Post by EmperorMyric on May 6, 2024 14:23:56 GMT
In the Meridian
The Meridian was a dangerous place, convenient but dangerous.
But it was also profitable if one knew where to look and how to exploit it.
Plenty of wrecks and ghost ships fell into the Meridian, a natural part of Ancerious and its strange laws of physics and some nations specialised in recovering such vessels, to plunder them or sell them on to other buyers.
Some vessels which fell into the Meridian though, were another matter entirely, extremely important targets or vessels lost which must be recovered at all costs.
Within the boundaries of the deep, one such vessel existed that needed immediate investigation, its name was the Verdant Knight identified as a Union of Worlds Nova Class Carrier. 4km in length its distress call was subtle but known to those who had worked alongside the Union before, it was calling for aid, but something didn’t add up, something which the Carnaithian Prowler which kept near it knew all too well.
This wasn’t the Verdant Knight it couldn’t be. The Knight had been destroyed as part of joint taskforce 4 of the Union 3rd fleet at the Battle of Aedleshaven 3 months ago. It hadn’t been reduced to a wreck, it had been utterly cored by CONA super impactor torpedoes and detonated with all hands lost. So why then did it use the ident of the vessel?
It was one question of many, the second being it did not have the profile of a Nova Class either, rather one of the new Horizon fleet Dart class cruisers. Why would the Union forge one of their own distress beacons? They were an open people, quick to help others, surely, they would want anyone who helped them to know the details, unless they didn’t want help from anyone else. Something was wrong within the Union, and Carnaith knew this.
This vessel, it was a potential key, a treasure trove to find out exactly what, or who, was at play behind the scenes. But they didn’t have long, the vessel was sinking into the deeps, where corrosion would soon eat away at its hull and internals. They had to move fast, but if Carnaith was discovered and those aboard knew that the Empire had information on whatever secret sect was acting things could escalate out of all proportion.
So a message buoy was primed, sent back across into real space with a simple contract.
It asked for assistance in boarding, retrieving information and possibly pulling the ship out of the Meridian. Nations and small groups alike would be welcomed, to work secretly on behalf of Carnaith and to get the job done, it was dangerous but there were good pay incentives and lucrative further potential contracts with the Empire to be made if they succeeded.
Meet at the rendezvous point, by the buoy in deep space, and await pick up by Carnaith, that was the instructions.
The buoys call echoed through the meridian, passing into redspace, where Novish sattelites quickly picked up on it's message, and thus the call for assistance was very well recieved.
Deciding on what to respond with, and who will carry that responsibility quickly became a lively debate. The Novish navy would be the ones to answer the call, however the question of who and how remained. The High Admirals of the five fleets would convene at the Bronze Palace on Niveneh-5. At the black marble table, the five Admirals sat, facing one another with a display showing the message, location, and all known available data being displayed on a screen projected onto the surface of the table.
Early into the discussion, the fifth fleet was disqualified, due to their ongoing modernization, and a lack of expertise in deeper meridian dives. Then, the first fleet was disqualified, as they themselves seldom made risky or dangerous maneuvers in the meridian.
It came down between the second through fourth fleets to take on this mission, and after some negotiation, the third fleet was selected. Of all five fleets, they had the greatest expertise in deep meridian dives, being the only fleet to do so regularly for research purposes.
¦===<>===¦
Quick preparations were made, as the mantle of responsibility fell on the shoulders of the third fleet. It was decided that only one ship was necessary to meet the criteria of this mission. A pleura-class was modified, all but one weapon hardpoint being replaced by large tanks filled to the brim with ancerium melange, and three of four missile storage spaces being replaced with stores of food, water, ameneties, as well as terminals for a massively upgraded sensor suite, antennae and dishes affixed upon the hull like receptors to the envelope of a virus
The sleek hull of the Pleura was now decorated with practical ornaments, yet retaining just one of the rotary missile launchers, promising retaliation should the mission be threatened.
Aboard the Pleura is a team led by Scylla Perfuro, a redeemer quickly gaining recognition among the ranks for not only being an incredibly potent psion, but also a prolific author. The voyage would be a long one, however this being one of the furthest reaching missions Noviy has ever conducted, Scylla had his spirits high.
The Pleura approached, making transmissions to Carnaith about their arrival
Ghost ships were a tale as old as time. From pre-hyper Old Earth to the first voyages across the stars, ghost ships were legendary amongst ship crews. Most often, they were clerical errors or just tall tales made up by over imaginative spacers to scare junior recruits, and as the juniors turned veterans themselves, the cycle repeated until those ships became part of navy culture.
Today, however, was a different story.
Something was different about this one, the first and most obvious was that this ghost ship was real. The second difference, was it smelt awfully like a black-ops operation. A mysterious ship turns up out of nowhere months after one of the largest battles the galaxy has ever seen?
Classic.
The Feds had taken quite an interest in Carnaith’s cause, not just because of the promised rewards that the buoy message had contained. Material things were material afterall, those could be replaced. But intelligence? That was irreplaceable, and a nation owing them a favour or two was never a bad thing. So, here they were, a single destroyer. The ship in question was one of the Federation’s newest Tiger-class heavy destroyers. She carried with her only her standard marine compliment. Towing Verdant Knight would have been one hell of an undertaking, and well, they didn’t really believe they could bring a ship of that size out of the Meridian without it blowing up, or them blowing up. Therefore, the Feds had decided that it was best for someone else to try.
“IFF Handshake complete captain; buoy is on our scopes.”
“Acknowledged,” Natsumi said. “Keep on the scope, and please Mae, let’s try not to lock up any newcomers this time?”
“Yes captain,” Mae said sheepishly.
The Federation destroyer began to accelerate slowly, her drives operating well below combat limits or what one would expect of a fully powered antimatter torch. The ship sailed on a trail of hard radiation, very slowly making its way to the Carnaith rendezvous point. They had their weapons powered down, and barely had any sort of defensive measures up. It was -hopefully- clear that she meant no hostile intent.
Floating out in the dark of Bales Fallen, the message been broadcast would get picked up by the Comms relay among other things like stray intercepts and advertisements of galaxy. It would be flagged and sent to Oracles offices on New Kyria after some translation, Aeon called his sister in between the mounting paperwork of managing a new colony
Aeon: "So.. what you make of this sister?"
She stares at the screen and shrugs briefly. Akari: "Sounds like time to go meet someone and maybe get some idea what that purple hell was. I'll go prep the new science ship."
She waves a hand as walks out, her brother barking an reply. Aeon: "Take a fuel tanker with you! dont want have to come and pick you up myself." She rolls her eyes and keeps walking. He sighs and picking up a coffee mug, sips it before getting back to paper work.
Aeon: "Dont like idea of aliens.. but have to take a risk sometimes."
---
Much, much, later while in transit Akari would be sitting at the science console as the two ships made their way to the location of the beacon, stareing at the screen from the camera's daydreaming. It would be interrupted however, by the Navi officer pulling them into the system edge out of transit.
Navi officer: "Arrived at the system location, Balefire systems are ready to go when needed.. switching to subfusion to approach the beacon. Tanker is following behind us."
She nods watching with a tense sigh and adjusts her headset to see if translator is working. Akari: "Guess we roll up and see if get out hands bitten off or a welcome shake"
Been new comers to the galaxy, they were not sure of intentions. But charity is charity after all. The Ko'Kyrian ships would make way over to the beacon.
A final ship left the telescoping construction hangars characteristic of the CES methods of ship production, this ship, unlike the vast majority, was anything but CES design in origin, instead, it looked like a cobbled creation of an older hull, interspaced with clear large modular pieces jutting out of the hulls, mounting a variety of weaponry characteristic to the faction in varying degrees, almost as if their philosophy of modularity was a disease that infected the vessels.
The Derelict Asset Repossession Task, or DART for short, was merely a blurb in not-so-recent news, whose coverage died down soon after. The ships, nigh-extraoficial in nature, were the perfect type of low-risk asset to undertake missions the public would not be too keen on, although the fleet itself took little to no effort in cloaking itself, it was composed of easily-deniable vessels.
The timing thus, was perfect. When the message reached the board of Expedites, its maiden voyage was decided. Although the vast majority of the fleet would still be stationed and on hold, a detachment of three Meridian Divers and five escort ships, all Selenican and Dominion in origin retrofitted and adapted to function with CES equipment, left one of the CES satellite dockyards and took the travel to the location of the sunken vessel.
—----------
Lahrn prepared, mentally and physically, as she looked onward at the large vat that stood obliquely off the ground. It had been a few months since she was deployed to the resounding success she had within Far Reach, the acquisition of the egg was highly praised, and the low casualties, even against such a large foe, was mainly attributed, after a certain amount of political back-and-forth, to her, or more importantly, to the Panoptes system, of which she was the best user.
Soon afterwards, funding poured into the project even more, only heightened recently with rumours of full IPD integration. This all resulted finally, in a more comfortable suit, a sleeker vat, and a little less migraines.
She exhaled, the room was cold, behind her a large screen projected the general tactical overview of the fleet as it cruised in FTL, spacetime distorted all around them. She stepped into the vat to get used to the colder temperature, the amniotic-like fluid wrapped around her body with consistency thick as oil, she sat upright as the vessels snapped into realspace from their bubble, and the soft whirr of the STL engines could be heard.
The beacon made itself evident in a moment, the ships set a vector towards it, and calmly threaded their way to the meeting point.
The Herskal Directorate was always cautious about the civilizations that existed beyond their own system. They knew of their existence, and did not doubt the were known, but they were not keen on venturing beyon their borders- until a message bouy was painstakingly translated, revealing the potential for great salvage. By all accounts, it ould be a great boon for the Herskalites; they were of course unsure where allegiances lie in the great void, but they knew that assisting in a salvage operation would both improve their interstellar raport and provide a rare opportunity to procure foreign hardware without having to pay in full for it.
To answer the beckons the Lokranitz, the lead ship and only ship of the Lokranitz-class Deep Meridian Reserch Vessel, was reactivated. This itself was a laborious task; the massive mechanical computer had to be cleaned, its fusion reactor coaxed back into operation, and the hull patched up to repair micrometeorite damage and erosion sustained during its brief dives into the Meridian. Then the course had to be carefully plotted, which was easier said than done for the Herskalites, and at last the bulky, cumbersom form of the Lokranitz began to slowly press onwards to stars unkown.
---------------
Head Naturalist Loruk Krantz hated delays above all else. Time was fleeting, and every passing second the Lokranitz wasn't actively on sight was another second lost to the errosion of the depths. Unfortunately for her, the Lokranitz's initial meridian course was off by mere fractions of a degree, resulting them exiting in the wrong star system. After a "quick" gravity assist an some orbital maneuvers, they would finally be arriving at the designated rendevouz. The ship would initally overshoot the beacon and atempt to decelerate, its poor poor manueverability making it seem more as if an asteroid had a battery of bottle rockets haphazardly stuck to it. Besides being the last group to arrive, it was evident that they would take some time to slow down, a slight issue made worse by their rather crude and primitive radio capabilitites being lackluster and insufficient for intership communications, if not outright incompatable. It would seem Loruk was doomed to bear such delays as the minutes begaun to drag on into hours of slo retrograde burns.
The call of the buoy, whilst not unsimilar to many that had echoed and bounced into La Republica's territory had one differentiating factor between it and these prior messages. This one, for the first time in its history, was not ignored by La Republica de Barcialo. The satelites picked it up, relaying the message to those who could actually read it.
A call for help, it would seem. A strange mission into a place only known as "The Meridian." Such a place was..unknown to the people of La Republica, but then again, so was the rest of the galaxy. There was only one way to find out where and what this place was, and that way was to assist whoever sent this message.
There were coordinates inside, detailing a rendevous point where whoever would be sent to help would be picked up by..someone that appears to be of another nation. Surely a new way to interact with nations beyond their borders.
Decisions were hastily yet meticulously made, with the final decision that a Battlecarrier Task-Force would be the most fit for something like this. The main ship of this task force, the Forza-Class Battlecarrier would likely be doing most of the heavy lifting, carrying a boarding party that consisted of Amfibies (Amphibious Forces). The escorts, consisting of a lighter cruiser and two frigates, would be at its wings at all time.
As this was no combat mission, there would only be half of the air-wing present aboard the carrier, the space they took up now being used for supplies. Speaking of supplies, there will be two supply ships docked against the single battecarrier for the duration of this mission.
Decisions were finally made, and with the task-force finally equipped and ready for the journey ahead of them, the ships lead by the Forza-Class battlecarrier Illumino were sent off toward a prepared Alcubierre Rifle that was aimed toward their target. All ships huddled within the reaches of the Alcubierre Rifle, but they kept their distance. The journey itself carried no illfeeling for the crew, but instead it was this so-called "Meridian" that made them nervous. They did not fully realize that they were making history on that day.
With a bright flash of light from the "Rifle", the task-force was sent off at FTL speeds toward the rendevous point. It may have been a while for them to arrive, but for the tensed crew it only felt like minutes. As they got out of FTL speeds, the task-force apporached the rendevous point, the weaponry that the ships carried ceremoniously aimed high as a sign of "peace". Sensors aboard the ships lit up, showing the crew that they were indeed not alone here, and that there were many who heeded the call of the buoy. Hopefully, this would all go well.
The buoy was clear, of course. The contact wasn't. Not yet, at least.
Its appearance was sudden, a massive signature on normal signatures quickly appearing within fifty kilometers of the assembled arrivals. It looked armed - but it wasn't lazing or spiking. Navigation-wave scans began to be detected from the kilometer-long vessel, but nothing more. Its surface turned from invisible, to mirrorlike - clearly a meridian-breaching vessel - to stark black as the anticorrosive smartfluid returned to its holding bays.
"We both know why you're all here," a tight-beamed message announced to the collection of craft. "Unfortunately, some of you seem to have come underprepared. Others, overprepared. Please prepare shuttles with away crews. We will meet aboard this ship."
"Transmission received.”
The shuttle was away. The Federation shuttle was a winged craft, clearly meant for both atmospheric and exoatmospheric operations. She was unpainted, and the dull grey of her hull denoted that this was a military vessel. Save for the eight-man marine team that the shuttle carried, her cargo bay was empty. There were no concealed weapons, no bombs, no missiles save for the marine’s equipment, and the few drones that were standard equipment.
Marine sergeant Toshiko stood on the metallic deck of the craft. It was roomy, for once. These shuttles often carried double the amount of people they did now, and it was often much like a crammed canned goods canister inside one of these things.
The journey the shuttle was undertaking was not particularly far, and it would only be a few minutes before they arrived at the Carnaith vessel and were greeted by their “employer.” Toshiko had only been briefed briefly on who Carnaith was, she knew they were not human, and she didn’t care if they were or weren’t. That wasn’t her concern. She was more concerned about what they would actually find aboard Verdant Knight. She didn’t exactly expect an army of eldritch horrors, but that didn’t mean that they should let their guard down either.
“Touchdown in three,” the pilot said.
Toshiko nodded.
“I assume that we’re all ready then?” Toshiko asked. “Remember, we’re here to make a good impression on these people.”
“Yes, Sergeant!” came the unified response
A smile crept across her lips, “Well, let’s see to it then.”
The Federation shuttle touched down softly on the Carnaith vessel’s hangar bay, and with it, off went the marines.
The Ko'Kyrian ships would wait until the owners of the beacon turn up, keeping to the fleet coms between science ship and tanker. Akari would watch as ships floated by the beacon on the screen.
Comms Officer: "Message recevied, requesting shuttle docking for team... Yoki" He pauses and then looks at Akari giving a thumbs up. She knows and goes to collect the gear with her handmaidens before heading to the shuttle.
Its curved white hull and orange panelled wings, would leave the hanger of the science ship and makes it way over to the Carnaith ship, flying into the hanger and landing after some minutes. Three Ko'kyrian would step off the shuttles ramp in flowing white robes, mixed with armour, shard rifles slung on their backs with safety on.
Akari: "Well.. this is a first, she sighs softly and looks about wondering what a Carnaith is before spotting some of the others, fellow humans was a bit unexpected.. and they were different? round none fur ears and no tail? Even eyes different." Her attention staring was broken by one her handmaidens poking the arm and asking if brought everything, which she nodded and waits.
Akari: "Yes.. yes.. i brought all gear in the shuttle. Not keen on the purple hell dive though.. but as needs must." Somewhat still distracted by all new sights and sounds.
The transmission from the kilometer-long vessel managed to make its way into the headset of the communications officer aboard the Illumino, and the message was relayed throughout the RDB task force. It is to be believed that the battlecarrier and its escorts would not be needed, much to their disappointment (and slight relief). Instead, a shuttle would go in their stead.
"Confirmed," responded the comms officer, who made sure to alert the shuttle crews.
From the hangars within the carrier, a shuttle exited and began its journey to the Carnaith vessel. Inside the shuttle was 14 crewmembers, 2 of which are pilots and 14 of them being Amfibies. This was no combat mission, so the shuttle was hardly armed and the soldiers carried only regular equipment. There was, however, some utility equipment stored within the ship. Just in case, of course.
As the small vessel flew toward the Carnaith vessel, the crew within had a slight sense of nervousness as this was uncharted grounds for all of them. They only had the slightest of briefings beforehand, so they only knew a little about their employers. The fact that they were going to some "void between dimensions" seemed to bother them more.
Eventually, the shuttle landed, and the Amfibies poured out of their vessel one by one, standing in a row outside their shuttle. Some of the soldiers carried their equipment on their backs before setting it on the ground before them. Amongst them was their squad leader, who stood in front of them, ready to introduce the squadron to the others within this hangar, should something like that occur.
The DART flotilla, vagarously drifting towards the beacon, slowly ground to a halt in response to the reveal of the large vessel and the message sent out. The forces of the flotilla fanned out, though not numerous, they protected a central vessel and the three meridian-equipped vessels which shimmered from their unique plating in comparison.
The original plan was a simple and direct dredging of the vessel from the meridian, however, with the opportunity to test their salvage crew within a particularly unique environment, a small vessel detached from the main leading ship, an iconically cheap modular transport, and made its way towards the large vessel which beckoned it.
“A salvage team is headed, we will board the vessel to locate optimal points of anchoring for dredging.” - The message rung out, not produced by fingertips but manifested tangentially by the half-dreaming mind of Lahrn, though the majority of her functions ended now, and she could do not much more than relay orders and watch from realspace.
—--
Meanwhile, the vessel burnt its pink trail of a way towards the ship, it was like a thick hexagon, extruded upon one end to fit smaller hexagons within the mid section, sporting a sizeable hangar for what felt like the equivalent of a spaceborne IFV, and what was a cheaper version of an already cheap utilitarian vessel.
Within it a team of 3 personnel, a commander, a field medic and a field technician, but also three medium autonomous drones, roughly the size of a common mus’vanus and designed as such too, but in a body of highly efficient materials and synthetic muscles, an initial bid for the creation of an automatic army, with a simple inception.
The Lokranitz would slowly adjust its trajectory after a series of retrograde burns to fall into position with the buoy. The hundred meter large research vessel was dwarfed by the meridian-breaching vessel, with the optical sensors aboard the Lokranitz scouring the nearby ships as the researchers speculated at the purposes at the technology they did not comprehend.
When they recieved the transmission, it would be a few moments before they could actually figure out what the devil it said, the analogue computers slowly translating the signal into text, text in a language that would be- for lack of better words- alien to the Verkroans crewing the ship. They saw there was some buzz going about, but the ship would lay silent until at last they made heads or tails of the situation and realized they needed to send a shuttle. A shuttle which they decidedly do not have. Some of the text was lost in transmission, but they were able to make out prepared and a general sense of dissapointment.
After another minute of whiring gears and spinning discs, they at last were able to transmit their reply. The transmission would be weak at best, slow, and a little choppy, and it would be clear by the aerial wire now trailing out of the ship that it would most definitely not be a tight-beamed transmission- if that even mattered with how short range the signal would have been.
Acknowledged. Issue: Lacks shuttle. Requesting assistance.
While they prayed to see if their transmission would even be acknowledged, the crew would be preparing for the breach, for they believed their lack of readiness for the breach was the cause of dissapointment. Heavy mechanical shutters would slide into position over vission ports, leaving only observation slits, while the radiator ports along the side of the vessel began to close as the reactor slowly reduced power to just the bare minimum required for meridian breaching.
Despite not being designated as such - the Pleura would be just about small enough to pass and act as a shuttle.
Shuttle-sized that it may be, it's external fuel tanks and radar spikes made it look more like a porcupine than the sleek interceptor that the ship used to be. Despite this, it would slow down it's approach by turning around and burning retrograde until a comfortable speed was reached, moving in for docking procedures.
The shuttle would extend magnetic landing legs, smoothly landing in the Carnathian ships hangar bays. A team of five would remain in the shuttle, completing reports as well as organizing communications, sending Naval Command a message:
Landing on Carnathian vessel successful. Void Corps leaving Pleura.
The remaining five would exit the vessel through a hatch, landing with some weight upon the hangar bay floor.
Unlike their standard naval infantry counterpart (colloquially called Snee's), the Void Corps were somewhat bulkier, with a compact RCS system and a more significant oxygen supply - trained to operate in 0-G environments. Secured at the hip was the Void Corp's weapon of choice, a BR-73 Carbine.
Their armor a gunmetal grey color, they were led forth by Scylla, who's helmet was crimson on one side, sporting a much more lightweight-looking set of armor, lacking much of the external equipment that Corps had. They would meet the rest of the deep recovery crew on the Carnathian vessel, Scylla giving them a brisk wrist-wave.
The hangar of the CIGO ship, once the assembled factions got to it, was low-ceilinged and occupied by a variety of covered craft - it would seem that under the tarpaulins there were atmospheric transports, snubcraft, dropships, and more packed tightly into racks along the walls. Imperial void arms troops, familiar enough to anyone who had used the ANCnet yet - though camouflaged in adaptive, confusing patterns - stood guard around a decrepit, weak-looking Carnaithian wearing a rebreather whose contents were clearly an orange fluid.
"Welcome to my ship," he greeted the assembled force commanders. "With any luck this is the last prowler you'll ever see the interior of. It's seen battles with Eosians and CONA, though I'll never tell you where..." He trailed off, waving skeletal hands with vicious looking claws.
"Unfortunately, one of your compatriots has decided they wouldn't need a shuttle at any point, nor any semblance of modern equipment. If any of you can be a good sport and retrieve their away party, we can depart immediately." Without a word, one of the marines to the CIGO spook's side approached the assembled group before speaking up.
"Past those doors and to the left is the auxiliary storage area. We've modified it for berthing you and your equipment."
