Homeworld 2: Sector Patrol - Chp. IIIb complete
 

Summary, before starting

This inane collection of randomly placed words is meant to complement the Point Defense Systems modification which can be found in Tanis Shipyards/Completed Mods, and thus will not match the stock game depiction [of both HW1&2] in some cases. This variation will increase as the fiction goes on, which will also go against many of the popular sci-fi beliefs.

The Republicans will make an appearance, based on another mod, located here:
http://forums.relicnews.com/showthr...20&pagenumber=1


Introduction:

The blue-grey-painted hull glides effortlessly through the cold vacuum of space, yet another example of technological innovation shown by sentient life - if you can't survive a certain environment, build something to protect you from it. Although this is a rather advanced example only possible after many millennia of technological development [in most cases], this concept is entirely similar to the fashioning of primitive leather-over-wood canoes to traverse rivers, negating the need of getting oneself wet and neutralizing to an extent limitations to physical capability. The humanoid stature, after all, isn't that hydrodynamic or suited to living underwater at all.

As the vessel continues on, gliding without resistance and her outline silhouetted against the starfield, more details become readily apparent. While travel over previously impassable medium will undoubtedly spur exploration, trade, development, or even contact with other nations or species there eventually leads to the appearance of raiders seeking profit from these peaceful ventures. From then on comes the requirement of protecting one's assets from these marauders, then followed on to seizing or destroying vessels of hostile factions - or from those weaker. Obviously few can resist the lure of new sources of profit - as the same with those marauders mentioned above. Being civilized is no better, it seems.

Thus born is the ship of war - first classes of which are ultimately more aggressively named and outfitted versions of trading vessels, gradually accommodating technological developments and leading to a whole new subject - naval warfare. But this isn't meant to be some kind of history lecture, or is it too late to make that claim?

Batteries of turreted weaponry mar the sleek outline of the massive, blade-like starship while huge panels of armour plate fitted to her external hull look as if they were pasted on by a child. Tiny rows of lights from recessed sections of the hull look as if they were sandwiched by armour plate in a most uncomfortable fashion. The aft section is even worse, and it looks as if someone had decided to cut a rectangular section through the entire beam of the ship, then as an afterthought stick on heat exchanger arrays, the navigation bridge out one side of the hull, then as the final touch on the painting make the vessel belch torches of blue out the back end. What poor taste.

However from the naval engineer's point of view the appearance and design of the above ship made perfect sense with regards to her function. Function and practicability, after all, is far more important than suiting the masses' desire for good appearance, how practical is that? Even more importantly, this class of vessel is the result of generations of continual research and development. As revolutionary as the discovery of fire, the battleship marks the pinnacle of technological development in naval warfare, only opposed by enemy ships of the same class. Of course technology doesn't ever stop advancing and eventually the huge and mighty battlewagon is put into obsolescence and the ship graveyard, but that kind of ruins the present setting and style of wordplay, doesn't it?



Old and New:

Sizable banks of attitude control thrusters send out plumes of gas spaceward, as with Newton's law every action has an equal and opposite reaction, causing the massive vessel to change it's orientation with graceful majesty. The forward battery starts to swivel to starboard, as the primary weaponry mounted aft near the engineering section follows suit. Smaller, secondary weapons can be seen scanning for targets, covering a much larger arc and with a significantly superior rate of tracking and fire, obviously are meant to defend against smaller hostiles.

Moments later a pair of white-blue beams of energy slice through the vacuum, and it seems the vessel at the centre of our attention is in trouble, as the beam starts to burn at her fore section, creating a large display of fireworks and gaseous discharge as material on the outer hull is vaporized. As the vessel continues to alter it's orientation a rough line is scored across her surface - the armour plating, however, is just meant to have its outer layer vaporize in the event of enemy fire. This is particularly effective against directed energy weaponry, as the resulting cloud of gases and debris tend to absorb the beam's energy themselves, and multiple layers of ultra-dense ceramic composites under the ablative layer defend against kinetic weaponry, while remaining capable of flexing under impact instead of fracturing or shattering outright like conventional steel with high hardness values.

The torches at the aft end of the warship flare with multiplied intensity, propelling the vessel forwards relative to it's orientation, towards the source of incoming fire. A salvo of bright yellow plasma-coated kinetic rounds follow the dissipation of the beams, but these merely strike the hull at a high angle and ricochet harmlessly, the magnetic containment of the plasma field rupture on impact, creating explosive flashes in the silence of the vacuum and resulting burn marks on the target's paint, but otherwise totally ineffective whatsoever.

Attitude control thrusters fire once more, fine-tuning the ship's trajectory towards her assailant [or prey?] as she seemed to calmly withhold fire at the opposition, but accelerating towards the enemy as though giving them a final chance to cease and desist. The enemy vessel comes into view, brightly painted in yellow and red, impressive in it's bulky, blocky appearance and studded with large turrets on its nose and side hull weapon batteries, none other than an Imperialist Taiidani Qwaar-Jet class heavy cruiser. The once majestic, all-powerful cruiser, however, is outclassed by her present company. The blade-like form of the battlewagon seems to slice at the shape of the enemy, all turrets tracking, and the enemy cruiser jinks about nervously, spewing out plumes of gases from her thrusters.

A second salvo spews forth from the Qwaar-Jet, but like the first, totally ineffective - the lower fore ion beam turret failed to even track properly due panicky evasive maneuvers taken by the parent ship, their energy charge spent illuminating the surrounding area and nothing else. The blade-like battleship had it's trajectory offset somewhat, and she passes the port bow of the enemy cruiser as it attempts to keep it's nose and primary weaponry to bear on target, but to no avail - the angular rate is too high, and all, it's weaponry are forward-firing. Like all Exodus-era ships the Qwaar-Jet has no secondary or point-defense weapons.

The menacing form of the battlewagon accelerates out of the primary firing arc of the cruiser, and her emblem of what looks like a white pair of wings outspread over a small sphere comes into view as if depicting mythical angels watching over a world, along with the hull number 04 beside - this would be interpreted by proper command/control equipment [or personnel] as "HGN-04 Prince of Hiigara [BCI]", which is in layman's terms, would mean that this vessel is second only to the Mothership, and that it is designated "Battlecruiser, Ion cannon primary armament". Considering the role of the Hiigaran Navy, their emblem appears rather fitting.

Bright orange plumes flare from HGN-04's forward kinetic turrets, as the combination plasma/massdriver weapons discharge their loads at the side hull of the enemy cruiser, bypassing completely their thicker forward plating. Striking the cruiser in the upper fore section, the kinetic core of the shot had no trouble penetrating the external armour plate, as it struck at nearly perpendicular an angle. Magnetic containment of the plasma component rupture as the round impacts, creating an incendiary effect as a yellow flash ensues. The midships portside kinetic turret follows up, adding another pair of scorched hull breaches on the cruiser, which is still attempting to swing it's nose towards the opponent. Kinetic weaponry is one of the few weapon systems spared the winds of change, typically consisting of a massdriver firing solid metallic slugs, and a second system that forms and deploys a ring of magnetically contained superheated plasma at the same velocity as the massdriver round.

This creates both an effect equivalent to tracer in an atmosphere, and adds a secondary incendiary/explosive effect on impact. Obviously the heat of the plasma would result in a metallic slug being vaporized after some time or lead to reduction in impact performance, and this is countered by materials technology [a dense penetrator core surrounded by ablative material] and the very short range at which space combat is executed in the present state of technology - and to enable actually holding critical volumes of space one must roughly match the orbital track of the objective then intercept it. Closing rapidly for a high speed attack to maximize impact velocity is not only hazardous if your vessel is a capital-class behemoth with ample momentum, but ineffective for the limited muzzle velocity of shipborne autoloading massdrivers as the result of size constraints; and missiles needing to save fuel for maneuverability purposes instead of accelerating as fast as their fuel loads and engine output would allow - else they'd fall victim to simple evasive maneuvers. Fusion-powered missiles also require a constant expenditure of premix fuel as they're far too small to support self-sustaining fusion torches, thus while able to keep up with fusion-powered ships they, again, are inferior in range. Exceptions exist in history, and with planet-borne strategic orbital defense or heavy siege weaponry of course.

The aft turret vomits a pair of large, anti-capital vessel torpedoes, which leisurely accelerate towards the forward portside pair of massdriver turrets on command guidance, destroying them in an impressive display of pyrotechnics and a slew of red-hot metallic debris. It looked as if something took a bite out of the large turrets, and a ruptured plasma line spews out its contents for a few moments before automated damage control systems shut off the flow.

As though waiting for the kinetic and missile weaponry to finish taking their toll, the primary heavy ion cannon armament of the battlewagon finally is put to use. Blue glows of the dorsal accelerator coils powering up illuminate the muzzles for a second before brilliant blue-white beams lance out at the Imperialist vessel's engineering section, the intense stream of charged particles methodically burning their way through the ship and anything in their path. An explosion issues forth on the other side of the vessel, as the dual beams penetrate cleanly through the entire width of it, then scythe their way towards the fusion drives. The ventral heavy ion cannon battery then follows up the attack where the dorsal beams left off, as the kinetic cannons fire their second broadside along with the point-defense pulsar and small-calibre automatic cannons, but these merely glance off the cruiser's armour plating.

Unlike the old Qwaar-Jet and Avatar heavy cruisers which have their primary beam weaponry mounted at the farthest possible location from the power sources - the ship's fusion drives, HGN-04's primary weaponry are extensions of the engineering section of the ship, with most of their components internal to the hull, which translates to a much higher possible power output, efficiency and better survivability, although the turrets where the beams are actually fired from through magnetic shunting can be immobilized with precision attacks. This is the tradeoff for almost 360 degree traverse capability and resulting tactical flexibility.

The results of multiple hull breaches showing plainly, leaking atmosphere and massive damage towards the aft section, the fusion torches of the Qwaar-Jet flame out as part of the engine cowling detaches from the ship, joining the array of debris of all sizes arranged around their origins, slowly distancing themselves from their former positions. Automatic stabilization systems fire thrusters to stabilize the ship, preventing it tumbling in the frictionless vacuum, while damage control crew, systems and robotics attempt to bring disabled systems back online and preserve integrity and life support system operation in populated compartments but without fusion power the cruiser is totally helpless. Yet another case of the new generation meeting the old.

Her opposition out of action, Prince of Hiigara continues her course as sensor and fire control crews scan for other hostiles, but by now you might wonder just why the two combatants had encountered each other, amongst other questions…

This is incredible! I want more!

