this difficulty level. But Anderson didn't mind, because it was a taste of the actual experiencce of being in an OmiKron. Though he felt he couldn't wait till the actual encounter, this was good enough for now. This simulation was an imitation of the fastest route from the Homeworld planet in Hyades, to the outskirts of the military area of the Arc Pluris's territory, and the possible expected obstacles and hindrances they might meet on the way. This route was a famous path for military deployment, and was nicknamed the "Appian Way," After the famous Roman road. Though the mission was supposed to be Top-Secret, no doubt some officials high up had heard about it already, and the information would be everywhere in a month. Oh well. Anderson had recieved Alpha-9 Level standard clearance, meaning he was practically a General, Misson Commander, and a bunch of other things all in one. This had its ups and downs, and Anderson was still getting used to both. It was going to be tough work, dangerous work, but somebody had to do it, and that somebody was Sgt. Anderson. Oh well...
A loud voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and ruining his practice session on the simulator in the process. "All troops! Report to the boarding station within 0400 hours! The Elite Forces are departing for the Homeworld!" Upon hearing this, Anderson scrambled up, deactivated the simulator, and ran to the Transport Deck to prepare a small craft for the trip to the Boarding Station, which was situated on the nameless moon of the planet Kry'Ul, his current outpost. It was about an hour's trip away. Here we go...., He thought..

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P.S: Avatara, I had a plan for the pirates to use when someone took them up, where my guy gets lost and stuck in pirate space, and has his life saved via means of an unholy alliance with one of the smaller pirate factions.... The idea is, he helps this faction rise to rival the stronger ones, by giving them temporary use of his fleet... Do you mind if I do this? If it changes something you had in mind, tell me, you're welcome to make changes to it.
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Got l33t?

[This message has been edited by Danielnma (edited 05-19-2002).]

[Right. I won't labour the point - but I really would prefer if people took all the factions before doubling up on them first. However, you've made your choice... Just a note - the Arc Pluris are not meant to be like the Polaris - however you can make them like that if Pallas/you want. And I also meant for them to be very cold towards the other factions and trade isolationists, but again, that is alterable by Pallas/you. Remember to do things together.]

The first of the new children rushed out onto the yard to play. Minister for Science, Jormo Theard, watched them.

'This is the newest batch of children.' Said the advisor, who was really running the project. 'It should prove a worthwhile endeavour.'

'I see. And what do these ones do?'

They walked around the glass world where batch #39 lived.

'They can communicate using a form of neural/biological telepathy we've developed in them. Essentially as a single collective, well, we hope we've learnt from past mistakes. We're breeding them for command-level staff, intelligence.'

'And these?'

They walked around another large glass covering. The children there were fighting each other, hurling rocks. There skin was pitch black and as tough as bark.

'These are the soldiers. We've bred them for superior strength, speed and loyalty.'

'You isolated a loyalty gene?' Said the Minister unbelievingly.

'Yep. Well, sort of. We've made use of genetic engineering once again.'

They continued.

'These are the workers, if you will.'

The children there were large, almost man-sized. But they had no capacity it seemed for self-awareness. They played together like toddlers.

The Minister flinched unconsciously.

'That's nice. But how are you going to get it past Uomohoy?'

'They'll go straight to Chakroy. We predict we'll reap about 50% more profits when we do this. This will net us about an extra trillion credits a year.'

'I see. Well, I can't officially give my approval to this,' He winked. 'But carry on.'

-------

Gomor Entz recovered himself in the black of space. Cold, hungry and intensely aware that he was not dead.

He called out for help. His voice reverberated across what walls he could not see. He was floating, by the way.

An explosion in the ship's drive. They probably hadn't hit an asteroid at all. An asteroid did not explode a ship's drive and then leave the rest of the ship unharmed. Well, relatively unharmed. The amazing thing was he heard nothing, not even a hiss. Whatever his predicament, it was an airtight one.

Perhaps some of the missiles had gone in too close to the drive and fractured it. It wasn't unlikely. The Mercinim didn't skimp on armour, but it wasn't fantastic. Artificially constructed and applied to ships via good old fashioned plating. Not the most advanced technique, granted.

He watched something float by. He grabbed it. It was a thumb.

He let go. A thumb.

*Whoosh*

He remembered his zero-G. Blowing along, he did a rapid breastroke in mid air. He hit something. A wall. The next 5 minutes he spent etching out his environment in the dark.

He was in the bridge, there was no doubt about it. When the engine went, the anti-matter drive must have executed a power-overload and blew it up. Damned fool thing. The computer should have stopped that from happening.

He went over his situation. Ok: No power. Limited air. Unknown location.

