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    1. Doedie 10 yrs ago

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EUV Saratoga, Command Center

In the few minutes that had passed since the change of command, the crew of the bridge had remained mostly silent. Most were still in shock at the arrest of their commanding officer, a woman who had been in that position for twenty three years, but they had no other option than to carry on with their work. Legally speaking, the entire situation was a gray area. The Saratoga was a military vessel, subordinate only to the commanding officer of the flagship, and there was no name attached to that role in the orders. The Admiral may have been ousted by a coup, an illegal act, but the chain of command itself dictated that Baran had to take over in the event of his death.

Major Anne Lapierre, the ship's former intelligence officer and current executive officer, had been hard at work monitoring intership communications using the encryption keys so kindly provided to the Saratoga by the flagship. Her staff, mostly Naval Intelligence personnel, also included several advisers from some of the most prominent intelligence agencies in Europe: British SIS, German BND and MAD, French DGSE, Swedish MUST and Italian AISE had all sent representatives on the mission, primarily to assess the new colony's security against rogue raider elements and other external threats. They made up the majority of the civilian staff on-board, along with some retired soldiers that had been granted the chance to start a new life on the colony in exchange for their experience.

It was one of these retired men that had moved swiftly to fill the vacuum left by the Chief of the Boat's demise: former Capo Di 1 Classe, or Chief 1st Class, Lazare Ansaldi was a special case aboard the ship. He had been the Chief of the Boat for the first decade of its operation before retiring from active duty, and was a ruthless man known for how strict he was with the crew: unlike his later replacement, he had kept the crew on its toes all the time, maintained a strict physical exercise routine, even in his retirement, and his leave had been blamed by some of the hardliners aboard for the decline in discipline aboard the warship. He was also a close friend of Commander Daniau, which was in part why he had shown no hesitation in returning one of the Commander's many favors.

Dressed in a very official-looking ceremonial uniform, the new COB had already turned the bridge into a citadel of discipline, in coordination with the Deputy Master-at-Arms. Armed Marines loyal to the latter had been posted at the only entrance, doubling the security detail, and a checkpoint had been established at the next bulkhead to prevent unauthorized entry to the command section. So far, the Commander himself had been busy making phonecalls to the various departments: the chief medical officer had feigned ignorance of a change in the chain of command, despite the fact that the Master-at-Arms and the injured Marine had both been moved to the medical bay for treatment. Regardless, Daniau did not expect the CMO to be a problem: she was an idealist, and despite being a close friend of the former CO, she would do her job. The engineering department had begrudgingly given up after armed Marines waltzed in and arrested the chief engineer, although the requests were taking longer to fulfill than usual.

'Weps', the officer in charge of the ship's weapon arrays, and the only one with the necessary code to release the nuclear warhead safeties, was a hard case. He had agreed to not cause any trouble, insisting that he took orders from the bridge and the bridge only, but had refused to hand over the password for the small arms lockers. The Master-at-Arms was too injured to speak, and the Marine CO... Well, that was the most concerning fact: the Marines couldn't locate their own Commanding Officer, or the Air Group Commander. Neither one was answering any calls over the radio.

Daniau, after finishing his call to the brig to confirm that the Colonel was in custody along with her closest allies, finally found time to ask for a status report. "XO, how are we doing?"

"We need more men, sir. We have secured the hangar bays, but there's just not enough marines to guard the dozens of small arms lockers, the vehicle bay, the nuclear weapons storage and... Well, every department on this ship. Not now that we can't use most of them because they are untrustworthy or of unknown allegiance. Oh, and... The CMO just called, the Master-at-Arms is in critical condition. That shredder bullet made a mess of her stomach, kidneys, liver and a dozen of other stuff I can't even pronounce, and she's also going to need a dedicated neurosurgeon if she's ever gonna walk again. She needs a hospital."

Instantly, the Commander's eyes were on the RADAR tracking screen: the Savior had maneuvered itself away from the fleet, possibly in fear of being shot down or becoming a collateral casualty of in-ship fighting, and the encryption keys the flagship had sent had allowed the Saratoga to listen in on the conversation: the medical ship was refusing to open its hangars. And yet, it was the only one that could save the Master-at-Arms, who besides being a valuable asset and a very competent officer was also a very close friend of the Commander and most of his co-conspirators. "Right, have a Siren prepped for medical transport and get the Master-at-Arms stabilized for transit, I don't care how, just get the CMO to do anything she can. And get the damn Savior on the line, they better have a good explanation for this."

Within seconds, the Savior was hailed by the Saratoga as one of the petty officers spoke into her headset: "Savior Savior Savior, urgent, this is the European Union warship Saratoga. Requesting permission for emergency medevac, patient condition critical, please respond."
EUV Saratoga, Deck 8, Small Arms Locker

The Marine CO, Lieutenant Colonel Hansson, originally an officer of the Swedish Army and later of the 17th European Colonial Marine Battalion, was perhaps one of the youngest officers on board precisely because she had been very, very young when she joined the crew. Having enlisted at just sixteen years old, the legal limit in the European Union, her reason for joining the Swedish Army had been stated as 'got lost on the way to college', citing a classic 21st century movie. It was for that same reason, apparently, that at eighteen years old and fresh out of the Officer Academy she volunteered for the mission, going as far as to call in a favor and have her application considered despite the fact that she legally became an adult a few months after the ship's departure.