Keep it coming....

guns. big big big guns. Add more guns

This introduction is merely a teaser - I intend not to focus on the biggest and the best, but what would it be like to "live" on one of those HW2 ships, without resorting to sci-fi typical beliefs about artificial gravity negating G effects of maneuvering and physical results of space travel, anti-grav drives, etc, not my style :)

Chapter 1 is underway - should be quite surprising a change from the above picture :)

Indeed, please do. I often wonder what it would look in a Homeworld ship. I imagine it to be dark and industrial in most places, as can be seen in the movies of HW and HW:C (conduits along walls, open system access panels, pipes etc.). They seem to suggest a industrial, spartan feel to the ships. Refreshing considering how "clean" star trek and occasionally even star wars look

Update:

Chp.2 [working title "Lady's Lament"] is underway.

Chapter II - Automation, C&C and the Lady's Lament
 

Final editing - no more spelling errors. Added some more content.

Chapter IIa: Automation

Captaining a vessel is never easy, especially if you're considering an almost 2-kilometre long behemoth like the Prince of Hiigara, which most personnel would never have a single chance to even see the ship itself if not assigned to the same task force as her, much less ever set foot on the "boat". At least for the real ship - simulated virtual reality interiors are an entirely different story.

Anyone who has had the opportunity to take up a position of leadership, ignoring styles of which for the moment, may depict how to maximize his or her group's strengths by efficient and coordinated use of resources at hand, while at the same time minimizing weaknesses by getting subordinates to look out for each other. This applies no matter the scope or scale, and a warship captain in space combat generally thinks about that in much the same manner as an infantry squad leader, abeit in a much different environment, and as aforementioned, scope and scale. And this not even considering taskforce or even fleet level operations.

As you increase the scale of leadership, the potential for trouble gets exponentially larger. There are far more factors to consider in a warship that is capable of housing and supporting up to half a thousand personnel and twice that number of robotics assets, than in a 10-man infantry squad. And far more complexity - a capital warship can be said as an orchestra, success of which depends on coordination between it's components. Miscoordination or failure of one component might mean the difference between a well-played piece of music and being fired. For the latter result it can get much more than a literal meaning or an appointment with your manager in actual naval warfare.

Everyone would also be familiar with how unmanageable the number of ship systems can be as the size of a vessel increases, eventually even computer automation is not feasable, and command staff would number hundreds. Both generations of Motherships required a living core to facilitate operation. But we are not covering the topic of Mothership-class command and control here, nor is this meant to frighten the reader as a techno-horror story, if there is even such a thing.

The second trait of sentient life is that in most cases, intelligence permitting, that they will continually refine their findings in order to reduce risks and simplify generally complicated procedures as proficiency in the given field progresses. It is after all illogical to refuse the opportunity to be able to kill two, or more birds with a single stone. Likewise commanders of large ships do not wish to settle for communication paralysis as that is what would occur if they would attempt reinforcing a standard of single-point leadership over an entire city. It is just not possible unless you do not mind an extremely short term of office with a prospect of a rather brutal result. Thus you have terms like first mate, quartermaster, et cetera, abeit those terms are for water-bound sailships of the past. Sub-commanders responsible for certain aspects of the vessel manage those sections on the captain's behalf while under the chain of command, enabling the higher ranking personnel to focus on a larger picture like a conductor of an orchestra would.

Take away the individual instruments and their players of an orchestra and you've nothing worth listening to, and with no conductor a large number of players merely create noise. They're interdependent, and like every leader would know, motivation and morale play a critical part in everything.

With computer and robotics technology you can ease matters farther - provided your naval engineering has kept pace. Skipping the rest of the lecture, this is the sole reason for incredibly tiny crew requirements found in Hiigaran vessels of the current generation. Where older engineering personnel would recall having to work in huge reactor control rooms as part of the engineering crew to keep the fusion torches at optimal form and to mirror the ship's power and propulsive requirements, amongst other things, virtually all these aspects are now fully automated - artificial intelligence monitor their assigned parameters based on their programming, coordinating with AI's of higher "rank" as necessary, robotic systems take the place of the man in the hazard suit. Engineering sections of a ship can be still manned and operated manually as per tradition or necessity if required, as no AI is perfect and at times a sentient is required "in the loop", but otherwise for normal operating parameters the engineering sections are sealed off.

The same treatment is given to other divisions of a starship, including that of sensors, weaponry, resourcing and materials, ship control, to name a few systems. And indeed Prince of Hiigara can, with the right authorization and equipment, function as a fully remote-controlled entity. It is never in the soul of a Hiigaran to constrain adaptability especially with regards to technology, and HGN [Hiigaran Navy] vessels possess a good reputation in that arena.

But who in the right mind would willingly put such a grand ship in a state of remote control? In the event of boarding action she'd be in the hands of her automated defenses, which, although as far as automated security systems go they cannot be improved farther, even the most advanced combatant robot would be inevitably outsmarted by the Marine in zero-gravity powered armour - they simply can't figure out the wonderful utility of tossing grenades around corners before attempting to assault the next room or corridor, or when to do that or not, after all. Alternatively electronics specialists would locate and secure a suitably vulnerable and centralized enough data bus or conduit and start hacking to their heart's content after dealing with whatever encryption you use. What a way to lose the boat.

The second problem is that of remote control. Datalinks can be made virtually "unjammable" and a combination of AI assistance, remote piloting, and a well-configured holographic interface gives as good a feeling of "immersion" as being on the vessel itself, but anything remote-controlled still has the datalink and remote control systems remaining a vulnerability. Not to mention these measures are limited to short-range, both due to the limited speed of light causing latency over distances, and that to transmit a signal farther one must emit larger amounts of energy. Which hinders survivability of your ship for obvious reasons.

I wonder who would need a drone battleship or employ such a valuable asset in that role. Yet it is very wise to provide or retain capabilities that don't make sense in the present so long as they do not hinder performance, as in the future or an unorthodox scenario they might just save lives. Finally, I don't think anyone requires a reminder of that debacle of fitting atmospheric fighters with only missile armament complemented with the prediction that manned fighter aircraft would "soon" be made obsolete by interceptor missiles, do I?


Chapter IIb: Command and Control

The battle management complex of a Hiigaran capital vessel is an awe-inspiring sight to behold, even more so if its of a BCI, and the ultimate wet dream of technologically-oriented young folks except perhaps for obscure items of pleasure best left out of this discussion. A gigantic viewscreen two stories high and 12 meters wide stretched across the front of the "command pit" displays a gigantic fully customizable and programmable mosaic of composite sensor fusion data, AI interfaces, text logs, ship and logistics status, and a simulated external view of the vessel and it's immediate surroundings currently take up the middle of the display. It is panned towards the rear at the moment, depicting HGN-04 leaving behind an Imperialist cruiser in a very bad shape. They can't see eye to eye, I guess. An overlay is active over the simulated scene, visually displaying the different ship classes on-scene with unique icons overlaid on both vessels along with simplified velocity vectors. Green bars placed over subsystems and the two hulls depict a computer estimate of systems efficiency based on either shipboard relays from their respective AIs, allied tactical datalink or in the case of hostile vessels, emissions and behaviour - it shows near 100% across the board for the BCI, 0% for the Qwaar-Jet class. "Flameouts" are automatically rendered non-combat effective for targeting priority against active hostile vessels. This AI, too, along with that of most ship compartments and subsystems, can be customized by the command staff or personnel with proper authorization and access to control interfaces.

Sensitive equipment requiring precise operating parameters or those subject to classification or requirements of security still do use the "ancient" black-box and avionics bay approach spun off from aerospace engineering trends still viable today, or alternatively in the case of specialized systems requiring an independent, fully powered operating platform, are assembled as external mission-specific modules on the aft section of the ship. Jettisonable external weapon systems of various calibre and type can also be deployed from those hardpoints for enhanced tactical flexibility and firepower, along with the required support infrastructure for those modules - certain volumes of internal space are deliberately left empty in "template" configuration for that purpose. Of course, right now torpedo tubes are installed. These external modules can be assembled "in the field", provided the on-board Robotic Materials foundry in the engineering section is operational and the necessary elements and mass of which are available in the ship's resource bays. The arrangement on the BCI is practically a scaled-down, more specialized version of the construction facilities available on Mothership and Carrier-class starships. This vessel however is not fitted for resource and salvage operation basing - it would be wasteful to employ it as such and detrimental to survivability for the specialized external docking ports required, thus materials delivery are done by resupply vessels. Like on the Fleet's production vessels construction materials are shipped as their constituent elements in atomic form. A lot of things previously called “sorcery” can be brought into reality as science advances. Except perhaps spellcasting. Leave that in fiction.

Before the main display are placed control consoles arranged in departments and according to their role. The fire control consoles naturally are located beside the row of sensor operator stations, behind that is hangar and launch control. The other side of the central aisle running across the command pit deal with the more "peaceful" subsystems. Most of these consoles are unmanned at this time, save for a couple of engineering division crew monitoring fusion efficiency and stability of the multiple fusion torches which must pulse at a certain rate and be shaped in such a manner as not to place excessive stress on the ship's structure no matter the engine thrust and power output required.

Located nearest to the main "wall" display but still at a comfortable viewing distance is the helm, or ship control station. The layout of this station would be completely alien to any water-borne ship crew, as maneuvering in space requires operation in all three dimensions.

A small holographic projector displays a wireframe render of the vessel relative to its environment and nearby contacts in a fully movable and pannable view for each of the two helm crew integrated and overlaid with various data and navigation displays, providing far better spatial perception than a traditional cockpit. The portside control station has farther multifunction heads-down displays [MFDs], and is equipped with dual control sticks arranged tilted towards each other and towards the user so that a humanoid of normal height can naturally grip them in a sitting position, and also rudder pedals. The port stick controls attitude control thrusters in linear mode, and the starboard one rotational mode as per HGN preferences, while the pedals control yaw like in aerospace craft. Numerous buttons dot the control sticks and console, located at intuitive positions to minimize workload - hat and rocker switches on the control sticks manipulate the holographic projector's settings and view control, while thruster control software settings can be altered on the fly to suit various flight conditions using either the touchscreen MFDs or certain control stick buttons programmed specifically for that purpose, this is a relatively short summary on operation of this particular station.

The starboard seat of the ship control station is specialized for main engine thrust management and is linked to the engine management systems. Teamwork is essential to maneuver a massive capital vessel, and fighting it requires no less than full coordination with the rest of the command staff; each of the command crew has a distinct role.

