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There was a particular sensation when one exited the higher dimension of slipspace travel. Some called it relativistic displacement as the fundamentals of space time caught up with you, others called it sliplag due to the fact that realms of the slipspace dimensions not normally accessed were being traversed. Whatever the case, travel by wave motion drive was something that still defied trans-light transition as any FTL capable civilization in the Orion Spur understood it, including the ancient Mantu or the Sangheili.
And some people never got used to the physical unease it brought.
“I’m so sorry, Admiral. I’ll get it cleaned up right away.”
Castor Dane sighed, but with a chuckle as the midshipman hurried to find a cleaning drone to clear his station of the results said displacement shock brought. Truthfully, the transit via the upper slipspace realms did leave him with a sense of nausea, but he was better adjusted to fighting it than a young man barely assigned to the Confederation’s pride and joy that was the TCS Concordia.
“Sometimes, I’m not sure if Sliplag reaction isn’t a rite of passage on this ship.” Those words came from the tall man with dusky black-brown hair who stood at the central information display table. A pair of silver oak clusters glinted from the inner edge of the rank epaulets on his shoulders while three thick gold colors stripes marked the outer ridge. He had barely turned his head from the main holographic display, not missing the bemused expression given by the seven inch tall three-dimensional holo-projection image of a woman in an older style Confederation Fleet uniform. “That doesn’t help my opinion, Cora.”
“Apologies, Commander. On the positive side, we have successfully completed transit to Reach orbital space, no fluctuations in the Quantum Wave Drive Array detected, and I have local space traffic control at Taggart's Point on the com.”
A nod was his reply as the younger officer turned his attentions back to Dane. “We'll be in orbit over Taggart's Point within the hour, Admiral. Shuttle can be hot and ready by then if you want to make base-side as soon as we're settled in place.”
He hesitated in his answer, and Castor Dane took a moment to look at the visual display screens filled by the image of their destination. A planet of brown and green land masses with blue oceans, Reach looked incredibly similar to Terra in a superficial sense. Marginally larger than humanity's birthplace, it was the second largest population of any human colony, rivaled only by Proxima Centauri. But like the UNSC in the centuries past, Reach was also the Confederation’s largest military centralization outside of Sol itself, as well as where the Department of Advanced Warfare liked to keep many of its “retired" tools hidden away until needed again.
That, fortunately in the renewed Kromus conflict, included the remaining powered combat armors of the recently reactivated ÆSIR Special Forces unit, and many of the specialized weapons developed for Confed's super soldier program.
Not many of the ÆSIR soldiers themselves were left alive, though. The vast majority had died in the Kromus war, many in the final theater of operations in the Krom system itself. But enough remained and in able status to be reactivated and called to the front.
Fifty ÆSIRs out of the total three hundred over the war had stood as the remains of their kind at Daiban when Vog'l had proclaimed the Kromus War ended eighteen years ago. Only twenty-seven remained alive now, and of them, under half had been able to accept the reactivation order. He had been assured by Fleet HighComm that they would not be left with only a dozen ÆSIR troops to face the Kromus Hordes, and the Sangheili Arbiter had already been in contact with both General Morris and Chariman Kea’ton about forces coordination.
Yet Dane could no help but feel like he was being kept in the dark. Again.
“Have a shuttle warmed up as soon as we’re in orbit over Taggart's Point.” His eyes went to the young Commander , who was already tapping at the holographic keypad at his fingertips. “Coordinate with base command for transfer of ÆSIR assets to the Concordia by oh-twelve-hundred tomorrow as planned, and find out who the hell this Captain Orman is that was designated forces CO for the ÆSIRs, because DAW sure as hell didn’t send me their resume.”
Post by Alasdair MacUspaig on May 16, 2019 23:02:41 GMT
It was strange how something so trivial as shaving could be a reminder of anything of significance, Alasdair thought as he stared at the image in the mirror over the sink in front of him before reaching for the towel he'd set aside to dry his face. He'd been off of combat duty for nearly a decade, yet here he was, preparing for the day as if the war had never stopped. Perhaps it would never stop, he mused darkly. The Kromus seemed to be every bit as ferocious in battle as humanity, reproduced at possibly an even faster rate, and lacked the compassion that had enabled his own species to promulgate across so much of the Orion Spur without the need for military force to do it. This isn't the time to be doubting yourself, he told himself, shaking his head before stepping away from the sink to don his duty uniform in order to report in to what he presumed would be his commanding officer for the duration of his reactivation status, barring serious injuries or fatalities.
