Lord Greyscale
Active member
Personally, I'd rather you continued in this thread.
(mostly because I'm already watching this thread.)
War on the Horizon
- Thread starter MarkWarrior
- Start date
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- Tags
- battletech star wars
(mostly because I'm already watching this thread.)
@MarkWarrior I'm not sure I care one way or another.
If you feel that having a separate thread for the war vs putting it here is of benefit to you as the author, do that.
Otherwise, it may be easier to keep engagement with the people following this to have it remain in a single thread.
If you feel that having a separate thread for the war vs putting it here is of benefit to you as the author, do that.
Otherwise, it may be easier to keep engagement with the people following this to have it remain in a single thread.
Book 2: Chapter 29
New
MarkWarrior
Well-known member
A convoy dropped out of hyperspace in a system that was little more than a series of numbers and letters on the galactic hyperlanes. The CIS navy vessels acting as escorts quickly connected to the holonet (Or what was left of it in this sector of the Outer Rim, anyway.). They didn’t want to bring these relief supplies to Bakura only to hand them over to the unknown invaders.
“Have the Firefly pull back into formation,” Rear Admiral Shan Halcard ordered, watching from the Peregrine as the CIS Dreadnought drifted a bit away from the freighters it was escorting. “Have we received a response from Bakura yet?”
“Negative, sir,” The communications officer replied. “Holonet’s still spotty, and the techs are having to bounce things through to Bakura and Colonel Hull.”
“Very well,” Halcard sighed. “Bring us up to moderate alert status. We’re a prime target for any pirates or scavengers that might be looking for an opportunity with the crisis at hand.”
With the orders, the handful of modified Dreadnought-Class heavy cruisers and smaller corvettes and light cruisers deployed the fighter wings assigned to them and spread out to provide coverage. The freighters themselves remained in position, but had their power plants prepared for anything.
Unfortunately, what was supposed to be a quick stop turned into a multi-hour long fiasco. The convoy eagerly awaited the response from Bakura. They wanted to deliver the supplies and head back to the CIS. If nothing else, the PR win would help bring more systems over to the Confederacy.
With the Republic still deliberating everything in the Senate, the willingness of the people of the Confederacy being able and willing to step in even without direct governmental support aside from the convoy escorts would be a boon. But that was politics, and Halcard had spent most of his career avoiding those with a fervor.
“Captain!” The sensors technician called out for Captain Asteeds. “Sensor contacts, they’re not on our IFF and I don’t recognize the hull configuration.”
“Captain, forward me the sensor logs,” Halcard ordered, stepping back into the tactical room.
The ships weren’t anything he’d seen before outside of a handful of leaked plans from Kuat Drive Yards. Their triangular shapes somewhat mirrored the Interdiction-Class cruisers that Rendili had been producing, but without the organic–looking underside.
No, these were sleek-utilitarian ships, and massive amounts of fighters streaked from their hangers, the wedge-shaped ships outnumbering them three to one. Then, as if to cement the fact that they were there for combat, a larger triangle dropped out of hyperspace, an interdiction field hovering over the void as it parked itself behind the fleet.
“Admiral,” Captain Asteeds stepped into the tactical room. “There’s a Procurator-Class Battlecruiser with an interdiction field right there.”
“I’m well aware of that, captain,” Admiral Halcard replied calmly. “Given I doubt they are here to ensure the peaceful transition and movement of goods to Bakura, we must assume that their intent is to ensure we do not survive.”
The captain swallowed and then nodded.
“What’s the plan, Admiral?”
“We can only do one thing if we desire to escape,” the Admiral replied. “He who dares, wins. And we’re about to make the most dangerous gamble of all…”
“Admiral Landkai, I’ve got a message from Rear Admiral Halcard for you,” A junior officer handed over the datapad to the head of the Confederacy’s Navy.
“Thank you,” Landkai accepted the datapad and nodded at the information. “It seems they’re making good time to Bakura. Hopefully, they’ll have more luck with establishing contact with Hull and the Marksman than we are.”
“Yes sir,” The young lieutenant nodded. “The Holonet being down on that section of the Outer Rim is hampering communications with plenty of worlds. There are rumors that the IGBC is going to offer some of their ships to act as temporary hubs until the crisis is resolved.”
“It’s a trap,” Landkai snorted. “They’ll be monitoring every communication that passes through and using it to feed information to their executives for investments. Not to mention the sheer amount of propaganda they’ll be able to put out.”
The lieutenant shuffled nervously, not knowing what to say, but also not willing to leave without being granted permission.
