Season 2, Episode 7: Lepcis Magna Part I

Commonwealth of Saumur National Territory
Karakulac Region, Midori Sector
April 23rd , 84 AE

It had been about fifteen days since we’d returned as heroes to a nation that had no real focus for its aggressions. The eighteenth fleet came home with thirteen surviving vessels out of fifty and yet somehow the victory, despite being termed pyrrhic was being studied by everyone in military circles as the strategy, maneuvers and elements of the battle were being released in varied security packages to concerned parties. It was the public that got the least not surprisingly as they heard the battle spun through the lens of the media after its complexity was diluted by the public relations aspects of the government and military. The cost of the battle was mentioned of course but it seemed abject, a number on a ledger as the pundits talked about how the battle only cost thirteen thousand two hundred and seventy five lives as though the loss of the population of a small city was something to be trivialized. The number was often compared to the estimated losses of some theoretical battle that realistically would never occur as though it was some sort of great savings of life in a net equation. Flag draped coffins came back, often empty or bearing remains that were small enough that they could never fill the coffin while the coffins themselves more often than not stood as a mute criticism of the cost of complacently and bureaucracy. Brief clips of battle damaged warships from the 18th punctuated the media coverage as commentators and military analysts interpreted things in the usual ways expected. Some condemned and others applauded but it was generally agreed that a new era of warfare had dawned and something had to change. The 18th since its arrival had received very aggressive repairs even as the requisitions for ships and crews were sent…the facilities went into over drive working twenty four hours a day seven days a week to get the “Fighting Eighteenth” back into combat shape.

On the other side of the situation the Coalition had to relatively tightlipped about the entire engagement, a squadron's Admiral had been brought up on charges for dereliction of duty and the matter had been drug all the way up to the Council Chambers. Elsewhere, a massive battle had cost the Coalition dearly on its Northern Approaches where an Escort Carrier with the Revenue Marine had been completely lost and her escorts mauled beyond recognition. The entire engagement had been a lure and the first responders had been massacred in a well prepared trap. While the Commonwealth was celebrating a victory, the Coalition was licking its wounds. However, despite that... it might have been utterly surprising when a Coalition Battlegroup arrived within the Karakulac Region completely unexpectedly. Indeed, it didn't even arrive from one of the convoy routes. The Pristine white hull of the CNV Katosha Baruc arrived halo'd by brilliant flashes of her battlegroup. It was no squadron, but a full Battlegroup escorting the Vlaew Class Battlecruiser, four of the rarely seen Minchet Class Missile Frigates cruising in escort. Behind her, a pair of Mk. 5 Standard Ore Haulers and one of the incredibly rarely seen "Hulk" Class Super Freighters were escorted by a pair of Escort Carriers and their attached Destroyer Torpedo Boats and Grubs. A flight of Grubs led the formation, screening. Three Letter Class Dispatch Boats, a Bollard Salvage Tug, and Three Crate Class Fleet Auxiliaries. Most notably... the entire formation was not included in the Coalition Registry of Naval Vessels, despite having active and up-to-date Coalition IFF Codes.

The sudden arrival wasn’t met with a clear border, but then this probably was expected. The naval command of the Commonwealth was expecting a Serian reprisal for the successful raid. Even though Commonwealth Command had not approved the raid and found out of its occurrence after the fact. By then it had become politically dangerous to attempt to penalize the 18th given the nature of the victory. At the border the normal patrol units moved in the general vicinity, each was comprised of three Meroe Mk III torpedo sloops with a single Towhee Mk II class frigate. Further inward the Commonwealth had stationed at least four Zeugma Class destroyers and two upgraded Sakalera-Tara Class Armored Cruisers. Though the markings on the vessels and their IFF transponders would reveal some of the vessels were from the 15th fleet, and others were from the 13th. It was clear security had been tightened but for those in the know it was two-fold, the obvious increases because of the threat but also because the area had become a critical staging base after it proved itself. One of the two cruisers with the IFF identity of CSS Sovereign would transmit a simple encrypted Unicode challenge to the foreign intrusion, the message read as the following.