In the twenty-three years on-board, she had ascended through the hierarchy: the nature of the Marines' job meant that the commanders had to be exchanged as the aged, and it was that very protocol that gave her a shot at command. The declining number of Marine officers had been a problem after the first decade of the journey: the Saratoga did periodically accept recruits from the other colony ships, mostly those from industrial vessels looking to get a chance at a better life through the military, but it was no secret that that model was simply unsustainable. It was why many of the Marines had sided with Daniau in the conflict: they knew that given a few more years in space, the Saratoga's command structure would just fall apart.

Over the course of several minutes, the Lt. Colonel had assembled a small force of men and women loyal to her. Most of them were Marines, both active and retired, while the rest were pilots lead by the Air Group Commander (and ironically, Hansson's husband). The two had become married several years before, after the birth of their daughter, and could best be described as workaholics: the ship's counselor devoted most of his time to getting the two to achieve a proper work-life balance. Their daughter, and the several other children aboard whose parents had refused to retire to a vessel with proper childcare facilities, had to be ferried to the Ljus every day to attend school there at a considerable expense of fuel. That very fact was the reason the two parents could even consider the possibility of a counter-coup: their daughter was safe from a power-hungry Daniau, but if the Ljus became an inconvenience or a threat, the new CO would certainly shoot it down. And they couldn't accept that possibility.

"Jesus christ, this is a nightmare. Is Daniau insane?"

"I told the Colonel that he had to be replaced, but noooo, she was so blinded by his 'outstanding performance' to judge his character. And now we've got a damn dictator-wannabe in our hands."

The 'revolutionaries', less than twenty in total, had entered the small arms locker undetected thanks to a lack of Marines to guard the entire ship. Each small arms locker included enough weapons to organize a fighting force against hostile boarding parties, but most importantly, there were explosives there. Explosives that could be used to cripple the Saratoga, if it became necessary. Most of the counter-mutineers had put on combat armor and ballistic vests, and grabbed assault rifles and SMGs, but the Air Group Commander had worn only a light plate carrier. His task was a very different one.

"Alright, so here's the plan. We can't storm the bridge, because Daniau's entrenched in there, so we gotta do this the hard way. Team A will secure the engineering deck and attempt to shut off power to everything but life support. As long as Daniau can fire the weapons, thousands of lives are at risk. Team B, which will be lead by me, will assault the brig and get the Colonel, the chief engineer and anyone else that's been imprisoned. Team C will assume control over the auxiliary bridge. The chief of the computer systems department's with us, so once we are in place, he should be able to transfer control of the ship to us. Team D, the pilots lead by the CAG, will secure the hangar bays and if possible launch in fighters to cripple major ship systems should our attempt at getting control of the Saratoga fails, along with intercepting any missiles Daniau fires at civilian ships. Now, remember, these people are our shipmates. Shoot them if you need to, but try to limit casualties. That is all."
I was a bit busy, but I should be able to get the next post up soon!
"What do you mean turn back?"

With the Saratoga's Commanding Officer dealing with paperwork regarding the fleet's arrival in orbit over Delta Pavonis B in her quarters, Commander Michaël Daniau had been left in charge of the warship's operations center. The tall, fair-skinned Marine Nationale 'Capitaine de frégate' was more often than not present in the Combat Operations Center, mostly due to his aspirations to one day become the commanding officer; it was the very reason he had ever signed up for the mission, after all. Before the mission had begun, his career had reached a dead-end: there were too many officers with the rank 'Capitaine de vaisseau' in the French Navy, and he only had a few years to acquire a promotion before being forcibly retired. Instead, he had requested a transfer to the Saratoga in the hopes that, with the Oberst's death, he would take over the blank spot on the roster.

He had barely even read through the contents of the printed message when he voiced his confusion, bringing his hazel eyes to the bottom of the document to check its authentication. For some reason, the colonization of the planet was being aborted: it was a nightmare scenario, and even though the size of the force being left behind to 'protect and observe' had not been explicitly mentioned, the Commander was fairly certain that it did not include an entire cruiser.

Without any actual explanation to give, the ship's communications officer, a Major Petro Zelenko from the West Ukrainian Air Force, simply tried to assure the Commander that the message was real. "That's what the message said, sir. The authentication codes check out, we double-checked them." The Major stood several inches shorter than his direct superior, so he had to look up to address him. "Should we abort the recon UAV launch?"

"No." responded the commander, passing the paper back to his Ukrainian subordinate. "Lets keep this quiet for now, it could be a clerical error. Hail the flagship for me."

"Already tried sir, nobody's picking up."

That last statement seemed to have stirred the hornet's nest that was the Commander's brain, and his eyes drifted to get a quick glimpse of the Sergeant of the Guard and the security staff on the bridge. Something bad had happened, that was for sure. "Alright, listen to me carefully. Have the Master-at-Arms report to the bridge, and have your staff keep quiet about that message, we don't need to cause a panic. Keep trying to reach the flagship."

The Major hesitated, but then nodded discretely. "Aye aye." And with that, the two men exchanged a brief salute before Petro disappeared towards the communications room. In the meantime, the Commander moved back towards the port side of the compact bridge, where the stations for engineering, the optical telescopes and ground operations were, and motioned for the intelligence officer to get closer. The latter, recognizing the gesture, removed her headset and heads-up display goggles, unstrapped from her seat and turned to face the Commander.