Akari sighs and nods, turning and pulling her aids to the landed shuttle. Akari: "Well be back! hope they got a bay.. airlock or.. suits at least."
The Ko'kyrian shuttle would then take off after backing out slowly and make its way to the Lokranitz getting fair close before transmitting a message. Pilot: "How are we going to do this? airlock, bay or pickup?"
They would wait for a reply before proceeding with the picked option the Loranitz would like, the scans would show no bay.. an airlock yes.
The Lokranitz would decidedly take a moment to respond as they eventually figured out the transmission. Maneuvering thrusters burst into life as they very carefully rotated the craft to show the port docking hatch, the bugled out slab of armored steel that protecting it having slid out of the way. Clamps, designed to interface with other Herskal ships, protruded with a thin walled tube meant to enable passage between two ships.
Acknowledged. Port docking hatch unlocked. Compatibility unknown.
The ship made no further adjustments, sitting there in the void. They couldn't even attempt to make a precision maneuver if they wanted to, with how low their thrust to weight ratio was, and thus it would be up to the shuttle to try and stay aligned long enough to dock- if that was at all possible.
The cheap ship pulls up to the CIGO ship and docks, from within the murky interior comes out the ship. The commander of the mission extinguishes the embers of a cheap cigarette upon the chest plate of a rather simplistic armor adapted to be bulkier and more resilient to the harsh environments of the meridian and other hazardous environments.
"Get a move on ya tincan" He slaps the shoulder of the testing combat drone, the being barely nudges, but threads onwards accompanying the small group. Non-chalantly, the group watched the commander give his words, the own squad lead nodded comprehensively.
"Pleased to make acquaintence commander. I'll be leading my team to determine the structural integrity of the ship and see to pullin' it up outta the depths. We'll see how it'll go, but we'll of course also help in the exploration." He did a small salute, stopped by a couple of hecking coughs, before with a few motions of the hand the skeletal-muscular drones moved inwards into the auxiliary storage area, whilst the three lizards awaited for the others to arrive.
“I appreciate the hospitality, commander,” Toshiko said firmly. “If you don’t mind, however, me and my marines will be retiring for the day to run final checks on our equipment.”
She paused for a moment before doing anything out of respect for the captain. This was, afterall, his ship, and to be a rude guest on another captain’s ship only reflected poorly on yourself. She signalled to the marines, and a small box labelled AMMUNITION was brought down from the gunship, escorted by a dozen or so drones. The box was small, and if anyone had bothered to look inside, they would see it was nothing more than spare magazines and other small-calibre ammunition.
As the marines depart, they pay little real attention to the rest of the participants gathered. Often just giving them cursory glances and a slight nod to the rest of the group as they hauled themselves and their ammunition box out of sight.
The five men of Noviy would approach the commander, Scylla stepping forward and greeting him.
"Greetings, this is the Novish contribution to the deep recovery effort.."
Scylla would motion to both his sides, left then right ".. and these are out men"
The void corps would give a simultaneous nod, each giving their name and designation
"We thank you for your hospitality aboard your ship. We will be in the auxiliary room doing equipment inspections as well as making acquaintance with the rest of the deep recovery effort"
The five would turn and make their way single file into the auxiliary room, making their way to a seating area where they begin to take off their equipment, making sure their gear was up to standard. They would then proceed to make small talk with any other being in the room, shaking off the groggy feeling one gets after a long commute
It took a while but with the Herskal contingent finally aboard the assembled groups were fully ready.
Berthing in the auxiliary storage area was tight, not a great deal of room individually for soldiers or team members existed, some lockers, makeshift beds and various racks and boxes were provided, it was not much but given the very design and use of this ship it was the best they could afford.
Shortly after the Herskal had come on board, the Prowler had dived back into the Meridian. Given the depth of the target it would take several hours before they reached it, and the commander provided a briefing for all on board to attend back inside the hangar, at least it had space, and the Carnaithians were not overly fond of showing the other factions the extent of the Prowlers interior.
A small holoprojector had been deployed, showing the initial scans of the target. For those who knew, like the CES, they were well aware it did not look like a Nova Class Carrier, but it did look Union.
"Listen carefully. This is your target, supposedly the Verdant Knight going off its distress IFF. I can tell you now it isnt, I have fought with the Union plenty, this is not a Nova Class, this is something distinctly different. The plan is to get you in close, deploy you over to the target via a specially shielded dropship and to then explore the target. We want full control over engineering, bridge and AI systems along with full file maps and downloads of everything on board. Record everything, identify its craftsmanship, its design and what happened to it. If all goes smoothly, we will then anchor it and drag it out of the Meridian."
"Do you have any questions before we begin this operation?"
The relief was clear on Toshiko’s face. When they had been called out to the hangar for the mission briefing, she was one of the first ones out of the cramped storage closet they called a waiting room. Neither she nor any of her marines had used the beds as their intended purpose save as a makeshift bench. They did as she said they would, doing final weapon checks and making sure that their gear functioned as advertised. A jam or malfunction now would be beyond embarrassing, especially as she knew that to both Carnaith and the other participants that this was their first impression of the Federation Marine Corp.
She placed her rifle on her back, magnetic seals taking care of the rest. The thing looked like two rectangles stacked vertically, one large rectangle being the barrel assembly and a smaller one resting above it that was the optic. Off her right shoulder and of her marines trails several miniature drones. Like a cross between a soccer ball and a flying saucer, they were miniature drones that fed images back to the HUDs of the Marines, perfect for peeking around corners.
Her bony fingers were wrapped in metal- vacuum-sealed power armour. Nonetheless, she keyed her comlog with some grace, having it transcribe and take down the important parts of whatever the commander had to say. She waited patiently until the commander finished her briefing; she didn’t actually have to listen to any of it, given that her comm log was recording. She did anyway. It was courtesy, at the very least.
“Right” -she cocked her head- “any ideas of what we’re gonna encounter when we get aboard? Automated defences, angry crew members, monsters even?”
She said the last line sarcastically. The glare received from the rest of the marines, and a sinking feeling had told her that neither they nor the commander appreciated the joke.
The Ko'kyrians would sit in the hanger on some empty boxes checking the gear and rebreathers after beening dropped off. Keeping to themselves Akira and her handmaidens would chatter and look about now and then not leaving their spot until, the meeting when called.
Akira would listern with her team.. picking a back seats and flick her ears as she made notes on a holopad mumbling how she disliked "The purple hell." Briefly glancing at humans comments but saying nothing past tapping away on the holopad as organises info. The white and gold robes mixed with armour would be sorted so void encased tigth suit.. more elegant and easy on eyes compared to heavy suits.
Akari: "More of concern than question, hopefully this tomb can stay afloat like the last." She links up the braclet's of her team gliding a mana infused hand over with a small circle appearing briefly. "But, i defer to your lead on this and my team is ready."
The commander eyed the scan profusely, and pulled up a small device of his own creation. He uploaded, if allowed, the scan data into the device, which immediatly communicated back towards the general systems at play and the coordinating ship overhead, quietly they scanned vast databases for matches for the origin of the vessel, though more data was always necessary.
He then convened with the two other members of the small team, and replied to the commander's debriefing: "We'll be takin' engineering, if we can find it. I've got our systems running checks to find the origin of the vessel, but I can't guarantee nothin'. We'll structurally analyse the vessel and determine if dredgin' it is possible at all."
Scylla and his team walked over to a quiet corner of the auxillary room, claiming a modest space as the five of them sat in a circle, their gear laid down carefully behind them, ensuring a cleared space within their arrangement. From a distance, the sight was striking—a quartet of bulky Void Corps operatives sitting in a circle with a crimson clad Scylla, who placed a small beige bag in front of him, covered top to bottom in inscriptions and Novenist iconography.
With measured precision, Scylla takes out what looked like a stick of red chalk wrapped in thin paper, examining it. Taking off a small golden sticker enscribed with a nonagon, he unwraps it and meticulously begins drawing a sygil on the floor. The Void Corps personnel observed in silence, their gaze unwavering, fixated on the unfolding pattern
Within the space delineated by Scylla's skilled hand, a nonagon began to materialize. Each vertex interlaced seamlessly with its neighbors, forming a web-like structure, unifying the nonagon's geometric composition.
He begins to recant a passage, carefully articulating each word with care and precision as the void corps maintained their gaze on the shape before them:
And as the acrid Balrog corpse smoulders just like it began
Its crimson-orange light melts into the setting sun
And leaving us, not without a final clap of light
The Lightning Lord escapes as day fades into moonless night
The chalk on the floor glows a dim red before seemingly dissipating into the surrounding air - like small embers rising and fizzling out in the air - until the chalk has vanished.
Finally, the five stood up, and would make light banter that reverberated within the chamber, waiting for the deployment - their tone switched from somber to upbeat. With a hearty thumbs up from one of the operatives indicates the novish team's rediness to proceed.
Decompression Sickness — 23/05/2023 01:58
The Verkroans, who finally were onboard, quietly chatted amongst themselves as the four of them- with some tedium- translated the ongoing conversation, extrapolating and filling in the gaps where their technology failed. They wore pressure suits, and were meticulously taking notes about everything around them, on pen and paper no less.
They shifted around uncomfortably, the magics around them being unkown and unatural, the armed presence leaving them feeling vulnerable. They slowly waddled their longer, quadrupedal frames over and curled up the best they could to make the most room out of their tight situation, one of the engineers pulling a primitve comunication set off the back of the other, breefly tapping a short message confirming the fact they were safely aboard and on their way to the mission area, and that it was unlikely that the Lokranitz would be employed to aid in salvage; the xenos technology was far more advanced than first thought, and the presence of magic would only seem to confirm this.
Recognizing the fact the others were making their final preparations, the Herskal engineers would make their own efforts. Each had a different tool affixed to a hydraulic spring loaded arm, which simply made their tool easier to handle. One carefully peeled the wax off of a circular saw, another removed a protective cover from a radar mapping tool, another carefully turned on the supply of pressurized oxygen to their thermal lance, and the last engineer inserted a long and heavy bit into their drill, squeezing a bulb on it to pump in fresh oil. After they completed their final checks, the one with the thermal lance started clacking away at a bulky computer on the side of the driller, and after a short while of whiring gears, the electromechanical computer whirred out a basic translation, printed onto a long sheet of paper which the lancer handed off to the cutter, who held up for the commander to read.
Team prepared to clear potential obstacles.
"There is the possibility of automated defences" The Captain looked at Toshiko "The Union is known to deploy automated turrets and high intensity gravity traps along chokepoints and other easily defendable positions. On a normal Nova Class I could list you to precise location of each, but this isn't that class, we don't even know if its fully Union. For all we know there could be crewman aboard who may engage you."
"As for the ship staying afloat, it, and therefor, us, are currently sinking. The quicker you get over there, get the information and get out the quicker we can all go home." The reply to Akari was straight forward. He merely nodded to the CES commander, the gesture appreciative on the prospect of pulling it back out of the Meridian entirely.
"If that is all, we will begin operation. Make your way aboard the two shuttle craft and prepare yourselves"
The order was given, and the cramped confines were sadly replaced with even more cramped shuttles. They were not large, and with how many were fitting into them it felt like being cramped into a sardine can, in some cases soldiers were not even able to move because the teams were packed in so tight. They had no choice, the shuttles were coated in the chromatic reflective Halostone, to use conventional shuttles at this depth would be to invite a horrific death. As the doors sealed shut the darkness inside the shuttles was replaced with a low intensity red light which made it just as hard to see.
"Good luck" The Carnaithians voice came over the intercom as the shuttles lurched forwards and out into the Meridian proper.
The shuttles hull creaked and moaned as the depths tried to take their due, but they held as they crossed the short distance and latched onto the targets hull. Specially designed breaching charges ringing the main exit ramps that had flush fit now detonated, blowing a hull from which the ramps descended, the teams were free to move in, the molten metal that surrounded them rapidly cooling.
The ships interior was dark, gravity and power were off and dust floated in the air. Having breached next to one another the teams could group up in the corridor they found themselves and decide where to head.
Akiri nods after the clear answer and smiles gently. "That is fine, we are ready for the operation" She and her handmaidens give a bow and then make their way to the shuttle bay waiting until they can board.
They would pick seats closet to the door, the main concerns was getting inside the sinking derelict and helping the others. Rather than cramped inside of the ship cramped shuttle she moans words as looks at the locked metal door. low: "Back to the purple hell we go, a tomb to search and dead eyes to watch us as we go."
The dull red lighting was the boring part, a light to minds anxiety's of what can be, what is and what may come to pass as she turns her attention to the others in the shuttle giving them an appraising glance as she and her team waits quietly.
Her team would disembark and look around, the corridor was a brief distraction before they set off into the darkness for the bridge, slow with rifles raised and lights on as the magnetic clamps of the soles kept them from floating away.
"This way Nara, Rico.. same as before. Rail rifles up and motion trackers on" The handmaidens nod and flank her on way into the darkness, scope lights on. "Yes oracle." They would look at one of the locked doors and the holo map upload that was provided.
The individuality of the Federation marines from the prowler had vanished. Whereas on the prowler, wearing a helmet was an optional endeavour, in the depths of the Meridian where the Union vessel was, no such option was allowed. The varied looks of the faces vanished behind vacuum-sealed visors. Then, the Marines disappeared. The dull, uniform greys of Federation Katrilla armour rapidly faded away into the background of the Union vessel. Optical camouflage haven took over.
As the Federation marines disembarked, eight metallic clangs sounded off, like cannons, in the silent hallway as the marines activated their mag locks. It was much easier to find things when your feet were firmly anchored to the floor afterall.
“Right” -she grabbed her weapon- “Safeties on. Fingers off the triggers. If any crew are alive, try to take them in alive. I don’t want to be responsible for explaining to command why a Union sailor has a flechette-sized hole in their stomach, got me?”
“And what if they resist?”
“Try to take them in alive,” she repeated, emphasising the first word of the sentence.
There was a nod from the Marines as acknowledgement.
If only we knew more
She cursed internally. It would have been nice to get a read on the automated defences, and without knowing if there were any, or if there were any to begin it, it was a big game of luck. Toshiko was never a gambling woman, but she took the chance this time. She reasoned that her shields would save her, and it was much better than accidentally killing a Union sailor in a flash of panic.
She took two fingers and motioned down one of the corridors. None of the marines moved forward, but one of the soccer-ball-sized drones did, sending back its telemetry and checking for traps. Drones were expendable; people were not.
She turned to the group this time, speaking in an authoritative voice that she used to command around the junior ranks of the Federation marines, which was about the equivalent of having to instil the fear of god in a crying toddler.
“Unless anyone of you have any objections, I suggest we split up. We all heard what the commander told us. Our time here’s limited.” She used her thumb to point at the general direction of her marines. “Me and my team will go for the A.I.; we’ve got a bit of experience with those things, as you’ll notice.”
The Verkroans from Herskal would be rather in awe of the technologies employed by Federation Marines, but didn't ponder too much on where they actually went. They'd instead use the zero-G to counter the restrictiveness of their bulky pressure suits, using their long bodies to spring themselves out of the shuttle and into the room ahead, powerful shoulder mounted searchlights flickering on to flood the way ahead of them with pale yellow. Identifying the door, they'd slowly float their way over to it, using handheld electromagnets to drag themselves over to it as they appeared to swim through what atmosphere there was. Recognizing the fact that everyone had effective translator devices but them, they didn't bother trying to use their own mechanical translator and simply spoke their tongue. The cutter would speak first.
"We will stick with one team and assist in clearing obstacles and mapping. We are not suitably equiped for combat scenarios."
"Entrypoint identified. Preparing to breach. Neutralizing potential Delta-P"
The driller would announce next, slotting in a long and thin bit as they held on to the wall and began to drill through the door. The schreech of metal and whine of the motor droned on until at last the bit spun free and the driller backed away from the door, latching onto the cieling.
"Effusion hole completed."
"Affirmative, beggining breeching cut."
The lancer would respond, moving into positionon the door and opening a valve on his thermal lance, aiming it at the hole drilled through the door. With a spark and a blinding flash of light, molten metal shot out and slowly a path would begin to be carved. The cutter, whose circular saw meant to be used for more delacate cuts, like removing panelling or cutting wires, would be disconecting the saw and drawing out a demolition hammer, affixing its crankshaft to where the saw once was.
Meanwhile, the driller and the mapper would have set them selves aside, the driller procuring a much larger bit. Creating a new hole, the mapper would insert in a baton-like cylinder. This lidar probe would make a rough dotmap, silhueting the objects in the room ahead. Anyone peering over their shoulders would be able to see it on the large screen, which seemed to only display in either black or green, but for the convenience of the others in the party a film was printed out with the dotmap and the rudimentary picture was sent floating back.
"Dotmap of room ahead complete. More accurate map will be completed upon entry. Requesting assistance identifying potential hazards silhueted by dotmap on the film."
As they finished their work, the breech itself would be finished up. The cutter, now with a jackhammer instead of his saw, would pound at the door, the rapid succession of blows knocking free slag. Together with the lancer they'd secure the newly freed chunk of metal, pushing the plug out just enough where it still shielded the breech but could very rapidly be kicked outwards into the next room.
"Breaching point created. Awaiting orders."
Through the driller's hole the mapper would shove a bright flare into the room ahead, illuminating it for whoever would be brave enough to push the plug out first and clear the room.
The travel down was no more than routine to the CES commander, his two lackeys and and drones that accompanied them. He had been in a few ships before in dives like these to the meridian, but none this deep, on a vessel this size, or in this bizarre circumstance. This necessitated special consideration, and great care. The lizardmen suited up and the medium armor fit closely to their body, aiding their movement rather than being a detriment to it.
As soon as the pods door opened, the three stuck to the walls, aided by very faint magnetical locks on the surface, while the three drones flared outwards, protecting their flanks. First and foremost, the squad tech fetched a small device, and updated the telemetry based on the drones, providing a live feed to the other team members, as they revised the internal structure of the arrival zone.
Penetrative scans synced with available data on the craft, and revealed the regional infrastructure of the location, conducting elements detected by magnetical-induced phenomena, plotting the battlespace in the engineering-software-converted-combat-software ages ago. Attempting to follow data-based predictions, it plots a path to the likely location of the reactor - and by consequence - of engineering. The commander contacts the other squads present.
“We will proceed to the engineering section, and attempt to restore limited functionality to the ship. If any of you will follow us, link up to the local argus instance.” - He would await for any of the others present, if they would tag along with the semi-drone squad, and then start to move out in formation with one drone watching their backs, and two forward, trying to observe through penetrative scans any type of forward defenses that might await them.
The Novish team released two small droids, as a pair of Void Corps Personnel, switched on their augmented reality heads up display. The little droids looked like a pair of triangular based pyramids, perfect tetrahedrons with each vertex having a small omnidirectional RCS pack. On each triangular face laid a suite of sensors, each constantly in contact with the visors which adorned the two void corps. On one vertex however, lay affixed a small barrel – a compact programmable gyroget.
The RCS of the droids lit up as they accelerated towards the Federation of Man squadron, drifting in 0-G momentarily passing them as they began scanning the hallways directly in front of the Novish and Federation boarding crews, creating a detailed 3D and topographical map of the space.
The void corps reach the federation of man units, one of the members handing Toshiko a small chip. Scylla proceeded to elaborate on the nature of the device, he himself possessing one.
“This is a spare secured communications unit. If you wish to access live data from the Tetra-Drones, you’ll want to plug this into an AR or digital display. Compatible with most screens in Ancerious.”
Although the Federation’s optical camouflage was impressive, Scylla tracked Toshiko down by her faint imprint on the psion, her mandala giving off a particularly calm and collected vibrance. Toshiko was not to be fooled around with, is the impression Scylla immediately had. As such, he felt it unnecessary to explain that he and his squadron was after the same as her: The AI core of the ship. The Novish did not believe that AI were inherently evil, however they did consider AI under such strange circumstances to house the genuine possibilities to be detrimental… to both Noviy and her safety. Scylla was invested, a frequent Meridian diver himself, the blue hue and atmosphere terrified yet thrilled him. He felt the pressure of the meridian and the mission upon him, the weightiness of it all having to be shaken off, and he did so physically.
Regaining his senses, he ordered his crew forward, their weapons hoisted and ready to subdue any threats to the mission. This was not an unfamiliar mission for the crew, and thus they knew every note by heart – yet the composition of the song could be wild and unpredictable.
The heavily armoured void corps members used their own RCS packs to travel through the hallways, silent as their own optics added clarity to the virtual map unfurling before their vision. Despite their armour, they were nimble, crossing obstacles carefully, using auxiliary appendages to push themselves along. Scylla seemed to float without using any such systems, suspended under his own electromagnetic force. The team was silent, oft signalling to one another with coordinated and well-practiced gesticulations.
As the teams moved out the drones moved ahead, scanning corridors and access areas.
Already from the layout the drones were providing, this was not a Nova class. It had a completely different layout, and some sections seemed not designed for any kind of living creatures to operate, rather fully automated.
Still where they had breached the corridors all connected to a large open room, one that the Herskal and Ko'Kyrians were already breaching. It was huge, at least a few hundred meters across, while initially thought to be a hangar bay the contents were not craft of any kind but material containers, stacked on top of one another in gigantic modular cubes. There was no lighting, none of the systems seemed to function but this large cargo space seemed to lead off into other directions, one of which appeared to be the main access corridor of the vessel likely running across its spine, an easy route to the bridge, engineering and AI core if it followed normal Union designs.
Already initial internal scans revealed what the drones already had indicated, this was some kind of new vessel design. Its reactor, judging from the readings was a Union ZPR, but far bigger than the typical units found on warships, with the main access spine leading to it and likely its controls.
It was then, as the groups moved into the large space towards the main access ways and analysed the data so far that two automated sentry guns sprang forth from the deck plating. A furious spray of plasma rounds indicative of Union firearms tore through the open spaces, aiming to gun down the intruders. The plasma impacts blowing chunks out of the storage units and revealing inside them delicate electronics, chips and other high value goods.
They had to get rid of the guns, if there was anyone on board who didn't know they were here they certainly did now.
The Ko'Kyrians nod in agreement as Akiri speaks on the com. Akiri: "Yes i agree, were going to head for the bridge.. thank you for cutting the door by the wa.." She gets interrupted as her ears flick "mechanical.. sounds?.. shit! TAKECOVER!!"
The handmaidens and Akiri duck into a door alcove that branches off as the sentry guns open up. A small ligth drone getting caught in the volley sparks before blowing to pieces in fiery heap. Nara: "Big problem!" She fire offer a shard rifle shot, the metal fletchette ammo impacting the top of it and ricochets upwards as the huddle in the alchove.