Identical seats are provided for each control console including those for the command staff around a larger holographic projection system typically used to display a sensor fusion view of surrounding space called a "sensors manager view" for situational awareness and coordination with and/or direction of allied assets. Each seat is upholstered in synthetic black leather and almost excessively comfortable even when the 4-point harnesses are engaged. From Frigate to Super-Capital class naval vessels, components of the battle management suite are identical, save for size and configuration of the complex affected by vessel role and internal space availability, thus the restraint harnesses are actually meant to keep Frigate personnel in their seats as they execute close combat maneuvers up to 7Gs in intensity. While a larger vessel would not pull structural loads that high for the reasons of inertia, they are good to have and they sure do dispel the rather comical myth that when under fire "bridge" crews get tossed about the room like rag dolls while consoles go up in sparks as if loaded with explosives as seen in some series of surprisingly popular movies that virtually go against logic and realism. Restraint harnesses as also required as artificial gravity is impractical except in recreational areas, otherwise they hamper operations and movement, thus almost the entire vessel is in zero gravity. Why walk when you can kick off a wall and fly? While at action stations all loose objects must be secured [preferably way beforehand] to reduce the hazard of debris, and the necessity to clean up your accommodations after the fur, amongst other things, stop flying.

Now, another myth that starships [and at times applied to waterborne ships as well] that can be taken out of action if the bridge is taken out, is again illogical - here's why:

In modern times and especially in capital-class starfaring warships the navigation bridge is unmanned and all control systems therein are isolated from the ship, with personnel and maintenance passages sealed. With all respects, the navigation bridge can be rammed or shot away without affecting the vessel's performance at all. As the ship is fought and managed from the battle management complex in the innards of the ship under multiple layers of bulkhead, armour belts, and automated defenses, this negates the probability of losing your entire command staff as some hotshot fighter pilot flying for the enemy decides to plant a few armour piercing munitions through the bridge transparency, or them captured right from the commencement of a hostile forced boarding action - straight into the bridge section.

While these causes are less serious in the case of waterborne naval warfare due to its slower pace [at least until missiles start flying], the same concept of a centralized battle management facility away from the vulnerability of the bridge is followed, and called a "combat information centre" or CIC for short.














Chapter IIc: Lady's Lament

"The Imperial cruiser just sent out an emergency distress call...we need some comms. jammers on this thing."
"Or blow that ancient thing up completely."
"Too late for that, Gunner."
"They'll be sure to send a force over - recommend we report to fleet and call in backup, or withdraw."
"Good call Tactical - Comms, prepare the FTL transmission buoy. Make sure you get the vector for the burst transmission correct this time."
"Aye captain... stand by... ready on the FTL."
"Starboard battery, prepare to target outbound. Lower starboard quarter... bearing 120 elevation minus 32... 500 meters per second."
"Ready."
"Deploy FTL."
"Buoy away. 4 seconds to clear our magnetic signature.... 3....2..."
"Tracking"
"1... transmitted"
"Shot away!"
"Target destroyed."

"Good job.. Sensors, anything?"
"Negative sir, nothing on the passive intercept either - shall I take arrays to active?"
"Negatory on that, we'll light ourselves up like a supernova and they'll see us far before entering detection range."
"We have incoming FTL from Fleet.... and a weak distress call, triangulated range 5 light-minutes at our 11 o'clock position. Repeating. No video ID."
"Dump the FTL on mainscreen and try to put the distress on speaker."

One of the communications personnel places the FTL message on one corner of the main screen amid the other displays, it reads:

"BE ADV - STELLAROCC VAGYR BCFG TF IN VINCINITY TIME 1 HR AGO
OUTER ORBIT FR. YOUR LOC EST 8LM RNG
OTR HGN RESV ASSETS N/A - DO NOT MAKE CONTACT, WITHDRAW."

Meanwhile a scratchy radio transmission heavily laced with static of the distress call plays, with a female voice:

"...is... Republican freighter...... er.... att....Vagyr Str....aft.....tak... mg..... require.... immed... sstance.... repe...-"

"Tactical - what do you think? Should we withdraw, or attempt to assist?"
"3LMs translation in 1 hour on conventional drives in the combined plot of our orbital trajectories checks out fine to me, but if they wished to seize or destroy the freighter they'd prefer to hyperspace right on top of it at the same realspace velocity… like they did with Captain Soban during the Vagyr Invasion. Otherwise we can expect a detachment up to Frigate-class from the battlegroup harassing the transport, not the big ship, yet."
"Right...."
"Hangar control, has our SC wing finished rearm and repairs?"
"They're all done, standing by."

"Good. That Republican isn't going to last long, so let's not dally - Comms, get a second FTL out, report the distress call and it's location, see if they can get anything out from their stellar occlusion analysis regarding said freighter. Tell them we're going to do a limited armed recon with our support craft… Hangar, Strikecraft prepare for immediate launch... Navigation, plot hyperspace coordinates... Sensors, coordinate with Nav. and our hyperspace transit, transmit a focused pulse along our hyperspace transit route so we receive the reflections as we exit to realspace.. Helm, orient for hyperspace transit and confirm ready state. We'll do what we can but avoid contact with the Vagyr battlewagon. Gunners, expect up to Frigate-class opposition with predominantly Strikecraft force composition... Jettison starboard torpedo battery and deploy submunition projector as we exit."

A flurry of acknowledgements from various staff follow the string of orders given by the captain as the FTL transmission procedure is repeated - launch the buoy, transmit and then scuttle the device to prevent it falling into less desirable hands. Using active sensors in such a manner, when well-timed and positioned, can provide the ship with an instant picture of its surroundings as it exits hyperspace, making use of the limited speed of light, although as mentioned passive detection range of active sensor emissions are a few times farther than it's actual detection range, as the pulse needs to travel to a target, then reflect back at a high enough intensity to be registered by the receivers. It is always the nature of the universe to have a tradeoff between everything. The reply from the Fleet indicated no contact regarding the Republican transport and wished good luck.

The sensors officer transmits a focused wave of energy along the hyperspace transit route on his own timing, and a couple minutes later the blue rectangle of the quantum wavefront appears before the computer-generated external view of the HGN-04. By instinct, the command crew brace themselves, but none of the feelings associated with hyperspace transition took hold.

Prince of Hiigara exits its state of quantum tunneling some distance away from the triangulated source of the distress signal that should be within visual acquisition range, and the active sensor pulse swept through the area on time. However...

"Sir, there's nothing here"
"I see that, strange. No debris around even..."
"Shall I deploy the proximity sensor?"
"Strikecraft wing, clear for launch, set patrol waypoints for them ahead of us but keep them close. Helm, move us ahead to the source of that distress call - I sincerely doubt that a freighter can simply disappear entirely. Turrets to all-round cover."
"This is Engineering, your submunition projector is deployed on starboard aft hardpoint."
"Thank you."
"There is still nothing here."
"I don't like this."
"No one would."
"Either everyone's cloaked or there's a space prankster about. I hope for the latter. Who has heard of a battlecruiser filing a complaint with the local authorities?" Obviously joking of course.
"Proximity sensor sir?"
"Yes. Launch it." A bit too late.
"Roger, give me 15 seconds."
"We have an incoming transmission, extremely high signal strength, it's close by somewhere."
"Patch it through!"
"No video - on speaker."

The following was obviously well-rehearsed, but nevertheless the icy cold edge to it brought chill to the bones of those sitting in the "pit".
"Ahh... how very nice of you to join me for... dinner! So how will we like Hiigaran dogs tonight then ladies and gentlemen - medium rare perhaps?"

One of the comms officers decided to reply.
"You wench! Show yourself! Where is the Republican freighter!?"

"[cold laugh] How very charming of you, -boy-. You Hiigaran dogs are so predictable and soft-hearted. Why don't you surrender to me. I'd love you kissing my feet!"

"..err.."

"Cut that thing out, we have Vagyr Strikecraft inbound, multiple vectors!"
"All hands action stations, prepare for incoming fire! Strikecraft, defensive counter!"
"Roger that.... 04 to Alpha 1... set formation..." etc.
"Helm, evasive maneuver, portside low."
"Copy that. Ahead flank!"
"All kinetics and secondaries clear to open fire - primaries stand by for capital targets."
"And get that damn proximity sensor up, where the [censored] are they coming from?!"
"Working on it!"
"Work faster! Hyperspace?"
"Sir, inhibitor field just went up, we're stuck. They're jamming both FTL and radio transmissions on all frequencies."
"Damn!"
"Opening fire."

Moral of the story, distress calls can be rather inviting in a bad way.
Led by heavy "destroyer" fighters, Vagyr Strikewings converged on HGN-04 from multiple directions from "above" relative to her present orientation as point-defense fire cut through the incoming formations, occasionally deflecting off the heavy frontal armour of the leading fighter craft as the swerve about in a controlled manner on lateral thrusters, drawing fire away from the lighter, more specialized craft behind them.

The simulated 3-dimensional sensor fusion views, however do not show exact evasive maneuvers but their associated processors interpolate their trajectory such that rapid-fire weaponry connected to the same control net of the ship can have a better chance of hitting the target with a burst aimed at the relative centre of the evasive measures taken than if they had attempted to track the target directly - as most sentient pilots have a penchant for symmetrical jinking or swerving. This predictive measure can be increased in accuracy if there are multiple command systems datalinked with each other for target triangulation, however real-time transmission of fire control data requires a dedicated "fire control module" deployed externally equipped with their own high-bandwidth communications links and data processing systems just for the above task. Against capital-class targets such a measure of network-centric warfare [NCW] can also allow multiple friendly assets to converge fire on for example, a weakpoint on the enemy's armour plating, increasing efficiency and potentially devastating enemy force compositions that do not have ship-to-ship fire coordination. In environments of heavy electronics warfare as the Vagyr would tend to generate the benefit provided by networked targeting is significantly reduced, though a few vessels with interlocked fire control directors are harder to jam than if they were independent.

The so-called Heavy Assault Craft or HACs charged straight at the Hiigaran capital ship, firing their automatic cannons at point-defense installations, then unleashing salvoes of unguided rockets. These, while totally ineffective against heavy armour plating, are useful in suppressing unprotected external components like sensor arrays and fire control directors. HGN-04's aft-mounted submunition launcher answers with a flurry of unguided munitions projected in a shotgun-like cone, crippling a pair of HACs by itself. More of the Vagyr attackers are knocked out by a combination of automatic cannon fire and point defense pulsar beams, while another is completely disintegrated in an orange fireball of fusion plasma, smashed apart by a hit from one of the "Arbiter" class heavy kinetics. The torpedo launchers belch forth a pair of torpedoes, targeted and guided by AI fire control as the ship's sensors detect a flotilla of incoming Frigate-class vessels. As most of the Vagyr wave pulls out from their attack runs in seemingly every direction, firing their attitude control thrusters to alter their trajectory for egress, the Hiigaran Strikecraft attached to the Prince of Hiigara counterattacks from loitering "below" their parent vessel to shield them from fire and detection, Interceptor fighters and Corvettes laying into the exposed rear quarters of the egressing Vagyr like a pack of wolves unleashed on a farmer's herd. Seen in computer-interpreted form on the battle management complex's viewscreen, contacts were classified as they appeared and simulated weapons fire looked surprisingly realistic in a scene of total battlefield chaos, while the sensors manager display was that of green and red dots, which makes for far easier distinction between units and a clear view of the current tactical makeup for decision making.