"Sir. How can I help?"

"Direct all optical and infrared telescopes to the surface. Keep this to yourself, don't let your crew see the feeds, just send them to my station. If anyone asks, we are looking for a suitable site for the shuttles."

"Yes sir, I will keep it quiet, but... Mind telling me what's going on?"

"Something spooked the flagship and they ordered us to abandon landing preparations, I want to know what it is. I don't know what the Admiral is thinking, but I am not about to have twenty three years of my life go to waste. Can I count on you?"

A mutual understanding was shared between the two officers as their eyes met. She was known for being one of the Commander's most outspoken supporters in the command staff, partly because the two shared mutual goals, a common nationality and at times a common hatred for the Oberst's clique of idealists: the chief engineer, the Marine CO, the chief medical officer and the Chief of the Boat being chief amongst them. After several moments of silence, as if conspiring with their eyes, the Major spoke. "Absolutely, for anything sir."

"Thank you Major, that will be all."

Having taken care of that issue, Michael had to speak to one more person: the Master-at-Arms.
Several minutes later, the Colonel had finally finished her paperwork and was present in the bridge. She had yet to be informed of anything more than a vague reference to conflicting orders, and had been given the assurances of the communications officer that they were trying to get clarification from the flagship. Standing at just over five foot seven, she was not exactly a short woman by any means, and had held up remarkably well with both age and the harsh conditions of space. Despite the sudden reluctance displayed by some of the bridge's officers to give her the information she needed, and no way to contact the flagship, she had reserved herself to watching the video feed of the Daughter of Gaia on her station. The bridge, like almost all sections of the ship, had no actual windows: it was buried deep beneath the armor so a decapitating strike against the ship's officers would be impossible, and most decision-making relied on a mix of RADAR, LIDAR, LADAR, infrared, x-ray and magnetometric sensor data.

It was only when the transmission from the Gaia begun that the Colonel became suspicious: that was not the voice of the Admiral, and he was usually the only one to address the fleet. Why would Baran, of all people, be allowed to make a public announcement?

"I have assumed command of the Daughter of Gaia and the fleet."

It was only then that she realized what was going on: it was a coup. The video embedded in the broadcast gave her the reason for the coup, and the voice doing the broadcast confirmed who had staged it. The bridge crew, most of whom were unaware of the events taking place on both the Gaia and the Saratoga, froze as the details about the coup were revealed to them in the most public form of exposure: it was only when the transmission ended that the Colonel begun to consider the situation. After several moments of deliberation, and a bombardment of questions by several junior officers, she decided to act.

"Return to your stations, people. This is an internal security matter that will be dealt with shortly. Zelenko, get the Marine CO on the phone, have her scramble the Marine Rapid Reaction Team with a fighter escort. We need to quell this coup before anyone starts getting any idea-"

"You will do no such thing, Major."

The entire bridge froze again as the Colonel turned her entire body to get a look at the source of the familiar voice: the executive officer. He was flanked by two members of the Naval Security Service, clad in combat armor and equipped with assault rifles, with the Master-at-Arms waiting a few meters behind them.

"Commander, what do you think you are doing?"

"I am stopping you from making a grave mistake, Colonel."

Ignoring the warning from the Commander, Erika turned her head to address Zelenko again. "Major, get Lieutenant Colonel Hansson on the line, now."

"Colonel, I am warning you, if you continue upon this course and insist on attempting an unlawful boarding operation on the Daughter of Gaia, I will be left with no choice-"

"MAJOR! ARE YOU DEAF?"

"Colonel, this is getting nowhere. I am left with no choice but to relieve you of command of this vessel under naval regulat-"

"Commander, you are relieved. Sergeant of the Guard, escort Daniau to his quarters and get me Lieutenant Colonel-"

"Sergeant of the Guard, the Colonel has been properly relieved, please escort her out of the bridge."

"SERGEANT OF THE GUARD! I gave you a direct order! Commander Daniau is under arrest on charges of mutiny!"

"SERGEANT OF THE GUARD, YOU WILL TAKE THE COLONEL INTO CUSTODY ON CHARGES OF HIGH TREASON, AND YOU WILL DO SO NOW!"

The back-and-forth conversation had escalated into a yelling contest within a few seconds, leaving a confused Sergeant of the Guard to stare at the two officers in disbelief. It was only when he felt a hand on his shoulder, that of the Master-at-Arms, that he realized that he actually had to make a choice. Reaching down to his holster, he unclipped the safety cover and reached for the rail pistol within. Both the Colonel and the Commander stopped yelling and glared at him expectantly as he unholstered the firearm, holding it by the side of his hip.

Several tense moments later, the Sergeant of the Guard's gaze was finally locked on the Colonel. "Colonel. Your sidearm please."

Erika glared angrily at her former executive officer: she recognized defeat, but seemed unwilling to accept it. "Commander, if you are doing what I think you are doing, you should just shoot yourself now. Do you think that the five thousand people on this ship will willingly become accomplices to genocide?"