Rico: "Would be nice if we brang some sticky grenades, Hey Akiri!" Akiri frowns not impressed as she trys to look for a way, tapping her pad huddled against the wall, as a another box shatters. Its contents to floor glitter off the flames of the wrecked drone.
Akiri: "Well.. i packed some hacking tools and some emp throwables.. but would have to get close." She switches to coms as Nara fires some more shots off with her rail rifle, sets an emp throwable and sighs. "Cover me, I dont like this.. but it must be done."
After ducking more return fire, she waits for the exchange volly and runs to nearest crate, throwing the emp disk as she dives.. getting clipped in side and on the leg. It would the spark and go off. She hopes it fries the targeting computers or causes them to power surge as the crates around her get chewed away.
"This isn't the Nova class. That's for sure." One of the Void Corps turns to Scylla, pushing themselves up from the a wall and floating over to the other end of the hallway in the absence of gravity to be side by side with the crimson clad psion. "No subsystems here indicate that living organisms are meant to operate here. Yet, union tech. Only possibility I see so far is this be some sort of Union project.." The void corps as well as scylla continued their methodical approach towards the main access corridor. It was silent - no air meant no soundwaves: eerily reminiscent of ships of Novish design. Most Novish ships had a pressurized crew compartment and cockpit, but auxiliary access corridors, engineering bays and the like were all under vacuum. Yet, even then there were amenities - lights and signs, symbols, warning stripes and the like. Even things as simple as handlebars and the occasional landline telecom unit to speak with the bridge on an airgapped, secured network. Here it was utterly devoid, a desert of its own kind. No direction or evidence of organic use; this was no ship of the dead, for there had been no life there to begin with.
Moving into the space towards the main accessways, the eerie but peaceful exploration of the vessel became a true firefight.
The void corp’s monopropellant RCS packs hissed as they ducked away, using the crates as a cover for their bodies against the ferocious, blazing plasma bolts of the automated Union turret. The expertise of Scylla's men showed, as they spread out in three spatial dimensions, keeping their otherwise bulky bodies well hidden, always keeping something between themselves and the anti personnel turret.
Valuable electronics and goods littered the space around them as bolts of ionized plasma shred through the cargo containers in the room, seemingly caring less for the contents of these crates, but more concerned with their one mission of exterminating any intruder.
“Gamma and Delta, you're up. Prepare to launch HE frags.” Scylla barked through his communications unit. Gamma and Delta were on opposite sides of the space, each taking a grenade off their vest.
“Copy that, Scylla. Armed and ready”
“Affirmative, Scylla. We're moving into position. Grenades primed and secured.”
“Good. Remember, synchronized timing is crucial. On my mark, both of you throw simultaneously.” Scylla grabs one the crates, and with a heave it detached from its securing supports - with a subtle red hue it appears to take on a strong magnetic characteristic, more crates affixing themselves to the structure; Scylla formed a larger barrier of cover for the rest of the teams to use.
“Now!”
The grenades soar through the air, out powerful pneumatic launchers affixed to the underside of Gamma and Deltas carbines, sailing through the open space and at the automated turrets.
“Navy’s dream right here,” Toshiko remarked to nobody.
Toshiko continued forward, taking point as the Novish team up-ahead made manoeuvres in zero-g, using their RCS thrusters with the fidelity of a ballet dancer. The look of surprise when Scylla handed her a chip and told her they were going with was genuine. To her knowledge, the Novish distrusted A.I., and she still wasn’t sure if this was a blessing or a curse. She knew that when emotion met logic, emotion tended to win. Regardless, she thanked Scylla for the chip and plugged it in as he had instructed, and much to her surprise, it worked as advertised.
She paused, waiting for the Herskhal and Ko’Kyrians to finish cutting open the bulkhead door. The vessel had been completely silent, and even if there were Union crewmembers somewhere in this wreck, she would not have heard them calling out for help. The longer she spent aboard, the more she doubted that there was anyone to begin with. On the off-chance, however, she said nothing to her marines. She didn’t think Carnaith would be much pleased if they showed up hauling the body of a dead Union Sailor back onto their meridian shuttles. She doubted that any sailor would even resist, given Verdant Knight's state.
A threat alarm snapped her into action. She and her marines ran for cover as instructions drilled repeatedly took hold. In one swift motion, she used one of her fingers to lift the safety of her rifle. She squeezed the trigger.
A staccato of fire erupted.
“Jackson, Lenz, switch to AT but hold your fire until the guys with grenades are clear. The rest of you, cover the guys with grenades,” she barked with a voice of iron.
“Aye sergeant!”
The Herskalites were more engineers than combatants. When the teams moved into the room, they simply floated along behind the large heavy chunk of freed metal. Now, it seemed they could have a use for such a chunk of metal, as they rather rapidly slammed it into one of the side walls next to the crates. The driller and the lancer braced themselves against it, fighting the pull of the Scylla's own magnetically assembled barrier. In fact, they all were fighting it, as their bulky pressure suits were not degaussed.
The lancer would tune down his thermal lance to a much smaller, needle like jet of fire and metal, before using it to rapidly apply a bead of solder fed by a by a spool on his back. With their cover now secured, the driller would tap a hole through the heavy door, which the pair would promptly take turns using to wedge the muzzle of their pistols through. Their revolvers were simple, bulky things, and would easily be passable for antiques by the standards of the other parties they were with, but would still make quite the thunderous bang and flash as fireballs spat out of the little pistol port.
The mapper would be trying to use their lidar probe to identify targets for the two verkroans actively trying to give a defense of their nation's honor and their liege lord's honor. Of course, they weren't likely to hit anything of importance, but they'd try their damndest.
The cutter, meanwhile, was using this time to fulfill the secondary objective the Herksalites had in being here. Switching back to the circular saw which was being used to free the contents of one of the crates, plucking them out of suspension and stuffing them into pockets. All of the Verkroans were doing this, really, whenever a piece floated close enough for them to nab. Their task done, they'd also add their own pistol to the firefight, blindly firing over the top of their slightly more empty crate.
The EMP grenade thrown by the Ko'Kyrians bounced across the decking in zero G before coming close to one of the guns. Detonating with an invisible burst of EMP the gun momentarily stopped firing, giving a quick couple of seconds before its systems coped with the surge and opened fire again. That few seconds was all that was needed by Nara to fire two railgun rounds into its mounting and sever it from the deck. The gun finally went silent.
The bullets from the Herskalites ricochets from the turrets, the defensive armour proving a tough nut to crack. Still one went down, the second being hit with a sudden barrage of HE grenades from the Novish. While doing superficial damage the turret was still intact, and fired a burst at them in response. The bright plasma illuminating the room in a strobe effect as bursts traced across the Zero G vacuum. However with the turret distracted the AT rifle from the Federation would find its mark, targeting a chink in the armour the round punched straight through the firing mechanisms, causing plasma to leak from the weapon and it to go dark.
It seemed like the immediate threat was dealt with for now.
That was until the lights came on.
There was a sudden whine that seemed to echo throughout the ship, then a very powerful pulse, you could feel it in your bones like a thump sound that discharged. Power readings had gone up, the ships ZPR had just been kicked into action.
A second later the gravity plating in the room activated, not just bringing them down to 1G standard, it went to 10G. Trying to crush those within it to the floor and prevent them from advancing.
The same thing happened in the access corridors, trying to trap whoever was inside where they were. Additional bulkheads closed, and likely the only reason they were not spaced is because whatever or whoever was controlling the ship knew that to break the outer seal this deep in the Meridian was suicide.
Akiri shrugs gently as the turrets are delt with, Rico and Nara would rush over and apply a bandages and some healing gel to the burn wounds. Nara: "Your so reckless, makes one wonder why your a scientist." She frowns as Rico is keeping her rail rifle pointing at the sparking turrets.
Akiri: "Thanks.. but someone has to act, overwise how will we proceed?" Nara's ears flick down to the lights coming on as the grav plates start up. Rico: "Fuck!" All of them are pulled down by the gravity, Akiri.. wincing presses the button on the spare emp grenade she was holding. "Zzzt!"
It goes off sparking with a dull static as the plate that they are standing on.. along with some their gear is shut off prematurely. They all breath a sigh of relief Nara: "Well.. that aside, i guess we got a few minutes before plate fixes itself along with our gear." She sits down and looks at the herskals and then others Nara: "Akiri? how many more of those do you have?"
Akiri: "Three more? why?" She peers at the others and.. gets the message. Rico: "Give one! HEY! humans, plates getting turned off!" She throws one at them, as Akiri lobs one over to Herskals/Ces CHET and Nara at the Noivy Akiri: "SORRY! But its only way to give you time to deal with the plates, i'll pay the rebill later!"
The last of the emp grenades would clatter down on the plates near each group.. whine and spark, shorting out the plates and some gear.. long enough for them to do something.
The Herskalites look at their revolvers and the spent brass now lingering in the air, and back at the now silent turrets. Did their guns actually do something? The were about to rejoice their victory, the driller whooping with joy, before they all got slammed into the ground.
Their heavy pressure suits buckled and groaned from the unexpected gravity. Their legs were now splayed out as they laid on their bellies, flat against the ground. The hydraulics on their iso-elastic armetures struggled to try and compensate, reducing the weight on their bulky equipment just enough that the lancer was able to try and wildly blast out the grav plate beneath the floor with a jet of molten metal.
The EMP grenades would indeed help relieve them temporarily, the sudden lack of gravity causing their sprung armetures to fly outwards until the hydraulics could be bypassed for zero-g usage. This short break was welcomed, as it allowed the Herskalites to work together in order to rip out the floor panel and attempt to prevent the gravity plate from reactivating by violently mauling at it. The only one not involved in this process was the mapper, who's large screen was now a confused mess of lines and bands ands static feedback until the EMP wave subsided. He was currently working on rebooting and recalibrating the system, going at it with some small wrenches and a small plate on the end of a rod that was evidently being used as a reference, until at last the deranged and erratic bands slowly blurred out and produced a sharp enough radar scan of the reference with an appropriate distance. Then, the poor Verkroan fiddled with a cylinder mounted to the back of his pressure suit- he had to reset the discs that made up the hard drive, which got wiped and a little bit toasty from the EMP blast.
At last, he proudly held up his work, muttered a curse upon Akiri, and stuck his radar mapper into the opened floor to try and locate the power conduits.
The plating's activation was met with loud cursing by the DART forces, as they were instantly forced down to a kneel or to the floor. 10G was not enough to crush them, given that their equipment weighted so little and was still movement-assisted, however, it was nothing to scoff at, as the technician within the group hastily ordered the drones to disable the plating underneath them.
The Drones seemed to be almost unnaffected by the change in gravity, rather just landing upon the ground. As the ZPR activated, they watched the energies flood through the corridors, pciking up the most minute of fluctuations within the conducting cabling that surrounded them, the infinitesimal inductance generated by it and its variation would point out to the possible direction of the ZPR, which they would likely want to secure as a bargaining chip against whatever was trying to kill them right now.
Still, the Drones reacted, one of them wedged a mechanical hand at a joint in the floording, and with one muscular movement pulled the panneling out, immediatly starting to fire at the conducting cables that powered the gravplating in an attempt to save its controllers from the gravitational harm. The other drone moved to do the same, and as it crouched down, an EMP grenade from Akiri lands close to it. The commander can barely make a warning out of strained breaths, before the EMP grenade goes off.
Surprisingly, there is absolutely no effect on the drone's electronics. However, the EMP induces an electrical current through the wiring that powers the artificial drone musculature, it contracts like a broken doll instantly achieving the shape of crumpled paper, and flies off from the sudden and powerful muscular contraction towards a wall, making a heavy indent upon it in impact. Its mangled mess starts to leak some sort of oily substance.
“Good shot,” Toshiko remarked. “Fan out; we need to find our way to the AI before more turrets pop up.”
For a moment, it was dark. The zero-g environment inside the Union warship was illuminated by the dying breath of the plasma turret as the team’s combined efforts slammed into it. Then, all-consuming light. A few of the marines wince in pain as the sudden luminosity surprised them, the brightness interfering deeply with their visual displays before it was calibrated.
“Get down,” shouted one, not realising that he had no choice in the matter.
The marines are forced down, their mechanical servos struggling against the Union’s grav plates. It was a losing battle. Weighing ten times more, even if their gear was lighter than the standard infantryman, was not good for either the mechanical component or the people inside who went from breathing fine to suddenly feeling as if a house had been dropped on their lungs.
Toshiko tried to inhale; breathing had become difficult. Her armour was fighting for as long as it could against the 10 gs of force, but eventually, it would fail, and at that point, she was as good as dead.
I’m gonna die in a shithole like this? Really?
The Ko’kyrians provided her salvation.
She and her marines felt relief as the ten Gs of force turned to a standard one G. It felt like a weight had been lifted off their chest.
“We have to cut the power the reactor’s providing. If this ship’s built like our own, try and find a circuit breaker, or anything and cut it.”
FWOOOOOOOOM
The intense gravity pulled Scylla and his team to the floor in a heartbeat, the sound it produced as it interfered with their audio sounded like a powerful bass boost - quickly corrected as their sensors recalibrated to the new forces being exuded upon them.
The bulky void corps that were not bound to the floor before the plating activated suffered the worst; the powerful gravitc pull grasped the floating corps personnel and flung them towards the floor at great speed. With a mangled crunch, equipment directly between themselves and the floor being crushed by the immense weight. Bullets scattered about and rolled around on the floor as magazines were utterly pulverized. Thank Nonagon the grenades themselves could support plenty of weight and trauma before giving in.
Scylla managed to pull himself up just to his hands and knees, better than being flat against the floor like a sunfish at the bottom of a reef. He pants, looking around as the bassy noise in his ear subsides - an EMP grenade slowly rolls into his periphery. Prior to its detonation, Scylla quickly grabs the grenade and sticks it onto the hull floor, whereupon he rolls over, shielding his head from the incoming electromagnetic pulse.
With a powerful crackle, the grenade detonates - leaving behind an incredibly potent ozone scent in the air as the gasses ionize. His vision dances with artifacting, compiling and compression issues from his optics gradually clearing out as he is granted temporary relief from the intense gravity. He claws open the hull, pulling metal plates apart until he gets to the wire underneath. He flicks his wrist, a small device dispensing a thin, pointy metallic object into the palm of his hand. Using a clawed finger, he tests each wire by placing an iron nail on each of the lines; measuring each one and listening intently. Finally, he heard one that he believed to be the line for secure inter-ship communications. He leaned down, focusing on the wire he identified. With great care, a small red ark of electricity traveled from his wrist, to his hand, and then into the nail, whereupon it would be subsumed into the wire - transmitting a message.
“ES PARTEIA SAUVE-GARDE NONVIOLENCIT. WIR REMORQE D’I MERIDIAN. DEACTIVI MESUR SECURITE”
“THIS IS A NONVIOLENT RESCUE PARTY. WE HAVE COME TO TOW YOU OUT OF THE MERIDIAN. DEACTIVATE SECURITY MEASURES.”
As the EMP grenades gave them all some temporary reprieve from the gravity plating the Herskalites searching for the power conduits found their mark. Under the deck a reinforced power line was giving energy to everything in this deck. To sever it would be dangerous, but would take out the power to this area, not just the plates. Everything.
As some of the plates are taken out of action entirely the main power conduit is the main bet. They would of course need to cut through the bulkheads but then they had planned for that anyway. It appeared by the various scans, that the ZPR unit was roughly 300m from their current position. They could get there likely from the internal scan maps via a bulkhead to their right and down a couple access corridors.
It wasn't until Scylla attempted to splice into the internal coms to send a message that as if from nowhere. The crushing gravity ceased.
While the alarms and the bulkheads remained, the gravity had been turned off, Scylla had made contact with someone.
"I am Captain Duran of the Union of Worlds, identify yourselves. Myself and my crew will be down to make contact shortly, the lockdown is a security measure I apologise for our automated defences"
The voice came over the speakers, finally, they knew someone was home.
Maybe this could go a lot easier than just fighting through a ghost ship.
Akiri sighs and brushes herself down, she puts up her hood as her handmaidens sling thier weapons. Akiri: "what do you both think?.. where new to this, want to try talking least once?" Nara frowned as Rico kept a look out Nara: "nothing ventured.. nothing gained." Rico: "Up to you.. but aware this can go fruit shaped at any moment in this purple hell."
Akiri waves a hand over her braclet as a small keyboard and screen appears, she kneels to type on it keeping out of sigth of camera's by thier box cover. It would appear on the over teams coms. Ko'kyrians: "Gonna try talking to get answers or stall for time.. have a plan B an C just in case." these appear as a text to talk message in green letters for them only.
she would then step out with her hand maidens as waves the braclet holoboard away and look into the camer with her ligth green eyes. Akiri: "We are are the Ko'kyrian, beening new to this place.. was under the assumption that this was a derelict and came to explore. We are sorry, for the mess." she bows a little been polite as a oracle of her rank does and smiles "i accept a face to face talk, my name is Akiri."
Scylla coughed once, groaning as he practically peeled himself up from the floor - one which he had become quite accustomed to after having been introduced to it at 10G. He swiveled his head from side to side to assess his group as the rest of the meridian deep recovery teams rose themselves, catching their bearings.
“This is Scylla, of the Novish Team. As I said earlier - we’re a rescue team, organized by Carnaith, answering the distress call this ship seems to have sent out.”
Scylla pauses for a moment, before continuing, as he turns to face the speaker from which the captain’s voice came from.
“The distress call was that of the Verdant Knight, Nova-Class. This appears to look more like a Horizon fleet Dart class cruiser, from what I can tell. Why?”
A Novish drone shuffled about helplessly on the floor, making a tick-tick-tick noise unusual of the model and make; it spun in circles, pivoting on a corner yet it was unable to take flight like its fellow drone compatriot, which was busy briskly picking out some debris from its optics using spindly, needle-like limbs which unfolded from its under-chassis.
Scylla sighs as he picks up the chrome frame, holding it firmly under his arm. Sliding a small compartment out of the drone, he pulled on the metallic tool to magnetically decouple it from the chassis. Like a switchblade, the screw head popped right out from the side - using which Scylla would open up a panel on the drone. He peered in, the glow from his optic illuminating the dark interior in a soft red hue; taking note of the disconnected and misaligned gravitic spikes within. Carefully, he reset each one, whereupon he would reattach the panel and set the drone free like a dove, springing to action and floating around the room with its functionality restored.
His finger, however. It itched towards his secondary holster.
“Fuck, this just got worse” - Thought the commanding officer of the DART expedition. A million different possibilities for the sudden communication flooded his mind, but one fact prevailed: This “Captain” was likely a complete and total lie. They needed to get a move on, something within the ship was stirring against them, and if they were their enemy, the teams were like frogs boiling in a pot, only unaware of their sealed fate.
The three lizard members of the DART party gathered with the others, in particular, the Novish. They could not risk communicating openly, after all if this was a possible non-UoW entity that had taken over the vessel and wanted to see them gone, all eyes would be upon them right now. Thus, they had to communicate in less sophisticated ways.
The commander of the group simply disagreed with his head at the others. He grabbed the tablet from the technician, and projected a map of the ship with the ZPE, raising his right hand in the air, he outlined a circle with his index, and pointed to the ZPE. Giving the tablet back to the technician, he punched his open left palm squeezing the fist, hopefully, the message was relayed.
The small team regrouped, and quietly and without rush, they moved down the hallway towards the ZPE.
As Toshiko got up from the floor, she turned to Akiri, stumbling a bit as she was still adapting to going from 1g to 10, back to one.
“Good throw on those grenades," she said appreciatively. "I owe you guys one."
She surveyed her surroundings, seeing that the drones her marines employed were laying still on the floor. The sudden -if brief- change in gravity having broken their circruity beyond any hope of field repair. She took a look at her comm log, cursing as the screen glitched out and died. Like all humans since the dawn of time with electronics, Toshiko struck it with an open palm three times. The reaction of the comm-log now, as it had been since the dawn of time was the same; nothing.
Toshiko's expression soured. Their expedition had barely begun, and they'd lost their recon capability. That meant they had only one option left, turn to the Novish.
She turned to Scylla, sending a message that read
Don't trust Duran. Planting charges on bulkheads, just in-case. Detonate on your mark.
Toshiko wasn't sure what to believe, if this Duran was real then they could simply deactivate the charges and explain the misunderstanding, but the fact that he had only appeared now and instead of when they first started breaching didn't give the man any points in Toshiko's mind. She wasn't sure what Duran was, but something told her that he wasn't what he was claiming to be.
There was silence from the coms for a few minutes, leaving the teams in an eerie position to take whatever precautions and procedures they wished.
But then one of the bulkhead doors opened.
Striding into the room in power armour and flanked by two seemingly automated drone bodyguards Captain Duran looked around at each of the groups. His tripedal appearance denoted that of a Cylaurian, and he quickly took his helmet off to look upon the groups with his own face as the room was filled with breathable air.
"I bid you greetings. Welcome to my ship" He did not state the name "You say you are a rescue team sent by Carnaith and yet I do not see any Carnaithians. I do however that we did send out a distress signal, one I did not think would get picked up by individuals such as yourselves. No matter" He turned to Scylla.
"This is not the Verdant Knight, nor a Nova class. You are correct this is a secret vessel part of a classified operation. I will not give you any further details. However I am very thankful for your assistance, you will have the full co-operation of me and my crew in trying to get this vessel out of the Meridian. Our FTL drive was damaged on route to Union space, given we are fairly close it should not be a long trip once we are out and collected. I trust you have vessels and equipment able to recover a ship like this? For now we need Ancerium fuel to help with buoyancy, if we get any deeper the corrosion will get worse and all of us will be dead. We must work fast"
Duran spoke quickly but seemed determined to work with the group. The two drone soldiers lowered their weapons, a surprise given that the Union had not deployed drone soldiers in any conflict in Ancerious so far. It was known they had the capability for them but none had been seen in action.
The Herskal engineers looked amongst themselves and the group. They had been silently, and intently, listening in, their bulky translator unit spitting out several lines of translated text simultaneously. They looked amongst themselves, and back to the group. The driller took out a leatherbound identification booklet, which included in its pages a brief description of the various factions at the end, until at last they came upon the Union's summation.
They were foe of Capitol and thus friend, yet, there was something amiss. Surely, such a powerful force in the galaxy would have greater care in the movement of such a vessel if it was of enough importance to be secret and classified. Surely there were more discrete procedures in place than broadcasting a false distress signal.