The air would have stopped recycling. Otherwise he might stay alive for a day or 2. All the simulations they had done where the air stopped and power stopped where with a full crew, though. Perhaps he did have a while.

He floated around, seeing if he get some good water and pushed the indistinct masses out his way.

He hoped someone would come and rescue him. Hopefully Irwin.

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There are only 3 kinds of people: those who can count, and those who can't.

[This message has been edited by Joveia (edited 05-17-2002).]

I suppose it's the forfeit of not posting. I'll come in as another faction when I finally do.

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"Welcome to our Pirate outpost. Please enjoy your stay, and realize that any irregular actions can and will be used against you in the afterlife."

Pallas, it's fine if you want to Arc Pluris. Afetr all, you already have a post. Just try and put up with me existing. Oh, and Joveia, the "Cold towards outsiders" thing is YET ANOTHER Polaris-like habit. I think you're unconsciously doing this or something.......
I have a post all ready myself, but I can't get to it till this Monday...


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Got l33t?

No, actually. I could have admittedly used better words, more like 'outsiders are cold towards them.' They're military is nowhere near as strong as the Polaris, even with their advanced technology (advanced = 1 extra weapon). However, this is changeable if you want to be cliche.

And the Arc Pluris were originally the dictators of the Coranus empire, which is a plug I began way before Nova's board even went public. They were to have superior technology, isolationists and be very aggressive. But I ramble...

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There are only 3 kinds of people: those who can count, and those who can't.

[I think I'll join up. I'll be one of the Pirate groups. (I'm assuming from your post that they aren't exactly unified and so have smaller factions of their own) - give me a few days to upload a post.
Danielnma, I'd appreciate it if you could shorten your big dashed line across the top of your second-to-last post a bit, it'd make the topic easier to read on an 832x624 resolution.]

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"I'm a controversial figure. My friends either dislike me or hate me."

What are you doing with resolution like that?!?

Btw, I think I'll take Fortinbras and make a post soon.

Oh, and could I make a few changes to it? I don't think they'll be too much. The main one is changing it so that not all worlds sign it. It's just one pact. There are others, but Fortinbras is by far the largest. And I think requests to join the pact could potentially be rejected, and a few planets might wish to remain completely neutral, etc..

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"Vampiric chickens are spiffy. Bak bak bak ARRR!"

[This message has been edited by Mag Steelglass (edited 05-18-2002).]

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My computer sucks.

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"I'm a controversial figure. My friends either dislike me or hate me."

We need another thread. *making one*

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There are only 3 kinds of people: those who can count, and those who can't.

The man, Gomor Entz, was in trouble.

At the moment, he was holding his flashlight, and pointing it towards the power socket on the small Mercinim cruiser's bridge. It was rather difficult to make out what had happened, but apparently a large burst of power had electrocuted the floor and just about everything standing on an electrically conducive surface. That included all of his lieutenants. Where the disembodied thumb came into it, he had no idea.

By almost unbelievable luck, he hadn't held onto to safety supports and when the ship had tach'd, he had been thrown over. That throwing over lasted long enough for the anti-matter drive to blow, and him then to land on the floor. Probably a split nano-second after his lieutenants had been fried.

Well, luck indeed, is luck welcomed.

Now he was searching for a way to cause a disturbance, so that someone would pick him up. He didn't care who would pick him up, he just wanted to be picked up.

The power socket was a tumbled mess of wires and circuitry. The more detailed component part of the computer might still be intact. If he could wire the spare batteries with the computer, he might be able to activate the distress beacon.

He took out one of the wires and pulled. It came way out of the socket, eventually he found himself floating along the darkened room, tethered to a wire. He then, measuring the distance to be great enough from the socket to the control pad, tried to cut the wire.

The wire didn't want to be cut. Bother.

He searched around the place for a tool. Any tool... Ah. There was a tool, his teeth.

He started nibbling away at the wire like a little rodent. Heck, he would be days up here before dying. No need to panic...

---------

The capital of the military, if you will, was Bandiyardnay. The large capital was uncharacterisically empty of ships. Only a few cruisers were sprinkled here and there. The rest of the ships were mobilised around the Non-Star League. That one star system...

Irwin Romal would be in command of the assault. He had judged this from the attack on Gomar Entz:

1) The Non-Star League was mobilising their forces
2) The Non-Star League was in a vicious mood today

1+1 = trouble.

He had under his command several NLC Cruisers, or hotships, for short, for the way they often exploded when firing their Burners. This explosion was often shared however.