"Incoming Frigates, 6 o'clock, high, fast."
"Primary weapons tracking... torpedo tubes reloading. Forward battery and torpedo launchers retargeting to engage Frigates."
"Damage report!"
"2 autocannons are offline, dorsal ion turret at 20% efficiency, minor breaches in external dorsal plates, recommend invert to engage Frigates with primary armament"
"Helm, porpoise maneuver!"
"Already done sir."
"Targeting... firing ventral ion cannons... another knocked out... torpedoes away."
"Sensors, have you discerned edge of jamming field or source of attacks? Look for a Carrier."
"You got it - proximity sensor just detected cloaked Carrier right in front of us at this orientation. It seems the source of the jamming. HS Inhibitor a bit farther off on the same vector, can't detect anything there yet."
"I'm hungry."
"Silence, and do not converse with the enemy!"
"Aye sir!"
"They probably expected us to sail into their original attack vectors to try and find their CV, not run away."
"Roger that Tactical. Range?"
"Right in front of us! Ventral guns, engage forward!"
"Helm, close pass to starboard side."

The Vagyr Carrier didn't stand a chance. HGN-04 did her second close pass against an enemy capital vessel, in what was practically point-blank range the 3 dual Arbiter cannon turrets and 4 smaller Frigate-class autocannon systems mounted on the lower side of the ship engaged the Vagyr capital vessel, as it fired small calibre rapid fire cannons in a futile return of firepower. While there seemed to be minimal damage to the Carrier done by the initial salvo - it would take much more than that to destroy a starship hull designed for survivability, many of it's systems failed from the weight of the bombardment and resulting secondary effects of the combination plasma bomb and kinetic shot fired from the big-bore Arbiter turrets. At this close a range even the small calibre autocannons were effective against the Carrier's lighter armour. The Vagyr Carrier design is one of a high systems density, thus unsuited for the role of warship, although several "war optimized" variants exist that flaunt heavy weaponry in excessive numbers of external weapon systems. Those are effective bombardment vessels for the role of combat support or long range armed reconnaissance thanks to extended sensors and rarer-fare electronics warfare suites, while having no change to their internal cargo and ship carrying capacity, however they remain vulnerable in close quarters combat as they share the same layout as their lesser rear echelon brethren.

Those so-called Strike Carriers can also be fitted with engineering support equipment to do double-duty as a mobile repair dock while having enough firepower to deter enemy aggression within a sizable volume of space, and is noted as a change from the typical Vagyr doctrine of highly specialized ship design, probably due to lessons learned during the Invasion, where the Hiigaran Navy countered their superiority in sheer numbers by tactical flexibility and adaptability.

As the Prince of Hiigara passes the aft starboard quarter of the unfortunate prey located at the wrong place at the wrong time, the huge block of the command module finds itself in the field of fire of the pulsar cannons, which are short-ranged laser-based directed energy weapons that are configured to fire in 1-second pulses to regulate thermal output, hence the name. Cyan flashes erupt from the BCI's port side on the 3D view displayed on its battle management display, visual depictions of the coherent light beams otherwise invisible in the visual spectrum proceed to strike the block squarely in the face. The pair of beams dissipate as the weapons' capacitors are exhausted, and a few moments later the second pulse is fired.

Intricately rendered damage and weapon effects can be seen, testament to the Hiigarans' computer technology and processing power in surplus, as the operator in charge of that particular display pans the virtual camera in such a way as to emulate the visuals typically found in the higher-end of movies. He isn't bad at that. The rest of the command crew, however, are too busy staring at their respective console displays and operating the ship's systems to take note. Fingers dance across keyboards and touchscreens while eyes scan rapidly over various displays, the gunnery stations have each of their crews somehow managing multiple weapon systems simultaneously, balancing between automatic engagement and manual direction as optronic sensor feed from the fire control directors and independent systems on turrets confirm their efforts. Tactical command staff situated aft of the "sensors manager" projector monitor progress of the battle, giving orders to their respective charges with verbal transmissions, tactical datalink, or a combination of both. Some of these crews are responsible for optimizing performance of the "ownship", watching over fire assignment of on-board weapon systems and supervising maneuvers relative to the battlespace and it's constituents of chaos, advising helm and fire control crews over the intercom as necessary. And obviously the commanding officer being the usual overlord.

Definitely a trained command crew, orders and reports from various personnel remain controlled and concise, at least most of them, though not giving the image of cold professionals - at least not yet. Veterans ultimately turn out differently to what they were in personality before they'd seen combat action, while their demeanor is then geared towards survival and practicability while generally being more tolerant towards the complaints of lesser experienced personnel [until pushed overboard in sheer irritation], for they had not the chance to understand what they had, it can result in what can be called an invisible separation from the rest of society as the masses tend to judge first, and find reason later. Differing experiences in one's life and the result of certain methods of countering adversity [for example] faced therein also can create such an effect, though by all means each and every one of us are different and it is disrespectful to try and predict and judge on what is, in nature and effect, a dynamic outcome. It constraints development of a community as younger generations are brought up on set ideals and expectations. But enough of this yet another lecture.

"Vagyr forces behind us are regrouping around the Frigate flotilla... we knocked out at range what looks like a pair of Assault Frigates and one missile boat. Looks they're coming back online though."
"That Carrier is out cold, comms. jamming field is down, we can FTL the Fleet."
"Should we hail them sir?"
"We can hold against these yet, I'd prefer to finish the engagement...Tactical, we are still heading right for the source of the hyperspace inhibitor field?"
"At this rate we'd be right on top of them in a few minutes, but we'd be sandwiched between Vagyr Strikewing and... Her. Whatever's ahead of us is still under cloak - their Battlecruiser probably is outfitted with a hyperspace inhibitor module and a cloaking field generator." With some interest in technical specifications you can derive some logical speculation given some light on the situation at hand.
"See any alternatives? I'm not too keen on that date."
"We can't hide, but we can run."
"Eh?"
"Keep engines on full thrust and we can gain enough velocity deviation after a fast pass - they'd naturally be pointed at us right now and have to rotate on thrusters in order to give chase thereby buying us some time - but some Fleet backup would be necessary to break contact with that Strikewing."

Ships, while outfitted with maneuvering thrusters, require the use of their main fusion torches to provide the bulk of their acceleration. Obviously and naturally these are pointed backwards with the exception of "mad scientist" vessels that never make it past the drawing board. The larger the vessel, the more inertia it will possess, hence slower to maneuver - and in some designs slowed even more by the need to constrain rotational acceleration [G load] on different parts of the ship. Long ships are thus extremely unwieldy and reliant on supporting arms to prevent them being outflanked. Even longer and you have a pile of troubles regarding structural integrity due to the simple principle of the lever effect [in layman's terms] creating a weak point in the centre of the structure if width remains constant - it's no wonder why the Progenitor Foundry ship disintegrated. No offense to them of course.

"Very well, call 'em in, and make it snappy - we need support ASAP. Pull our Strikecraft in and have them give us escort. Concentrate fire on enemy Frigates to our rear if they get close enough."
"Aye sir."
"Optimizing proximity sensor sweeps on frontal arc."
"Engines on full burn."
"FTLs away."
"Sir, we've multiple active sensors on passive intercept, forward quarter, we have incoming and are being targeted... classify as a pair of Frigates, and 1 Corvette."
"One?"
"Yes."
"This closure rate will put them in point blank range with us as we breach the cloaking field in about.. 30 seconds."
"Keep accelerating."
"Strikewing at our rear is accelerating towards us on the ventral aft sector, they'll intercept right at the same time.."
"Forward battery realigned to fore quarter coverage. Torpedo launcher to target Frigate at 12 o'clock high."
"Corvette at our 12 o'clock is emitting jamming signals on our fire control frequency."
"Can we lock on to the jammer's position?" Home-on-jam missiles would be useful here.
"Negative sir, but you're forgetting about our Strikecraft."
"Surge them forward then! They've time for one pass then swing them about as fast as possible back to us. Have them relay visual data from past the cloaking perimeter."
"Roger." Conflicting orders can prove deadly, this is no exception. Close escort is also restrictive to Strikecraft - while sweeping patrols make full use of their mobility and are tactically more efficient in many ways, as any student in historical aerospace warfare would relate to. Mistakes, or the "idiot factor", however, frequently show up in stressful situations. It is natural, though the guise of incompetence is not an excuse.
"Vagyr coming in fast from aft quarter in a crescent formation, engaging."
"Strikecraft breaching cloak field, putting visual on mainscreen.. attacking jammer Corvette.... oh crap, retreat, retreat!"
"Status-"
"Hostiles to our rear focusing fire on our fusion engines, estimate control systems can maintain stability for a half-minute or so-"
"They've shut down their cloak, incoming Frigates 12 high, very fast, we're coming up on the enemy BC… from behind."
"Huh!?"
"Incoming heavy missiles from BC, TTI 15 seconds"
"Torpedoes away! Splash one."
"Ion cannons - enemy cruiser, target her engines!"
"Sir, primary turrets are disabled. Engine stability failing, we cannot hold for much longer"
"Second Frigate incoming from '12 high - it’s attacking with EMP!"
"Forward battery - offline, missile impacts midships; secondary turrets, disabled. Most sensors are fried."
"Breach in starboard fusion chamber. Engines' stability lost, automatic safety cutoffs tripped, flameout, repeat, flameout!"
"Enemy Battlecruiser is pulling alongside and matching velocity... Its firing grappling rockets and preparing to board."
"All hands, stand by to repel boarders. Launch the distress beacon."
"We've lost it."
"Well, it might not be that bad being her lapdog!"

Muted laughter ensued from that, and promptly cut short by an announcement:

"Simulation is over, all hands, stand down and prepare for debriefing."

Data displays on the mainscreen are deleted, giving way to a full-sized 3-dimensional view of the simulated battle - both battlewagons are locked to each other as Vagyr craft patrol in a rough circle relative to the capital vessels. Hyperspace tunnels appear in the distance, it is the Hiigaran rescue force, which was soon forced to withdraw after a short skirmish due to lack of combat power, but not before managing to create a rather impressive spectacle of dogfighting Fighters and Corvettes, with Frigates of both sides charging though the furball as they engage their opposing numbers in clumsy dogfights, autocannons blazing.