“Halt and identify you are about to enter Commonwealth territory Please identify or we will be forced to open fire.”

The immense formation of warship cruised slowly to a stop, more so to make sure that the immense freighters did not smash into anything. The message was received and replied to in simple form. "Supplies for the 18th Fleet. Courtesy of CDMT Exhumer, Admiral Koronikov's Regards." The warships didn't make any attempt to accelerate into Commonwealth space. The big freighters weren't hiding anything, either, with sensor returns off them revealing truly immense amounts of standardized raw materials that the Coalition had determined were in constant high demand in the Commonwealth over ages of trading... most all of it 'rare' minerals or simply high demand minerals. The Big "Hulk" was carrying base fabricated items ranging from hand weapons to Bulkhead trusses, Medical supplies to hundreds of Containers filled with preserved food. One of the three Crates was noting on its IFF that it was carrying nonstandard Coalition Fuel, but full resupply for Commonwealth Vessels. Weapons across the fleet were powered down respectfully, however two of the Commonwealth vessels would notice a pair of gravitic eddies that briefly cut graceful arcs through space before drifting away to be unseen once more... The eddies were separate from the Coalition Fleet, but had no start point or end point... no -reason- for being there. Perhaps, the Fleet's defenses weren't all visible.

The patrol group signaled just as soon as the transit scan was completed. This was a bit of standard procedure if a Coalition group identified itself as a cargo courier. The key things scanned for were the expected hazardous materials as well as radiation signatures that were not within the normal range for the profiles of the arrivals of the vessels scanned. Other oddities were looked at such as hull differences and any signs of hostile boarding and or hijacking and the IFF codes were scrutinized in full detail.  The process did not take long before the same cruiser would inquire the expected statement; “Exhumer, please state your destination and duration of visit.”  The sentence was a simple enough one in unicode though the Commonwealth occasionally used a special mathematical version of Unicode for the query. On the surface it was normal Unicode but buried in the transmission was a mathematical code that allowed a crew to call for help if under duress by a hostile boarding party.  The CNV Katosha Baruc responded; "Kincross Industrial. Under order to deliver to the 18th Fleet and to forward the Admiral's regards to the Staff Admiral Duvalier. I hate to be pushy, and while it is an honor to be working the Admiral's Deeds... The longer a Hulk Class Super-freighter is sitting in one place... enough money is being spent to deploy whole Destroyer Squadrons." The Fleet, however, did not move or begin moving... though a ghost of a gravitic Eddy slipped through the Coalition Fleet, barely visible amongst the unpolarized gravitic fields of the freighters and escorts.

“This is regional traffic control, we have taken note of your request and you are being given a faster route in. You have been cleared a path to kincross the route information should arrive in a few seconds… if you have any queries about the route the line is open.” With that the Coalition was given a specific route in that apparently did not match the prior ones as noted before, then again it was also likely noticed that the safe passages through the barrier nebula probably shifted and moved periodically. Either way the group would have to maintain a fairly tight formation to pass the route provided but then it would take significantly less time. The fleet polarized its gravitic fields and began to advance... the space around the immense Hulk twisting visibly as light itself was bent and warped around it due to the strength of the gravitic bubble getting the huge vessel moving. The massive gravitic field, combined with the competing fields of the two Ore Haulers effectively masked any other readings... To the point that one of the Minchets got too close to the Titan and it's underside lit up like a brilliant flash as the competing gravitic fields overloaded the Minchet's Gravitic Nodes on that side and caused them to pop in brilliant white sparkles. While this would typically be almost completely disabling, the Salvage tug moved into position without missing a beat and began towing the Minchet behind the formation amongst the Auxiliaries. As the Coalition group moved the patrolling group of corvettes had already returned to the original patrol route they deviated from to investigate the new arrival. Truthfully, it could be said that the group had moved back to route rather rapidly. This wasn’t meant as a sign of disinterest but rather a strict observance of maintaining the outermost patrol route’s integrity against possible incursion. There was also the fact that the Meroe class of vessels respectively were very agile at sub-light speed already which helped them along. By the time the Coalition vessel had its mishap they were well clear of visible observation and would have only detected a distress call if there was one. The Remaining half of the heavier patrol consisting of two destroyers and a single Sakalera-Tara also pulled off but were in range to have spotted the event. Only one destroyer of the patrol remained in a visible position though as the others in its group had disappeared into an area of the nebulonic barrier disappearing somewhere near what one might call an active ionic storm front. The single destroyer seemed to slow before an official inquiry was made as to if the coalition group required any towing assistance.

