UNCHARTED SPACE - UNKNOWN PLANET “AURORA”
DESTINY ASCENDANT BRIDGE
More signatures pinged onto the sector map Muriel had on the command table. She scowled as the ship’s prospects of success in a firefight dropped considerably. Winning was no longer an option. The only move they had left should the sector erupt in free-for-all warfare was to hit and run. “Tactical, load a full volley of sleeper torpedoes and stand by to eject.”
Sleeper torps included a secondary low-band comm system, secondary power systems, and cold gas maneuvering jets. They could be launched without igniting their engines and lurk for hours in space before being called upon by a friendly ship to strike a target. Sleeper torps were one of the greatest tools in the black ops arsenal for making a single ship feel like five. Clearly her new first officer was not up to snuff on black ops assets. “Sleeper torpedoes?”
She explained the basics of what they were to him quickly while the autoloader mechanisms seated the weapons into their tubes situated just behind the main hangar. “We set them up, reposition ourselves, and then use them to pinch an enemy between us and a thousand megatons worth of fusion warheads,” she remarked, “They have to guess which angle we’re at and to defend. If timed right, both choices are wrong.”
The communications systems picked up an increasing amount of frantic chatter coming from the planet below. SICI handily brute forced her way through decrypting it, but the actual content was of an unknown language, or languages. The comms officer engaged XenoScript 3.0 to start running analytics & decipher it. The commander was busily worrying about the multitude of small signatures descending onto the same point at ground.
The ship slowly cruised through space, its emissions running minimal to avoid detection. One by one, all six massive torpedoes were launched out of their dorsal-facing tubes, faceless reapers in the blackness waiting to receive a target. “Lieutenant you may like our fancy toys but I don’t think you’ll like what comes next.”
“Oh? And why is that Commander?”
“Because those are plan B. Plan A is much more stupidly dangerous.”
“Absolutely fantastic ...” he answered sarcastically.
“Comms, set up a wide frequency unencrypted broadcast, local radio bands. Tactical, go ahead and take us out of stealth,” she interrupted the tactical officers’ synchronous protests against transmitting outside of directed laser comms, “raise shields and make sure all our weapons systems are loaded.”
“What exactly are you doing, Commander?”
In fairness, she was going outside of the usual black ops playbook. Even if he was familiar with that, this move might still be alien to him. “We have no idea exactly what we’re dealing with here and the number of players at this table is growing. We’re not learning anything by sitting here doing nothing, so I’m making a gambit.”
She turned back to the holotable, linked her headset to the open channel, and unmuted the broadcast. “This is Commander Muriel Dar’Tuura of the cruiser Destiny Ascendant. I offer my hangar bay as diplomatic neutral ground. Those who wish may send an envoy post haste. Please limit security escort to four personnel.”
The lieutenant looked shocked. His experience being with a standard navy fleet, impromptu diplomacy was so far out of line that this decision would have earned a court martial. Here when the odds were beginning to stack against them, it was Muriel’s best move to learn just what in Aria’s name she was dealing with. She motioned to the comms station to kill the channel. It had served its purpose. Now she engaged ship intercom to contact her pilots & marines. “Both strike groups, gear for security and ship defense. We are preparing to receive envoy teams in the main hangar. Look sharp, stay alert, carry rifles,” she turned back to the command table, “SICI engage security status 3A. The briefing rooms on the fore side of the flight deck is as far as any visitors are allowed to get. Sound general quarters.”
The ship intercom blared to life everywhere with a quick burst of five high-pitched beeps. “All crew, general quarters! All crew, general quarters!” SICI’s artificial voice blared over the speakers. The second-shift crew who were mostly asleep on downtime, suddenly were summoned awake to double-staff the ship and prep CIC, the armored command bunker farther back within the ship. The commander stepped off the bridge - leaving her new officer in charge - so she could prep to meet whatever she’d just invited aboard. Meanwhile near 50 trained soldiers were prepping their gear to enforce security in the hangar lest their visitors try to kill them, each other, or whatever else. Gratuitous security for an unprecedented move was never a bad idea.