"I think they will do as ordered. This is a military vessel. Sergeant, take her away. Major Lapierre, you are my new XO." he finally responded, and the Colonel was defiantly forced out of the bridge by the Sergeant of the Guard and two of the Marines; a coup had just begun aboard the Saratoga, and while there was a lot to do, the mutineers at least had control of the bridge. "If anyone disagrees with what I have done, feel free to relieve yourselves now." In response, several junior and petty officers stood up from their seats, walking out of the bridge voluntarily; these included the Chief of the Boat, the senior enlisted adviser and close friend of the Colonel. Before he could leave, however, he was stopped by the Master-at-Arms.

"Not you, COB." she exclaimed, making a hand gesture for a Marine to come closer. "You are under house arrest. Corporal Dietrich will escort you to your quarters. Please hand over your sidearm."

The Chief was not a particularly athletic man: in fact, he was overweight. Even though he had been a mere Petty Officer 1st Class when the Saratoga had left Earth, the more than twenty years of not seeing combat action and slowly abandoning his attempts at maintaining physical fitness had resulted in numerous health problems and left him unable to perform the simplest of physical tasks without struggling. He had even been prescribed pills to control his pressure by the chief medical officer. But if there was one thing he had not lost, it was his fiery spirit: he reached down to grab his sidearm, as if preparing to hand it over, but as he lifted it out he whispered a single phrase.

"Fuck you, Major."

Before anyone could react, the COB raised his pistol and fired a shot straight into the Master-at-Arms' chest, and then another at her vulnerable stomach before the Marine made a motion to disarm him: he too found himself with a bullet embedded into his upper right arm. Railguns used no explosive force to propel their projectiles, but the loud 'bang' sound of the projectile breaching the sound barrier was enough to create havoc in the bridge: the Master-at-Arms collapsed to the ground as the Marine struggled to deal with the intense pain, and the COB turned his aim to the Commander.

"Daniau, you are under arrest! Drop your gun to the floor, now!"

Instead of the move of compliance (or defiance) the Chief expected, however, another gunshot ringed out in the bridge; the Chief's body collapsed to the floor, lifeless, with blood flowing out of a massive wound on the side of its head. All eyes on the bridge turned to get a look at the shooter, the former intelligence officer who had been just promoted to XO, who slowly lowered her sidearm by her side without speaking.

Left to deal with the aftermath of the situation as the medics flowed into the bridge to take care of the Master-at-Arms and the shot Marine, Michael instead calmly turned around, picked up the handset from the commanding officer's station and made a gesture at Zelenko to connect him to the flagship.

"This is Commander Damiau, commanding officer of the Saratoga. I have been forced to relieve Colonel Wechsler and assume command of this vessel; we are standing by for further instructions, Admiral Baran."
"What do you mean the COB's been shot?! Damiau has done what? Right, call the CAG too, see if he's with us. I'll gather a few Marines I can trust and meet you at the small arms locker. Hansson over and out."
Ship Name: EUV Saratoga (formerly USS Saratoga)


Description:
The George Washington class was originally envisioned as a heavy attack cruiser for the United States Aerospace Command, a great warship that could rival the carriers of the 21st century in its ability to project force overseas. With a length of two kilometers at its furthest point and a width of two hundred meters, the four prototypes of the class (USS George Washington, USS Saratoga, USS California and USS Pearl Harbor) housed a powerful endo/exo atmospheric hybrid fighter wing, had space and accommodations for two full Marine battalions and could theoretically withstand prolonged engagements with ships of the Russian Federation, People's Loyal Navy and pirate vessels.

But most importantly, they were to become test-beds for experimental faster-than-light technology. The Einstein-Rosen Spacetime Bridge Drive was the first example of a faster-than-light engine to not only pass the decades of theoretical scrutiny with flying colors, but also be considered practically feasible. A prototype engine of this kind was installed in the George Washington, and during a test run, an attempt was made to activate it. The vessel moved to a safe distance from Earth's gravity well, spooled up the extensive computers that managed the drive, and activated it. Instead of emerging in orbit of Mars, however, the Washington was instead destroyed with all hands. With five thousand dead, the FTL drive project was scrapped, and the remaining ships fell into obscurity.

After decades of budget cuts and a dwindling need for such a weapon of mass destruction, the three unfinished prototypes were sold off to the European Union for scrap, and re-purposed as escort vessels for colony ships in order to protect them from pirate attacks and calm the public outrage over the devastating loss of the 'Charles de Gaulle', a colony vessel that was plundered by a raider group and then scuttled only two years prior. The Saratoga was overhauled, replacing two of its four fighter bays with ammunition and fuel storage facilities for extended escort missions.

The Saratoga's primary purpose is, above all, to be a warship, and a good warship at that. Despite the numerous cuts to its R&D budget, the ship houses several innovative technological advancements to ensure dominance in the battlefield. Its primary weapon system is the Westinghouse Mark 17 Rail Artillery System, a spinal alignment weapon that runs the entire length of the ship: the powerful electromagnetic acceleration system can fire nuclear-tipped artillery shells at a meaningful fraction of the speed of light, rendering any attempts at interception futile, and can be used both to get an edge over slow-moving warships and for planetary bombardment. The weapon, however, is one of many systems that are too impractical for daily use due to the fact that in space, everything keeps moving. Instead, the ship's most used armaments are the 72 General Electrics Magnetic Acceleration Cannons, which form an array of variable-range, multi-purpose attack weapons that can be used to both create an impenetrable flak barrier around the ship and attack other targets with a variety of shells.