The Salvage Tug responded with a friendly Negative, something along the lines of; 'she may not have guns and missiles, but the girl's got some legs. We'll manage the tow, but thank you for the offer!" The Battlegroup continued into Commonwealth space to meet with whomever was at Kincross. They seemed generally thankful for the lack of turning, as something the sheer size of an Ore Hauler had trouble making turns - As the Commonwealth no doubt knew after many runs along the Shimmering Highway (I think that's the name.) - one could only begin to guess how difficult it would be to maneuver something the size of a Hulk... which was a class rarely seen and never outside of Coalition Borders, and secure Zones in the Coalition at that.

The trip in would be a somewhat simple affair though in passing through what was labelled the ‘mantle’ of the pseudo nebula that occupied a portion of the region around Kincross. Any intercepts of communications traffic might catch unencrypted transportation warnings regarding ionic disturbances in the mantle and the occasional snipped of the casual communications traffic from Commonwealth non-military vessels. There were other freight vessels and such about based on the varied snippets that spanned across several languages. None of it was tactically useful through in some cases the issue of traffic control and the ion disturbances causing delays were a point of frustration. Somewhere someone on a freighter seemed to be grumbling about being delayed in arrival at a juncture point because of a VIP being granted immediate priority…hmmm wonder who that might be.  The end of the trip in was handled rather simply, as the coalition group arrived to find a brief delay as what appeared to be a tanker vessel darting past. As the vessel neared an emergency berth the sensor returns on it shifted dramatically… the fuel tanker sensor return disappeared revealing something that resembled an elongated Meroe class but it’s IFF was returning fully scrambled and it bore no markings of origin or identity. The ship was guided to an internal dock and traffic control apologized for the brief delay before the coalition was given final approach vectors. The big Freighters were so immense that they would need tugs to be moved into position. The more nimble Auxiliary carrying Standard Fuel for the Commonwealth managed herself and slipped into the berthing assigned to it. The other two auxiliaries slipped into parking orbits while the rest of the ships slipped into theirs save for the salvage tug requesting a berth for the repair of the damaged Minchet Class. Fortunately Kincross was a massive facility equipped to handle ships of a similar scale and had more than a few deep space towing vessels to aid in the necessary docking procedures and such. If the commander of the Coalition group had any prior reference to the industrial yards the description would no longer fit as the yards were growing at a fair pace to replace the losses incurred in the fighting. It looked like the yards was one of the places that would definitely be breaking some sort of record by the time the dust settled at the end of the conflict. As the group docked the yards where full of activity otherwise as ships flitted about moving in coordinated lanes with set variances for position and distance.