“You’re dismissed, Lieutenant,” Landkai glanced up and then returned to his paperwork, the distraction from the numbers he’d been looking at was nice, but he had to get back to work.
Rendili, the Mon Calamari Shipyards, and many others were being offered contracts; the Confederacy needed ships, and they had answered the call. Sure, the Katana fleet had been a decent stopgap, but while those Dreadnoughts and the corvettes and cruisers they’d purchased from Corellia and other manufacturers were working fine to patrol the hyperlanes. If the galaxy were headed in the direction that Landkai and others feared, then they’d need a lot more ships.
Yes, the first batch of Inhibitor-Class battleships had been purchased, but they would need more than just capital ships to fill out their fleets. The battleships were going to be the cornerstone, with the modernized Interdictor-Class cruisers filling in gaps.
So, after a few more hours of deliberation, he signed the contracts and forwarded them onto the accounting services. Rendili and the other shipyards had submitted multiple revised contracts until arriving at this one. With these contracts, Rendili became the primary capital ship manufacturer for cruisers, battleships, and upgraded planetary defence force Dreadnoughts. The Mon Cala shipyards would be producing a destroyer/carrier hybrid, and a handful of different manufacturers would be working with both to produce corvettes, frigates, and starfighters.
After hours of pouring over the contracts, Landkai was exhausted. So, with a handful of movements, he collected his coat and walked out of the door. He was done for the day.
“Captain, get into the escape pods, everyone else has already evacuated,” Admiral Halcard wiped blood out of his eyes from the gash in his head and glanced at the sensor console, noting that the faster freighters and starfighters were still out of range of the enemy.
“Admiral, we don’t have the firepower to take out that Procurator,” Captain Asteed protested.
“No, but we have the mass,” Halcard replied. “Now, I gave you an order, captain.”
“Sorry sir,” Asteed took a seat at one of the consoles and routed what few controls were left to this console. “I won’t be following that order. You need at least two of us to make this work.”
Setting his jaw, the admiral took the second seat and started plotting out the path they were going to take.
With that, the Peregrine sped through the formation, her lighter escorts buying her time by sacrificing themselves on the guns of the enemy ships. All the while, the hyperspace-capable starfighters and light freighters headed for the edge of the system. They’d only have one chance to leave if this worked.
Eventually, the Procurator realized what the plan was and tried to change headings, only it was too late. The Peregrine plowed into the battlecruiser, shattering her shields and carving a furrow into the ship decks were breached and exposed to the void, fires started, and the Peregrine’s mass and momentum carried what was left of her through the bridge tower.
With the bridge shattered and the damage the battlecruiser experienced, what was left of the convoy jumped to hyperspace, leaving the wreckage and dead heroes behind.
War wasn’t just on the horizon anymore. No, someone had launched a first strike. And now the galaxy would pay the price.
“Have the Firefly pull back into formation,” Rear Admiral Shan Halcard ordered, watching from the Peregrine as the CIS Dreadnought drifted a bit away from the freighters it was escorting. “Have we received a response from Bakura yet?”
“Negative, sir,” The communications officer replied. “Holonet’s still spotty, and the techs are having to bounce things through to Bakura and Colonel Hull.”
“Very well,” Halcard sighed. “Bring us up to moderate alert status. We’re a prime target for any pirates or scavengers that might be looking for an opportunity with the crisis at hand.”
With the orders, the handful of modified Dreadnought-Class heavy cruisers and smaller corvettes and light cruisers deployed the fighter wings assigned to them and spread out to provide coverage. The freighters themselves remained in position, but had their power plants prepared for anything.
Unfortunately, what was supposed to be a quick stop turned into a multi-hour long fiasco. The convoy eagerly awaited the response from Bakura. They wanted to deliver the supplies and head back to the CIS. If nothing else, the PR win would help bring more systems over to the Confederacy.
With the Republic still deliberating everything in the Senate, the willingness of the people of the Confederacy being able and willing to step in even without direct governmental support aside from the convoy escorts would be a boon. But that was politics, and Halcard had spent most of his career avoiding those with a fervor.
“Captain!” The sensors technician called out for Captain Asteeds. “Sensor contacts, they’re not on our IFF and I don’t recognize the hull configuration.”
“Captain, forward me the sensor logs,” Halcard ordered, stepping back into the tactical room.
The ships weren’t anything he’d seen before outside of a handful of leaked plans from Kuat Drive Yards. Their triangular shapes somewhat mirrored the Interdiction-Class cruisers that Rendili had been producing, but without the organic–looking underside.