The driller did not speak, but they did show the page to her comrades. The silently looked amongst themselves, occasionally hissing and snapping as their suspicion grew. Their gaze turned upon the other members of the boarding party as they slowly brought their long necks up to peer over the boxes.
"The Losharik is available, however, we haven't the portable communications system powerful enough to contact them and thusly we are unable to be of assistance at this time." Begins the Driller, slowly looking from the suppose Captain, Duran, to the rest of the members of the boarding party. "If any of our new friends could make contact, we would be much obliged. In the meanwhile, Captain, I must ask how such a vessel as this, not far from Union Space, hasn't any form of escort or more discrete means of calling for assistance than a falsified distress signal, particularly if the mission is classified?"
The ko'kyrians listern as the herskals perk up first, she smiles still keeping to politeness as choices can mean either figthing round the out plates.. an then the crew and droids. Thought helping them can mean other things and their is alot that isnt making sense, what is truth? what is a lie? what is a twist?"
Akiri: "Well.. we can help you, but my i ask? about your droids Captain."She moves her tail briefly more as a tell for Nara and Rico get ready keeping out of sight as press a button on their rifles turning on the fletchet energisers.*
whisper to Nara Rico: "Get an angle on those droids.. keep the rifle down and out of sight. But get ready to shoot both droids in one go if they raise their weapons." whisper in reply to Rico Nara: "Yes, i know full well that the fletchet will shatter on impact and knock them down, but it has a recharge after a few shots."
Akiri waits for the others to say something, she is keeping her hands where the captain can see them, unknow to him though. Her braclet is set to a prototype shield mode, its mostly for panic moments and would generate a small shield for 5 secs of cover.
Toshiko had the detonator clutched tightly in the grip of her right hand, waiting, even anticipating, for the order to detonate.
The order had never come.
As the bulkhead opened and Captain Duran strode in, the rising crescendo of tension petered like a campfire come morning. Instead of the inquisitive, even hostile man that Toshiko had expected him to be, Captain Duran seemed cordial and appreciative. She loosened the grip on the detonator, holding it like it was just another object now instead of their only method of escape.
As Duran took off his helmet, Toshiko shrugged mentally. She wasn’t sure if he was playing an act or if he seemed to be genuinely happy and trying to foster trust between the two groups. Whatever the case was, she understood that Carnaith would much appreciate if they could bring back alive crewmembers, as opposed to three body bags. So, she decided they would pay back Duran’s seeming trust in the group equally.
Like one, the Marines disabled their camouflage, lowered weapons, and safeties on; they also seemed open to working with the Union crew to save the ship.
She turned to Duran first, then to the Herskal Driller. “We can try to radio Carnaith, but I doubt the signal will go through with all the interference this deep in the Meridian.”
“Sent and organized by the Carnaithians. Yes. We’re carrying out this mission at the behest of Carnaith”
The Novish scout drone hopped on over into the arms of Scylla, ejecting a small silver disk into his palm. With careful precision, Scylla picked up the disc, gripping it delicately between two fingers, and with a thumb pressed a mechanical latch on his head, which opened up a small tray slot, into which Scylla placed the disk seamlessly. As it retracted and processed, Scylla continued.
“Now, our mission is to get this ship out of the Meridian. While I understand this is highly secretive, this is also time-sensitive as this ship will eventually decay into the abyss with inaction.”
As Scylla finished his sentence, his optic exposure skyrocketed momentarily, light sources bleeding all over his vision as his overlay adjusted to account for the scanning data provided by the drone. His brain ached as he processed the data, digesting it bit by bit - Scylla stood still, the light in his eye flickering as everything buffered and processed.
“Let us see if the ship can radio or communicate with the Carnaithian vessel as Toshiko suggested, We’ll need to know the tether locations if we want to pull this out.”
Although Scylla kept a cool exterior, the man became increasingly wary. All the small inconsistencies in the details put him off, prompting him to open himself and sense the psion around him. Was there something amiss, something concealed beyond typical senses?
Before the small group can make much progress, Duran barges into the corridors. His presence is like a mental flashbang which rings out in a tinnitus of confusion and a searing white of blinding suspecion that floods the mind of the commander and the other lizards. Surely, this can't be correct?
The group moves back to gather with the others around Duran, introducing themselves.
"We're with DART, uh, Derelict Asset Recovery Task, pleasure to make acquaintance."
He eyes the captain and the combat drones, backdropped by the loud clunk of the own experimental CES combat drones falling from the hole in the wall that it embedded itself into a few minutes ago.
"I don't s'pose you wanna tell us your secrets, yes? Well..."
He beckons the technician with a hand, his holopad at the ready.
"Then jus' give mah boy here a good look at the structural integrity of the ship an' all, and we'll see 'bout pulling you outta here quick."
Although the group was at the ready to fulfil their tasks, there was still an aura of suspecion that lingered around Duran and his sudden and unexplained appearance after the silence of the ship. There was something more amiss within all of this, but if it took some cooperation to get to it, that might be the length that the DART squad goes to.
Duran seemed to eye the Herskals for a moment. They were new comers to the galactic stage, and the Union had little intelligence about them. They knew them of course, one didn't become a galactic major power without an intelligence agency capable of watching almost everything, the fact that the Herskal had fought Capitol had put them on the Unions contact list, but with ongoing matters of the war, Borealia and other things no actions had yet been undertaken.
"Escorts draw attention. As does broadcasting our true nature. I cant tell you any more than that"
His answer was short and to the point.
"What about them?" He then swiftly replied to Akiri, both machines turning their heads to her as if being addressed. They briefly seemed to twitch in response as the Federation marines decloaked, but as they lowered weapons and made peaceful gestures the combat machines merely went back to a passive stance.
"We can use our communications system on this ship, its short range but should cut through to them if the vessel, presumably a Prowler knowing our allies, is close by. I can provide you with a very brief overview of the ships structural integrity but I cannot compromise the secrecy of this vessel, you must understand this ship is crucial to ongoing Union efforts. What data I give you must be erased once this is complete" The last sentence was directed at the DART contingent.
Meanwhile the disk onloaded by Scylla was revealing its secrets. Already she could tell the coding and software was immensely heavy and advanced, it was Union but it had major distinctive differences, some of which looked very alien to the rest of the code architecture almost like it was taped on and badly meshed together. This disk seemed to be some kind of advanced targetting algorithm, if correct its reaction time would be immense and its networking capabilities with others of its kind would be flawless apparantly with a focus on highlighting and engaging targets giving off both gravimetric and psionic signatures. Was this some kind of new Union hardware to fight the Army of the Panopticon?
Duran nodded to one of the drones next to him that seemed to relay information somewhere else on the ship.
"We are contacting the Carnaithian vessel now, the relevant data is also being sent" a ping data packet for the CES was also recieved. The ships overall layout being very different to that of standard Union vessels.
Akiri flicks her tail again and her handmaidens sigh, putting the rifles onto passive discharge for a little bit, they holster them and peer over the boxes to watch her curiously.
Akiri: "Well i was curious, because my understanding is Union dont use droids? by my grasp of this galaxys politics is rather fleeting. Which leave to my brother." She crosses her arms waiting for others to pipe in replys. "Though, i'll go with what the others decide to do."
The Verkroans quietly murmur to themselves. There was logic, perhaps, though they were no experts on the field; they were merely a salvage crew. They also had no experience to make heads nor tails of the ship's design, if the other members of the party decided to be so kind as to show their Herskalite comrades the data.
However, a cursory read through their pocket-dossiers, provided to salvage crews to get an idea of what to expect on the vessels they encountered. It was by no means comprehensive whatsoever, made purely by hours of scouring whatever sources the Ministry of Defense could scrounge off the AncNet and a lot of postulation. The fact that Union and Capitol were decidedly not allies put them at ease, somewhat, but this whole operation seemed somewhat suspicious to them.
"Very well," the Driller pipes up again, "we shall wait for our comrades. In the meanwhile, our tools are at your disposal." They take a somewhat less defensive stance behind the crate. They are certainly more relaxed, but still not comfortable enough with this whole situation to completely forego their cover.
" 'Das up to the boss up top but I s'pose that we don' want to step on nobody's toes 'round ere."
The team on board of the vessel eye eachother suspiciously, untrusting completely of Duran as of yet. Yet they carry on with their job, deep inside their hearts they knew that, were this situation as simple as it was presenting itself, then there would be no further trouble for them, at the very least. Perhaps worrying about galactical politics was above their paygrade.
Meanwhile, data was churned at the small flotilla that floated "above" the sunken ship, in realspace. Optical beams fired at showers of perfected crystallic beads outputted just the correct luminous patterns to determine the dylation of the object of study, through iteration, optimal grappling points were determined, seeking to damage the least of the ship, pulling it up the fastest from the depths, yet burning the least ammount of fuel from their own dredgers.
Special care was provided at this junction as to not offshore the data, lest a political crysis be created atop all of this.
“Sounds like a plan,” Toshiko replied to Duran, referencing his suggestion to use the communication device on the ship.
Toshiko felt a tinge of sourness in her expression as she realised that she and her little group would probably not be able to help much given that they didn’t carry any real heavy equipment. She had assumed if the damage to their drive was light, then the man would have fixed it already meaning that, it was either really bad, or completely broken.
Duran's stonewalling of the group's questions had given Toshiko little pause for thought. She figured that if she was in Duran's position, she would have probably said the same thing. There was however, one question she wanted Duran to answer.
“I’ll save the trouble of asking operational questions, captain, but I do have one,” toshiko said, pausing momentarily. “Other than ancerium, what exactly does this ship need to get out of the meridian?”
"We use drone forces where necessary, given that this operation is extremely covert the less to know about it the better for security" Duran flatl stated to Akiri.
"Other than Ancerium, a kickstart of our reactors should suffice to get the engines online. However while our power systems are fine our engines have been suffering intermittent issues, as have several other systems on board. If you are able to physically pull us out of the Meridian that would be most helpful"
A small beep made the Captain look at his wrist.
"It appears contact has been made with the Carnaithian Prowler, it does not have the power to drag us up by itself but it is standing by to help direct any grappling efforts by vessels in realspace. I trust you all came with adequate recovery capability yes?" Duran seemed to smile.
The hull of the Union vessel was remarkably intact, and had several key areas of flat hull perfect for magnetic grappling. The Prowler was ready to relay and guide the cables in to ensure perfect alignment, communications now relaying back and forth from the depths to the vessels arranged on the 'surface'.
Duran seemed to look at his wrist mounted display for a moment, his mouth moved but no words were spoken. He then turned back and smiled.
"We will get ready to bring the engines online once we are near the surface, recovery operations will hopefully be underway soon. If you would, I would like you to accompany me to a more secure part of the vessel, once we are on the surface it should be far safer to return to your own craft rather than risk the Meridian again"
Those vessels now beginning recovery operations would register a powerful FTL transmission, data heavy, being sent via the Prowler and the coms bouy, broadcast towards Union territory. It appeared Duran and the vessel in question was contacting home.
The Deep Meridian Recovery Vessel Lokranitz, one way or the other, received word of the need to begin recovery operations. She was, decidedly, a rather large vessel by Herskal standards, but still small by many metrics. She was, however, designed with the sole purpose of hauling as much out of the depths of the Meridian as possible.
She was also notable for not being attached to any of the Astronautica's battlegroups or merchant flotillas, and as such was commanded by a Lord who had no fleet, simply a ship. Lord Commander Ekrowik, or as she was referred to by those who had the unfortunate need to be plucked out of the Meridian by the Lokranitz within the Astronautica, "that tardy miracle", was by no means remarkable other than the sheer amount of bullshit she had to deal with, as her vessel was of keen interest to the Ministry of Technology and a vital asset to the fledgling Astronautica of the Ministry of Defense, often leading her to have an incredibly dense timetable- the time loitering in the void waiting on the engineering team was the closest thing the ship had to a break outside of the time it spends in the gantries to replenish its precious coat of Halostone.
With a sigh, Ekrowik turned to her helmsman.
"Take her under, steady as she goes. Conserve kolleronic plasma ballast."
Behind her, Head Naturalist Loruk Krantz was brimming with glee, much opposed to the tired and formal nature of Ekrowik. Loruk was quite interested to see this alien vessel herself- her notebook already filled with labeled sketches of the surrounding spacecraft, margins filled with her theories as to what the various greebles on the spacecraft actually did- and the chance to see an enigmatic, top-secret craft belonging to the Union was something she was quite excited for.
The FTL transmissions were intercepted by the Lokranitz, but they swiftly gave up any chance of attempting to decode the encryptions. It was, however, a cause for some concern. Ekrowik sighed, watching the depth dial readings as they became increasingly more concerning, contemplating what exactly they had gotten themselves into. The Lokranitz was now deep enough that they actually had a chance of reaching the engineering team over the Herksal’s comms.
Engineer Team, this is Lokranitz. Exercise caution. On Approach.
The order in which the encrypted- albeit poorly- transmission gave its advisory was perhaps a bit suspect, and the engineering team, reading the radio telegraph as it appeared on their screen, acknowledged this as a confirmation of their own suspicions. Caution, they shall take.
The driller would speak up.
“The Lokranitz is on its way. Its operational capacity is limited. It has never moved such a large ship before.”
The cutter was staring at the Captain. He hoped that the gold tinted visor would do enough to hide the intent at which he was staring at Duran. In hushed whispers, he confided with his kin in native tongue.
“The mouth moves, but no sounds. Are they truly a living being?”
The mapper replies.
“We’ve seen how advanced their technology is, and they do use droids. Do you think it possible?”
The driller cuts off the line of discussion, leaving the thoughts to linger in mind rather than in air.
“Hush, brothers. They may overhear. They may understand. Remember the teachings.”
The verkroans nodded in mutual understanding. The Ministry of Defense drilled it into their mind, time and time again. Never underestimate the xenos, for they have many years that the Herskals did not. The Herskal Astronautical Engineer Team thusly made their way over and slightly behind the main group, using the translator to speak to the rest of the boarders in broken galactic basic.
“We follow comrades-in-arms. If you follow, we follow.”
Akiri nods briefly "I was just curious, but least we had foresigth to bring an ancerium tanker with us. Its.. cheap mix, but will do. As a scientist, theres not much i can do unless its like a computer. But we'll follow the others guidence."
She had crossed her arms as the hand maidens had come over to stand near her and watch a bit quietly, making up their own minds about those involved and Duran infront of them. Akiri: "Like i said, my brother handles the poltics.. i handle the science and exploration and everythings a bit new here.. in this galaxy."
She looks to side breifly lost in thought before looking back at Duran Akiri: "Its a weird feeling.. beening back in the purple hell, that woke up adrift on with no way out."
Sylla read, and re read the disk which spun inside his tray. He stood, acting none the wiser, taking the time to verify the files. A psion himself, some of these terms, ideas were familiar - but that was just the surface skim which contextualized the vast complexity of the targeting algorithm which he read through.
He felt, with a tinge of certainty that this information was that the captain of this here vessel did not want to leave the confines of the ship - thus Scylla would act unassumingly.
His comrade tapped his shoulder.
“Hey, you’ve been looking a bit aloof - you’ve got book eyes.”
“Oh, don’t mind me. I’m just listening to what Duran says. See if there’s any signal to our vessel in realspace, then let me know if there’s any appreciable connection.”
The Void Corps marine nodded as he began to tune something on her wrist. Not dissimilar to a radio, except instead of electromagnetic, the weak but precise pulses were gravitic in nature - causing the air to wobble with a quiet hum as she started to tune it to the frequency set by the team above. There was an interesting contrast to be observed between Scylla and his trusted Void Corps. Despite his seniority and rank, he possessed the smallest frame - at least a good three quarter foot shorter than theirs - if anything it was a testament to the Void Corp’s bulk and magnitude.
Scylla, in the meantime, turned away for a moment looking at Duran inquisitively. There was much afoot, and as such Scylla felt his body almost contract like a spring. Despite not moving an inch externally, he was anticipating... something. Why’d his mouth move there? Is there something he didn’t want us to hear?. If Duran’s just acting like he doesn’t know I read that disk, then he’s leading us somewhere not so pretty. Or maybe he doesn’t know, and is just being thorough.
“Hey, captain duran? We’re pretty safe here for the moment - where’d you be taking us?”
The void corps team looked mildly surprised for a moment as Scylla asked the question - after all, Scylla visibly looked like they wanted to leave this inhuman space, complaints quietly being muttered via radio as they explored the vessel not fifteen minutes ago.
“Oh, I think I just got that connection with the Pleura- it’s weak, but! They’d be able to receive a request to assist in towing this vessel.” noted one of the Void Corps
"An Ancerium tanker is perfect, as for my silent words I do apologise it is the nature of the mission that I must keep the secrecy. It is a special sound cancelling system only works at very short ranges however." Duran commented to both the Herskals and Akiri. The Cylaurians hearing was indeed phenomenal.
"Now this way please, I am taking you to another hold this time actually designed for proper individual transport rather than standard cargo. It has proper furnishings and you shall be much more comfortable there"
As the Lokranitz descended the grapples attached to the hull of the vessel they were on, causing slight vibrations to run across the vessel. This was further compounded by additional deep grapples sent down by the Noviy vessel which would pull from the surface. Between the two ships and with the Prowler guiding them the ship rose, slowly at first but gradually faster as it neared the surface.
The drone soldiers stood to one side, letting the groups accompany Duran back through the bulkhead they had come. Just like where they had entered the ships hallways did not seem designed for actual living crew or at least a standard complement for how a ship operated. The drones marched behind them their weapons idle as Duran finally brought them to another compartment. It was smaller than the last one, and had several bare metal tables and chairs located around the room bolted to the floor. Lockers lined the room and basic wash and cooking facilities were present on one wall.
"Its not much but its certainly better than a cargo hold. We should be breaching the surface shortly then you may transfer back to your ships. I thank you for your assistance"
With the Union vessel now entering the shallows there was another communications burst, same encryption as the one that had been sent out. Duran stepped to one side to seemingly listen in silence before turning back to them and smiling.
The Prowler however, the Lokranitz and the other ships present now picked up two unknown contacts within the Meridian on an intercept course.
Ekrowik's gaze scoured the bridge, making sure all was going according to plan. By any metric, it was going swimmingly- except for the fact that her AST was now reporting two new contacts, unidentified in nature and on a most concerning approach. She sighs, looking to her comms officer.
"Hail the other ships assisting towing. Inform them that the Lokranitz will be taking precautionary maneuvers, and request whichever ship with the longest range communications suite to hail the vessels. Send word to the engineering team."
"As you command."
The helmsman looked back to his Lord Commander, holding his breath in apprehension as Ekrowik's fins fluttered with disgruntlement.
"We cannot afford to take any chances. Helmsman, emergency ballast. I want every ounce of buoyancy we can get."
"It shall be done, my liege."
There was two distinct clacks as the engine-order-telegraph clicked forwards once, then twice. A hefty level crashed back, and a buzzer moaned warning as the ship's kolleronic plasma reserves were being rapidly energized by a now overworked nuclear reactor.
The engineering team was, decidedly, somewhat cautious after realizing that Duran had not only heard, but understood them. They looked amongst themselves, and were decidedly much more wary of their actions. There was a lurch as the Lokranitz suddenly attempted to speed up their ascent with its violent increase in power output. A small string of paper was printed out from the radio carried by the Mapper.
There was a silent pause as the strip was passed around, with the engineers looking amongst themselves. They all took turns passing glances at the smiling captain. They felt unnerved; they were told to take caution, which meant that the Lokranitz had to have had some reason to be concerned, and now were informed of the employment of emergency ballast. The driller spoke with masked suspiscion.
"Did you summon those approaching vessels, captain? Their intercept course is of some concern."
“While we can’t help pull you out of the Meridian when we get to the surface, we have fuel to spare from our stocks. We also have spares aboard, but I can’t promise they’ll be compatible,” she said, her tone implying a hint of openness.
She nodded at Duran’s assurance that they would reach the surface soon, then turned to her men. It was almost surreal to her that it had been this easy and how lucky they were that someone had survived on board. “See if you can get a message back; tell them to expect us soon.”
One man gave her a light affirmative in response.
The words of the Herskal driller made her reconsider her thoughts. She heard the suspicion in the driller’s tone but kept it calm. She didn’t turn to face Duran, rationalising that she had misjudged the man the first time they had met, and that maybe these were friends of his. Regardless, Toshiko knew that it was best if she kept her guard up. She tried to look as unnasuming as posssible, but mentally tuned-in to hear where the conversation went.
Akira and her handmaidens would follow with the others also still wary at the strangeness of whats going on, Rico and Nara would exchange a brief glance when he stops to take a message.
Akiri: "Well, the ancerium we got isnt the best quality due to the shortages going round, but suppose you'll be fine with." Going through the hand motions as she talks, she press the button for the scanner of her braclet to be active on silent mod, just in case like shes holding her wrists breifly. Akiri: "Rico, Nara.. would you please.. send a message to the tanker to get ready." She smiles to her aids.
The exchange another glance and active a com, exchanging mumbles and talk in kokyrian before nodding back to Akiri with a smile. Nara: "Done~" Rico: "They said that getting ready."
What they really had said between messaging the tanker, was hint at their science ship to turn on its suite scanners and boost it to get as much information as possible of their surroundings, its crew concentrating on the recording and data stacks as the tanker crew ready themselves.
Akiri: "But as said.. we are new to this galaxy, have yet to make any impact or acquainted friends." She and her aids play along, still a bit skeptical as they are unfamilar with how odd this looks, it crosses her mind that he could of hacked it and hijacked the ship as a passing thought.
Ko'Kyrian sample: "Ni ni, shalo na.. ko shii."
There was a shudder as the vessel broke into realspace, the various systems and attachments proving very effective and pulling the stricken Union vessel out of the Meridian. The breach was quick, the entire ship bursting free in a display of light and radiation. Once free it was obvious that this was not a conventional Union design, already the situation got tense as some Ancerium was transferred over.
At last those on board were escorted off the ship, shown as little as possible through a route that seemed to take them in circles to disorientate them, but upon returning to the Meridian breaching shuttles they would be distributed back across to their various ships.
Several disturbances, akin to very brief FTL transits were detected nearby, but sensors picked up either background noise or minor readings. Concerns of stealth vessels abounded even as the Carnaithian Prowler analysed everything it could.
With a very brief curt message indicating its thanks, the vessel they had rescued activated a warp drive and sped away, followed by several other warp signatures from where the sensor ghosts had been. The Union didnt use an abundance of stealth ships.
The question then was what had they encountered?
All were lucky to be alive, the deep recovery had almost led them to discovering dark secrets of the Unions Reserve Administration.