"Right then, let's see.." he muttered to himself as glanced over the details of his orders. "Captain Orman, is it? Interesting..Very interesting," the ÆSIR added as he absently strode across the sparsely appointed barracks room to down the last of his coffee, then made his way to the building where Orman's office was located. Fortunately, Alasdair was well-acquainted with the layout of Taggart's Point, so while the base was somewhat spread out, it didn't take long for him to reach his destination before the deadline, and after a brief slowdown at the duty desk to sign in, the Beacon native found himself standing in the doorway to an office that held what was quite possibly the largest human he'd ever seen. Curiosity spiked, but ingrained professionalism took hold as he straightened to attention and delivered a crisp salute. "Sergeant Major MacUspaig, reporting as ordered, sir," he announced clearly, though his heavy brogue was still detectable.
A breath as he looked one last time at the assets transfer forms on the data tablet in his hand. His thumb pressed against the indicated space, logging his signature, and after a moment, the man turned toward the entryway of his offices here at Taggart's Point. The figure there was certainly tall, a cutting figure that physically showed the image he had formed in his mind of the ÆSIR Augments. Perhaps a decent attempt toward what they had reached for.
“At ease, Sergeant. I appreciate you meeting with me before we transfer all the remaining assets of the ÆSIR program to the Concordia.” A pause as the mountain of a man, standing just under seven feet in height, touched the screen of his tablet and brought up a lengthy dossier with the image of a younger MacUspaig displayed. “Of the ÆSIR soldiers still remaining since the Kromus War was declared over in 2959, you’re the current ranking NCO.” A pause again as he glanced over the sergeant’s combat record and history. Of particular note was the last active unit he had served under. “You also have perhaps one of the most extensive combat records of any ÆSIR still alive, having served with distinction under Captain Aran in your last unit.”
He could feel a twinge of emotion as the unit in question was referenced. There was a time where their name had carried a great deal more meaning than it did now, and to lay claim to the title without understanding what it had involved bordered on the offensive. But the morale it had inspired was a much needed boost at the time...and, in a way, their actions had kept the word alive even centuries after the fact, a contribution that in and of itself was perhaps enough to warrant forgiveness. Their actions in the war had been certainly spoken for themselves, enough that it had left a significant mark on contemporary history.
“We ship out tomorrow, Sergeant. Attrition hasn't been kind to the ÆSIR Corps, and any other officers left alive are in no condition to be redeployed. So, that leads us to you.” Another pause as Captain Orman set the tablet on the desk before him and gave a sigh. “Do you feel yourself up to that task, Sergeant Major?”
Post by Alasdair MacUspaig on May 18, 2019 0:14:07 GMT
Alasdair had served in the Confederation Army for years, and through that time, had cultivated a strong sense of professionalism, something he prided himself on in spite of the reputation he'd gained on the battlefield as a melee combatant in a ranged weapon galaxy. Still, he couldn't help but to stare at the captain as he listened intently to what the man had to say. Why was a DAW officer being placed in command of a special forces infantry unit? How had he never heard of Orman, despite his high rank? Neither of these questions seemed to have ready answers, and the biggest, quite literally, was the captain's sheer size. No human that he could recall was so massive and still fit for duty, and the only ones that could even hope to lead ÆSIRs was an impossible answer. The sergeant's brows furrowed slightly as he silently pondered the puzzle.
"Sir, I am absolutely certain I can assist in leading whoever we have left. Say the word, and I'll make it happen," he stated with an air of absolute certitude. After all, against an enemy like the Kromus, what other answers could there be? They'd made it clear that the destruction of humanity was their aim. Silence followed for another span of seconds as Alasdair continued to ponder the evidence in front of him. It struck him as highly unusual, after all, but it had been well beyond an living memory of a human unless cryostasis was involved.