No, these were sleek-utilitarian ships, and massive amounts of fighters streaked from their hangers, the wedge-shaped ships outnumbering them three to one. Then, as if to cement the fact that they were there for combat, a larger triangle dropped out of hyperspace, an interdiction field hovering over the void as it parked itself behind the fleet.
“Admiral,” Captain Asteeds stepped into the tactical room. “There’s a Procurator-Class Battlecruiser with an interdiction field right there.”
“I’m well aware of that, captain,” Admiral Halcard replied calmly. “Given I doubt they are here to ensure the peaceful transition and movement of goods to Bakura, we must assume that their intent is to ensure we do not survive.”
The captain swallowed and then nodded.
“What’s the plan, Admiral?”
“We can only do one thing if we desire to escape,” the Admiral replied. “He who dares, wins. And we’re about to make the most dangerous gamble of all…”
“Admiral Landkai, I’ve got a message from Rear Admiral Halcard for you,” A junior officer handed over the datapad to the head of the Confederacy’s Navy.
“Thank you,” Landkai accepted the datapad and nodded at the information. “It seems they’re making good time to Bakura. Hopefully, they’ll have more luck with establishing contact with Hull and the Marksman than we are.”
“Yes sir,” The young lieutenant nodded. “The Holonet being down on that section of the Outer Rim is hampering communications with plenty of worlds. There are rumors that the IGBC is going to offer some of their ships to act as temporary hubs until the crisis is resolved.”
“It’s a trap,” Landkai snorted. “They’ll be monitoring every communication that passes through and using it to feed information to their executives for investments. Not to mention the sheer amount of propaganda they’ll be able to put out.”
The lieutenant shuffled nervously, not knowing what to say, but also not willing to leave without being granted permission.
“You’re dismissed, Lieutenant,” Landkai glanced up and then returned to his paperwork, the distraction from the numbers he’d been looking at was nice, but he had to get back to work.
Rendili, the Mon Calamari Shipyards, and many others were being offered contracts; the Confederacy needed ships, and they had answered the call. Sure, the Katana fleet had been a decent stopgap, but while those Dreadnoughts and the corvettes and cruisers they’d purchased from Corellia and other manufacturers were working fine to patrol the hyperlanes. If the galaxy were headed in the direction that Landkai and others feared, then they’d need a lot more ships.
Yes, the first batch of Inhibitor-Class battleships had been purchased, but they would need more than just capital ships to fill out their fleets. The battleships were going to be the cornerstone, with the modernized Interdictor-Class cruisers filling in gaps.
So, after a few more hours of deliberation, he signed the contracts and forwarded them onto the accounting services. Rendili and the other shipyards had submitted multiple revised contracts until arriving at this one. With these contracts, Rendili became the primary capital ship manufacturer for cruisers, battleships, and upgraded planetary defence force Dreadnoughts. The Mon Cala shipyards would be producing a destroyer/carrier hybrid, and a handful of different manufacturers would be working with both to produce corvettes, frigates, and starfighters.
After hours of pouring over the contracts, Landkai was exhausted. So, with a handful of movements, he collected his coat and walked out of the door. He was done for the day.
“Captain, get into the escape pods, everyone else has already evacuated,” Admiral Halcard wiped blood out of his eyes from the gash in his head and glanced at the sensor console, noting that the faster freighters and starfighters were still out of range of the enemy.
“Admiral, we don’t have the firepower to take out that Procurator,” Captain Asteed protested.
“No, but we have the mass,” Halcard replied. “Now, I gave you an order, captain.”
“Sorry sir,” Asteed took a seat at one of the consoles and routed what few controls were left to this console. “I won’t be following that order. You need at least two of us to make this work.”
Setting his jaw, the admiral took the second seat and started plotting out the path they were going to take.
With that, the Peregrine sped through the formation, her lighter escorts buying her time by sacrificing themselves on the guns of the enemy ships. All the while, the hyperspace-capable starfighters and light freighters headed for the edge of the system. They’d only have one chance to leave if this worked.
Eventually, the Procurator realized what the plan was and tried to change headings, only it was too late. The Peregrine plowed into the battlecruiser, shattering her shields and carving a furrow into the ship decks were breached and exposed to the void, fires started, and the Peregrine’s mass and momentum carried what was left of her through the bridge tower.
With the bridge shattered and the damage the battlecruiser experienced, what was left of the convoy jumped to hyperspace, leaving the wreckage and dead heroes behind.
War wasn’t just on the horizon anymore. No, someone had launched a first strike. And now the galaxy would pay the price.