A small force of escorted Marine transports attempt to outflank the main engagement in order to seize the disabled Vagyr Carrier, but was aborted - it managed to get underway and execute a tactical hyperspace maneuver to rejoin her taskforce flag. It took station to attend to their new acquisition and refit retiring Strikecraft flights as the Vagyr battlewagon starts to move towards the Hiigaran forces, dorsal missile battery launching warheads at enemy Frigates in the dogfight.

One Escort Frigate is caught in a salvo, and disintegrates amid the detonation of fusion plasma explosives while Hiigaran Strikecraft execute a tactical withdrawal as the Vagyr BCFG advances. The rather short sortie concludes with the recovery of all Strikecraft and the Marine detachment forming up with the rest of the Frigates around the Carrier leading the operation in order to set themselves up for a formation hyperspace jump.

With that, the dim red lighting of "battle stations" gave way to a more normal white as I rise from the observer's array of display panels set above the "command pit" and look around. Personnel participating in the command simulation of HGN-04 are starting to half float and walk on magnetic boots towards the debriefing room, while operators of the AI ships involved and the tactical setup are still busy with their virtual charges in the control room behind, with the exception of what looked rather realistically like the director of the opposing Vagyr forces. Dressed in black and floating casually "upside down" relative to the rest of the room and everyone outside the simulator control room with her icy plume of hair bleached white, she seemed rather satisfied with her work and crosses her arms, shrugging off the occasional muted not-fairs uttered from below - not to mention only the Kiith Soban patches on the sleeves of her uniform indicated friendly personnel... Everyone's optical IFF systems tuned on the right frequency and wavelength I hope? [Some otherwise "unmarked" ships do not use markings on the visual spectrum for various reasons] I do not enjoy occurrences of friendly fire - and the paperwork involved therein.

As you would have discerned from a simplified log of internal communications as depicted above, one event led to the other. Naval warfare is not the kind of context that you can apply a "solve it as it comes by" mindset as though million ton capital vessels could stop on a dime and adverse tactical situations can be altered on-the-fly by a generous helping of munitions, these simply are not possible. [Though as mentioned in a given chapter certain movies and so-called "simulations" in need of logic checks say otherwise] Indeed, once a capital vessel commits to a given maneuver or plan of movement it might be impossible to call it off due to the physics involved [inertia], unless her flight controls are slaved to a "velocity zero-point" fixed relative to the taskforce flagship, or a centre point of a tactical engagement, and its velocity deviation limited to maintain an acceptable "command delay" such that intricate maneuvers on a static line of battle can be done.

You definitely do not wish to have large ships trying to charge the enemy line in a manner uncoordinated with the allied fleet and getting ripped to shreds instead of holding their given position, [if you're mad enough you can modify a simulator's ship-specific AI assignment, if the program's developers allow it, and observe] although where required the velocity reference can be overridden at any time for conventional spaceflight whose principles had not changed from the times of chemical rockets. This should explain why there is, in layman's terms, a "maximum speed" given to all combat vessels. It isn't a maximum speed [they wouldn't even be capable of leaving orbit if they were, and crash into the nearest planet or other local source of gravity soon after if they did], but a guideline employed in large fleet engagements, of a relative velocity to a set zero-point of the tactical situation, to maintain a reasonable standard of command responsiveness based on ship mass. No one mentions that in the HGN doctrine manual!

The task of maintaining a given orbital trajectory is one of the responsibilities of the taskforce or fleet flagship, and this data is fed to the flight control computers of vessels under their command via tactical datalink - velocity overrides are typically requested and executed in two-dimensional fashion, to say, accelerate past a blockade while friendly attack bombers suppress the opposing forces - this frees up one of the most complicated aspects of spaceflight for command and flight control crews to set their mind completely on tactical maneuvers.

"Enjoyed yourself?" I asked the Sobani lady
"Can't help it, but yes. Will you join us for the debriefing session?"
"Only to counter your reign over us Hiigaran dogs, it'll be, erm, 'unbalanced in the nature of the universe' if I didn't."
"Then I shan't."
"Nor I"
"Why are we speaking as if we were in one of them ancient novels?"
"Because I do what I wish to... do I not?"
"That’s my line!"
"Hiigaran Naval regulations do not encourage arguments made on matters otherwise inconsequential to Fleet operations."
"You made that up."
"Yes." I managed a grin at that, which is quite rare.
"You've a unique sense of humor"
"I've a sense of humor? I'm humored." A little laugh from her ensues.

The clank of magnetic boots on deck plating grows ever closer to my position, ending the mood for inane conversation, as I finish powering down the last of the observer's display panels. Passive sensors report contact is friendly based on acoustic signature. I know, I spend too much time in ships. Simulated ones included...although acoustic acquisition is the primary sensors mode for submarine craft and their torpedoes. Not spacefaring tin cans. Sound cannot travel in a vacuum.

"Sir!" as I give the approaching S'jeti training officer in charge of the simulator complex a salute in return.
"At ease."
"Do you wish to host the debriefing session sir?"
"I would like to, but I've other matters to attend to - plus I believe you're more than familiar with my training agenda and manner of speech already." I resist the urge to place a question after a statement for comical value. Bad influence inherited from a certain other of equal rank I tell ye.
"Aye sir! Have a good evening." Spacecraft do not follow a "proper" day/night cycle of their homeworld as per lighting conditions but the same 24 hour [for Hiigaran Naval forces] day is followed. As many as 4 shifts of personnel are required to ensure continuous operation of the vessel. It, unlike it's biological operators, cannot and does not sleep. You've to wonder if they're overworking it, talk about forced labour. No complaints given however, if maintained well and on schedule.
"You likewise." Another round of salutes, this time more casual.

Engaging magnetic boots so I could walk to the simulator complex exit from the standard-issue multipurpose device worn on the wrist, I then proceed without a delay. While typical "good-mannered" civilians would depict it extremely rude to leave a conversation unfinished you will eventually conclude that staying in a given area and answering all questions directed your way while entertaining everyone is not impractical, it is foolish and a waste of time. Do you send an infantryman to "hunt down and kill every single one of the enemy to accomplish mission objectives" when you actually need to reorganize and then remount them on personnel carriers for transit to the next objective within the time of arrival allocated by higher command? Unfortunately such non-mission-conscious behaviour is common-place in so-called "first person shooter" simulations freely available to non-military personnel. Not something I want and those under my command know this, again, more than well enough.

This deck, 14PA, or level 14, aft section of the personnel module, is the training facility of this station [usually referred to as the "training deck"], which we will look in detail at later. I have just exited the capital ship command simulator, as you know. The personnel corridors are laid out in white-painted plating, generally consisting of standard-sized portions spanning the entire width of what might be called by a landlocked person floor, walls, and ceiling. Where necessary these identical plates, about 3 meters wide for main corridors and no less than 2 meters for secondary personnel access, are cut to accommodate maintenance access panels, airtight bulkhead doors every 10 meters or so that are sealed in case of a hull breach or enemy boarding, and similar electronically controlled doors for access to various rooms. Strategically placed handrails provide a guide to navigate zero gravity on, but all personnel are also equipped with magnetic boots similar to mine. Markings indicate directions to various locales, and indicate which side is "up", "port", "starboard", and "aft" relative to the vessel, placed on where they'd be most logical. The interior design gives a rather cramped and spartan feel to most newcomers, but they'd get used to it after some time, as the layout is meant for functionality and survivability - minimal flammables, easy damage control and hazard isolation - HGN vessels are not pleasure transports or luxury liners. Biometric and electronic security measures are provided for restricted areas, and on this deck they are solely the supercomputer arrays serving various simulators. Finally, at defensible locations there are pop-out automated defenses - for safety reasons and to stay out of the way of transiting personnel these remain stowed, and their barrels unloaded, unless at action stations or an area requires lockdown for various reasons. I would describe these things in detail later and their manner of operation if necessary.

Every odd deck, or sub-deck, is the maintenance level. Masses of piping from the pneumatic grid to the occasional sewerage system, ventilation shafts, electrical cables of all types and sizes, crisscross these sub-decks and are necessary for habitation, equipment support, and networking. It is after all quite impractical to outfit everyone in spacesuits all the time, or run fibre optic cables everywhere like some computer enthusiast’s haven. No one goes into these sub-decks, robots maintain these areas and the atmosphere can be hazardous, although electronics specialists of the Marine corps are trained specifically to navigate these confined spaces in specially designed [and lightened] powersuits. Locating critical electronics infrastructure in a hostile vessel and disabling opposing robots with special weapons, the "Rats" will then start subordinating systems to their control without permission from the ship's owners much to the glee of allied assault troopers and dismay of the defenders for much mayhem ensues.

Located opposite from where the capital ship simulator is are the Strikecraft training facilities. If you wish to read through electronic tomes of close combat maneuvering and their ancient ancestors in aerospace warfare craft, then get crushed like a bug in the simulator as you try your hand at being a hero and pulling in excess of 9Gs in an Interceptor without proper training or flight technique, that's where to go. Provided you've the necessary authorization or permission, of course. Strikecraft isn't what I signed up for, but the literature I can spend hours on end going through - they prove useful in larger vessels as well, and provide invaluable tips on unit coordination, tactics and their effects on historical fields of battle. You'd be surprised how principles located in entirely alien subjects from each other can be merged and even better principles formed from their marriage, of sorts.

Turning aft at the junction formed by the two access doors on this main personnel corridor [3x3m], we can see an optronic viewscreen placed on the far end showing feed from visual sensors mounted on the aft end of the personnel section of this station. From here, manipulating the externally, mounted sensor from the provided controls, you can overlook operations in the huge capital berth, capable of supporting assembly of super-capital class vessels alike to the simulated HGN-04 earlier, provided the necessary resources are available, and our mission allowed and required such lavish expenditure, which on both cases we do not, nor do we carry enough crew to man the product without resorting to dangerous levels of automation, or the required robotics complement to assemble the monster in the first place - you get the idea. Although mobile stations of this class are generally classified as "Shipyards", their mobility and modular loadout makes them useful as an engineering support vessel and headquarters for a given area of operation - and in times of peace, a trading and logistics station, while remaining fully capable of being reconfigured and summoned on short notice to vomit out ships at the behest of Fleet Command at an alarming rate when something or someone decides to break the peace. Although well armed with point defense weaponry such stations are very vulnerable to enemy fire - thus have their on-board security flotillas and reconnaissance squadrons for force projection.