The Meridian was a dangerous place, convenient but dangerous.
But it was also profitable if one knew where to look and how to exploit it.
Plenty of wrecks and ghost ships fell into the Meridian, a natural part of Ancerious and its strange laws of physics and some nations specialised in recovering such vessels, to plunder them or sell them on to other buyers.
Some vessels which fell into the Meridian though, were another matter entirely, extremely important targets or vessels lost which must be recovered at all costs.
Within the boundaries of the deep, one such vessel existed that needed immediate investigation, its name was the Verdant Knight identified as a Union of Worlds Nova Class Carrier. 4km in length its distress call was subtle but known to those who had worked alongside the Union before, it was calling for aid, but something didn’t add up, something which the Carnaithian Prowler which kept near it knew all too well.
This wasn’t the Verdant Knight it couldn’t be. The Knight had been destroyed as part of joint taskforce 4 of the Union 3rd fleet at the Battle of Aedleshaven 3 months ago. It hadn’t been reduced to a wreck, it had been utterly cored by CONA super impactor torpedoes and detonated with all hands lost. So why then did it use the ident of the vessel?
It was one question of many, the second being it did not have the profile of a Nova Class either, rather one of the new Horizon fleet Dart class cruisers. Why would the Union forge one of their own distress beacons? They were an open people, quick to help others, surely, they would want anyone who helped them to know the details, unless they didn’t want help from anyone else. Something was wrong within the Union, and Carnaith knew this.
This vessel, it was a potential key, a treasure trove to find out exactly what, or who, was at play behind the scenes. But they didn’t have long, the vessel was sinking into the deeps, where corrosion would soon eat away at its hull and internals. They had to move fast, but if Carnaith was discovered and those aboard knew that the Empire had information on whatever secret sect was acting things could escalate out of all proportion.
So a message buoy was primed, sent back across into real space with a simple contract.
It asked for assistance in boarding, retrieving information and possibly pulling the ship out of the Meridian. Nations and small groups alike would be welcomed, to work secretly on behalf of Carnaith and to get the job done, it was dangerous but there were good pay incentives and lucrative further potential contracts with the Empire to be made if they succeeded.
Meet at the rendezvous point, by the buoy in deep space, and await pick up by Carnaith, that was the instructions.
The buoys call echoed through the meridian, passing into redspace, where Novish sattelites quickly picked up on it's message, and thus the call for assistance was very well recieved.
Deciding on what to respond with, and who will carry that responsibility quickly became a lively debate. The Novish navy would be the ones to answer the call, however the question of who and how remained. The High Admirals of the five fleets would convene at the Bronze Palace on Niveneh-5. At the black marble table, the five Admirals sat, facing one another with a display showing the message, location, and all known available data being displayed on a screen projected onto the surface of the table.
Early into the discussion, the fifth fleet was disqualified, due to their ongoing modernization, and a lack of expertise in deeper meridian dives. Then, the first fleet was disqualified, as they themselves seldom made risky or dangerous maneuvers in the meridian.
It came down between the second through fourth fleets to take on this mission, and after some negotiation, the third fleet was selected. Of all five fleets, they had the greatest expertise in deep meridian dives, being the only fleet to do so regularly for research purposes.
¦===<>===¦
Quick preparations were made, as the mantle of responsibility fell on the shoulders of the third fleet. It was decided that only one ship was necessary to meet the criteria of this mission. A pleura-class was modified, all but one weapon hardpoint being replaced by large tanks filled to the brim with ancerium melange, and three of four missile storage spaces being replaced with stores of food, water, ameneties, as well as terminals for a massively upgraded sensor suite, antennae and dishes affixed upon the hull like receptors to the envelope of a virus
The sleek hull of the Pleura was now decorated with practical ornaments, yet retaining just one of the rotary missile launchers, promising retaliation should the mission be threatened.
Aboard the Pleura is a team led by Scylla Perfuro, a redeemer quickly gaining recognition among the ranks for not only being an incredibly potent psion, but also a prolific author. The voyage would be a long one, however this being one of the furthest reaching missions Noviy has ever conducted, Scylla had his spirits high.
The Pleura approached, making transmissions to Carnaith about their arrival
Ghost ships were a tale as old as time. From pre-hyper Old Earth to the first voyages across the stars, ghost ships were legendary amongst ship crews. Most often, they were clerical errors or just tall tales made up by over imaginative spacers to scare junior recruits, and as the juniors turned veterans themselves, the cycle repeated until those ships became part of navy culture.
Today, however, was a different story.
Something was different about this one, the first and most obvious was that this ghost ship was real. The second difference, was it smelt awfully like a black-ops operation. A mysterious ship turns up out of nowhere months after one of the largest battles the galaxy has ever seen?
Classic.
The Feds had taken quite an interest in Carnaith’s cause, not just because of the promised rewards that the buoy message had contained. Material things were material afterall, those could be replaced. But intelligence? That was irreplaceable, and a nation owing them a favour or two was never a bad thing. So, here they were, a single destroyer. The ship in question was one of the Federation’s newest Tiger-class heavy destroyers. She carried with her only her standard marine compliment. Towing Verdant Knight would have been one hell of an undertaking, and well, they didn’t really believe they could bring a ship of that size out of the Meridian without it blowing up, or them blowing up. Therefore, the Feds had decided that it was best for someone else to try.
“IFF Handshake complete captain; buoy is on our scopes.”
“Acknowledged,” Natsumi said. “Keep on the scope, and please Mae, let’s try not to lock up any newcomers this time?”
“Yes captain,” Mae said sheepishly.
The Federation destroyer began to accelerate slowly, her drives operating well below combat limits or what one would expect of a fully powered antimatter torch. The ship sailed on a trail of hard radiation, very slowly making its way to the Carnaith rendezvous point. They had their weapons powered down, and barely had any sort of defensive measures up. It was -hopefully- clear that she meant no hostile intent.
Floating out in the dark of Bales Fallen, the message been broadcast would get picked up by the Comms relay among other things like stray intercepts and advertisements of galaxy. It would be flagged and sent to Oracles offices on New Kyria after some translation, Aeon called his sister in between the mounting paperwork of managing a new colony
Aeon: "So.. what you make of this sister?"
She stares at the screen and shrugs briefly. Akari: "Sounds like time to go meet someone and maybe get some idea what that purple hell was. I'll go prep the new science ship."
She waves a hand as walks out, her brother barking an reply. Aeon: "Take a fuel tanker with you! dont want have to come and pick you up myself." She rolls her eyes and keeps walking. He sighs and picking up a coffee mug, sips it before getting back to paper work.
Aeon: "Dont like idea of aliens.. but have to take a risk sometimes."
---
Much, much, later while in transit Akari would be sitting at the science console as the two ships made their way to the location of the beacon, stareing at the screen from the camera's daydreaming. It would be interrupted however, by the Navi officer pulling them into the system edge out of transit.
Navi officer: "Arrived at the system location, Balefire systems are ready to go when needed.. switching to subfusion to approach the beacon. Tanker is following behind us."
She nods watching with a tense sigh and adjusts her headset to see if translator is working. Akari: "Guess we roll up and see if get out hands bitten off or a welcome shake"
Been new comers to the galaxy, they were not sure of intentions. But charity is charity after all. The Ko'Kyrian ships would make way over to the beacon.
A final ship left the telescoping construction hangars characteristic of the CES methods of ship production, this ship, unlike the vast majority, was anything but CES design in origin, instead, it looked like a cobbled creation of an older hull, interspaced with clear large modular pieces jutting out of the hulls, mounting a variety of weaponry characteristic to the faction in varying degrees, almost as if their philosophy of modularity was a disease that infected the vessels.
The Derelict Asset Repossession Task, or DART for short, was merely a blurb in not-so-recent news, whose coverage died down soon after. The ships, nigh-extraoficial in nature, were the perfect type of low-risk asset to undertake missions the public would not be too keen on, although the fleet itself took little to no effort in cloaking itself, it was composed of easily-deniable vessels.
The timing thus, was perfect. When the message reached the board of Expedites, its maiden voyage was decided. Although the vast majority of the fleet would still be stationed and on hold, a detachment of three Meridian Divers and five escort ships, all Selenican and Dominion in origin retrofitted and adapted to function with CES equipment, left one of the CES satellite dockyards and took the travel to the location of the sunken vessel.
—----------
Lahrn prepared, mentally and physically, as she looked onward at the large vat that stood obliquely off the ground. It had been a few months since she was deployed to the resounding success she had within Far Reach, the acquisition of the egg was highly praised, and the low casualties, even against such a large foe, was mainly attributed, after a certain amount of political back-and-forth, to her, or more importantly, to the Panoptes system, of which she was the best user.
Soon afterwards, funding poured into the project even more, only heightened recently with rumours of full IPD integration. This all resulted finally, in a more comfortable suit, a sleeker vat, and a little less migraines.
She exhaled, the room was cold, behind her a large screen projected the general tactical overview of the fleet as it cruised in FTL, spacetime distorted all around them. She stepped into the vat to get used to the colder temperature, the amniotic-like fluid wrapped around her body with consistency thick as oil, she sat upright as the vessels snapped into realspace from their bubble, and the soft whirr of the STL engines could be heard.
The beacon made itself evident in a moment, the ships set a vector towards it, and calmly threaded their way to the meeting point.
The Herskal Directorate was always cautious about the civilizations that existed beyond their own system. They knew of their existence, and did not doubt the were known, but they were not keen on venturing beyon their borders- until a message bouy was painstakingly translated, revealing the potential for great salvage. By all accounts, it ould be a great boon for the Herskalites; they were of course unsure where allegiances lie in the great void, but they knew that assisting in a salvage operation would both improve their interstellar raport and provide a rare opportunity to procure foreign hardware without having to pay in full for it.
To answer the beckons the Lokranitz, the lead ship and only ship of the Lokranitz-class Deep Meridian Reserch Vessel, was reactivated. This itself was a laborious task; the massive mechanical computer had to be cleaned, its fusion reactor coaxed back into operation, and the hull patched up to repair micrometeorite damage and erosion sustained during its brief dives into the Meridian. Then the course had to be carefully plotted, which was easier said than done for the Herskalites, and at last the bulky, cumbersom form of the Lokranitz began to slowly press onwards to stars unkown.
---------------
Head Naturalist Loruk Krantz hated delays above all else. Time was fleeting, and every passing second the Lokranitz wasn't actively on sight was another second lost to the errosion of the depths. Unfortunately for her, the Lokranitz's initial meridian course was off by mere fractions of a degree, resulting them exiting in the wrong star system. After a "quick" gravity assist an some orbital maneuvers, they would finally be arriving at the designated rendevouz. The ship would initally overshoot the beacon and atempt to decelerate, its poor poor manueverability making it seem more as if an asteroid had a battery of bottle rockets haphazardly stuck to it. Besides being the last group to arrive, it was evident that they would take some time to slow down, a slight issue made worse by their rather crude and primitive radio capabilitites being lackluster and insufficient for intership communications, if not outright incompatable. It would seem Loruk was doomed to bear such delays as the minutes begaun to drag on into hours of slo retrograde burns.
The call of the buoy, whilst not unsimilar to many that had echoed and bounced into La Republica's territory had one differentiating factor between it and these prior messages. This one, for the first time in its history, was not ignored by La Republica de Barcialo. The satelites picked it up, relaying the message to those who could actually read it.
A call for help, it would seem. A strange mission into a place only known as "The Meridian." Such a place was..unknown to the people of La Republica, but then again, so was the rest of the galaxy. There was only one way to find out where and what this place was, and that way was to assist whoever sent this message.
There were coordinates inside, detailing a rendevous point where whoever would be sent to help would be picked up by..someone that appears to be of another nation. Surely a new way to interact with nations beyond their borders.
Decisions were hastily yet meticulously made, with the final decision that a Battlecarrier Task-Force would be the most fit for something like this. The main ship of this task force, the Forza-Class Battlecarrier would likely be doing most of the heavy lifting, carrying a boarding party that consisted of Amfibies (Amphibious Forces). The escorts, consisting of a lighter cruiser and two frigates, would be at its wings at all time.
As this was no combat mission, there would only be half of the air-wing present aboard the carrier, the space they took up now being used for supplies. Speaking of supplies, there will be two supply ships docked against the single battecarrier for the duration of this mission.
Decisions were finally made, and with the task-force finally equipped and ready for the journey ahead of them, the ships lead by the Forza-Class battlecarrier Illumino were sent off toward a prepared Alcubierre Rifle that was aimed toward their target. All ships huddled within the reaches of the Alcubierre Rifle, but they kept their distance. The journey itself carried no illfeeling for the crew, but instead it was this so-called "Meridian" that made them nervous. They did not fully realize that they were making history on that day.
With a bright flash of light from the "Rifle", the task-force was sent off at FTL speeds toward the rendevous point. It may have been a while for them to arrive, but for the tensed crew it only felt like minutes. As they got out of FTL speeds, the task-force apporached the rendevous point, the weaponry that the ships carried ceremoniously aimed high as a sign of "peace". Sensors aboard the ships lit up, showing the crew that they were indeed not alone here, and that there were many who heeded the call of the buoy. Hopefully, this would all go well.
The buoy was clear, of course. The contact wasn't. Not yet, at least.
Its appearance was sudden, a massive signature on normal signatures quickly appearing within fifty kilometers of the assembled arrivals. It looked armed - but it wasn't lazing or spiking. Navigation-wave scans began to be detected from the kilometer-long vessel, but nothing more. Its surface turned from invisible, to mirrorlike - clearly a meridian-breaching vessel - to stark black as the anticorrosive smartfluid returned to its holding bays.
"We both know why you're all here," a tight-beamed message announced to the collection of craft. "Unfortunately, some of you seem to have come underprepared. Others, overprepared. Please prepare shuttles with away crews. We will meet aboard this ship."
"Transmission received.”
The shuttle was away. The Federation shuttle was a winged craft, clearly meant for both atmospheric and exoatmospheric operations. She was unpainted, and the dull grey of her hull denoted that this was a military vessel. Save for the eight-man marine team that the shuttle carried, her cargo bay was empty. There were no concealed weapons, no bombs, no missiles save for the marine’s equipment, and the few drones that were standard equipment.
Marine sergeant Toshiko stood on the metallic deck of the craft. It was roomy, for once. These shuttles often carried double the amount of people they did now, and it was often much like a crammed canned goods canister inside one of these things.
The journey the shuttle was undertaking was not particularly far, and it would only be a few minutes before they arrived at the Carnaith vessel and were greeted by their “employer.” Toshiko had only been briefed briefly on who Carnaith was, she knew they were not human, and she didn’t care if they were or weren’t. That wasn’t her concern. She was more concerned about what they would actually find aboard Verdant Knight. She didn’t exactly expect an army of eldritch horrors, but that didn’t mean that they should let their guard down either.
“Touchdown in three,” the pilot said.
Toshiko nodded.
“I assume that we’re all ready then?” Toshiko asked. “Remember, we’re here to make a good impression on these people.”
“Yes, Sergeant!” came the unified response
A smile crept across her lips, “Well, let’s see to it then.”
The Federation shuttle touched down softly on the Carnaith vessel’s hangar bay, and with it, off went the marines.
The Ko'Kyrian ships would wait until the owners of the beacon turn up, keeping to the fleet coms between science ship and tanker. Akari would watch as ships floated by the beacon on the screen.
Comms Officer: "Message recevied, requesting shuttle docking for team... Yoki" He pauses and then looks at Akari giving a thumbs up. She knows and goes to collect the gear with her handmaidens before heading to the shuttle.
Its curved white hull and orange panelled wings, would leave the hanger of the science ship and makes it way over to the Carnaith ship, flying into the hanger and landing after some minutes. Three Ko'kyrian would step off the shuttles ramp in flowing white robes, mixed with armour, shard rifles slung on their backs with safety on.
Akari: "Well.. this is a first, she sighs softly and looks about wondering what a Carnaith is before spotting some of the others, fellow humans was a bit unexpected.. and they were different? round none fur ears and no tail? Even eyes different." Her attention staring was broken by one her handmaidens poking the arm and asking if brought everything, which she nodded and waits.
Akari: "Yes.. yes.. i brought all gear in the shuttle. Not keen on the purple hell dive though.. but as needs must." Somewhat still distracted by all new sights and sounds.
The transmission from the kilometer-long vessel managed to make its way into the headset of the communications officer aboard the Illumino, and the message was relayed throughout the RDB task force. It is to be believed that the battlecarrier and its escorts would not be needed, much to their disappointment (and slight relief). Instead, a shuttle would go in their stead.
"Confirmed," responded the comms officer, who made sure to alert the shuttle crews.
From the hangars within the carrier, a shuttle exited and began its journey to the Carnaith vessel. Inside the shuttle was 14 crewmembers, 2 of which are pilots and 14 of them being Amfibies. This was no combat mission, so the shuttle was hardly armed and the soldiers carried only regular equipment. There was, however, some utility equipment stored within the ship. Just in case, of course.
As the small vessel flew toward the Carnaith vessel, the crew within had a slight sense of nervousness as this was uncharted grounds for all of them. They only had the slightest of briefings beforehand, so they only knew a little about their employers. The fact that they were going to some "void between dimensions" seemed to bother them more.
Eventually, the shuttle landed, and the Amfibies poured out of their vessel one by one, standing in a row outside their shuttle. Some of the soldiers carried their equipment on their backs before setting it on the ground before them. Amongst them was their squad leader, who stood in front of them, ready to introduce the squadron to the others within this hangar, should something like that occur.
The DART flotilla, vagarously drifting towards the beacon, slowly ground to a halt in response to the reveal of the large vessel and the message sent out. The forces of the flotilla fanned out, though not numerous, they protected a central vessel and the three meridian-equipped vessels which shimmered from their unique plating in comparison.
The original plan was a simple and direct dredging of the vessel from the meridian, however, with the opportunity to test their salvage crew within a particularly unique environment, a small vessel detached from the main leading ship, an iconically cheap modular transport, and made its way towards the large vessel which beckoned it.
“A salvage team is headed, we will board the vessel to locate optimal points of anchoring for dredging.” - The message rung out, not produced by fingertips but manifested tangentially by the half-dreaming mind of Lahrn, though the majority of her functions ended now, and she could do not much more than relay orders and watch from realspace.
—--
Meanwhile, the vessel burnt its pink trail of a way towards the ship, it was like a thick hexagon, extruded upon one end to fit smaller hexagons within the mid section, sporting a sizeable hangar for what felt like the equivalent of a spaceborne IFV, and what was a cheaper version of an already cheap utilitarian vessel.
Within it a team of 3 personnel, a commander, a field medic and a field technician, but also three medium autonomous drones, roughly the size of a common mus’vanus and designed as such too, but in a body of highly efficient materials and synthetic muscles, an initial bid for the creation of an automatic army, with a simple inception.
The Lokranitz would slowly adjust its trajectory after a series of retrograde burns to fall into position with the buoy. The hundred meter large research vessel was dwarfed by the meridian-breaching vessel, with the optical sensors aboard the Lokranitz scouring the nearby ships as the researchers speculated at the purposes at the technology they did not comprehend.
When they recieved the transmission, it would be a few moments before they could actually figure out what the devil it said, the analogue computers slowly translating the signal into text, text in a language that would be- for lack of better words- alien to the Verkroans crewing the ship. They saw there was some buzz going about, but the ship would lay silent until at last they made heads or tails of the situation and realized they needed to send a shuttle. A shuttle which they decidedly do not have. Some of the text was lost in transmission, but they were able to make out prepared and a general sense of dissapointment.
After another minute of whiring gears and spinning discs, they at last were able to transmit their reply. The transmission would be weak at best, slow, and a little choppy, and it would be clear by the aerial wire now trailing out of the ship that it would most definitely not be a tight-beamed transmission- if that even mattered with how short range the signal would have been.
Acknowledged. Issue: Lacks shuttle. Requesting assistance.
While they prayed to see if their transmission would even be acknowledged, the crew would be preparing for the breach, for they believed their lack of readiness for the breach was the cause of dissapointment. Heavy mechanical shutters would slide into position over vission ports, leaving only observation slits, while the radiator ports along the side of the vessel began to close as the reactor slowly reduced power to just the bare minimum required for meridian breaching.
Despite not being designated as such - the Pleura would be just about small enough to pass and act as a shuttle.
Shuttle-sized that it may be, it's external fuel tanks and radar spikes made it look more like a porcupine than the sleek interceptor that the ship used to be. Despite this, it would slow down it's approach by turning around and burning retrograde until a comfortable speed was reached, moving in for docking procedures.
The shuttle would extend magnetic landing legs, smoothly landing in the Carnathian ships hangar bays. A team of five would remain in the shuttle, completing reports as well as organizing communications, sending Naval Command a message:
Landing on Carnathian vessel successful. Void Corps leaving Pleura.
The remaining five would exit the vessel through a hatch, landing with some weight upon the hangar bay floor.
Unlike their standard naval infantry counterpart (colloquially called Snee's), the Void Corps were somewhat bulkier, with a compact RCS system and a more significant oxygen supply - trained to operate in 0-G environments. Secured at the hip was the Void Corp's weapon of choice, a BR-73 Carbine.
Their armor a gunmetal grey color, they were led forth by Scylla, who's helmet was crimson on one side, sporting a much more lightweight-looking set of armor, lacking much of the external equipment that Corps had. They would meet the rest of the deep recovery crew on the Carnathian vessel, Scylla giving them a brisk wrist-wave.
The hangar of the CIGO ship, once the assembled factions got to it, was low-ceilinged and occupied by a variety of covered craft - it would seem that under the tarpaulins there were atmospheric transports, snubcraft, dropships, and more packed tightly into racks along the walls. Imperial void arms troops, familiar enough to anyone who had used the ANCnet yet - though camouflaged in adaptive, confusing patterns - stood guard around a decrepit, weak-looking Carnaithian wearing a rebreather whose contents were clearly an orange fluid.
"Welcome to my ship," he greeted the assembled force commanders. "With any luck this is the last prowler you'll ever see the interior of. It's seen battles with Eosians and CONA, though I'll never tell you where..." He trailed off, waving skeletal hands with vicious looking claws.
"Unfortunately, one of your compatriots has decided they wouldn't need a shuttle at any point, nor any semblance of modern equipment. If any of you can be a good sport and retrieve their away party, we can depart immediately." Without a word, one of the marines to the CIGO spook's side approached the assembled group before speaking up.
"Past those doors and to the left is the auxiliary storage area. We've modified it for berthing you and your equipment."