"Who else is left, if I'm permitted to ask that, sir?" he inquired, decided to keep focused on the mission. He didn't ask the question that burned most brilliantly in his mind, however much he might want to know, though. There were plenty of things that he simply wasn't cleared to know, and if his growing suspicions were true, then he almost certainly wasn't cleared at this time. "You said none of the officers still alive are fit for action. I hope the plan isn't to take on the enemy with less than a single squad."
Post by Eliza Silvermantle on May 21, 2019 1:41:24 GMT
Eliza barely flinched as the Spirit of Fire dropped out of slipspace, closely followed by her escort, a total of six additional warships, though like all the ships of Arcanus Military Industries' Dragon Fleet, they were, in a word, compact, easily dwarfed by the ships of the line fielded by the navies of the great powers of the Orion Spur. Displayed on the viewscreen forward of the bridge loomed Reach, the planet the Umbran had made their destination, and some distance on its own approach, Eliza noted the massive and distinctive form of the Terran Confederation's mightiest vessel, the Concordia. She smiled only briefly, however before her attention was taken by an incoming signal from Reach's traffic control
"Ground Control, this is DFS Spirit of Fire, Eliza Lockheed commanding, request clearance to dock for transit to New Alexandria Fleet Command Headquarters, over." she announced, speaking devoid of her native brogue, as was her habit when speaking over comms, particularly with those she wasn't personally familiar with.
"Copy that, Spirit of Fire. Putting you through to Lieutenant Balkus, standby."
For a few moments, silence followed as the communication was rerouted to AMI's military liaison, who managed to be quite stern when the need arose, despite his relative youth, Eliza recalled. Perhaps that was a good thing, given that the fair-haired CEO was herself something of a force of nature where personality was concerned, and it took true talent to check her without drawing her ire. Thus far, the lieutenant had maintained a flawless record.
"Miss Lockheed, you're cleared for docking arm 7. A shuttle will be readied shortly to take you planet side."
"Aye sir. I'll see ye soon, then. My people will hold position as directed," she answered as she began to prepare the documents she would need for the briefing that awaited on the surface miles below. "Nothin' further, then?"
"Not that won't be addressed during the briefing, no."
"Understood." With a curt nod, Eliza signaled to end the transmission, then rose to make her way towards to airlocks as the crew maneuvered the warship into position alongside the rather sizable station. With nothing else left to hold her attention, the Witch began to silently question just how dire things were that she'd been sent for so quickly, rather than simply contacted for a conference call as was the norm. Then again, the Kromus were every bit as dangerous as the other foes humanity had faced and only barely survived, she mused. Perhaps it was bad enough to warrant to Black Box, even with all the complications such a series of options would almost certainly bring.
The concern was not misplaced. After a moment, Captain Orman gave a shrug of his broad shoulders. ““Hardly. I’m not at liberty to discuss the current state of the ÆSIR program, but rest assured, measures are being taken to correct the problem. You being one of them." He was silent for a moment, as if studying MacUspaig’s reactions. Considering that the man was one of few of the Confederation’s super soldiers left alive, it no doubt was a weight that was being impressed upon him with the situation they faced.
“I’m about to oversee the preparations for asset transfer to the Concordia, as well as meet with Admiral Dane regarding forces coordination. There are a few other matters as well I need to attend to before we make way. If you haven’t already been down to the Vault, Sergeant, I would suggest you do so and make sure they have a suit readied for you.” Orman paused in his words as he picked up the tablet from his desk, then returned his gaze to the ÆSIR trooper in front of him. “I assume you still have your assigned Macro AI, make sure they get integrated with your suit and are ready for combat operations. I’ll likely speak with you again before departure tomorrow at thirteen-hundred hours. Until then, dismissed.”
Post by Alasdair MacUspaig on May 29, 2019 22:29:17 GMT
Alasdair listened attentively, weighing each statement in his mind, even if his expression said little regarding his thoughts. The impossible answer seemed more and more likely to him, but that concern was summarily dismissed for the moment. It hardly mattered whether that answer was the truth, he wouldn't have been placed in command if he were not fully capable of his position. More importantly, they'd both be quite busy soon enough by all indications, and he'd need his full focus on the task ahead.