Complementing these projectile weapons, the European refit of the Saratoga replaced its old torpedo launch tubes with twelve variable-warhead Vertical Launch Systems, most often used to launch anti-ship missiles. A little known fact is that these tubes are also capable of firing nuclear weapons, both for ground-strike and ship-to-ship purposes, and the Saratoga was provided with a very limited stock of both types. Rumors circulating amongst the crew claim that the ship's nuclear missile stocks are as low as six ship-to-ship warheads and one ground-strike MIRV or as high as twenty ship-to-ships and ten MIRVs. Some claim that, because the warheads were expected to see no use, some of them were dismantled to acquire parts to maintain the more vital defensive missile systems.

To defend itself, the Saratoga is equipped with several meters' thick composite armor, varying in thickness depending on the location, sandwiching a system of electric-reactive plating. The two systems can shrug off small caliber fire and are combined with a smart threat prediction system to reinforce the defenses in critical sections, such as the engineering compartment or the fuel tanks. Because a nuclear strike can decimate the ship, a series of CIWS projectile weapons, point defense lasers and a missile interception system can destroy warheads or bombers that venture too close to the hull. A thirty micron thick ablative coating can allow the hull to sustain prolonged laser fire. Finally, the Saratoga can deploy a full fighter wing (although half the size, by American standards) to both defend itself from enemy fighters, or conduct attack, recon and close air support missions in both space and on the ground.

The ship's most fatal flaw, however, is its lack of independence. Although its fuel and ammunition reserves are enough to last several engagements, the ship's water recycling system is not 100% effective, the food in storage can only last for so long, and the military-grade medications in its undersized medical bay are present in minute quantities. As such, the Saratoga is forced to be part of a larger fleet formation that can cover its needs, as well as provide it with the workforce necessary for repair and maintenance. The vessel is also very uncomfortable to live in: whereas most ships in the colonization fleet can comfortably house over ten thousand people, the five thousand soldiers, pilots and engineers of the Saratoga are forced to survive in cramped conditions, utilizing hot-bunking and sharing bathrooms and showers. The tiny corridors of the ship are a perfect breeding ground for a disease outbreak waiting to happen.

Population: 4,879
Description: Recruited on a volunteer-only basis, special care was taken to ensure that the people onboard the ship did not have any significant attachments back home: married EU citizens were excluded except for rare cases where both themselves and their spouses were active duty military and volunteered for the mission, and ideally, people who had no parents, siblings or other family members were picked. The overwhelming majority of the crew are active duty military (only 67 civilians are present aboard, including several intelligence analysts and some scientists), but a very tiny number of them are infantrymen. The Saratoga's ground combat element is a single Battalion numbering 418 European Union Naval Marines and a Special Forces platoon. Their equipment includes all-environment combat gear, three main battle tanks and several support vehicles.

Despite the strict fraternization regulations, the ship's commanding officers have let relationships between crew members go on without punishment for the sake of morale.

Captain Name: Oberst / Colonel Erika Wechsler
Description: Originally a fighter pilot for the Luftwaffe, Colonel Wechsler made a career out of exo-atmospheric combat: she wrote the book on modern fighter warfare and pioneered the overhaul of the European Union's Air Force, which included modernizing the aging fleet of space-age Harriers and Mirages and replacing them with the Eurofighter Tornado. Despite her numerous achievements and decorations, her promotion to flag officer was never approved due to her eccentric character and rivalries with several of the Union's command staff. The short redhaired officer spent most of her life in Low Earth Orbit, and at age 34 accepted the assignment to the Saratoga's escort mission as a means of escaping the bureaucrats.

Other Notable Individuals:
Capitaine de frégate / Commander Michaël Daniau
A hardliner careerist officer in the Marine Nationale, the French-born Commander spent most of his life sucking up to flag officers and scheming behind a computer instead of fighting wars. He represents a more pragmatic, individualist approach to the Colonel's idealism, and despite serving twenty years as her Executive Officer, he maintains a love-hate relationship with her: they hardly ever agree on a course of action, and when they do, it's an indication that something has gone terribly wrong.
Överstelöjtnant / Lieutenant Colonel Laila Hansson
The only officer onboard with the same paygrade as the Executive Officer, Lt. Colonel Hansonn serves as the commanding officer of the 17th European Colonial Marine Battalion, and shares the responsibilities of ship-borne security with the Master-at-Arms. She can best be described as a hot-headed timebomb waiting to go off, especially after a recent pregnancy that demonstrated just how obsessed she is with her job, and has on more than one occasion demonstrated a complete inability to cooperate with the XO.

Notes: I tried my best to keep the ship's military prowess reasonable enough to be used as an escort, and to balance it out with a complete reliance on civilian vessels.
I don't know if I can devote the time to a 'reboot' until my exams are over in eight weeks, but after that, I'd be up for starting a new and improved version!
Looks like it came stillborn, unfortunately...


"Sir. Sir?"

For once in his admitedly short career, President William Shatner had a single moment of peace to himself. It was just too bad that said moment of peace took place within the ruins of a destroyed city, amidst the crackling of radiation counters and the distant sound of an approaching storm. Funny; a few years back, and his only visits to Earth were to complain to the United Nations, to threaten sanctions or to attend some high profile trial of international criminals. He had connected the industrialized world with a sense of discomfort, treating it as just some random planet he had to go to on occasion. Most people of his generation, the pure Jovians, they had never even stepped foot on the blue planet. For them, the governments of Earth were mostly competitors and buyers, source of trouble or income.