Ending the description of this view out the aft end of the personnel module's starboard section, the yellow-painted modular facility in charge of controlling robotics and directing personnel for operation of the capital berth spans from the upper starboard corner of the personnel section, spanning over 2 kilometres across the open maw of the capital berth and anchored to the engineering section of the station at the rear end. This modular facility is a vulnerability - if disabled the loss of control signals will cause most of the capital berth robotics to stop dead for safety reasons - but the other production lines have their own separate manufacturing control modules [Fighter, Corvette, Frigate, Utility, external modules deployment]. A mass of pre-assembled heavy-duty scaffolding can be seen stacked at the aft end of the capital assembly berth, secured on the deck along with a small regiment of robots. Nearby is the blast door to the Robotics Materials foundry where ship components are forged and the required materials assembled from the atomic level - lines of robotic arms on their "ceiling" mounted tracks can be seen, and what looks like a Frigate-class kinetic turret is being fitted on its mounting in a scheduled overhaul to one of our security flotilla's FFEs [Escort Frigates] which are currently berthed. A quartet of Resource Collector vessels are secured on the deck beside the Frigate, looking very small compared to it and painted yellow. Otherwise the massive cross-beams laid out across the assembly floor to support and moor a capital ship in place as it is built or docked for refitting is empty, and so are the assembly lines for smaller craft - there are no projects in progress, and our mission is not to play shipyard, nor are any new ships necessary. A few Marines in their zero-gravity powered armours can be seen jetting about the assembly dock on their thrusters, toting spaceborne assault rifles, along with the smaller figure of a "Rat" powersuit tagging along - hope he [or she? You can't tell genders apart when they're in their armour and helmeted, a good thing to me] is not up to some mayhem - but otherwise the assembly berth remains totally devoid of life or activity.

Patrolling around our station's location to prevent the possibility of surprise attack is the sole responsibility of the Scout squadron, it is far more practical to place combat assets on alert, ready to launch and intercept when the tactical sensor net triangulates hostile contacts than have everything fly all over the place looking for trouble. That is another myth to military operations - if that were some unit's deployment plan the enemy would simply wait for them to retire as crew fatigue mounts, then strike. Limited "shakedown" sorties however, are freely performed to calibrate ship systems and maintain crew morale. As good as modern simulators are nothing gives the crews as much pride and experience as flying in their own, physical ship. The Scout detachment is currently manned solely by volunteers wishing to do long-duration patrols due to our small crew complement on board the station for our assigned mission [and current location/situation], which I shall attempt to describe later without infringing on classified details. Those Scout patrol volunteers are usually Kiith Nabaal pilots, as per tradition and dogma. Personnel of the other Kiith however are quite reserved about spending 3 hours or more in a full spacesuit and a tiny cockpit practically filled with sensor readouts and multifunction displays. With no inflight meals.

Returning our attention to Deck14PA, stuffed into whatever space remained from the large Strikecraft and capital vessel simulators in the aft-end of the personnel module, beside the viewscreen, are the Resourcing and Powersuit Operations simulators. These two simulators do not require a security or rank clearance. Marines wishing to hone their skills in virtual reality simulated combat in again virtual reality powersuits visit the latter. [operation is identical, without the exoskeleton's weight, which you barely feel due to the suit being self-moving based on and mirroring what you'd like to do by operating the correct actuators much like a modern fly-by-wire or fly-by-light flight control system. It takes some getting used to being about thrice heavier than yourself - or more for the heavier assault armours] This simulator is also rather popular with the younger of our crew, although they much prefer staging "deathmatches" in large groups while the regular Marines focus more on teamwork in simulations of actual combat scenarios. Marines, of course, have priority for simulator access.

There is no option for simulating "Rat" operations - for security reasons. This simulator is rather good physical practice as well - it can be difficult to handle some weaponry without the augmentation provided by the actual suits - mockups of actual weapons of identical weight fitted with the required sensors to enable "attacking" targets in the simulated world are used here and force feedback equipment provide a relative estimate of their recoil. Personnel participating in the simulation do not move around at all, but are attached to special 3-dimensional rotating harnesses [easy in zero gravity] that rotate according to simulator state and virtual thruster commands. This provides capability to simulate spaceborne operations on suit thrusters while virtual reality helmets worn by participants negate the need to create life-sized environments. Control is implimented by sensors recognizing and translating limb and body action requests [as in neural transmissions and thought patterns] to suit movement, much like the actual armours do. There, of course, needs some calibration to be done to accomodate different persons, this both a factor of simulated and actual powersuits.

Resourcing is another story. While it is rather fun for the first time piloting little Resource Collectors [RCs] about and harvesting asteroids, then using plasma cutters to break debris into manageable chunks of salvage and hauling it into a production vessel's Phased Disassembler Array fusion torches to break them into their component elements, it gets routine quickily and much of the process is done on autopilot. The scenarios offering a depiction of replacing a warship’s external armour panels under fire also gaurantee a quick death most of the time for yellow-painted ships attract optical targeting sensors. In conclusion, only utterly bored personnel frequent this section, and they most often would end up cutting up huge chunks of debris into manageable portions that can be held on by the RC's robotic arms - then start throwing them at each other as other action-seekers stage duels of RCs grappling each other with their arms. What fun. They'd instantly proceed to engage in "serious salvaging work" and "giving ships a new coat of paint" when a ranking officer is around, naturally. I must say painting ships with the [simulated] multi-role Resource Collectors is sort of enjoyable. There was even an informal painting competition once. On a more serious side, those little RCs are very easy to pilot, thus a good medium to demonstrate hands-on basic spaceflight principles to those who are having their first bouts of navigating the airless void.

"Captain Dy'neren?"
I am particularly vulnerable to surprise greetings from behind - that startled me, not visibly I hope. Should make it a point to optimize aft quarter sensors. Or install offboard tactical datalinks.
"Yes ma'am?" Nothing wrong with courtesy - plus this Sobani lady who floated noiselessly down the corridor for a sneak attack is somehow, different, from the rest of the crew on board, officer or not.
"You seem to have a lot on your mind, is everything well?"
"I've naught to ask for - although others have noticed that I have what others do not, and lack what others don't." Entertaining at times to speak in riddles, I admit.
"I had discerned as much...You command others as if you were twenty years older yet there is no one your age to stand beside you. In light of that you lack the criticism from others that you require - and that which no one gives, or dares to, if I might say."
"That is refreshingly direct. But that is correct. How do you know?"
"Like you always mention - 'Think as how you would in the shoes of the enemy.'"
"You're cruel."
"'What can be done to others might also befall yourself.'"
"I hate you." I allow a grin at that. At our present crew complement on board the station it appears deserted most of the time, with the exception of those areas that are frequently visited. Like the recreation decks equipped with artificial gravity generators with regards to off duty personnel. That means there is a lot of real estate to explore and float about while off duty, although it's mostly spartan white corridors. No threat [yet] with regards dropping of eaves on informal conversations. Furthermore our crew is divided into 4 shifts, each spanning around 7 hours, overlapping each other by a margin, this thins our numbers farther and we are running on minimal crew requirements. I have not described our assignment yet, have we?
"The sentiment is mutual I assure you." We are both grinning at that.
"How goes the debriefing for the simulator participants?" I change the subject.
"They are getting used to your training agenda, which I admit I find rather harsh." No more grins.
"I do not wish to repeat history where overly relaxed training equated to total lack of combat capability when war finally broke out. We have no excuse to repeat mistakes of the past."
"Yes, quite interesting, that - a certain navy where their gunnery practices were annual competitions staged against none other than static buoys, and their opponents were both disciplined and diligent in their training, which, like yours can be said as rather harsh. This gave them a massive advantage in the early phases of the war."
"However, lack of long-term planning, and picking a fight with a nation of greatly superior industrial capability meant their cause was lost from the start. They indeed hoped to make rapid gains, then secure them with a treaty of peace. Unfortunately their very first move of the conflict, although brilliant in technique, served to unite their enemies like they never had before. The declaration of war arrived only after that infamous strike was complete."
"Yes, exactly, you read my mind. And I agree that in modern times far too many fail to learn the lessons of the past."
"Hm, what now?" After a few moments of glaring at each other.
"You have not eaten." She stifles a yawn; it is past midnight, Hiigaran time. End of this crew shift. I check status of various ship departments as the conversation continues and the bridge communications log via wrist datapad, and if anything is reported to the command staff, all OK. There's no need to have a check in/out system on our ships, save that for civilians who know not their sense of purpose. Especially when running on a skeleton crew everyone knew their place, and role. All right, I'll stop plugging the Hiigaran Navy and our personnel as superior.
"How do you know that?"
"I know everything."
"Witch."
"Sorceress."
"We're hopelessly addicted to ancient things I guess."
"Lead the way. I've not eaten, as well."
"I don't know that."

The obvious choice for transiting to the inter-deck elevators was to use momentum to advantage - magnetic boots are for maneuvering in close confines, otherwise, why walk when you can fly? Take care when crossing corridor junctions, however - nasty collisions may result if you don't watch the corners. They should install mirrors. A big Marine in his powersuit who respectfully switches off his thrusters [standard practice to patrol fully armoured, and suit thrusters while referred to as "cold gas thrusters" can scald if fired in close proximity] and a few technicians of the same crew shift join the small party after a short exchange of salutes. A handful of personnel from the next shift arrive on the next elevator together with a small cargo pallet on the equivalent of a zero gravity handcart, and again formalities are repeated as they move to their posts.

Deck 2PF is the mess hall, located at the upper fore of the personnel module. The inter-personnel-deck elevators are again, spartan in design and you could say "standard issue", virtually a metallic box on magnetic rails providing a means of rapid transit between decks. Lack of gravity equates to fancy procedures being a necessity, else you'd be having a bad bruise on the head as the elevator decelerates as it reaches its destination. Otherwise these transit systems do their job with no hassles.

The array of inter-deck transit systems are located roughly in the middle of the personnel module, thus there had to be some floating to do towards the fore section of the ship to our next objective. Mr. Marine in his courtesy insisted to escort us there, and his presence attracted a fair bit of cold wit from the lady.

