Exhack
Inactive Member
ON, VSV Astarte
Navpoint Antilla, Near Draseed System
Bukor 26, 936
8:20, Commonwealth Standard Time
A single ship, alone in the avoid, plied the cosmos towards a single star resting on the very edge of a people's knowledge of space. The Astarte's mission had not lasted for more than a few weeks before the trail led them to the supposed homeworld of the NVR and the seat of their power. The emissions of tens of thousands of ship drives, many more than the Iromakuanhe had ever known lit the beacon for the small fleet's approach towards the system where their greatest enemy. Here, they would defeat that dark mirror of their own society and return them to the fold, ensuring eternal security and sovereignty for their people.
Operation Midwinter was underway.
The Marranr Serhan Nejem sat at his station on the bridge, longing for the opportunity to return to the field of battle, longing to bring the war to a swift resolution and return home to his daughter. He had run over the simulations hundreds of times, swallowed the possibility of attrition and accepted the eventual losses, willing to bear them on his conscience. Everyone on the ship was a resource being put to the task of war, and all were expendable to a degree, himself included.
He didn't have very long to stew in his thoughts, and found himself being addressed by the adjutants on shift. A mousy-haired woman keying on the sensors approached him, her hair still slightly wet from immersion in the interface pod. "Excuse me, Lanranr, but the reinforcements from the capital have arrived."
"Thank you for informing me. I'll be sure to keep my wetware keyed to the network until the operation begins." The officer nodded and adjusted his glasses, glancing over the analog displays before reaching out to the network with senses provided through external implants connected to the ship's informational network.
He then pulled on that same link, transmitting concepts and ideas encoded as language (the easiest sort of information for a biological to conceptualize) and communicated to the ship's central informational construct, the NI Ishtar. "Ishtar, inform the runners to prepare and be in the hangar in twenty minutes and raise the official mission grade to A1 on fleet channels."
"We are at war."
Navpoint Antilla, Near Draseed System
Bukor 26, 936
8:20, Commonwealth Standard Time
A single ship, alone in the avoid, plied the cosmos towards a single star resting on the very edge of a people's knowledge of space. The Astarte's mission had not lasted for more than a few weeks before the trail led them to the supposed homeworld of the NVR and the seat of their power. The emissions of tens of thousands of ship drives, many more than the Iromakuanhe had ever known lit the beacon for the small fleet's approach towards the system where their greatest enemy. Here, they would defeat that dark mirror of their own society and return them to the fold, ensuring eternal security and sovereignty for their people.
Operation Midwinter was underway.
The Marranr Serhan Nejem sat at his station on the bridge, longing for the opportunity to return to the field of battle, longing to bring the war to a swift resolution and return home to his daughter. He had run over the simulations hundreds of times, swallowed the possibility of attrition and accepted the eventual losses, willing to bear them on his conscience. Everyone on the ship was a resource being put to the task of war, and all were expendable to a degree, himself included.
He didn't have very long to stew in his thoughts, and found himself being addressed by the adjutants on shift. A mousy-haired woman keying on the sensors approached him, her hair still slightly wet from immersion in the interface pod. "Excuse me, Lanranr, but the reinforcements from the capital have arrived."
"Thank you for informing me. I'll be sure to keep my wetware keyed to the network until the operation begins." The officer nodded and adjusted his glasses, glancing over the analog displays before reaching out to the network with senses provided through external implants connected to the ship's informational network.
He then pulled on that same link, transmitting concepts and ideas encoded as language (the easiest sort of information for a biological to conceptualize) and communicated to the ship's central informational construct, the NI Ishtar. "Ishtar, inform the runners to prepare and be in the hangar in twenty minutes and raise the official mission grade to A1 on fleet channels."
"We are at war."