He had never imagined he would be standing on the planet like that, overcome by a feeling of despair.

Earth was gone, its blue oceans irreparably contaminated by the radioactive fallout, its forests destroyed by the toxicity of the air. Most survivors had already been evacuated to the fleet in orbit, and he wasn't even sure why he was down on the planet. He was supposed to attend a meeting aboard the International Space Station within the next hour, but for some reason had chosen to accompany one of the last environmental evaluation teams down to the planet. And there he was, standing near a destroyed Statue of Liberty, only its base remaining after the nuclear attack that had decimated New York City. The outline of the wreckage of a Battleship, of the spacefaring kind, was visible on the far edge of the visor of his hazmat exoskeleton; the radiation levels were still way above the safe maximum for human life. That was the HMS Queen Mother, one of the first victims of the Battle of Earth. It had been disabled while attempting to lower its orbit altitude, and instead ended up crashing onto Earth.

"Sir?" repeated the insistent voice behind him, and he let out a deep sigh.

"Yes, Major, what is it?"

"The pilot says there's a storm on the way, he's unsure if we'll be able to reach orbit with all the EM interference. He wants us to get going immediately."

Nodding behind the heavy exoskeleton, the President turned around and begun the slow, torturing walk towards the spacecraft. He had a long day ahead of him.
CNS Europa, Galilei-class Supercarrier
Command Ship, Jovian Fleet


Damn that coffee was cold.

For the past several hours, Admiral Elizabeth Maxson had argued with the rest of the fleet's commanders in the Operations Center, the gigantic chamber filled with maps, star charts, communications equipment, computers and annoying analysts. If the Combat Information Center was the nerve center of the carrier and the Europa Artificial Intelligence its brain, then the Operations Center was certainly its bowel, because all of the annoying shit ended up there. A bunch of old, stuck-up Admirals, Colonels, Commanders and Captains too bitter to admit that someone twenty years younger than them had been promoted to Chief of Staff of the Navy had been mixed in with National Intelligence Agency goons and Colonial Security agents, along with an (un)healthy dose of politicians. There was even a damn Senator in the room trying to argue about seemingly everything.

Many had blamed the short, muscular woman of being a power grabber, abusing her powers and exploiting the opportunity to assume command of the military fleet and put the civilian government on the path to a military dictatorship, but they couldn't be farther from the truth. For if Elizabeth Maxwell had a choice, she would have resigned immediately; it wasn't that she hadn't tried, anyway. The President had blatantly ripped the resignation form in two with his bare hands, blaming the Admiral of being selfish and a coward for trying to surrender the responsibility to someone else. The woman had never been meant to be a flag officer: she had spent most of her life as a Marine Aviator, flying F-33 interceptors, and had only been forced to take a desk job after a plane crash cost her an eye. She got it replaced with a cloned copy, but the regulations were clear: she couldn't fly fighters any more. So instead, she got restricted to flying a desk. After the war started, she was stationed aboard the Europa, and then-Commander Maxwell had been promoted to Rear Admiral after the death of the Europa's commanding officer.

On some days, she wanted to hit her past self in the head for sending out that message of hope. The fleet had lost a major battle over Ganymede, and with it its command structure, and she had almost impulsively assumed command; she hadn't been the highest ranking officer left, but she certainly had been the only one with the backbone to take some responsibility.

This was one of those days.

"I am telling you, the Russians are WAY too close for comfort. The damn Gorbachev has matched our orbit almost precisely, they are just two thousand kilometers away from this ship! The Saint Petersburg has been burning with its RCS thrusters for hours trying to match our orbits, thinking we wouldn't notice!"

"The Russians aren't the problem, they can bark all they want, but they don't have nowhere near enough firepower to pose a threat. It's the Mercurites I am worried about. Their dreadnought and the Callisto got in a stand off last week, and we all know that the Cally isn't nowhere near battle worthy. Sooner or later, we'll need to deal with this issue, and the solution might as well be a pre-emptive strike!"

"You think that's the only problem? Some of the civilian crews are getting restless, CPS had to quell a riot aboard one of the tanker ships yesterday. The food and water rationing isn't very popular with them!"


"OH JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

The sudden outburst silenced everyone in the room, even the analysts bantering in the far corner about unrelated topics, and forced their attention back on the Admiral. The red-haired officer wasn't exactly known for her tact or for her social skills, but they were used to that by then; they just hadn't heard her scream that loudly before. She pushed the cold coffee cup aside, pointing aggressively at the collection of people surrounding the main operations planning table. "Look at you! We barely survived one war and you are already looking to start another! You are acting like children!" she exclaimed, bringing her attention to the table. "You sit there talking about pre-emptive strikes, but you forget that we might as well be down to throwing rocks for ammo! We've got a few dozen nukes, and half of them need repairs before they can be used, and we've barely got enough aviation fuel to keep the CAPs running. Half of our ships are in need of repairs, we've got a supercarrier that wasn't even finished, one of our destroyers might have to be scuttled because it will fall apart if someone sneezes on it! Not to mention the fact that one of our dreadnoughts was a museum just a few weeks ago! And you want to go to war with the Russians or the Mercurites? Lets just make it easy and shoot ourselves while we're at it, end it with less suffering!"