Akari sighs and nods, turning and pulling her aids to the landed shuttle. Akari: "Well be back! hope they got a bay.. airlock or.. suits at least."
The Ko'kyrian shuttle would then take off after backing out slowly and make its way to the Lokranitz getting fair close before transmitting a message. Pilot: "How are we going to do this? airlock, bay or pickup?"
They would wait for a reply before proceeding with the picked option the Loranitz would like, the scans would show no bay.. an airlock yes.
The Lokranitz would decidedly take a moment to respond as they eventually figured out the transmission. Maneuvering thrusters burst into life as they very carefully rotated the craft to show the port docking hatch, the bugled out slab of armored steel that protecting it having slid out of the way. Clamps, designed to interface with other Herskal ships, protruded with a thin walled tube meant to enable passage between two ships.
Acknowledged. Port docking hatch unlocked. Compatibility unknown.
The ship made no further adjustments, sitting there in the void. They couldn't even attempt to make a precision maneuver if they wanted to, with how low their thrust to weight ratio was, and thus it would be up to the shuttle to try and stay aligned long enough to dock- if that was at all possible.
The cheap ship pulls up to the CIGO ship and docks, from within the murky interior comes out the ship. The commander of the mission extinguishes the embers of a cheap cigarette upon the chest plate of a rather simplistic armor adapted to be bulkier and more resilient to the harsh environments of the meridian and other hazardous environments.
"Get a move on ya tincan" He slaps the shoulder of the testing combat drone, the being barely nudges, but threads onwards accompanying the small group. Non-chalantly, the group watched the commander give his words, the own squad lead nodded comprehensively.
"Pleased to make acquaintence commander. I'll be leading my team to determine the structural integrity of the ship and see to pullin' it up outta the depths. We'll see how it'll go, but we'll of course also help in the exploration." He did a small salute, stopped by a couple of hecking coughs, before with a few motions of the hand the skeletal-muscular drones moved inwards into the auxiliary storage area, whilst the three lizards awaited for the others to arrive.
“I appreciate the hospitality, commander,” Toshiko said firmly. “If you don’t mind, however, me and my marines will be retiring for the day to run final checks on our equipment.”
She paused for a moment before doing anything out of respect for the captain. This was, afterall, his ship, and to be a rude guest on another captain’s ship only reflected poorly on yourself. She signalled to the marines, and a small box labelled AMMUNITION was brought down from the gunship, escorted by a dozen or so drones. The box was small, and if anyone had bothered to look inside, they would see it was nothing more than spare magazines and other small-calibre ammunition.
As the marines depart, they pay little real attention to the rest of the participants gathered. Often just giving them cursory glances and a slight nod to the rest of the group as they hauled themselves and their ammunition box out of sight.
The five men of Noviy would approach the commander, Scylla stepping forward and greeting him.
"Greetings, this is the Novish contribution to the deep recovery effort.."
Scylla would motion to both his sides, left then right ".. and these are out men"
The void corps would give a simultaneous nod, each giving their name and designation
"We thank you for your hospitality aboard your ship. We will be in the auxiliary room doing equipment inspections as well as making acquaintance with the rest of the deep recovery effort"
The five would turn and make their way single file into the auxiliary room, making their way to a seating area where they begin to take off their equipment, making sure their gear was up to standard. They would then proceed to make small talk with any other being in the room, shaking off the groggy feeling one gets after a long commute
It took a while but with the Herskal contingent finally aboard the assembled groups were fully ready.
Berthing in the auxiliary storage area was tight, not a great deal of room individually for soldiers or team members existed, some lockers, makeshift beds and various racks and boxes were provided, it was not much but given the very design and use of this ship it was the best they could afford.
Shortly after the Herskal had come on board, the Prowler had dived back into the Meridian. Given the depth of the target it would take several hours before they reached it, and the commander provided a briefing for all on board to attend back inside the hangar, at least it had space, and the Carnaithians were not overly fond of showing the other factions the extent of the Prowlers interior.
A small holoprojector had been deployed, showing the initial scans of the target. For those who knew, like the CES, they were well aware it did not look like a Nova Class Carrier, but it did look Union.
"Listen carefully. This is your target, supposedly the Verdant Knight going off its distress IFF. I can tell you now it isnt, I have fought with the Union plenty, this is not a Nova Class, this is something distinctly different. The plan is to get you in close, deploy you over to the target via a specially shielded dropship and to then explore the target. We want full control over engineering, bridge and AI systems along with full file maps and downloads of everything on board. Record everything, identify its craftsmanship, its design and what happened to it. If all goes smoothly, we will then anchor it and drag it out of the Meridian."
"Do you have any questions before we begin this operation?"
The relief was clear on Toshiko’s face. When they had been called out to the hangar for the mission briefing, she was one of the first ones out of the cramped storage closet they called a waiting room. Neither she nor any of her marines had used the beds as their intended purpose save as a makeshift bench. They did as she said they would, doing final weapon checks and making sure that their gear functioned as advertised. A jam or malfunction now would be beyond embarrassing, especially as she knew that to both Carnaith and the other participants that this was their first impression of the Federation Marine Corp.
She placed her rifle on her back, magnetic seals taking care of the rest. The thing looked like two rectangles stacked vertically, one large rectangle being the barrel assembly and a smaller one resting above it that was the optic. Off her right shoulder and of her marines trails several miniature drones. Like a cross between a soccer ball and a flying saucer, they were miniature drones that fed images back to the HUDs of the Marines, perfect for peeking around corners.
Her bony fingers were wrapped in metal- vacuum-sealed power armour. Nonetheless, she keyed her comlog with some grace, having it transcribe and take down the important parts of whatever the commander had to say. She waited patiently until the commander finished her briefing; she didn’t actually have to listen to any of it, given that her comm log was recording. She did anyway. It was courtesy, at the very least.
“Right” -she cocked her head- “any ideas of what we’re gonna encounter when we get aboard? Automated defences, angry crew members, monsters even?”
She said the last line sarcastically. The glare received from the rest of the marines, and a sinking feeling had told her that neither they nor the commander appreciated the joke.
The Ko'kyrians would sit in the hanger on some empty boxes checking the gear and rebreathers after beening dropped off. Keeping to themselves Akira and her handmaidens would chatter and look about now and then not leaving their spot until, the meeting when called.
Akira would listern with her team.. picking a back seats and flick her ears as she made notes on a holopad mumbling how she disliked "The purple hell." Briefly glancing at humans comments but saying nothing past tapping away on the holopad as organises info. The white and gold robes mixed with armour would be sorted so void encased tigth suit.. more elegant and easy on eyes compared to heavy suits.
Akari: "More of concern than question, hopefully this tomb can stay afloat like the last." She links up the braclet's of her team gliding a mana infused hand over with a small circle appearing briefly. "But, i defer to your lead on this and my team is ready."
The commander eyed the scan profusely, and pulled up a small device of his own creation. He uploaded, if allowed, the scan data into the device, which immediatly communicated back towards the general systems at play and the coordinating ship overhead, quietly they scanned vast databases for matches for the origin of the vessel, though more data was always necessary.
He then convened with the two other members of the small team, and replied to the commander's debriefing: "We'll be takin' engineering, if we can find it. I've got our systems running checks to find the origin of the vessel, but I can't guarantee nothin'. We'll structurally analyse the vessel and determine if dredgin' it is possible at all."
Scylla and his team walked over to a quiet corner of the auxillary room, claiming a modest space as the five of them sat in a circle, their gear laid down carefully behind them, ensuring a cleared space within their arrangement. From a distance, the sight was striking—a quartet of bulky Void Corps operatives sitting in a circle with a crimson clad Scylla, who placed a small beige bag in front of him, covered top to bottom in inscriptions and Novenist iconography.
With measured precision, Scylla takes out what looked like a stick of red chalk wrapped in thin paper, examining it. Taking off a small golden sticker enscribed with a nonagon, he unwraps it and meticulously begins drawing a sygil on the floor. The Void Corps personnel observed in silence, their gaze unwavering, fixated on the unfolding pattern
Within the space delineated by Scylla's skilled hand, a nonagon began to materialize. Each vertex interlaced seamlessly with its neighbors, forming a web-like structure, unifying the nonagon's geometric composition.
He begins to recant a passage, carefully articulating each word with care and precision as the void corps maintained their gaze on the shape before them:
And as the acrid Balrog corpse smoulders just like it began
Its crimson-orange light melts into the setting sun
And leaving us, not without a final clap of light
The Lightning Lord escapes as day fades into moonless night
The chalk on the floor glows a dim red before seemingly dissipating into the surrounding air - like small embers rising and fizzling out in the air - until the chalk has vanished.
Finally, the five stood up, and would make light banter that reverberated within the chamber, waiting for the deployment - their tone switched from somber to upbeat. With a hearty thumbs up from one of the operatives indicates the novish team's rediness to proceed.
Decompression Sickness — 23/05/2023 01:58
The Verkroans, who finally were onboard, quietly chatted amongst themselves as the four of them- with some tedium- translated the ongoing conversation, extrapolating and filling in the gaps where their technology failed. They wore pressure suits, and were meticulously taking notes about everything around them, on pen and paper no less.
They shifted around uncomfortably, the magics around them being unkown and unatural, the armed presence leaving them feeling vulnerable. They slowly waddled their longer, quadrupedal frames over and curled up the best they could to make the most room out of their tight situation, one of the engineers pulling a primitve comunication set off the back of the other, breefly tapping a short message confirming the fact they were safely aboard and on their way to the mission area, and that it was unlikely that the Lokranitz would be employed to aid in salvage; the xenos technology was far more advanced than first thought, and the presence of magic would only seem to confirm this.
Recognizing the fact the others were making their final preparations, the Herskal engineers would make their own efforts. Each had a different tool affixed to a hydraulic spring loaded arm, which simply made their tool easier to handle. One carefully peeled the wax off of a circular saw, another removed a protective cover from a radar mapping tool, another carefully turned on the supply of pressurized oxygen to their thermal lance, and the last engineer inserted a long and heavy bit into their drill, squeezing a bulb on it to pump in fresh oil. After they completed their final checks, the one with the thermal lance started clacking away at a bulky computer on the side of the driller, and after a short while of whiring gears, the electromechanical computer whirred out a basic translation, printed onto a long sheet of paper which the lancer handed off to the cutter, who held up for the commander to read.
Team prepared to clear potential obstacles.
"There is the possibility of automated defences" The Captain looked at Toshiko "The Union is known to deploy automated turrets and high intensity gravity traps along chokepoints and other easily defendable positions. On a normal Nova Class I could list you to precise location of each, but this isn't that class, we don't even know if its fully Union. For all we know there could be crewman aboard who may engage you."
"As for the ship staying afloat, it, and therefor, us, are currently sinking. The quicker you get over there, get the information and get out the quicker we can all go home." The reply to Akari was straight forward. He merely nodded to the CES commander, the gesture appreciative on the prospect of pulling it back out of the Meridian entirely.
"If that is all, we will begin operation. Make your way aboard the two shuttle craft and prepare yourselves"
The order was given, and the cramped confines were sadly replaced with even more cramped shuttles. They were not large, and with how many were fitting into them it felt like being cramped into a sardine can, in some cases soldiers were not even able to move because the teams were packed in so tight. They had no choice, the shuttles were coated in the chromatic reflective Halostone, to use conventional shuttles at this depth would be to invite a horrific death. As the doors sealed shut the darkness inside the shuttles was replaced with a low intensity red light which made it just as hard to see.
"Good luck" The Carnaithians voice came over the intercom as the shuttles lurched forwards and out into the Meridian proper.
The shuttles hull creaked and moaned as the depths tried to take their due, but they held as they crossed the short distance and latched onto the targets hull. Specially designed breaching charges ringing the main exit ramps that had flush fit now detonated, blowing a hull from which the ramps descended, the teams were free to move in, the molten metal that surrounded them rapidly cooling.
The ships interior was dark, gravity and power were off and dust floated in the air. Having breached next to one another the teams could group up in the corridor they found themselves and decide where to head.
Akiri nods after the clear answer and smiles gently. "That is fine, we are ready for the operation" She and her handmaidens give a bow and then make their way to the shuttle bay waiting until they can board.
They would pick seats closet to the door, the main concerns was getting inside the sinking derelict and helping the others. Rather than cramped inside of the ship cramped shuttle she moans words as looks at the locked metal door. low: "Back to the purple hell we go, a tomb to search and dead eyes to watch us as we go."
The dull red lighting was the boring part, a light to minds anxiety's of what can be, what is and what may come to pass as she turns her attention to the others in the shuttle giving them an appraising glance as she and her team waits quietly.
Her team would disembark and look around, the corridor was a brief distraction before they set off into the darkness for the bridge, slow with rifles raised and lights on as the magnetic clamps of the soles kept them from floating away.
"This way Nara, Rico.. same as before. Rail rifles up and motion trackers on" The handmaidens nod and flank her on way into the darkness, scope lights on. "Yes oracle." They would look at one of the locked doors and the holo map upload that was provided.
The individuality of the Federation marines from the prowler had vanished. Whereas on the prowler, wearing a helmet was an optional endeavour, in the depths of the Meridian where the Union vessel was, no such option was allowed. The varied looks of the faces vanished behind vacuum-sealed visors. Then, the Marines disappeared. The dull, uniform greys of Federation Katrilla armour rapidly faded away into the background of the Union vessel. Optical camouflage haven took over.
As the Federation marines disembarked, eight metallic clangs sounded off, like cannons, in the silent hallway as the marines activated their mag locks. It was much easier to find things when your feet were firmly anchored to the floor afterall.
“Right” -she grabbed her weapon- “Safeties on. Fingers off the triggers. If any crew are alive, try to take them in alive. I don’t want to be responsible for explaining to command why a Union sailor has a flechette-sized hole in their stomach, got me?”
“And what if they resist?”
“Try to take them in alive,” she repeated, emphasising the first word of the sentence.
There was a nod from the Marines as acknowledgement.
If only we knew more
She cursed internally. It would have been nice to get a read on the automated defences, and without knowing if there were any, or if there were any to begin it, it was a big game of luck. Toshiko was never a gambling woman, but she took the chance this time. She reasoned that her shields would save her, and it was much better than accidentally killing a Union sailor in a flash of panic.
She took two fingers and motioned down one of the corridors. None of the marines moved forward, but one of the soccer-ball-sized drones did, sending back its telemetry and checking for traps. Drones were expendable; people were not.
She turned to the group this time, speaking in an authoritative voice that she used to command around the junior ranks of the Federation marines, which was about the equivalent of having to instil the fear of god in a crying toddler.
“Unless anyone of you have any objections, I suggest we split up. We all heard what the commander told us. Our time here’s limited.” She used her thumb to point at the general direction of her marines. “Me and my team will go for the A.I.; we’ve got a bit of experience with those things, as you’ll notice.”
The Verkroans from Herskal would be rather in awe of the technologies employed by Federation Marines, but didn't ponder too much on where they actually went. They'd instead use the zero-G to counter the restrictiveness of their bulky pressure suits, using their long bodies to spring themselves out of the shuttle and into the room ahead, powerful shoulder mounted searchlights flickering on to flood the way ahead of them with pale yellow. Identifying the door, they'd slowly float their way over to it, using handheld electromagnets to drag themselves over to it as they appeared to swim through what atmosphere there was. Recognizing the fact that everyone had effective translator devices but them, they didn't bother trying to use their own mechanical translator and simply spoke their tongue. The cutter would speak first.
"We will stick with one team and assist in clearing obstacles and mapping. We are not suitably equiped for combat scenarios."
"Entrypoint identified. Preparing to breach. Neutralizing potential Delta-P"
The driller would announce next, slotting in a long and thin bit as they held on to the wall and began to drill through the door. The schreech of metal and whine of the motor droned on until at last the bit spun free and the driller backed away from the door, latching onto the cieling.
"Effusion hole completed."
"Affirmative, beggining breeching cut."
The lancer would respond, moving into positionon the door and opening a valve on his thermal lance, aiming it at the hole drilled through the door. With a spark and a blinding flash of light, molten metal shot out and slowly a path would begin to be carved. The cutter, whose circular saw meant to be used for more delacate cuts, like removing panelling or cutting wires, would be disconecting the saw and drawing out a demolition hammer, affixing its crankshaft to where the saw once was.
Meanwhile, the driller and the mapper would have set them selves aside, the driller procuring a much larger bit. Creating a new hole, the mapper would insert in a baton-like cylinder. This lidar probe would make a rough dotmap, silhueting the objects in the room ahead. Anyone peering over their shoulders would be able to see it on the large screen, which seemed to only display in either black or green, but for the convenience of the others in the party a film was printed out with the dotmap and the rudimentary picture was sent floating back.
"Dotmap of room ahead complete. More accurate map will be completed upon entry. Requesting assistance identifying potential hazards silhueted by dotmap on the film."
As they finished their work, the breech itself would be finished up. The cutter, now with a jackhammer instead of his saw, would pound at the door, the rapid succession of blows knocking free slag. Together with the lancer they'd secure the newly freed chunk of metal, pushing the plug out just enough where it still shielded the breech but could very rapidly be kicked outwards into the next room.
"Breaching point created. Awaiting orders."
Through the driller's hole the mapper would shove a bright flare into the room ahead, illuminating it for whoever would be brave enough to push the plug out first and clear the room.
The travel down was no more than routine to the CES commander, his two lackeys and and drones that accompanied them. He had been in a few ships before in dives like these to the meridian, but none this deep, on a vessel this size, or in this bizarre circumstance. This necessitated special consideration, and great care. The lizardmen suited up and the medium armor fit closely to their body, aiding their movement rather than being a detriment to it.
As soon as the pods door opened, the three stuck to the walls, aided by very faint magnetical locks on the surface, while the three drones flared outwards, protecting their flanks. First and foremost, the squad tech fetched a small device, and updated the telemetry based on the drones, providing a live feed to the other team members, as they revised the internal structure of the arrival zone.
Penetrative scans synced with available data on the craft, and revealed the regional infrastructure of the location, conducting elements detected by magnetical-induced phenomena, plotting the battlespace in the engineering-software-converted-combat-software ages ago. Attempting to follow data-based predictions, it plots a path to the likely location of the reactor - and by consequence - of engineering. The commander contacts the other squads present.
“We will proceed to the engineering section, and attempt to restore limited functionality to the ship. If any of you will follow us, link up to the local argus instance.” - He would await for any of the others present, if they would tag along with the semi-drone squad, and then start to move out in formation with one drone watching their backs, and two forward, trying to observe through penetrative scans any type of forward defenses that might await them.
The Novish team released two small droids, as a pair of Void Corps Personnel, switched on their augmented reality heads up display. The little droids looked like a pair of triangular based pyramids, perfect tetrahedrons with each vertex having a small omnidirectional RCS pack. On each triangular face laid a suite of sensors, each constantly in contact with the visors which adorned the two void corps. On one vertex however, lay affixed a small barrel – a compact programmable gyroget.
The RCS of the droids lit up as they accelerated towards the Federation of Man squadron, drifting in 0-G momentarily passing them as they began scanning the hallways directly in front of the Novish and Federation boarding crews, creating a detailed 3D and topographical map of the space.
The void corps reach the federation of man units, one of the members handing Toshiko a small chip. Scylla proceeded to elaborate on the nature of the device, he himself possessing one.
“This is a spare secured communications unit. If you wish to access live data from the Tetra-Drones, you’ll want to plug this into an AR or digital display. Compatible with most screens in Ancerious.”
Although the Federation’s optical camouflage was impressive, Scylla tracked Toshiko down by her faint imprint on the psion, her mandala giving off a particularly calm and collected vibrance. Toshiko was not to be fooled around with, is the impression Scylla immediately had. As such, he felt it unnecessary to explain that he and his squadron was after the same as her: The AI core of the ship. The Novish did not believe that AI were inherently evil, however they did consider AI under such strange circumstances to house the genuine possibilities to be detrimental… to both Noviy and her safety. Scylla was invested, a frequent Meridian diver himself, the blue hue and atmosphere terrified yet thrilled him. He felt the pressure of the meridian and the mission upon him, the weightiness of it all having to be shaken off, and he did so physically.
Regaining his senses, he ordered his crew forward, their weapons hoisted and ready to subdue any threats to the mission. This was not an unfamiliar mission for the crew, and thus they knew every note by heart – yet the composition of the song could be wild and unpredictable.
The heavily armoured void corps members used their own RCS packs to travel through the hallways, silent as their own optics added clarity to the virtual map unfurling before their vision. Despite their armour, they were nimble, crossing obstacles carefully, using auxiliary appendages to push themselves along. Scylla seemed to float without using any such systems, suspended under his own electromagnetic force. The team was silent, oft signalling to one another with coordinated and well-practiced gesticulations.
As the teams moved out the drones moved ahead, scanning corridors and access areas.
Already from the layout the drones were providing, this was not a Nova class. It had a completely different layout, and some sections seemed not designed for any kind of living creatures to operate, rather fully automated.
Still where they had breached the corridors all connected to a large open room, one that the Herskal and Ko'Kyrians were already breaching. It was huge, at least a few hundred meters across, while initially thought to be a hangar bay the contents were not craft of any kind but material containers, stacked on top of one another in gigantic modular cubes. There was no lighting, none of the systems seemed to function but this large cargo space seemed to lead off into other directions, one of which appeared to be the main access corridor of the vessel likely running across its spine, an easy route to the bridge, engineering and AI core if it followed normal Union designs.
Already initial internal scans revealed what the drones already had indicated, this was some kind of new vessel design. Its reactor, judging from the readings was a Union ZPR, but far bigger than the typical units found on warships, with the main access spine leading to it and likely its controls.
It was then, as the groups moved into the large space towards the main access ways and analysed the data so far that two automated sentry guns sprang forth from the deck plating. A furious spray of plasma rounds indicative of Union firearms tore through the open spaces, aiming to gun down the intruders. The plasma impacts blowing chunks out of the storage units and revealing inside them delicate electronics, chips and other high value goods.
They had to get rid of the guns, if there was anyone on board who didn't know they were here they certainly did now.
The Ko'Kyrians nod in agreement as Akiri speaks on the com. Akiri: "Yes i agree, were going to head for the bridge.. thank you for cutting the door by the wa.." She gets interrupted as her ears flick "mechanical.. sounds?.. shit! TAKECOVER!!"
The handmaidens and Akiri duck into a door alcove that branches off as the sentry guns open up. A small ligth drone getting caught in the volley sparks before blowing to pieces in fiery heap. Nara: "Big problem!" She fire offer a shard rifle shot, the metal fletchette ammo impacting the top of it and ricochets upwards as the huddle in the alchove.