"Understood, sir. I've still got Loki, so I'll head down to get that sorted right away. We'll have everything squared away best can be done for deployment, what's not already been done," he answered. Having been dismissed, the ÆSIR operator then turned and made his way towards a more familiar location on the base known simply as the Vault in order to prepare for the coming conflict.
Groundside in New Alexandria, two particular figures walked down the corridors toward the main hanger bay. One wore the dark navy blue inform of a fleet officer, a pair of thick gold colored stripes marking the hard epaulets which adorned his shoulders as he glanced now and then at the data tablet in his left hand. Behind him was a very out of place large individual with a thick mane of fur framing his head, dressed in a uniform consisting of light combat armor that was colored to resemble the lighter blues of the Confederation Army with shoulder epaulets marked by a single brass colored bar each, and a tablet sized wristcom unit strapped to his massive forearm.
“I understand that they've got construction yards here on Reach and they helped fill a lot of holes in the fleet with the damn restrictions GalFed put on our ship construction for the last century, but having a meeting with a civilian contractor this close to the Vault and Taggart's Point is pushing it.”
The Jiralhanae trailing behind the fleet lieutenant carefully maneuvered around oncoming foot traffic, as even with being smaller than most of his species, he was still twice the size of average human, and a rare enough non-human member of the Terran forces that it was hard to consider ahead of time the spacing needs. “The timing of this meeting with Arcanus’ chief executive officer with the assets transfer of the Vault to the Concordia is ill coordinated, I admit, and the fact Captain Eisen is running escort to Daiban for General Morris hasn’t help assignments here.”
“I’m honestly surprised you got stuck with base side duty, Mauk.” Lieutenant Balkus raised a brow while turning his head back enough to meet gaze with the Jiralhanae. “Fresh brass bars from Mountain Point or not, your combat scores should have put you with the new units for Concordia, and you trained under Commander Malkovich during his instructor stint there.”
A heavy nod, but the young officer gave no sign of disappointment. “There may be other needs for me here if this is where it was seen fit to place me.”
“You were friends with Malkovich's little brother and John Aran’s girl, weren’t you?” Not an invasive question, or Balkus at least assumed not. “I heard about the accident with the Lusitania, almost two years ago now, was it?” Again, a slow nod was the answer he received. “Damn shame, honestly. Can’t have been easy for any of you. I could try and shift things around before the fleets depart if you want, Mauk, they could use you more out there with your talents than riding a desk here.”
The Jiralhanae hesitated to answer as they reached the hanger bay lift. He pondered the offer, but shook his head. “For now, I should do my duties as assigned. If opportunity presents itself, perhaps I will reconsider.”
A heavy whir and a thump signaled the lift's arrival, allowing the pair to step on once the safety doors had cleared entry. A sigh as Balkus tapped the selection key, then waited as the doors slid shut and the lift descended down into the hanger bay. They should be expecting their guest soon enough, after all.
Post by Eliza Silvermantle on Jun 2, 2019 3:15:58 GMT
The descent onto Reach was one that always made Eliza slightly anxious, even when there was very obviously no danger to worry about. It wasn't often, after all, that the woman wasn't either personally armed or aboard a warship sporting enough firepower to challenge any vessel of its tonnage. Mercifully, the ride down was not long, and she was able to order her thoughts reasonably well by running a mental inventory of what she'd need to address in her coming meeting. She had indeed, in the end, brought along the metallic data cube that contained the R&D information AMI's Black Box had conducted, though it remained to be seen whether she would broach the subject. So far as she knew, the meeting was simply a secure order to increase the production of warships for the Terran Confederation.
All of those thoughts came to a screeching halt, however, when the lift doors opened at the hangar bay to reveal the familiar face of her liaison and..for a brief moment, less than a heartbeat, fear flooded her slender frame as she was met face to..abdomen with a Jiralhanae. While Eliza knew that some clans had in fact joined Confed, she'd not seen one up close since before AMI had even been founded, during the days of the Covenant. It had been a single encounter, but the results of that event remained visible along the left side of her face.