They weren't the backbone of any assault, the assault would come from the frigates and destroyer-frigates, or dessies. The frigates didn't have a slang word, but if they did, it might be strafer. A combination of all 3 of these classes was sure to provide difficulty. He was planning on running a few wargames while he had time out here.

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Gomor Entz finally nibbled away at the wiring, tearing away it's rubber sheathe. Then he managed to twist it, pull, fragment it, stress, enough to break it away. To isolate the battery was simple. It was contained within the socket. He pried open the cage and wrapped the exposed wire around one of the batteries. Then he trailed the wire and flew over to the main computer.

From here on, it would be easy.

Connected at last, now was the time to activate. He pushed the battery emergency activation switch, and the ship bubbled to life. Artificial gravity flicked on, the lights flicked, on the computer flicked on, Gomor's stomach flicked off.

Auughhhh.... His crew were sizzled red lumps. A mass of carcerated flesh, burnt. They fell to the ground, blackened corpses. Anti-matter drives generated alot of power. But he could have guessed that.

Then everything flicked off.

The lights went off, the gravity came back up, the computer went off, and he went off the floor. Damn. The batteries were powering the entire ship. He just wanted the computer. There must be something he could do.

He connected the wire to the other battery, and then resolved on his plan. He would activate it to allow enough time to shut down everything else on the ship. It would require quick reflexes. He tied a piece of string to the trigger and floated along to the main computer. Then he pulled. The power came on.

/main directory
/power supplies
/power distribution
/cut off power to everything except: computer
/activate

The power came back off just as he activated. The computer went off as well, of course. He made his way back (he was getting used to it by then) and connected to the 3rd battery. Power came on, but only visible from the computer screen.

/main directory
/emergency beacon
/activate

The beacon was activated.

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There are only 3 kinds of people: those who can count, and those who can't.

The FNS Rabid Elephant approached its new base, one of the many hidden naval bases of the Fortinbras Pact military. With the Non-Star League and the Mercinim Empire preparing for war, many ships had been sent to this little strip of the Fortinbras Pact to keep an eye on the fighting. Mag had been recalled from pirate duty just after he had made a raid on a Mercinim freighter, so he was anxious to offload his cargo, as well as get an idea of just what he was supposed to do in this soon-to-be warzone.

The sensors/communications officer got clearance to dock. "Bay 4b, cap'n."

"Thanks." The bay turned orange on the screen, and Mag headed for it. The crew on the Rabid Elephant consisted of a pilot/captain, a sensors/communications officer, a gunner, and an engineer. Mag was the only one that had actually been doing much after they had raided that freighter. Ah, well. That meant that it was up to the other crew members to unload the cargo...

This docking bay must've been designed for smaller ships, because the 15 meter Rabid Elephant fit in perfectly, with little room on any side. After doing the post-flight check bit, the crew got out.

"I need to go see what all we're here for, you guys unload the cargo." After a few comments about lazy captains and such, Mag headed into the main area of the station. A very short, very young man met him.

"Captain Mag Steelglass?"

"That would be a correct assumption."

"I'm Commander Eabon, the station's commander. Come with me, and I'll give you the briefing and such." Mag liked this Eabon's casual style. He highly disliked formal situations, and especially military ones, as they were inefficient.

The station was pretty large, to service all of the ships that might be needed in the area, and it took a while before they had walked to the commander's office. The sat down at one of the computers, with a map of the surrounding space, showing the politital boundaries and the window that the Non-Star League and the Mercinim Empire had been given access to. The station they were on was just barely off to the side of the area accessible by the warring powers.

Ships and fleets were shown on the map, with shiptype and affiliation identified. There were a few Fortinbras ships shown, each tailing a fleet of either League or Mercinim ships. More were coming in to the various stations that had been reactivated.

"Your job is to patrol about in and around this window we've granted them, and keep an eye on their ship movements. Don't allow any ships to leave the window. Don't start your guns blazing before you have to, mind you, but try to keep their ships in the area granted them."

"That's it?"

"Yep."

"Also, I have some cargo on board, and yeah...." Mag occaisionally didn't finish his sentences when he was sure the other person could figure the rest out.

"I was told about that when you were sent in. Some dockworkers should already be there, unloading."

"K, thanks."

"Your first launch will be tomorrow. I'll send a briefing to your computer. It probably won't have much in it." The man counted on his fingers, apparently seeing if he had gotten to everything he was supposed to get to. "Yeah, that's it. You can go away, now."

"Cya, sir." Mag left the room, and headed out to explore the station. He wanted some food, as he hadn't eaten during the mission....

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"Vampiric chickens are spiffy. Bak bak bak ARRR!"

Ok, Avatara, I'll change it. I would have done it sooner, but I haven't been around.
Mag: RABID ELEPHANT. CSS RABID ELEPHANT.. ok...... that IS a joke, right?