The Battlegroup sat silently, the tug requesting locations to drop gravitic anchor balls for the ships without berths at the immense station so as to keep them out of shipping lanes. Many of the ships, once anchored, began flowing holographic ensigns and pennants, and lit up in-port "deck" lights on the outsides of the hull... typically coalition ships ran "dark" to keep LIDAR detecting passives at bay. However this far in, they might notice one of the wispy gravitic distortions slipping through space behind one freighter or another... before disappearing just as quickly as it appeared. The Captain's gig aboard the big Vlaew detatched and slipped over to the station to dock... Onboard, was one Admiral Ts'cae Emberwing. The admiral had once had a chip on her shoulder, a lowly sub commodore in the third fleet...  barred for advancement due to her species. Indeed, only the fact she was female had got her the Command of the CNV Tribideux all those years ago... which had led her to meeting the Commonwealth for the first time. The 'young' firebrand of a subcommodore had thought such a thing would catapult her into a new rank... but instead, the Therion Council, and their contacts in the third fleet made fit to sweep the subcommodore under the rug... can’t have a non-council race claiming such a monumental occassion, now could they? To make matters worse, then that Gadzu admiral "Koronikov" transferred her to a backwoods fleet guarding the Industrial Fleet! But, the angry 'hatchling' she had been... had been through alot since then, met alot of people, and fought beside moreso. She now saw why that Gadzu had done so, Council races like the Therions and Teruvians would never have allowed a non-council race hold a full flag officer's position... and she would have been like that Sutfein Captain who was -still- aboard that Monitor. No, the Gadzu had saved her Career... and shown her much more. She could be promoted in the Industrial Fleet, hidden away as it was, and she wasn’t a brutish savage firebird there. It took a lot of work, and a lot of concerted effort... but, in the end, she had even convinced herself she wasn’t a savage or a brute. It didn’t all happen at once, she just didn’t wake up one day and realize her feathers were mussed and in need of a preening... or instantly begin giving her crews better treatment. But... over time, she learnt. Now? She was High Admiral Koronikov's handpicked emissary. Beyond that, she was her -race's- emissary to an important being who not too long ago had almost been immolated with a squad of sixers by religious cultists made up entirely of her race. She found herself nervously preening her wings with claws and beak on the flight over and chided herself... she was an Admiral now, and she was preening like a lamed ensign about to enter the Captain's cabin wondering if she were to be set afire and disposed of. As the hatch opened, she straighter her orange, yellow, and red Cinnabaran tunic and stepped into Kincross, the colorful tunic matching her firey orange, yellow, and red phoenix like feathers and contrasting with the Coalition navy blue sash, bandolier, trousers, and blue-gray puttees around her ankles above bared feet... talons soft clicking on the deck. "Admiral Emberwing, requesting to come ashore?"

The scene that greeted the new arrival was that of a major service corridor. While not exactly the lap of luxury, the width of the hall stretched about thirty feet with two walking paths on either side that were carpeted by a natural grey-green living carpet. The living carpet both helped filter the air and dampen sound somewhat and reduce the noise of foot traffic. Along the walls basic fabric banners trailed from ceiling to floor at intervals in between access data panels and decorative murals painted along the bulkheads to mask the hard angles of the starbase’s construction. Surprisingly where a structural cross beam arched to the ceiling someone had painted an incredibly life-like representation of a Saumur razor-oak. In the direct center view of the new arrival was an idling vehicle. The driver remained in the driver’s seat of the small transit vehicle. The vehicle itself was modified for use aboard the industrial shipyards in much the same way one might find small ‘golf’ carts in an airport except in this case the vehicle was larger and more resembled a jeep than a 4x4 golf cart. Hovering just beside the vehicle was presumably the individual sent to greet and escort the Staff-Admiral’s Office. The entity in question as more or less a floating octahedron comprised of two offset hemispheres. The material of the entity seemed to be comprised of machinery that looked out of place in the modern era but moved silently. It might be a point of wonderment how the components of the entity moved in silence as there were enough mechanisms to fill any room with the clockwork noise of normal operations. The entity’s hemispheres shifted at random, at times they shifted somewhat opposite and yet at other times they rotated equally despite this the automaton hovered a bit closer and in a voice that was surprisingly human simply stated, “Greetings Admiral; I am Belk, the Commdore’s personal autonomous assistant, he sent me to greet you and guide you to his office, he would be here in person but injuries sustained on the voyage home and persistent medical staff have kept his personal range limited.”