Suddenly, the room fell in an uncomfortable silence; nobody spoke for at least a few minutes, just staring at the Admiral, or to each other, or to the suddenly very interesting metal floor. Jovian ships were built much like the submarines of the 20th century: cramped, ugly and metallic, but the officers and politicians in the room were so lost in their own world and the realization of just how bad the situation was that for once they didn't complain about the fact that there was barely enough room for them to fit in the chamber.

The silence was broken by the crackle of the intercom, sparing the need for someone to revitalize the conversation: "Ops, Combat. Marine One has just taken off from Earth, they are going to head straight to the ISS after an in-flight refueling. Major Reese is on his way with a fighter squadron to provide escort."

That was the last the people in the room saw of the Admiral for the moment, as she made a full u-turn and calmly left Operations.
Nation Name: United Jovian Colonies (UJC/JV)

Population: 8,917,198,
Predecessor/Origin: After the ice moon of Jupiter, Europa, was colonized in 2037, it quickly became one of the fastest growing settlements in human domain for one simple fact: its access to water. With an entire ocean and a nuclear reactor available, not only was the colony capable of producing food through hydroponics, but it could cheaply synthesize rocket fuel in the form of liquid oxygen and hydrogen. Where others had to literally freeze the fuel, 'Europans' could use the freezing ice. Within five years, its population had grown to five thousand. The rest of the Jovian moons followed suit as the nations of Earth tried to claim a piece of the pie, but Europa continued to dominate the region under the control of the European Union. In 2071, however, the eight million humans in the Jovian system (most of them from a generation born and raised on the moons) peacefully voted to 'evict' the foreign governments and form their own. Europa, one of the few exporters of Helium 3 in the area, became the capital of the new United Jovian Colonies. The Jovians raised the prices on Helium 3 massively, holding the rest of the solar system hostage under threat of a fuel shortage. The United Nations 'gifted' them with several destroyers to defend their planets, and the fuel crisis was miraculously resolved.

By 2118, the twenty million people of the Jovian moons, the population bolstered by people seeking to escape the oppressive government of Mars, had became a superpower in Sol. Their military fleet, while not exactly massive, had enough supercarriers and dreadnoughts to keep their fuel-hungry neighbours at bay. That all changed during the war: Jupiter's position in the solar system lengthened the response time of the UN's Rapid Reaction Force, and the Jovians lost most of their fleet in the opening attack. More than half of the population was killed when Europa City, Callisto Prime and Io City were destroyed with three fifty megaton nuclear warheads.

For two years, the Jovian fleets, a shamble of their former glory, continued to protect the smaller cities on Jupiter's moons and took significant losses while doing so. The CNS Galileo Galilei, first of the Galilei class of Supercarriers and flagship of the fleet, was destroyed protecting Ganymede from an alien assault group. With it it took most of the fleet's high command, including Fleet Admiral Peter Connor, Chief of Staff of the Navy, and President Richard Gaulle. The fleet fell into disarray as the bulk of its command structure was annihilated.

Admiral Elizabeth Maxson assumed command of the fleet with a simple broadcast transmitted over all local channels: Admiral Maxson, Commanding Officer, Supercarrier CNS Europa, assuming command of fleet. All surviving civilian and military units report on encrypted channels. Have hope. A few hours later, then-Attorney General William Shatner was sworn in as President in a government bunker deep beneath Ganymede. By the end of the day, the Jovian Colonies had a new command hierarchy amassed in two locations: the CNS Europa and Area 8, the bunker on Ganymede.Then Rear Admiral Maxson was promoted to full Admiral by the President in a brief video conference ceremony.

The change in tactics was almost instant: instead of assuming the stationary defense doctrine Fleet Command had stuck to throughout the war, Admiral Maxson split the fleet into two groups. The first was to buy the people of the Jovian system time: the surviving 21st CSG along with elements from the 11th, 13th and 24th CSGs attacked an inbound alien strike group several hours away from Jupiter, and while they took significant casualties, they bought the second group several days to complete their task. The other half of the fleet focused its efforts on evacuation and rescue: crews ran 24/7 shifts as the destroyers scoured the local area for any stranded civilian ships or vessels in hiding while the carriers ferried refugees aboard every ship with their shuttles and transports. Anything that could fly was scrambled, including ships a dozen years past their 'expiry date'. By the end of the week, the bulk of the surviving Jovian population had been evacuated. The first batch of survivors fled to Earth under the protection of the last active dreadnought and its escorts.

The battle of Earth was just starting when the refugees arrived, and the commanding officer of the dreadnought strike group cleverly hid the refugee fleet behind the dark side of the moon for the duration of the engagement as the Jovian warships joined the rest of the United Nations fleet. Several days later, after the battle ended, most of the fleet joined the dreadnought in Earth orbit after having left a single destroyer taskforce behind to search for more survivors or assets that could be salvaged.

Government: Federal Presidential Constitutional Republic. The UJC's system of government was based on that of the United States and the European Union. It is headed by the President, who is also the commander in chief of the military, even though the decisions are always left to the Department of Defense and Fleet Command. Legislation is provided by the Congress, while the Supreme Court handles judicial affairs.