Still don't have my post, but I'l try and make it extra long ot make up for it. Oh, and I use a resolution just like Avatara's, by choice. I just like it. I mean, what's so bad about 832x624? (75 Hz) Not that my computer is bad or anything, oh no......

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Got l33t?

[This message has been edited by Danielnma (edited 05-19-2002).]

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c'mon, ship captains who name their own ship often pick witty/odd names, USS enterprise etc. are goverment named ships. The frieghter Krane is about to leave on is going to be named "Anasazis(sp) luck"

edit: and this really should be in the other topic, only post rpg junk here.


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It's Difficult To Comprehend How Insane Some People Can Be. Especially When You're Insane.
[url="http://"http://www.AmbrosiaSW.com/cgi-bin/ubb/forumdisplay.cgi?action=topics&number=60&SUBMIT=Go"]visit the just games forum or die![/url]

[This message has been edited by Pyro (edited 05-19-2002).]

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'tis a joke. For more info and such on it, check the info booth.

Oh, and where'd the CSS come from? It's FNS. If I posted CSS, there's an error that needs fixing.

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"Vampiric chickens are spiffy. Bak bak bak ARRR!"

Don't worry Mag, I knew it was. And the CSS was just a typo I overlooked. Avatara, I added a PS to my most recent story-related post, could you check it out and give me a reply to it please? It's SOOOO annoying to know I have a post, but not be able to post it....

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Got l33t?

Now, stop it.
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Gomor Entz was picked up by the Non-Star league.

Waiting, the freezing cold getting to his limbs, he sat there while a clamp thundered down on the ruined vessel. Who was it going to be?

A light, a halo shimmered around the top of the large green lattice-metal viewport. There was a drill being employed, a heat-drill. Very soon, it would be removed and someone would come inside the vessel.

A man floated inside. Gomor's stomach sank. The picture, symbol, of the Non-Star league was displayed quite clearly on his vacuum suit.

He removed his helmet. The face of a young man, probably 20 years old. Brown hair, blue eyes, and a determined expression. Was there a touch of... hate in it?

'I am lieutenant Colslaw, of the ship NSS Guardian. You are advised to accompany me on board my vessel.'

Gomor nodded meekly and followed the man up into the white light of the attachment tube.

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Irwin Romal watched the Non-Star league ship approach Gomor Entz's vessel. This changed things.

He cursed and his breath was visible, outlined against the milky reflections of the holographic projection. He stared into space.

They were in ostensibly 'neutral' territory. The Fortinbras had been kind enough to let them traverse it, temporarily. At the moment, that was a great thing. Irwin was mindful of the dangers of ever letting the Imperial Fleet get too far away from home...

The blame would be laid on his head, if Mercinim technology fell intact into the hands of the Non-Star league. They were not talking about small fighters, small frigates, but an entire Mercinim NLC Cruiser. In terms of Mercinim, they had the best technology, the best weapons, the best... the best of everything. Literally. Letting it fall into the hands of the Non-Star might reap incalculable damage.

Usually military vessels came with an auto-self destruct sequence. The power source was independant of the drive. If the ship detected a non-Mercinim vessel approaching, or received a certain signal, it would self-destruct.

Irwin glanced mournfully at the red button on his desk. As soon as he heard the Gomor had survived, he pushed. Slowly at first, the frantically, and then realised, at last, that somehow, the explosion had damaged the auto-destruct as well.

The Non-Star would *not* get their hands on Mercinim technology. He pushed his breath into his chest, expanding his diaphram.

He would of course, contact his headquarters for permission to do this. But, a conflict had been predicted as likely. Just... accelerating matters would do no harm. To be sure, the mighty fleet he had stationed on their makeshift military starbase should be _quite_ enough to destroy the vessel Gomor Entz was in.

Or else, he could have a stand-off with the Non-Star and demand the return of Gomor and the surviving crew. Then he could destroy or salvage the vessel...

The Mercinim Empire's resources were... thickly spread, but a single vessel couldn't be called useless however many he had packed up with him.

That's the plan, he would go in and demand the release of the ship and Gomor Entz. Failure to comply...

He contacted the Imperial Council's representative on Bandiyardnay. Instead, the holo-image flickered to that of the council.

He bowed.

'Greetings General.' Said the icy voice of one of the military representatives. 'We've been expecting you.'

'My lord.' He bowed again. 'We have detected the disablement of one of our cruisers - evidence points to a sit - '

'We have received the same evidence. Yes, you have permission to escalate the conflict.'