Rico: "Would be nice if we brang some sticky grenades, Hey Akiri!" Akiri frowns not impressed as she trys to look for a way, tapping her pad huddled against the wall, as a another box shatters. Its contents to floor glitter off the flames of the wrecked drone.
Akiri: "Well.. i packed some hacking tools and some emp throwables.. but would have to get close." She switches to coms as Nara fires some more shots off with her rail rifle, sets an emp throwable and sighs. "Cover me, I dont like this.. but it must be done."
After ducking more return fire, she waits for the exchange volly and runs to nearest crate, throwing the emp disk as she dives.. getting clipped in side and on the leg. It would the spark and go off. She hopes it fries the targeting computers or causes them to power surge as the crates around her get chewed away.
"This isn't the Nova class. That's for sure." One of the Void Corps turns to Scylla, pushing themselves up from the a wall and floating over to the other end of the hallway in the absence of gravity to be side by side with the crimson clad psion. "No subsystems here indicate that living organisms are meant to operate here. Yet, union tech. Only possibility I see so far is this be some sort of Union project.." The void corps as well as scylla continued their methodical approach towards the main access corridor. It was silent - no air meant no soundwaves: eerily reminiscent of ships of Novish design. Most Novish ships had a pressurized crew compartment and cockpit, but auxiliary access corridors, engineering bays and the like were all under vacuum. Yet, even then there were amenities - lights and signs, symbols, warning stripes and the like. Even things as simple as handlebars and the occasional landline telecom unit to speak with the bridge on an airgapped, secured network. Here it was utterly devoid, a desert of its own kind. No direction or evidence of organic use; this was no ship of the dead, for there had been no life there to begin with.
Moving into the space towards the main accessways, the eerie but peaceful exploration of the vessel became a true firefight.
The void corp’s monopropellant RCS packs hissed as they ducked away, using the crates as a cover for their bodies against the ferocious, blazing plasma bolts of the automated Union turret. The expertise of Scylla's men showed, as they spread out in three spatial dimensions, keeping their otherwise bulky bodies well hidden, always keeping something between themselves and the anti personnel turret.
Valuable electronics and goods littered the space around them as bolts of ionized plasma shred through the cargo containers in the room, seemingly caring less for the contents of these crates, but more concerned with their one mission of exterminating any intruder.
“Gamma and Delta, you're up. Prepare to launch HE frags.” Scylla barked through his communications unit. Gamma and Delta were on opposite sides of the space, each taking a grenade off their vest.
“Copy that, Scylla. Armed and ready”
“Affirmative, Scylla. We're moving into position. Grenades primed and secured.”
“Good. Remember, synchronized timing is crucial. On my mark, both of you throw simultaneously.” Scylla grabs one the crates, and with a heave it detached from its securing supports - with a subtle red hue it appears to take on a strong magnetic characteristic, more crates affixing themselves to the structure; Scylla formed a larger barrier of cover for the rest of the teams to use.
“Now!”
The grenades soar through the air, out powerful pneumatic launchers affixed to the underside of Gamma and Deltas carbines, sailing through the open space and at the automated turrets.
“Navy’s dream right here,” Toshiko remarked to nobody.
Toshiko continued forward, taking point as the Novish team up-ahead made manoeuvres in zero-g, using their RCS thrusters with the fidelity of a ballet dancer. The look of surprise when Scylla handed her a chip and told her they were going with was genuine. To her knowledge, the Novish distrusted A.I., and she still wasn’t sure if this was a blessing or a curse. She knew that when emotion met logic, emotion tended to win. Regardless, she thanked Scylla for the chip and plugged it in as he had instructed, and much to her surprise, it worked as advertised.
She paused, waiting for the Herskhal and Ko’Kyrians to finish cutting open the bulkhead door. The vessel had been completely silent, and even if there were Union crewmembers somewhere in this wreck, she would not have heard them calling out for help. The longer she spent aboard, the more she doubted that there was anyone to begin with. On the off-chance, however, she said nothing to her marines. She didn’t think Carnaith would be much pleased if they showed up hauling the body of a dead Union Sailor back onto their meridian shuttles. She doubted that any sailor would even resist, given Verdant Knight's state.
A threat alarm snapped her into action. She and her marines ran for cover as instructions drilled repeatedly took hold. In one swift motion, she used one of her fingers to lift the safety of her rifle. She squeezed the trigger.
A staccato of fire erupted.
“Jackson, Lenz, switch to AT but hold your fire until the guys with grenades are clear. The rest of you, cover the guys with grenades,” she barked with a voice of iron.
“Aye sergeant!”
The Herskalites were more engineers than combatants. When the teams moved into the room, they simply floated along behind the large heavy chunk of freed metal. Now, it seemed they could have a use for such a chunk of metal, as they rather rapidly slammed it into one of the side walls next to the crates. The driller and the lancer braced themselves against it, fighting the pull of the Scylla's own magnetically assembled barrier. In fact, they all were fighting it, as their bulky pressure suits were not degaussed.
The lancer would tune down his thermal lance to a much smaller, needle like jet of fire and metal, before using it to rapidly apply a bead of solder fed by a by a spool on his back. With their cover now secured, the driller would tap a hole through the heavy door, which the pair would promptly take turns using to wedge the muzzle of their pistols through. Their revolvers were simple, bulky things, and would easily be passable for antiques by the standards of the other parties they were with, but would still make quite the thunderous bang and flash as fireballs spat out of the little pistol port.
The mapper would be trying to use their lidar probe to identify targets for the two verkroans actively trying to give a defense of their nation's honor and their liege lord's honor. Of course, they weren't likely to hit anything of importance, but they'd try their damndest.
The cutter, meanwhile, was using this time to fulfill the secondary objective the Herksalites had in being here. Switching back to the circular saw which was being used to free the contents of one of the crates, plucking them out of suspension and stuffing them into pockets. All of the Verkroans were doing this, really, whenever a piece floated close enough for them to nab. Their task done, they'd also add their own pistol to the firefight, blindly firing over the top of their slightly more empty crate.
The EMP grenade thrown by the Ko'Kyrians bounced across the decking in zero G before coming close to one of the guns. Detonating with an invisible burst of EMP the gun momentarily stopped firing, giving a quick couple of seconds before its systems coped with the surge and opened fire again. That few seconds was all that was needed by Nara to fire two railgun rounds into its mounting and sever it from the deck. The gun finally went silent.
The bullets from the Herskalites ricochets from the turrets, the defensive armour proving a tough nut to crack. Still one went down, the second being hit with a sudden barrage of HE grenades from the Novish. While doing superficial damage the turret was still intact, and fired a burst at them in response. The bright plasma illuminating the room in a strobe effect as bursts traced across the Zero G vacuum. However with the turret distracted the AT rifle from the Federation would find its mark, targeting a chink in the armour the round punched straight through the firing mechanisms, causing plasma to leak from the weapon and it to go dark.
It seemed like the immediate threat was dealt with for now.
That was until the lights came on.
There was a sudden whine that seemed to echo throughout the ship, then a very powerful pulse, you could feel it in your bones like a thump sound that discharged. Power readings had gone up, the ships ZPR had just been kicked into action.
A second later the gravity plating in the room activated, not just bringing them down to 1G standard, it went to 10G. Trying to crush those within it to the floor and prevent them from advancing.
The same thing happened in the access corridors, trying to trap whoever was inside where they were. Additional bulkheads closed, and likely the only reason they were not spaced is because whatever or whoever was controlling the ship knew that to break the outer seal this deep in the Meridian was suicide.
Akiri shrugs gently as the turrets are delt with, Rico and Nara would rush over and apply a bandages and some healing gel to the burn wounds. Nara: "Your so reckless, makes one wonder why your a scientist." She frowns as Rico is keeping her rail rifle pointing at the sparking turrets.
Akiri: "Thanks.. but someone has to act, overwise how will we proceed?" Nara's ears flick down to the lights coming on as the grav plates start up. Rico: "Fuck!" All of them are pulled down by the gravity, Akiri.. wincing presses the button on the spare emp grenade she was holding. "Zzzt!"
It goes off sparking with a dull static as the plate that they are standing on.. along with some their gear is shut off prematurely. They all breath a sigh of relief Nara: "Well.. that aside, i guess we got a few minutes before plate fixes itself along with our gear." She sits down and looks at the herskals and then others Nara: "Akiri? how many more of those do you have?"
Akiri: "Three more? why?" She peers at the others and.. gets the message. Rico: "Give one! HEY! humans, plates getting turned off!" She throws one at them, as Akiri lobs one over to Herskals/Ces CHET and Nara at the Noivy Akiri: "SORRY! But its only way to give you time to deal with the plates, i'll pay the rebill later!"
The last of the emp grenades would clatter down on the plates near each group.. whine and spark, shorting out the plates and some gear.. long enough for them to do something.
The Herskalites look at their revolvers and the spent brass now lingering in the air, and back at the now silent turrets. Did their guns actually do something? The were about to rejoice their victory, the driller whooping with joy, before they all got slammed into the ground.
Their heavy pressure suits buckled and groaned from the unexpected gravity. Their legs were now splayed out as they laid on their bellies, flat against the ground. The hydraulics on their iso-elastic armetures struggled to try and compensate, reducing the weight on their bulky equipment just enough that the lancer was able to try and wildly blast out the grav plate beneath the floor with a jet of molten metal.
The EMP grenades would indeed help relieve them temporarily, the sudden lack of gravity causing their sprung armetures to fly outwards until the hydraulics could be bypassed for zero-g usage. This short break was welcomed, as it allowed the Herskalites to work together in order to rip out the floor panel and attempt to prevent the gravity plate from reactivating by violently mauling at it. The only one not involved in this process was the mapper, who's large screen was now a confused mess of lines and bands ands static feedback until the EMP wave subsided. He was currently working on rebooting and recalibrating the system, going at it with some small wrenches and a small plate on the end of a rod that was evidently being used as a reference, until at last the deranged and erratic bands slowly blurred out and produced a sharp enough radar scan of the reference with an appropriate distance. Then, the poor Verkroan fiddled with a cylinder mounted to the back of his pressure suit- he had to reset the discs that made up the hard drive, which got wiped and a little bit toasty from the EMP blast.
At last, he proudly held up his work, muttered a curse upon Akiri, and stuck his radar mapper into the opened floor to try and locate the power conduits.
The plating's activation was met with loud cursing by the DART forces, as they were instantly forced down to a kneel or to the floor. 10G was not enough to crush them, given that their equipment weighted so little and was still movement-assisted, however, it was nothing to scoff at, as the technician within the group hastily ordered the drones to disable the plating underneath them.
The Drones seemed to be almost unnaffected by the change in gravity, rather just landing upon the ground. As the ZPR activated, they watched the energies flood through the corridors, pciking up the most minute of fluctuations within the conducting cabling that surrounded them, the infinitesimal inductance generated by it and its variation would point out to the possible direction of the ZPR, which they would likely want to secure as a bargaining chip against whatever was trying to kill them right now.
Still, the Drones reacted, one of them wedged a mechanical hand at a joint in the floording, and with one muscular movement pulled the panneling out, immediatly starting to fire at the conducting cables that powered the gravplating in an attempt to save its controllers from the gravitational harm. The other drone moved to do the same, and as it crouched down, an EMP grenade from Akiri lands close to it. The commander can barely make a warning out of strained breaths, before the EMP grenade goes off.
Surprisingly, there is absolutely no effect on the drone's electronics. However, the EMP induces an electrical current through the wiring that powers the artificial drone musculature, it contracts like a broken doll instantly achieving the shape of crumpled paper, and flies off from the sudden and powerful muscular contraction towards a wall, making a heavy indent upon it in impact. Its mangled mess starts to leak some sort of oily substance.
“Good shot,” Toshiko remarked. “Fan out; we need to find our way to the AI before more turrets pop up.”
For a moment, it was dark. The zero-g environment inside the Union warship was illuminated by the dying breath of the plasma turret as the team’s combined efforts slammed into it. Then, all-consuming light. A few of the marines wince in pain as the sudden luminosity surprised them, the brightness interfering deeply with their visual displays before it was calibrated.
“Get down,” shouted one, not realising that he had no choice in the matter.
The marines are forced down, their mechanical servos struggling against the Union’s grav plates. It was a losing battle. Weighing ten times more, even if their gear was lighter than the standard infantryman, was not good for either the mechanical component or the people inside who went from breathing fine to suddenly feeling as if a house had been dropped on their lungs.
Toshiko tried to inhale; breathing had become difficult. Her armour was fighting for as long as it could against the 10 gs of force, but eventually, it would fail, and at that point, she was as good as dead.
I’m gonna die in a shithole like this? Really?
The Ko’kyrians provided her salvation.
She and her marines felt relief as the ten Gs of force turned to a standard one G. It felt like a weight had been lifted off their chest.
“We have to cut the power the reactor’s providing. If this ship’s built like our own, try and find a circuit breaker, or anything and cut it.”
FWOOOOOOOOM
The intense gravity pulled Scylla and his team to the floor in a heartbeat, the sound it produced as it interfered with their audio sounded like a powerful bass boost - quickly corrected as their sensors recalibrated to the new forces being exuded upon them.
The bulky void corps that were not bound to the floor before the plating activated suffered the worst; the powerful gravitc pull grasped the floating corps personnel and flung them towards the floor at great speed. With a mangled crunch, equipment directly between themselves and the floor being crushed by the immense weight. Bullets scattered about and rolled around on the floor as magazines were utterly pulverized. Thank Nonagon the grenades themselves could support plenty of weight and trauma before giving in.
Scylla managed to pull himself up just to his hands and knees, better than being flat against the floor like a sunfish at the bottom of a reef. He pants, looking around as the bassy noise in his ear subsides - an EMP grenade slowly rolls into his periphery. Prior to its detonation, Scylla quickly grabs the grenade and sticks it onto the hull floor, whereupon he rolls over, shielding his head from the incoming electromagnetic pulse.
With a powerful crackle, the grenade detonates - leaving behind an incredibly potent ozone scent in the air as the gasses ionize. His vision dances with artifacting, compiling and compression issues from his optics gradually clearing out as he is granted temporary relief from the intense gravity. He claws open the hull, pulling metal plates apart until he gets to the wire underneath. He flicks his wrist, a small device dispensing a thin, pointy metallic object into the palm of his hand. Using a clawed finger, he tests each wire by placing an iron nail on each of the lines; measuring each one and listening intently. Finally, he heard one that he believed to be the line for secure inter-ship communications. He leaned down, focusing on the wire he identified. With great care, a small red ark of electricity traveled from his wrist, to his hand, and then into the nail, whereupon it would be subsumed into the wire - transmitting a message.
“ES PARTEIA SAUVE-GARDE NONVIOLENCIT. WIR REMORQE D’I MERIDIAN. DEACTIVI MESUR SECURITE”
“THIS IS A NONVIOLENT RESCUE PARTY. WE HAVE COME TO TOW YOU OUT OF THE MERIDIAN. DEACTIVATE SECURITY MEASURES.”
As the EMP grenades gave them all some temporary reprieve from the gravity plating the Herskalites searching for the power conduits found their mark. Under the deck a reinforced power line was giving energy to everything in this deck. To sever it would be dangerous, but would take out the power to this area, not just the plates. Everything.
As some of the plates are taken out of action entirely the main power conduit is the main bet. They would of course need to cut through the bulkheads but then they had planned for that anyway. It appeared by the various scans, that the ZPR unit was roughly 300m from their current position. They could get there likely from the internal scan maps via a bulkhead to their right and down a couple access corridors.
It wasn't until Scylla attempted to splice into the internal coms to send a message that as if from nowhere. The crushing gravity ceased.
While the alarms and the bulkheads remained, the gravity had been turned off, Scylla had made contact with someone.
"I am Captain Duran of the Union of Worlds, identify yourselves. Myself and my crew will be down to make contact shortly, the lockdown is a security measure I apologise for our automated defences"
The voice came over the speakers, finally, they knew someone was home.
Maybe this could go a lot easier than just fighting through a ghost ship.
Akiri sighs and brushes herself down, she puts up her hood as her handmaidens sling thier weapons. Akiri: "what do you both think?.. where new to this, want to try talking least once?" Nara frowned as Rico kept a look out Nara: "nothing ventured.. nothing gained." Rico: "Up to you.. but aware this can go fruit shaped at any moment in this purple hell."
Akiri waves a hand over her braclet as a small keyboard and screen appears, she kneels to type on it keeping out of sigth of camera's by thier box cover. It would appear on the over teams coms. Ko'kyrians: "Gonna try talking to get answers or stall for time.. have a plan B an C just in case." these appear as a text to talk message in green letters for them only.
she would then step out with her hand maidens as waves the braclet holoboard away and look into the camer with her ligth green eyes. Akiri: "We are are the Ko'kyrian, beening new to this place.. was under the assumption that this was a derelict and came to explore. We are sorry, for the mess." she bows a little been polite as a oracle of her rank does and smiles "i accept a face to face talk, my name is Akiri."
Scylla coughed once, groaning as he practically peeled himself up from the floor - one which he had become quite accustomed to after having been introduced to it at 10G. He swiveled his head from side to side to assess his group as the rest of the meridian deep recovery teams rose themselves, catching their bearings.
“This is Scylla, of the Novish Team. As I said earlier - we’re a rescue team, organized by Carnaith, answering the distress call this ship seems to have sent out.”
Scylla pauses for a moment, before continuing, as he turns to face the speaker from which the captain’s voice came from.
“The distress call was that of the Verdant Knight, Nova-Class. This appears to look more like a Horizon fleet Dart class cruiser, from what I can tell. Why?”
A Novish drone shuffled about helplessly on the floor, making a tick-tick-tick noise unusual of the model and make; it spun in circles, pivoting on a corner yet it was unable to take flight like its fellow drone compatriot, which was busy briskly picking out some debris from its optics using spindly, needle-like limbs which unfolded from its under-chassis.
Scylla sighs as he picks up the chrome frame, holding it firmly under his arm. Sliding a small compartment out of the drone, he pulled on the metallic tool to magnetically decouple it from the chassis. Like a switchblade, the screw head popped right out from the side - using which Scylla would open up a panel on the drone. He peered in, the glow from his optic illuminating the dark interior in a soft red hue; taking note of the disconnected and misaligned gravitic spikes within. Carefully, he reset each one, whereupon he would reattach the panel and set the drone free like a dove, springing to action and floating around the room with its functionality restored.
His finger, however. It itched towards his secondary holster.
“Fuck, this just got worse” - Thought the commanding officer of the DART expedition. A million different possibilities for the sudden communication flooded his mind, but one fact prevailed: This “Captain” was likely a complete and total lie. They needed to get a move on, something within the ship was stirring against them, and if they were their enemy, the teams were like frogs boiling in a pot, only unaware of their sealed fate.
The three lizard members of the DART party gathered with the others, in particular, the Novish. They could not risk communicating openly, after all if this was a possible non-UoW entity that had taken over the vessel and wanted to see them gone, all eyes would be upon them right now. Thus, they had to communicate in less sophisticated ways.
The commander of the group simply disagreed with his head at the others. He grabbed the tablet from the technician, and projected a map of the ship with the ZPE, raising his right hand in the air, he outlined a circle with his index, and pointed to the ZPE. Giving the tablet back to the technician, he punched his open left palm squeezing the fist, hopefully, the message was relayed.
The small team regrouped, and quietly and without rush, they moved down the hallway towards the ZPE.
As Toshiko got up from the floor, she turned to Akiri, stumbling a bit as she was still adapting to going from 1g to 10, back to one.
“Good throw on those grenades," she said appreciatively. "I owe you guys one."
She surveyed her surroundings, seeing that the drones her marines employed were laying still on the floor. The sudden -if brief- change in gravity having broken their circruity beyond any hope of field repair. She took a look at her comm log, cursing as the screen glitched out and died. Like all humans since the dawn of time with electronics, Toshiko struck it with an open palm three times. The reaction of the comm-log now, as it had been since the dawn of time was the same; nothing.
Toshiko's expression soured. Their expedition had barely begun, and they'd lost their recon capability. That meant they had only one option left, turn to the Novish.
She turned to Scylla, sending a message that read
Don't trust Duran. Planting charges on bulkheads, just in-case. Detonate on your mark.
Toshiko wasn't sure what to believe, if this Duran was real then they could simply deactivate the charges and explain the misunderstanding, but the fact that he had only appeared now and instead of when they first started breaching didn't give the man any points in Toshiko's mind. She wasn't sure what Duran was, but something told her that he wasn't what he was claiming to be.
There was silence from the coms for a few minutes, leaving the teams in an eerie position to take whatever precautions and procedures they wished.
But then one of the bulkhead doors opened.
Striding into the room in power armour and flanked by two seemingly automated drone bodyguards Captain Duran looked around at each of the groups. His tripedal appearance denoted that of a Cylaurian, and he quickly took his helmet off to look upon the groups with his own face as the room was filled with breathable air.
"I bid you greetings. Welcome to my ship" He did not state the name "You say you are a rescue team sent by Carnaith and yet I do not see any Carnaithians. I do however that we did send out a distress signal, one I did not think would get picked up by individuals such as yourselves. No matter" He turned to Scylla.
"This is not the Verdant Knight, nor a Nova class. You are correct this is a secret vessel part of a classified operation. I will not give you any further details. However I am very thankful for your assistance, you will have the full co-operation of me and my crew in trying to get this vessel out of the Meridian. Our FTL drive was damaged on route to Union space, given we are fairly close it should not be a long trip once we are out and collected. I trust you have vessels and equipment able to recover a ship like this? For now we need Ancerium fuel to help with buoyancy, if we get any deeper the corrosion will get worse and all of us will be dead. We must work fast"
Duran spoke quickly but seemed determined to work with the group. The two drone soldiers lowered their weapons, a surprise given that the Union had not deployed drone soldiers in any conflict in Ancerious so far. It was known they had the capability for them but none had been seen in action.
The Herskal engineers looked amongst themselves and the group. They had been silently, and intently, listening in, their bulky translator unit spitting out several lines of translated text simultaneously. They looked amongst themselves, and back to the group. The driller took out a leatherbound identification booklet, which included in its pages a brief description of the various factions at the end, until at last they came upon the Union's summation.
They were foe of Capitol and thus friend, yet, there was something amiss. Surely, such a powerful force in the galaxy would have greater care in the movement of such a vessel if it was of enough importance to be secret and classified. Surely there were more discrete procedures in place than broadcasting a false distress signal.