DESTINY ASCENDANT BRIDGE
More signatures pinged onto the sector map Muriel had on the command table. She scowled as the ship’s prospects of success in a firefight dropped considerably. Winning was no longer an option. The only move they had left should the sector erupt in free-for-all warfare was to hit and run. “Tactical, load a full volley of sleeper torpedoes and stand by to eject.”
Sleeper torps included a secondary low-band comm system, secondary power systems, and cold gas maneuvering jets. They could be launched without igniting their engines and lurk for hours in space before being called upon by a friendly ship to strike a target. Sleeper torps were one of the greatest tools in the black ops arsenal for making a single ship feel like five. Clearly her new first officer was not up to snuff on black ops assets. “Sleeper torpedoes?”
She explained the basics of what they were to him quickly while the autoloader mechanisms seated the weapons into their tubes situated just behind the main hangar. “We set them up, reposition ourselves, and then use them to pinch an enemy between us and a thousand megatons worth of fusion warheads,” she remarked, “They have to guess which angle we’re at and to defend. If timed right, both choices are wrong.”
The communications systems picked up an increasing amount of frantic chatter coming from the planet below. SICI handily brute forced her way through decrypting it, but the actual content was of an unknown language, or languages. The comms officer engaged XenoScript 3.0 to start running analytics & decipher it. The commander was busily worrying about the multitude of small signatures descending onto the same point at ground.
The ship slowly cruised through space, its emissions running minimal to avoid detection. One by one, all six massive torpedoes were launched out of their dorsal-facing tubes, faceless reapers in the blackness waiting to receive a target. “Lieutenant you may like our fancy toys but I don’t think you’ll like what comes next.”
“Oh? And why is that Commander?”
“Because those are plan B. Plan A is much more stupidly dangerous.”
“Absolutely fantastic ...” he answered sarcastically.
“Comms, set up a wide frequency unencrypted broadcast, local radio bands. Tactical, go ahead and take us out of stealth,” she interrupted the tactical officers’ synchronous protests against transmitting outside of directed laser comms, “raise shields and make sure all our weapons systems are loaded.”
“What exactly are you doing, Commander?”
In fairness, she was going outside of the usual black ops playbook. Even if he was familiar with that, this move might still be alien to him. “We have no idea exactly what we’re dealing with here and the number of players at this table is growing. We’re not learning anything by sitting here doing nothing, so I’m making a gambit.”
She turned back to the holotable, linked her headset to the open channel, and unmuted the broadcast. “This is Commander Muriel Dar’Tuura of the cruiser Destiny Ascendant. I offer my hangar bay as diplomatic neutral ground. Those who wish may send an envoy post haste. Please limit security escort to four personnel.”
The lieutenant looked shocked. His experience being with a standard navy fleet, impromptu diplomacy was so far out of line that this decision would have earned a court martial. Here when the odds were beginning to stack against them, it was Muriel’s best move to learn just what in Aria’s name she was dealing with. She motioned to the comms station to kill the channel. It had served its purpose. Now she engaged ship intercom to contact her pilots & marines. “Both strike groups, gear for security and ship defense. We are preparing to receive envoy teams in the main hangar. Look sharp, stay alert, carry rifles,” she turned back to the command table, “SICI engage security status 3A. The briefing rooms on the fore side of the flight deck is as far as any visitors are allowed to get. Sound general quarters.”
The ship intercom blared to life everywhere with a quick burst of five high-pitched beeps. “All crew, general quarters! All crew, general quarters!” SICI’s artificial voice blared over the speakers. The second-shift crew who were mostly asleep on downtime, suddenly were summoned awake to double-staff the ship and prep CIC, the armored command bunker farther back within the ship. The commander stepped off the bridge - leaving her new officer in charge - so she could prep to meet whatever she’d just invited aboard. Meanwhile near 50 trained soldiers were prepping their gear to enforce security in the hangar lest their visitors try to kill them, each other, or whatever else. Gratuitous security for an unprecedented move was never a bad idea.