'Very well my lord. My only concern was for the safety and stability of Mercinim in our absence.'

The representative seemed suddenly unsure what to say.

'Your concern is unnecessary. The Empire has never been more ready for the trying tests ahead. Please' He waved his hand. 'Go to it.'

The screen flickered off.

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The Mercinim fleet, 11 Cruisers, 23 F-D's, and 50 L. Frigates jumped into the patch of empty space the MSS Ilorciam had tach'd out of.

They were in time to surprise the Non-Star fleet, just as it was docking with the ship.

'Excuse me.' Said Irwin Romal. 'I believe that ship is the property of the Mercinim Empire, along with all it's renegade crew. Regardless of their poor judgement and piracy in attacking our esteemed friends the Non-Star League, we wish to have it back.'

There was a pause, then he presumed the opposing captain's voice interceded.

'I'm sorry, but I have direct orders from our government. This vessel was attacking Non-Star concerns, and was disabled closest to Non-Star space.'

Irwin suddenly had a burst of insight. Fortinbras might lay a legitimate claim to the spaceship, since it was now technically under their influence. If he could somehow convince them to demand the ship, then give it back to the Mercinim Empire... But that was by no means sure.

He turned around to his lieutenant.

'Snap off a message to the nearest Fortinbras starbase. Tell them we'd like to business.'

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There are only 3 kinds of people: those who can count, and those who can't.

[irwin now has the bright ideas]

[This message has been edited by Joveia (edited 05-20-2002).]

[This message has been edited by Joveia (edited 05-21-2002).]

(Wouldn't that be Irwin suddenly had a burst of insight?)

As Mag was finishing his yaki soba noodles, the owner of the little restaurant came up to the bar from the kitchen, looking like he had official business.

"Anybody here by the name of Captain Steelglass?"

Mag finished the noodles he was chewing, then said, " 'At's me. "

"Here." The owner handed him a datapad. "I'll get your bill tomorrow or so."

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Fifteen minutes later, the Rabid Elephant powered up for launch. Apparently, one of the Mercinim ships had been disabled, and there was some argument as to who had claim over it. Mag was to head out and check it out neutrally, so Fortinbras could make a decision without any outside influence.

The sensors/communications officer opened a channel with the station command. "This is the FNS Rabid Elephant, bay 4b, requesting clearance for exit of the station."

"Roger that, Rabid Ele-" their contact in the control room started cracking up. After a bit, she got control of herself, again. "That's a mighty interesting ship name, there, captain. Send in your mission ID." Mag plugged the datapad into the ship's computer, found the file with the ID in it, and sent it in. After a few moments, their contact came back on, again. "You're cleared for exit, Rabid Elephant. Good luck."

"Thanks." When gravity switched off in the bay, Mag lifted off a few feet above the floor. The bay door opened behind the Rabid Elephant, and Mag slowly eased the ship out in reverse. Once out, he rotated the ship 180, pulled a good distance away from the station, and headed off to the Vhati Asteroid Belt.

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

He dropped out of hyperspace some distance from the two fleets, then stealthily closed in until he was within communications range, but not close enough to be detected. He didn't want anybody getting any bad ideas (bad for him, that is).

"I'd like sensor logs and all that bit from when the incident started, please."

"O- oh. Greetings, Fortinbras ship. Non-Star sensor logs being broadcasted now."

"The Mercinim Empire's sensor logs are now up for download."

"Wait a bit while I watch these, please."

The head commanders from both groups agreed. The two sets of logs were different enough in length to cause Mag to suspect that at least one group had done some editing. Boal, the sensors/communications officer, combined the two into what most likely actually happened before putting it up on the main screen and broadcasting it to the two fleets.

Mag watched the two commanders on the side screens as it was playing, watching their faces. Indeed, they had both edited. To him, it looked like Mercinim should keep the vessel, as it was their vessel and had been commandeered, but both groups would have a talk with the captain, as he had commandeered a Mercinim vessel in order to attack a Non-Star League vessel.

Mag said so. Both General Romal and the League's Captain Randoy were upset with the ruling, and immediately began with complaints and arguments and such.

"Sorry, boys. That's the ruling. I'll have a Fortinbras transport take the captain to one of our planets, where you can both have a talk with him. The Mercinim fleet may tow the cruiser home." He nodded to Maria, the sensors/communications officer, and she switched the communications off, as the commanders started blubbering again. Mag disliked politics.

"Maria, could you arrange for that transport, as well as a small fleet? I think those two need deterrents."

"K." She started sending a message off.

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"Vampiric chickens are spiffy. Bak bak bak ARRR!"

[This message has been edited by Mag Steelglass (edited 05-20-2002).]