Each of the 67 Jovian moons and the eight Semi-Autonomous Territories are represented by four Senators each in the Colonial Senate. A President has to win both the popular and electoral vote to be sworn in. One little-known fact is that the Joint Chiefs of Staff have the right to veto any non-supermajority Senate vote if they feel it compromises national security; in the short history of the Colonies, that right had been exercised exactly twice. Since the destruction of the Galileo Galilei, however, Admiral Maxson has vetoed over ninety separate votes by the Colonial Senate, some of them involving seemingly unrelated matters such as food distribution.

Ethnic Groups: 81% Jovian, 17% Martian, 2% Other.

Civilian Fleet: The Jovian fleet is disproportionally focused on fuel tankers and cargo transports; almost 800 large ships make up the bulk of the fleet formation, while several smaller shuttle sized craft carry single families or serve in a cargo transport function. Almost 60% of the larger ships are civilian luxury liners, passenger transports or cargo ships modified to carry people; the fleet continuously deals with overpopulation problems. The rest of the ships are a mix of mining ships, repair ships, fuel tankers and refinery platforms.

Military Fleet:
CNS Europa: Galilei-class Supercarrier. Fleet flagship. 18th Carrier Strike Group. Minor damage to starboard hangar deck.
CNS Io: Galilei-class Supercarrier. N/A. Still under construction during the war, was hastily patched up and made combat ready. Mostly.
CNS Ganymede: Galilei-class Supercarrier. 21st Carrier Strike Group. Severe damage to main battery.

CNS Adrastea: Pioneer-class Dreadnought, 18th Carrier Strike Group. Mostly in good condition, damaged port nuclear missile bay doors.
CNS Callisto: Callisto-class Dreadnought, Inactive. Salvaged from the Europa low orbit scrapyard it had been deposited in for disassembly. Missing several weapons systems, but the main battery is intact.

CNS Valiant: Defiant-class Battleship, 18th Carrier Strike Group. Critical damage to starboard engine pod, reduced maneuvering capability.
CNS Valkyrie: Defiant-class Battleship, 18th Carrier Strike Group. Damaged during the Battle of Ganymede, taking some damage to her main battery.
CNS Achilles: Defiant-class Battleship, 18th Carrier Strike Group. One of the few undamaged ships in the fleet.
CNS Carl Sagan: Defiant-class Battleship, 21st Carrier Strike Group. Was undergoing upgrades to her jump drive when the attack on Ganymede happened.

CNS Olympus: Olympus-class Fleet Carrier. 21st Carrier Strike Group. Severe damage to port fighter launch tubes.
CNS Everest: Olympus-class Fleet Carrier. 21st Carrier Strike Group. Main battery and nuclear missile control offline.
CNS Indomitable: Indomitable-class Fleet Carrier. 21st Carrier Strike Group. Unfinished at the time of the attack, missing several systems.
CNS Steven Hawking: Olympus-class Fleet Carrier. 18th Carrier Strike Group. Mostly undamaged.

+7 Destroyers.

Military Details: During the war, all the reserves were called upon to defend the Jovian colonies. This leaves the Colonies with an almost disproportionate number of active troops compared to reservists: 320,000 active servicemen and 10,000 reserve. A vast majority of the Jovian Civil Protection Service and the Jovian Special Weapons and Tactics Service were also conscripted into the Marines to fill in gaps in the ranks of the military police. The Jovian military has held out better than most, having several surviving ships left and a large number of tanks, power armor suits and aircraft, but almost 70% of all servicemen are either in the Navy and Air Force. Jovians rely on mechanized solutions such as armored vehicles and powered exoskeletons to make up for their lack in numbers. In addition, they have a strong nuclear arsennal, maintaining at least 37 ground-strike MIRV nuclear weapons of various yields and approximately 68 nuclear ship-to-ship warheads in the single megaton range.

Noteworthy Assets:

CNS Europa: Before the war, the first pair of Galilei-class Supercarriers, the Galileo Galilei and the Nicolaus Copernicus, had just finished field trials and were on the fast track to being commissioned. These fifth-generation Supercarriers were each built to be a portable command facility, airport, battleship and support ship at once. Spanning 1,128 meters in length and with a mass two times that of the best Earth-built warships, they carried enough nuclear weapons with them to scorch the surface of a planet and enough ammunition to support their own personal war. A total of eight were built, tasked with replacing the older Einstein-class Supercarriers. During the war, all but two of these warships were lost. Military analysts concluded that the ships themselves were not the problem: it was numbers. The aliens often came with a massive size advantage, and while a Galilei-class and its strike group could take on the equivalent alien formations without much trouble, they often fought outnumbered 5:1. One by one the CSGs fell, leaving only two: the Europa and the Ganymede, with the Io still being constructed. With the Ganymede's main battery damaged, it has been kept behind the front lines until the completion of repairs. Thus, the Europa remains the most powerful ship in the fleet, and the most important one at the same time: with the government and the fleet's command using it as their headquarters, it remains at the center of the Jovian fleet formation.

Helium-3: Europa was a primary exporter of Helium isotopes before the war, but it had also accumulated a sizeable emergency deposit for times of either economical or material need. When the war struck, the fleet violently defended the 'Fuel Bank' on Europa, sacrificing most of the 16th carrier strike group so that the fuel could be 'evacuated' by the dozens of tankers.

Supplies (approx.):
Water: 2 Weeks
Food: 3 Weeks
Air: 2 Months

Fuel: 109 Lightyears (Jump Capacity)
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Looking good so far!
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