The Admiral caught herself gazing about the Passageway with no little about of interest and feeling slightly out of place in the conservatively colored space with her fluorescent coloring... something she found odd even now feeling, as no few years ago she would have been strutting about the space with her feather flared for no reason just to make herself seem more important... Was she getting soft in her old age? She found her mind wandering, trying to remember the last time she had done 'traditional' Cinnabaran actions... when was the last time she had unduly raised the temperature of a compartment to make it uncomfortable for others just to show them who was in control? Or given others a fever just for standing too close as an act of dominance? Hell the last time she'd lit someone on fire was... during a boarding action and not just 'for fun'. Her eyes refocused when she realized she was being talked to - or perhaps at, considering she had not been listening at all -and nodded to the robot as if she'd been listening the entire time. "Indeed, it is a pleasure." She stated, voice flat and unimpressed, more so to cover up the fact she hadn't caught the creature's name despite the fact her eyes were flicking amongst the gears with interest.

"Well, if you are to be my guide... then let's be on with the guiding. I'm sure your Commodore doesn't have much time to waste, He has a fleet to manage as I do.” She quickly waved a talonned hand at the Automoton using the motion to cover up a look up and down the halls to get a brief gaze about the compartment one more time before having to lock it down and not seem like a skylarking hatchling who'd seen the sky past the canopy for the first time. Best to keep her 'oohs' and 'aahs' kept bottled up.

Belk hovered and through a holographic display indicated to the waiting seat of the transport.  “Certainly I understand, I believe you stated you were in a hurry so the Staff-Admiral will have you taken to the executive win by the fastest route unless of course you deign to take a longer but more scenic route through the center of the station….” The automaton processed her words for a moment and adjusted for her request. ”Understood….fast route it is! Corporal, lets burn some road surface!”  The driver chucked at the AI’s attempt to be funny and just before he got the transport moving he simply said “It’s burn some pavement Belk…pavement!” The AI clicked noting it as the transport sped through the corridors and was probably a lot faster than expected. The halls and corridors were kind of a blur with exception to the priority vehicle elevator which was the only ‘slow’ part. Within ten minutes the vehicle pulled up to a parking bay and the driver put the vehicle’s reactor in damped idle. Belk meanwhile directed the Admiral through the executive office to the staff admiral’s office. For what little she saw surprisingly it seemed the station had more than one biome which undoubtedly was meant to make the several species in the Commonwealth more at home. As it would turnout once one passed through the double-doors to enter the lobby outside the Staff-Admirals office it would be plainly apparently the temperature jumped by about twenty degrees. The décor was meant to mimic one of the desert worlds in the commonwealth, so one had dry climate potted plants in interesting arrangements along the walls and a number of things painted in the traditional hues of the homeland. A red trimmed banner adorned the upper area of the walls which appeared somewhat domed either by means of careful painting or clever holograph. The office beyond was similarly adorned but clearly more of a functional workspace, as the room was rectangular with the admiral’s desk at the far end and a number of chairs , short couches and a few short tables. At the rear of the office Staff-Admiral Duvalier sat at his desk reviewing the holographic status report of several ships being completed in the yards currently however the one shown in real photographic style was a ship of a design probably unfamiliar. The visitor undoubtedly would catch the end of the conversation.

“Hmmm, more delays huh?”
“Uh, yes Sir, there are difficulties in getting the structural just right but I think we will make the deadline for shakedown…she could sail right now, just not with her spec-decks though.
“Oh that’s just dandy…at this rate Kakuma yards will beat us to completion, divert whom you need to get it done faster…” It was at that last part that the Admiral noticed the visitor and Belk at the door and waived for them to enter and take a seat.

“Ah, Admiral Emberwing Welcome to Kincross Industrial Shipyards, we don’t get many visitors out here but it’s always good to receive the presence of an ally.”