The mess hall is practically a large rectangular hole cut in the hull, and while the opening is sealed from the deadly vacuum of space by multiple single-piece layers of high density composite armoured transparency that have a reputation of not shattering under fire from heavier weaponry classes than their rating [armour class], I do have my reservations on being this close to a death by decompression. Still, this 2-decks high [plus the maintenance subdeck 1, or deck 1S, this is about 12 meters high] window affords one an impressive view of the background of space. Above, deck 1, is where some of the crew quarters are located, and the front of the deck is cut away such that you could get supper and float to your accommodations or the lounge [which is the fore part of deck 1PF] if desired. Very thoughtful of whomever created the station's blueprints. Above deck 1 are some of the station's smaller cargo bays serving the personnel module, obviously being set right above the mess hall, neighbouring galley, and crew quarters for another factor of maximum convienience. It is also Hiigaran Naval preference to make use of cargo or resource storage cells as a final layer of armour before enemy fire reaches pressurized crew spaces or critical internal systems on a vessel, in the event of a hull breach. Looking yet farther "upwards" relative to the ship/station, there is the double internal pressure hull that is stressed to accommodate the personnel module's atmosphere [for large vessels different sections of the ship have their own pressure hulls, these define their separate "modules". Modules in the sense of auxiliary external weapon and equipment subsystems are referred to in a more direct manner.], and armoured to keep it in.

Even farther outside are the vessel's structural members and supports to keep the pressurized spaces where they are, and there is a sizable gap between the internal pressure hulls and the external hull with its armour belts that gives a ship her appearance. At certain points of the pressure hull, specifically on the fore part of this station classes' personnel and command modules which we shall visit later [perhaps tomorrow, I'm tired and not assigned to command stations today, not to mention at the end of my shift], there is no separation between these two hulls. This explains my paranoia about dining behind those large pieces of transparency right now. A saboteur crazy enough and armed with powerful enough explosives [though he'd need literally tons] can lead to some key personnel flying out in space without spacesuits.

On the other hand, at action stations no one except perhaps a deserter [none in my command, really!] would hang out here, and the internal pressure bulkhead doors would be sealed to localize atmospheric decompression should a hull breach occur, and to stall the progress of hostile intruders. Our own Marine detachment have authorization to override the door controls, thus can go where they please - in such defensive situations the Marines typically are subordinated to the ship's security network, operating in concert with automated defenses and robotic combatants. Such systems and their command interfaces can be equally sophisticated as ship command systems, and most bear a passing resemblance to so-called "real-time strategy" simulations, abeit with real, live actors and equipment under their jurisdiction. In boarding a hostile vessel, the opposite situation becomes apparent - without capability to override the door controls, or heavy weaponry and explosives to physically breach them, to keep this part of the chapter short, you are hopelessly stuck. By the way, deliberately using the security interface to trap certain crewmembers between bulkhead doors for whatever reason of personal grudge or short-term enjoyment at the expense of another, is strictly prohibited.

"Upside down, or right side up?" I asked as the food dispenser completes filling my tray with various food then seals it with a plastic cover to prevent them floating away whist in transit to refueling stations - the mess hall had provisions for seating on both "ceiling" and "floor", not mentioning that some crewmembers liked dining on the transparency itself. Not that I would ever do that!
"I did not say I would be dining with you." The Sobani lady replied.
"Besides, there are plenty of seats available." Like I said, the good thing about having a ship on skeleton crew is that there'd be almost no-one around - A single crewman is reading in one corner of the huge mess hall, wedged between the internal-side of the transparency [obviously!] and a metallic structural support pillar, some off-duty personnel are lounging in the lounge on deck 1 [what else is the lounge for?] who soon left, otherwise the whole place is nicely quiet. It was also rather chilly, as there is barely any thermal energy produced by fellow warm-blooded animals such as other crew to raise the temperature regulated by the atmospheric control systems. Being sick of the stuffy and humid atmosphere, amongst other forms of pollution produced in crowded places from memories of civilian life, I actually liked it. Besides, you could say it complements the personality of present company.
"You're sarcastic."
"I'm not."
"How dare you deny that fact?"
"I felt like it."
"Hmph!"
With that, the food dispenser device belches out a plastic bottle with a straw attached [free-floating liquids in zero gravity are unmanageable, and dangerous to electronics], labelled "Wine". Of course, in this context it would be a non-intoxicating simulated equivalent with the same taste, well, almost the same. I float off to one of the "right side up" booths. Yes, I like wine.

Jettisoning the plastic cover of the metallic tray, I am greeted with an array of squares and rectangles of different colour. I poke at a white square and scoop up some of the synthetic-looking material therein. Tastes like fish, and not bad too. Kudos to whomever S'jeti scientist that developed the present generation of space-borne solid food. These jelly-like foods are also laced with ferrite particles [also for iron content - the nutritional literal meaning], and thus stick to the magnetic trays provided - that also sticks to the mess hall tables. Thus unlike "conventional" and "naturally occurring" solid food they do not float away when you try to eat them and at the same time potentially creating a minefield of food in a spacecraft. Again, the utensils [fork and spoon] are magnetic, thus finally, spacefarers can eat "normally", and not settling for squeezing food into their mouths from toothpaste tubes. Yet again, loose utensils will not drift about as floating object hazards, but stay where they are on metallic surfaces. Very nice innovation, yes?

Aside from the pair of Scout-class fighters requesting docking clearance [radio conversations or programmes are piped to certain ship areas on speaker and controlled from the command module, otherwise the rest of the announcement systems remain silent except where necessary to broadcast to all personnel in pressurized areas] and doing so, there is nothing much else to describe for the mess hall, other than the starfield laced with glowing nebulae outside the transparency, and that I'm hungry. Glancing at the wrist datapad again to see if there are any urgent reports or messages sent over the ship's wireless intranet to attend to, I then lay unto the food.

It wasn't long before the only Sobani on board decided to break my reverie. I didn't mind.
"Eating well is a good sign of being content..." She said, setting down in the seat opposite my table with a half-filled tray of food.
"So it shall seem." As yet another spoonful goes into the maw of the Toothed Disassembler Array. Note to self, stop reading ship technical manuals.
At this point of time we were both tired, thus the next few minutes were spent processing resources, err, food, before retiring for rest - there's the next shift "tomorrow" to consider. And I have not checked the crew roster. While eating before the spaceborne equivalent of bed is typically most unwise, you can refer to another feature of eating engineered food - you can't grow fat on it. Tastes good, too, although you'd tend to forget about how real food looks like after a time.
"You... have not asked my name" She breaks the silence.
"Pardon?"
"The first thing out of a typical male's mouth to one of my gender, is to ask for a name."
"You sound as if you despise that."
"Consider that a complement. Not that I give any."
"I'm flattered." We both grin, for a while.
"You also are rather hesitant at looking at me in such close confines as we are in at the moment."
"I prefer not to see you as yet another object to for a male to interact with."
"Tsk tsk, no wonder you've no commitments with those my gender - at all." Accompanied a cold sneer addressed to myself.
"There are matters more important than informal social activities."
"Excuses, excuses."
"At least my presence entertains you."
"Although I would not find that bad in your shoes; most of -my- gender at our age or younger are materialistic weak-minded wenches who'd more often beg for affection than actually think for themselves for a moment to see how silly they are following idiotic trends of fashion - or that they're being made use of as playthings to throw about by their so-called boyfriends," she snapped.
"Lady... are you well?"
"I'm sorry, I had to let that out...let's just, change the subject shall we?"
"It is fine to speak your mind, though I must question your motives of you following me around, which is on an 'at your own risk' basis."
"You dare question me?"
"Most would label one such as you arrogant and unapproachable, for they do not see one's purpose, in the best interests of society, should be placed above informal considerations that do not solve any problems."
"I apprieciate your wisdom on the subject but I assure you I am less predictable than you think. Now I shall question you."
Resource processing status of both parties is about 75% complete at this time. Mess hall crowdedness [is there such a word?] in percentage of total personnel capacity remains at a nice 0.5%. Like I said, no dropping of eaves on officers' conversations.
"Why did you join the Navy?"
"That's refreshingly direct," as I reply, quoting her, with the courtesy of not speaking with a mouth filled with food.
"Regale me."
"What specifically would you like to know regarding that motive of joining the Navy?"
"Everything."

My history indeed would not be worth mentioning in most cases, as to most listeners they would label it "not normal" or similar. My family broke up at an age where I was most in need of guidance from my elders, and to make matters worse my peers at that time, and the social environment in general, was adverse. For virtually no reason I'd be the laughing stock of my class at school and the favourite subject of behind the back comments [this since a very young age], although I cannot think of an instance where I would have deserved those from my actions. I did not look up to my parents either, as for when I required their support and counsel it is met with suspicion for some reason.

Because of that I turned to what could be called subversive behaviour to live by, as typical of a fraction of teenagers dissatisfied with their state of life. I did poorly in my examinations and the only assistance I received was half-hearted "lessons" that are not helpful in the first place. Do something with full commitment, or not at all. Although somehow I was on very good terms with the school's discipline master, who, like present company, is seen as totally unapproachable by the rest of the community. But I do not wish to discuss this phase of my life any farther; a failed operation is after all a failed operation. There is no point in having it assume a better appearance.

Not doing well in those examinations of that educational level, however, proved to be a blessing in disguise. I was then free from an education system that was so regimented graduates lacked any sort of creativity, or initiative, for being "trained" to obey their teachers, without question. It was not my way, nor could I fit into that, or the culture of the particular nation I spent my growing up years in.

Education in a "technical institution" of the particular nation I was living in at that time was the lowest thing in anyone's mind, it's acronym was translated as "It's The End", and students of which were hopeless fools who do not have anywhere else to go. I, being one to see things for myself, decided not to take it at face value. I applied for an apprenticeship course in mechatronics engineering, for I wished to earn my own keep. There was a 3-month training programme before we were shipped off to our respective industrial companies.

I reported on schedule at the location of training, and since then I never looked back. Our class was of a mere 7, however we would prove ourselves unique to that particular branch of the technical training institution. A close-knit crew free of backstabbing and teaching staff whose agenda is to focus on understanding principles rather than push for perfect results, I liked it. And best of all I was looked up to, as I would make it a point to learn what I can, then instruct others if it ever became necessary. It was leading, without the need to assume oneself higher than others in either rank or demeanor, although naturally at that age I developed my own sense of what might be called pride due to that.

There were never any problems in our motley little group, we were well-liked by our trainers for our attitude and high morale, we returned that favour by not bringing forth the typical youth problems associated with our age group, you could say mutual respect, et cetera. Mind you a bad image of an educational institution is formed for a reason. We did not follow that path, but forged our own. It was a good three months, but as all good things go it will pass eventually.

Unfortunately the company I was attached to did not wish my service, and this out of a gesture of goodwill. I was young yet, and malleable in mindset. Thus I should not be made to work in the industry for the sake of my own development. I won't forget that. It was no matter, I was diagnosed as colour-blind and was unsuited for the course anyway, though I will not suffer those who will take this diagnosis at face value and blatantly assume it means I see in black and white like some dog. It is not the case, I see normally but in controlled conditions that you won't encounter in actual life a deficiency can be noted with regards to colour distinction in a single certain colour combination. Do some research before judgment.