"Lieutenant Balkus," she offered in greeting, though her voice was still audibly strained as she worked to get her heart rate back under control. "And..Lieutenant...Mawk, is that right?" she added, briefly reading the nameplate on the Jiralhanae's uniform. "Feel free ta correct me if I've got th' pronunciation wrong. Are ye ta accompany us fer th' meetin', or were ye jist wi Lieutenant Balkus?" Curious as she might have been to speak further with a Jiralhanae CONFLEET officer, she somewhat hoped that he was simply there by coincidence, still quite wary of the species that had very nearly slain her with such ease that it frankly terrified her.
A glance to the field lieutenant as Balkus noted the expression, however brief, of severe unease at his companion which showed in the fair-haired woman that was likely not used to seeing a Jiralhanae outside of old historical data and in holo films. “Lieutenant Mauk is with me to help with ground side coordination. Beyond that is need to know, Miss Lockheed, and your presence here is related to the recent revocation of previous restrictions from the Galactic Federation on our ship building. General Morris and the Joint Chiefs are calling in all of the building contractors to discuss what, sadly, is the obvious necessity in a war with an adversary like the Kromus.”
He gestured for her to follow him while giving Lieutenant Mauk a nod to dismiss the Jiralhanae to his other duties. “We'll talk again later, Lieutenant.”
Post by Eliza Silvermantle on Jun 27, 2019 22:30:11 GMT
It was a struggle to conceal the relief Eliza felt when she realized that she had simply encountered the Jiralhanae lieutenant by simple coincidence. She certainly wasted no time in following after Balkus, though, and perhaps he caught her urgency. Maybe not. It didn't truly matter, and with the moment past, the contractor quickly regained her composure.
"I saw th' announcement on th' holos, but ta be honest, I'd already ordered our headquarters shipyards ta full wartime production a week prior ta war bein' redeclared. I'm sure ye recall that report. Sightin' on th' coreward frontier?" Eliza let out a soft sigh as they walked, her thoughts beginning to turn towards what the coming meeting might mean for humanity, for AMI, and for herself especially. "So, it's th' entire top brass this time?"
“General Morris is busy with coordinating with Chairman Kea'ton on Daiban, so Admiral Nagawa is handling matters for the fleet regarding production needs.” Lieutenant Balkus gestured just before leading her into another hallway, picking up his pace as they strode down the corridor. “We just found out last week that Chairman Kea'ton has completely revoked all the ship construction restrictions put on us since seventy years ago, meaning everything ConFleet froze at the end of the war eighteen years ago is back on the table. Misriah already submitted two new quick strike battlewagon proof of concepts since the resumption of wartime state last August to replace the old Chimaera, and as I understand, SinoViet has been quite busy the last few months as well.”
Another turn and boarding a lift, leaving the pair to wait as they rose up into the main complex. Balkus took a breath, his eyes not turning directly toward the woman, not yet. “Miss Lockheed, I’m aware Arcanus has been keeping up with patrol vessels for GalFed Police, but to be quite frank, considering the situation we’re facing, I hope you and your teams brought something seriously impressive to the pool.”
Post by Eliza Silvermantle on Jul 17, 2019 23:48:20 GMT
Eliza said nothing for a moment, weighing whether to say anything then, or if she should simply wait until they began the meeting proper. In the end, a combination of pride and an urge to set the man at ease won out. "Sir, we've na stopped our research and development fer warships and affiliated systems jist coz th' politicians on Daiban put us on hold. I donna want ta promise anythin' too daft, but we're as ready as ye could hope fer us ta be," she started as she turned her gaze towards the lieutenant. "A lot will change after this meetin', I'm certain. Here's ta hopin' that's enough, aye?" She couldn't very well announce the specifics until the meeting began, but hopefully, that small answer would help relax the liaison. "Admiral Nagawa, though..this is bound ta be an interestin' meetin'.." she remarked, more thinking aloud than making conversation. "I donna suppose ye've told her anythin' of our previous work? There's a few new developments that might catch her off guard otherwise."