The driller did not speak, but they did show the page to her comrades. The silently looked amongst themselves, occasionally hissing and snapping as their suspicion grew. Their gaze turned upon the other members of the boarding party as they slowly brought their long necks up to peer over the boxes.
"The Losharik is available, however, we haven't the portable communications system powerful enough to contact them and thusly we are unable to be of assistance at this time." Begins the Driller, slowly looking from the suppose Captain, Duran, to the rest of the members of the boarding party. "If any of our new friends could make contact, we would be much obliged. In the meanwhile, Captain, I must ask how such a vessel as this, not far from Union Space, hasn't any form of escort or more discrete means of calling for assistance than a falsified distress signal, particularly if the mission is classified?"
The ko'kyrians listern as the herskals perk up first, she smiles still keeping to politeness as choices can mean either figthing round the out plates.. an then the crew and droids. Thought helping them can mean other things and their is alot that isnt making sense, what is truth? what is a lie? what is a twist?"
Akiri: "Well.. we can help you, but my i ask? about your droids Captain."She moves her tail briefly more as a tell for Nara and Rico get ready keeping out of sight as press a button on their rifles turning on the fletchet energisers.*
whisper to Nara Rico: "Get an angle on those droids.. keep the rifle down and out of sight. But get ready to shoot both droids in one go if they raise their weapons." whisper in reply to Rico Nara: "Yes, i know full well that the fletchet will shatter on impact and knock them down, but it has a recharge after a few shots."
Akiri waits for the others to say something, she is keeping her hands where the captain can see them, unknow to him though. Her braclet is set to a prototype shield mode, its mostly for panic moments and would generate a small shield for 5 secs of cover.
Toshiko had the detonator clutched tightly in the grip of her right hand, waiting, even anticipating, for the order to detonate.
The order had never come.
As the bulkhead opened and Captain Duran strode in, the rising crescendo of tension petered like a campfire come morning. Instead of the inquisitive, even hostile man that Toshiko had expected him to be, Captain Duran seemed cordial and appreciative. She loosened the grip on the detonator, holding it like it was just another object now instead of their only method of escape.
As Duran took off his helmet, Toshiko shrugged mentally. She wasn’t sure if he was playing an act or if he seemed to be genuinely happy and trying to foster trust between the two groups. Whatever the case was, she understood that Carnaith would much appreciate if they could bring back alive crewmembers, as opposed to three body bags. So, she decided they would pay back Duran’s seeming trust in the group equally.
Like one, the Marines disabled their camouflage, lowered weapons, and safeties on; they also seemed open to working with the Union crew to save the ship.
She turned to Duran first, then to the Herskal Driller. “We can try to radio Carnaith, but I doubt the signal will go through with all the interference this deep in the Meridian.”
“Sent and organized by the Carnaithians. Yes. We’re carrying out this mission at the behest of Carnaith”
The Novish scout drone hopped on over into the arms of Scylla, ejecting a small silver disk into his palm. With careful precision, Scylla picked up the disc, gripping it delicately between two fingers, and with a thumb pressed a mechanical latch on his head, which opened up a small tray slot, into which Scylla placed the disk seamlessly. As it retracted and processed, Scylla continued.
“Now, our mission is to get this ship out of the Meridian. While I understand this is highly secretive, this is also time-sensitive as this ship will eventually decay into the abyss with inaction.”
As Scylla finished his sentence, his optic exposure skyrocketed momentarily, light sources bleeding all over his vision as his overlay adjusted to account for the scanning data provided by the drone. His brain ached as he processed the data, digesting it bit by bit - Scylla stood still, the light in his eye flickering as everything buffered and processed.
“Let us see if the ship can radio or communicate with the Carnaithian vessel as Toshiko suggested, We’ll need to know the tether locations if we want to pull this out.”
Although Scylla kept a cool exterior, the man became increasingly wary. All the small inconsistencies in the details put him off, prompting him to open himself and sense the psion around him. Was there something amiss, something concealed beyond typical senses?
Before the small group can make much progress, Duran barges into the corridors. His presence is like a mental flashbang which rings out in a tinnitus of confusion and a searing white of blinding suspecion that floods the mind of the commander and the other lizards. Surely, this can't be correct?
The group moves back to gather with the others around Duran, introducing themselves.
"We're with DART, uh, Derelict Asset Recovery Task, pleasure to make acquaintance."
He eyes the captain and the combat drones, backdropped by the loud clunk of the own experimental CES combat drones falling from the hole in the wall that it embedded itself into a few minutes ago.
"I don't s'pose you wanna tell us your secrets, yes? Well..."
He beckons the technician with a hand, his holopad at the ready.
"Then jus' give mah boy here a good look at the structural integrity of the ship an' all, and we'll see 'bout pulling you outta here quick."
Although the group was at the ready to fulfil their tasks, there was still an aura of suspecion that lingered around Duran and his sudden and unexplained appearance after the silence of the ship. There was something more amiss within all of this, but if it took some cooperation to get to it, that might be the length that the DART squad goes to.
Duran seemed to eye the Herskals for a moment. They were new comers to the galactic stage, and the Union had little intelligence about them. They knew them of course, one didn't become a galactic major power without an intelligence agency capable of watching almost everything, the fact that the Herskal had fought Capitol had put them on the Unions contact list, but with ongoing matters of the war, Borealia and other things no actions had yet been undertaken.
"Escorts draw attention. As does broadcasting our true nature. I cant tell you any more than that"
His answer was short and to the point.
"What about them?" He then swiftly replied to Akiri, both machines turning their heads to her as if being addressed. They briefly seemed to twitch in response as the Federation marines decloaked, but as they lowered weapons and made peaceful gestures the combat machines merely went back to a passive stance.
"We can use our communications system on this ship, its short range but should cut through to them if the vessel, presumably a Prowler knowing our allies, is close by. I can provide you with a very brief overview of the ships structural integrity but I cannot compromise the secrecy of this vessel, you must understand this ship is crucial to ongoing Union efforts. What data I give you must be erased once this is complete" The last sentence was directed at the DART contingent.
Meanwhile the disk onloaded by Scylla was revealing its secrets. Already she could tell the coding and software was immensely heavy and advanced, it was Union but it had major distinctive differences, some of which looked very alien to the rest of the code architecture almost like it was taped on and badly meshed together. This disk seemed to be some kind of advanced targetting algorithm, if correct its reaction time would be immense and its networking capabilities with others of its kind would be flawless apparantly with a focus on highlighting and engaging targets giving off both gravimetric and psionic signatures. Was this some kind of new Union hardware to fight the Army of the Panopticon?
Duran nodded to one of the drones next to him that seemed to relay information somewhere else on the ship.
"We are contacting the Carnaithian vessel now, the relevant data is also being sent" a ping data packet for the CES was also recieved. The ships overall layout being very different to that of standard Union vessels.
Akiri flicks her tail again and her handmaidens sigh, putting the rifles onto passive discharge for a little bit, they holster them and peer over the boxes to watch her curiously.
Akiri: "Well i was curious, because my understanding is Union dont use droids? by my grasp of this galaxys politics is rather fleeting. Which leave to my brother." She crosses her arms waiting for others to pipe in replys. "Though, i'll go with what the others decide to do."
The Verkroans quietly murmur to themselves. There was logic, perhaps, though they were no experts on the field; they were merely a salvage crew. They also had no experience to make heads nor tails of the ship's design, if the other members of the party decided to be so kind as to show their Herskalite comrades the data.
However, a cursory read through their pocket-dossiers, provided to salvage crews to get an idea of what to expect on the vessels they encountered. It was by no means comprehensive whatsoever, made purely by hours of scouring whatever sources the Ministry of Defense could scrounge off the AncNet and a lot of postulation. The fact that Union and Capitol were decidedly not allies put them at ease, somewhat, but this whole operation seemed somewhat suspicious to them.
"Very well," the Driller pipes up again, "we shall wait for our comrades. In the meanwhile, our tools are at your disposal." They take a somewhat less defensive stance behind the crate. They are certainly more relaxed, but still not comfortable enough with this whole situation to completely forego their cover.
" 'Das up to the boss up top but I s'pose that we don' want to step on nobody's toes 'round ere."
The team on board of the vessel eye eachother suspiciously, untrusting completely of Duran as of yet. Yet they carry on with their job, deep inside their hearts they knew that, were this situation as simple as it was presenting itself, then there would be no further trouble for them, at the very least. Perhaps worrying about galactical politics was above their paygrade.
Meanwhile, data was churned at the small flotilla that floated "above" the sunken ship, in realspace. Optical beams fired at showers of perfected crystallic beads outputted just the correct luminous patterns to determine the dylation of the object of study, through iteration, optimal grappling points were determined, seeking to damage the least of the ship, pulling it up the fastest from the depths, yet burning the least ammount of fuel from their own dredgers.
Special care was provided at this junction as to not offshore the data, lest a political crysis be created atop all of this.
“Sounds like a plan,” Toshiko replied to Duran, referencing his suggestion to use the communication device on the ship.
Toshiko felt a tinge of sourness in her expression as she realised that she and her little group would probably not be able to help much given that they didn’t carry any real heavy equipment. She had assumed if the damage to their drive was light, then the man would have fixed it already meaning that, it was either really bad, or completely broken.
Duran's stonewalling of the group's questions had given Toshiko little pause for thought. She figured that if she was in Duran's position, she would have probably said the same thing. There was however, one question she wanted Duran to answer.
“I’ll save the trouble of asking operational questions, captain, but I do have one,” toshiko said, pausing momentarily. “Other than ancerium, what exactly does this ship need to get out of the meridian?”
"We use drone forces where necessary, given that this operation is extremely covert the less to know about it the better for security" Duran flatl stated to Akiri.
"Other than Ancerium, a kickstart of our reactors should suffice to get the engines online. However while our power systems are fine our engines have been suffering intermittent issues, as have several other systems on board. If you are able to physically pull us out of the Meridian that would be most helpful"
A small beep made the Captain look at his wrist.
"It appears contact has been made with the Carnaithian Prowler, it does not have the power to drag us up by itself but it is standing by to help direct any grappling efforts by vessels in realspace. I trust you all came with adequate recovery capability yes?" Duran seemed to smile.
The hull of the Union vessel was remarkably intact, and had several key areas of flat hull perfect for magnetic grappling. The Prowler was ready to relay and guide the cables in to ensure perfect alignment, communications now relaying back and forth from the depths to the vessels arranged on the 'surface'.
Duran seemed to look at his wrist mounted display for a moment, his mouth moved but no words were spoken. He then turned back and smiled.
"We will get ready to bring the engines online once we are near the surface, recovery operations will hopefully be underway soon. If you would, I would like you to accompany me to a more secure part of the vessel, once we are on the surface it should be far safer to return to your own craft rather than risk the Meridian again"
Those vessels now beginning recovery operations would register a powerful FTL transmission, data heavy, being sent via the Prowler and the coms bouy, broadcast towards Union territory. It appeared Duran and the vessel in question was contacting home.
The Deep Meridian Recovery Vessel Lokranitz, one way or the other, received word of the need to begin recovery operations. She was, decidedly, a rather large vessel by Herskal standards, but still small by many metrics. She was, however, designed with the sole purpose of hauling as much out of the depths of the Meridian as possible.
She was also notable for not being attached to any of the Astronautica's battlegroups or merchant flotillas, and as such was commanded by a Lord who had no fleet, simply a ship. Lord Commander Ekrowik, or as she was referred to by those who had the unfortunate need to be plucked out of the Meridian by the Lokranitz within the Astronautica, "that tardy miracle", was by no means remarkable other than the sheer amount of bullshit she had to deal with, as her vessel was of keen interest to the Ministry of Technology and a vital asset to the fledgling Astronautica of the Ministry of Defense, often leading her to have an incredibly dense timetable- the time loitering in the void waiting on the engineering team was the closest thing the ship had to a break outside of the time it spends in the gantries to replenish its precious coat of Halostone.
With a sigh, Ekrowik turned to her helmsman.
"Take her under, steady as she goes. Conserve kolleronic plasma ballast."
Behind her, Head Naturalist Loruk Krantz was brimming with glee, much opposed to the tired and formal nature of Ekrowik. Loruk was quite interested to see this alien vessel herself- her notebook already filled with labeled sketches of the surrounding spacecraft, margins filled with her theories as to what the various greebles on the spacecraft actually did- and the chance to see an enigmatic, top-secret craft belonging to the Union was something she was quite excited for.
The FTL transmissions were intercepted by the Lokranitz, but they swiftly gave up any chance of attempting to decode the encryptions. It was, however, a cause for some concern. Ekrowik sighed, watching the depth dial readings as they became increasingly more concerning, contemplating what exactly they had gotten themselves into. The Lokranitz was now deep enough that they actually had a chance of reaching the engineering team over the Herksal’s comms.
Engineer Team, this is Lokranitz. Exercise caution. On Approach.
The order in which the encrypted- albeit poorly- transmission gave its advisory was perhaps a bit suspect, and the engineering team, reading the radio telegraph as it appeared on their screen, acknowledged this as a confirmation of their own suspicions. Caution, they shall take.
The driller would speak up.
“The Lokranitz is on its way. Its operational capacity is limited. It has never moved such a large ship before.”
The cutter was staring at the Captain. He hoped that the gold tinted visor would do enough to hide the intent at which he was staring at Duran. In hushed whispers, he confided with his kin in native tongue.
“The mouth moves, but no sounds. Are they truly a living being?”
The mapper replies.
“We’ve seen how advanced their technology is, and they do use droids. Do you think it possible?”
The driller cuts off the line of discussion, leaving the thoughts to linger in mind rather than in air.
“Hush, brothers. They may overhear. They may understand. Remember the teachings.”
The verkroans nodded in mutual understanding. The Ministry of Defense drilled it into their mind, time and time again. Never underestimate the xenos, for they have many years that the Herskals did not. The Herskal Astronautical Engineer Team thusly made their way over and slightly behind the main group, using the translator to speak to the rest of the boarders in broken galactic basic.
“We follow comrades-in-arms. If you follow, we follow.”
Akiri nods briefly "I was just curious, but least we had foresigth to bring an ancerium tanker with us. Its.. cheap mix, but will do. As a scientist, theres not much i can do unless its like a computer. But we'll follow the others guidence."
She had crossed her arms as the hand maidens had come over to stand near her and watch a bit quietly, making up their own minds about those involved and Duran infront of them. Akiri: "Like i said, my brother handles the poltics.. i handle the science and exploration and everythings a bit new here.. in this galaxy."
She looks to side breifly lost in thought before looking back at Duran Akiri: "Its a weird feeling.. beening back in the purple hell, that woke up adrift on with no way out."
Sylla read, and re read the disk which spun inside his tray. He stood, acting none the wiser, taking the time to verify the files. A psion himself, some of these terms, ideas were familiar - but that was just the surface skim which contextualized the vast complexity of the targeting algorithm which he read through.
He felt, with a tinge of certainty that this information was that the captain of this here vessel did not want to leave the confines of the ship - thus Scylla would act unassumingly.
His comrade tapped his shoulder.
“Hey, you’ve been looking a bit aloof - you’ve got book eyes.”
“Oh, don’t mind me. I’m just listening to what Duran says. See if there’s any signal to our vessel in realspace, then let me know if there’s any appreciable connection.”
The Void Corps marine nodded as he began to tune something on her wrist. Not dissimilar to a radio, except instead of electromagnetic, the weak but precise pulses were gravitic in nature - causing the air to wobble with a quiet hum as she started to tune it to the frequency set by the team above. There was an interesting contrast to be observed between Scylla and his trusted Void Corps. Despite his seniority and rank, he possessed the smallest frame - at least a good three quarter foot shorter than theirs - if anything it was a testament to the Void Corp’s bulk and magnitude.
Scylla, in the meantime, turned away for a moment looking at Duran inquisitively. There was much afoot, and as such Scylla felt his body almost contract like a spring. Despite not moving an inch externally, he was anticipating... something. Why’d his mouth move there? Is there something he didn’t want us to hear?. If Duran’s just acting like he doesn’t know I read that disk, then he’s leading us somewhere not so pretty. Or maybe he doesn’t know, and is just being thorough.
“Hey, captain duran? We’re pretty safe here for the moment - where’d you be taking us?”
The void corps team looked mildly surprised for a moment as Scylla asked the question - after all, Scylla visibly looked like they wanted to leave this inhuman space, complaints quietly being muttered via radio as they explored the vessel not fifteen minutes ago.
“Oh, I think I just got that connection with the Pleura- it’s weak, but! They’d be able to receive a request to assist in towing this vessel.” noted one of the Void Corps
"An Ancerium tanker is perfect, as for my silent words I do apologise it is the nature of the mission that I must keep the secrecy. It is a special sound cancelling system only works at very short ranges however." Duran commented to both the Herskals and Akiri. The Cylaurians hearing was indeed phenomenal.
"Now this way please, I am taking you to another hold this time actually designed for proper individual transport rather than standard cargo. It has proper furnishings and you shall be much more comfortable there"
As the Lokranitz descended the grapples attached to the hull of the vessel they were on, causing slight vibrations to run across the vessel. This was further compounded by additional deep grapples sent down by the Noviy vessel which would pull from the surface. Between the two ships and with the Prowler guiding them the ship rose, slowly at first but gradually faster as it neared the surface.
The drone soldiers stood to one side, letting the groups accompany Duran back through the bulkhead they had come. Just like where they had entered the ships hallways did not seem designed for actual living crew or at least a standard complement for how a ship operated. The drones marched behind them their weapons idle as Duran finally brought them to another compartment. It was smaller than the last one, and had several bare metal tables and chairs located around the room bolted to the floor. Lockers lined the room and basic wash and cooking facilities were present on one wall.
"Its not much but its certainly better than a cargo hold. We should be breaching the surface shortly then you may transfer back to your ships. I thank you for your assistance"
With the Union vessel now entering the shallows there was another communications burst, same encryption as the one that had been sent out. Duran stepped to one side to seemingly listen in silence before turning back to them and smiling.
The Prowler however, the Lokranitz and the other ships present now picked up two unknown contacts within the Meridian on an intercept course.
Ekrowik's gaze scoured the bridge, making sure all was going according to plan. By any metric, it was going swimmingly- except for the fact that her AST was now reporting two new contacts, unidentified in nature and on a most concerning approach. She sighs, looking to her comms officer.
"Hail the other ships assisting towing. Inform them that the Lokranitz will be taking precautionary maneuvers, and request whichever ship with the longest range communications suite to hail the vessels. Send word to the engineering team."
"As you command."
The helmsman looked back to his Lord Commander, holding his breath in apprehension as Ekrowik's fins fluttered with disgruntlement.
"We cannot afford to take any chances. Helmsman, emergency ballast. I want every ounce of buoyancy we can get."
"It shall be done, my liege."
There was two distinct clacks as the engine-order-telegraph clicked forwards once, then twice. A hefty level crashed back, and a buzzer moaned warning as the ship's kolleronic plasma reserves were being rapidly energized by a now overworked nuclear reactor.
The engineering team was, decidedly, somewhat cautious after realizing that Duran had not only heard, but understood them. They looked amongst themselves, and were decidedly much more wary of their actions. There was a lurch as the Lokranitz suddenly attempted to speed up their ascent with its violent increase in power output. A small string of paper was printed out from the radio carried by the Mapper.
There was a silent pause as the strip was passed around, with the engineers looking amongst themselves. They all took turns passing glances at the smiling captain. They felt unnerved; they were told to take caution, which meant that the Lokranitz had to have had some reason to be concerned, and now were informed of the employment of emergency ballast. The driller spoke with masked suspiscion.
"Did you summon those approaching vessels, captain? Their intercept course is of some concern."
“While we can’t help pull you out of the Meridian when we get to the surface, we have fuel to spare from our stocks. We also have spares aboard, but I can’t promise they’ll be compatible,” she said, her tone implying a hint of openness.
She nodded at Duran’s assurance that they would reach the surface soon, then turned to her men. It was almost surreal to her that it had been this easy and how lucky they were that someone had survived on board. “See if you can get a message back; tell them to expect us soon.”
One man gave her a light affirmative in response.
The words of the Herskal driller made her reconsider her thoughts. She heard the suspicion in the driller’s tone but kept it calm. She didn’t turn to face Duran, rationalising that she had misjudged the man the first time they had met, and that maybe these were friends of his. Regardless, Toshiko knew that it was best if she kept her guard up. She tried to look as unnasuming as posssible, but mentally tuned-in to hear where the conversation went.
Akira and her handmaidens would follow with the others also still wary at the strangeness of whats going on, Rico and Nara would exchange a brief glance when he stops to take a message.
Akiri: "Well, the ancerium we got isnt the best quality due to the shortages going round, but suppose you'll be fine with." Going through the hand motions as she talks, she press the button for the scanner of her braclet to be active on silent mod, just in case like shes holding her wrists breifly. Akiri: "Rico, Nara.. would you please.. send a message to the tanker to get ready." She smiles to her aids.
The exchange another glance and active a com, exchanging mumbles and talk in kokyrian before nodding back to Akiri with a smile. Nara: "Done~" Rico: "They said that getting ready."
What they really had said between messaging the tanker, was hint at their science ship to turn on its suite scanners and boost it to get as much information as possible of their surroundings, its crew concentrating on the recording and data stacks as the tanker crew ready themselves.
Akiri: "But as said.. we are new to this galaxy, have yet to make any impact or acquainted friends." She and her aids play along, still a bit skeptical as they are unfamilar with how odd this looks, it crosses her mind that he could of hacked it and hijacked the ship as a passing thought.
Ko'Kyrian sample: "Ni ni, shalo na.. ko shii."
There was a shudder as the vessel broke into realspace, the various systems and attachments proving very effective and pulling the stricken Union vessel out of the Meridian. The breach was quick, the entire ship bursting free in a display of light and radiation. Once free it was obvious that this was not a conventional Union design, already the situation got tense as some Ancerium was transferred over.
At last those on board were escorted off the ship, shown as little as possible through a route that seemed to take them in circles to disorientate them, but upon returning to the Meridian breaching shuttles they would be distributed back across to their various ships.
Several disturbances, akin to very brief FTL transits were detected nearby, but sensors picked up either background noise or minor readings. Concerns of stealth vessels abounded even as the Carnaithian Prowler analysed everything it could.
With a very brief curt message indicating its thanks, the vessel they had rescued activated a warp drive and sped away, followed by several other warp signatures from where the sensor ghosts had been. The Union didnt use an abundance of stealth ships.
The question then was what had they encountered?
All were lucky to be alive, the deep recovery had almost led them to discovering dark secrets of the Unions Reserve Administration.