My performance, however, led me to be recommended for a course of higher level. And thus came another 3 years in this very satisfying curriculum. As you all know if you give a young person too much responsibility and realization of talent in too short a time with no guidance almost everything can go wrong. It did, but I had ample time and the understanding of those I work with and learn from, that I can refine almost all aspects of my personality almost to perfection of what I seek to grow up and see myself as. My class gets credit for that. My father would say it is a matter of choice - a choice that each and everyone is entitled to make. I decided not to follow what a typical teenager is seen as, but again, forge my own path, this time for the benefit of myself. It is, my project of sorts and it has not concluded.

2 years on, something made me attempt suicide. I know not of what reason I did, but I will make up none just so I appear normal in the eyes of others - for there was no reason. Case closed. What mattered [and should actually be considered and taken at face value by so-called psychiatrists with a frog-in-the-well mindset] was how the situation affected me, and how I regarded the effects. I could no longer study due to the psychological and emotional factors involved - I could not concentrate on anything for more than a few minutes. I requested a half-year of applied leave, and after some insistence and diplomacy, it was granted. I know my rights and wishes.

Well, I was your typical couch potato then, but what I did then is what made me as I am today. I took up a virtual career of what could be called professional acting, virtual in the sense it is computer simulated. Ha. For that half year I was indisputable lord over a frontier colony run and populated by actual people, but I won't speak that highly of myself. No one is infallible. I did not start out that well in the beginning, but I noticed something, and made a vow to myself that I shall not allow others [the population of a simulated village set in ancient days] to be taken advantage of for the gain of some obscure leadership. But words and a noble intention is not enough. You must gain understanding for your cause, and support of the people. But do you follow the mistakes of the past and force everyone to your will? You'll be just as bad a villain then.

My chance came when the administrator of the given simulation decided to start the environment afresh. How ironic is that a newcomer can defeat seemingly indefatigable players of "evil" characters seeking domination of others over all else, with years of experience at that up their sleeves? But must one take the situation at face value? The underlying cause is that the common folk do not know what is going on, and thus willingly support the aforementioned parties. So educate them, you say, but the key is the method. You cannot expect to change a trend by just standing on a fort's walls and shouting, but you must understand how another thinks before a solution [in this case] can be implimented.

What then did I do? Act naturally, no more. I instructed and guided others where necessary, and vice versa - like I said, no one is infallible. Eventually and naturally word of my style of thought, behaviour and its effects on others spread. Key members of the population understood the agenda of said chain of thought, and you know the rest. When those seeking to gain profit for themselves at the expense of others turned up, there was no influence they may attain, as now the people know their true intentions, not taking their agendas at face value and follow a given trend blindly. Simple, yes?

But solving typical social problems of the time period perhaps imbalanced the nature of the universe, and note that this is a simulated environment. Those whose plots failed utterly from the onset did not take their losses honorably, and thus operation was eventually terminated due to internal political strife. You could say I caused that, but never once did I raise a finger to do anything affecting that cause. It was meant to be and it was the decision of others not in my direct company.

Thus despite the adverse social conditions I had to face all though childhood I countered it by international interaction in unconventional manners, and again, forging my own path. After all if a given culture wishes me to "be one of them" they should actually provide some incentives and prove themselves.

How does this part of the tale end up? I graduated, satisfied, and proceeded to create my own space-naval simulation using a commercial game engine, and turning a mediocre display of graphics technology into a highly automated fleet engagement simulation with its own structure of documentation, including unit-specific doctrines and how would it be translated to reality. It isn't a perfect product, that would be impossible, but by deciding on compromises one can emulate, a desired result very closely. You need not think of your own desires directly to get what you want.

And why did I join the Navy? The above was a non-profit product, so indeed I got naught for my efforts. But I was satisfied - it was the result of 4 years of my independence. I did not squander that chance to be what I wished to be. Something still lacked - a commitment to a worthy cause.

I spent a few days wandering aimlessly or admiring my own work, and whether I would have a future to look forward to, when there was news of the Vagyr Invasion. Hiigaran outposts were falling all across the Inner Rim, and the Navy was in a state of rebuilding after the transition to the current generation of technology and to counter this new threat. The counterattack would be led by the second Mothership, but they were severely understaffed. Volunteers were needed, and so I went for it. Low survival rates were guaranteed for early sorties, and we were warned of that, but no one at the recruitment centre hesitated to step forward - our homeworld was in danger and crews were needed to man ships as they were built. Our fates were linked.

There wasn't much time for training. We were taught what we needed to know based on our specialization as crewmen under the command of the Navy regulars, that is all. Mine, was of course, in simulators. But all of us recruits had no intention to make a profit out of the situation - we knew to do our jobs, or there would be no home to return to.

I was one of them selected to be transferred to the Mothership, and we were being briefed on the Pride of Hiigara's specifications when the call for emergency departure rang. The Mothership escaped destruction at the Tanis Shipyard, is damaged, and is fleeing to Hiigara to take on crew so that they can mount an immediate counteroffensive. Like a textbook operation we were loaded on board surface-to-orbit transports and shuttled to a low orbit loading dock where the Bishop transports were loaded, then launched to intercept the Pride of Hiigara at the Angel Moon rally point. Those large transport vessels were like nothing we've ever seen before. They were huge.

6 crew transports were outbound, 4 made it past the Vagyr blockade. I was on Bishop 4 and the viewscreens of the personnel bay showed the unfolding battle around. It was a rude shock to all of us, thrown right into a war. We watched helplessly as Vagyr bombers pummeled our transports, then Frigate class vessels entered the turkey shoot. Right after that the Sobani task force jumps in right behind the Vagyr Frigate flotilla just when we lost all hope as to our situation, and with the support of what could be called a rag tag bunch of fighters launched from the Mothership, drove them off. Bishops 5 and 6 behind us, however, did not make it to dock with the Mothership. 5 had their engines go unstable from battle damage and was torn apart by resulting oscillating structual stresses. 6 at the end of the convoy broke clean in half then went up in a massive explosion. There were no survivors.

On board the Mothership it was no better. We were rushed to our respective posts and crash-briefed on what we had to do in what situation, et cetera. Absolute chaos with the number of us arriving. Everyone had to be instructed, and most of all the new pilots. About half of them hadn't even been on a spacecraft before. So the simulator facilities were put to good use. They weren't as good as they are today - old whiteboard and textbook teaching methods had to be used, but there was no time - the Mothership is en route to intercept the Shipyard Nabaal to rebuild the Hiigaran Fleet, and again we met a Vagyr assault. But this time we were more prepared, and drove them back. And now we did not need personnel to be trained - we needed them in fresh warships straight out of assembly berth, and furthermore we were short of almost a third of our onboard complement. We had a choice of what ship type we wished to man, and as new ship classes were brought to bear as the counteroffensive progressed, crews who had selected that class and were as yet unassigned were placed in them. But it was not that bad - veteran crews, at least those who had survived their initial sorties in the first batches of combat vessels, would instruct greenhorns on shore leave, then set out into the fields of battle again. More losses would be taken as the Mothership continues on her journey that ends with lifting the Vagyr Siege of Hiigara, once and for all breaking the back of the enemy and securing our home. We did what we had set out to do, and it is the sacrifices of those who had put their lives on the line for us that makes us what we are today.

"That was a good tale, though painful at the start, I appreciate you taking the trouble to share your past with me."
"Like I said, I'm glad I entertain."
"You make a good bard."
"You're funny."
"Cruel, and now funny. How quaint. So tell me, Captain of Frigates, how did you secure that rank in the war?"
"The first ship spit out of the Shipyard Nabaal is one of the Escort Frigate class, and the Vagyr are still swarming us. I was assigned as tactical officer for my personality. We came under attack soon after leaving dock and the bridge was hit - mind you back then we had not the doctrine of commanding from the battle management complex, or was there even one - pilot didn't secure her restraints properly and was thrown into the ceiling when a heavy missile detonated nearby, not nice, then flying debris killed the captain. Everyone else was too busy manning their stations and directing our cannon fire on the Vagyr attackers, while the ship started to spin out of control as the co-pilot attempted to reach over and man two stations at once, failing miserably at that. There was no one else to take the pilot's seat, so I got in there as fast as I could manage, secured myself there, then started flying and coordinating the ship at the same time. Just like the simulator, I reminded myself. Did what I could, that's all. I admit my partial colour blindness did hinder my progress in the Navy somewhat significantly, but that all but ceased when I proved myself in combat. Back to the first Frigate of the Fleet and her maiden voyage, various debris both biological and not was a hazard. A controlled decompression of the bridge to clear them saved us from farther problems as we maneuvered. Yes, we disposed of the bodies that way, consider it a necessity of warfare."
Thus today Frigate pilots are also the commander of the vessel - as these classes of light capital warship rely first and foremost on the technique of maneuver warfare.
"FFEs have one of the highest casualty rates in a fleet engagement."
"Only if they're not properly deployed to make full use of their tactical agility - but we were all in a state of experimentation then. No one really knew how the real ships handled or fought, though the veterans knew what to do way better than us. There were even a few cases where ammunition loadouts were overhauled completely, and thruster control software being updated in the field as Command and Research Division staff reviewed our combat performance. Early Frigates in their stock configuration were infamous for their atrocious handling characteristics."
"So your FFEs don't have the highest casualty rate in a fleet engagement."
"It is not in the prerogative of a sentient to accept a current state of events where improvements might be made. Especially where my Escort Frigates are concerned."
"Very good, I now know just about everything regarding yourself. Now you can ask me the same."
"Well enough - why did you join up?" I asked.
"I'm not sure where to begin."
"You do not have to provide your tale tonight."
"Hm. Let me at least try."

She seems at a loss of words at first, and then starts to describe her childhood. A pampered child, she is brought up on set ideals and sheltered from what is classified as "bad" by her elders. There were pretty much no complaints most of the time. Unfortunately as she grew older that sentiment gradually changed, this partly due to natural curiosity. As realizations were made from her own thinking her elders would attempt to force their points of views onto her for they sought a daughter that would correspond to what they thought as a "correct" image. Without realizing the effects that such a method of upbringing would cause, and their ideals are indeed more suited to a vastly different situation than what was reality at that time. Not going into farther details, she angrily states that at the age of 16 she was betrothed against her will to someone that she despised for various reasons, and decided enough was enough. In the traditional Kharakhid practice she renounced her kiith and left home, never to return.

Ultimately this resulted in extreme hardships in that one cannot just be left to their devices and expected to survive after being brought up on the direct opposite, and furthermore many would seek to take advantage of a wandering young lass without affiliation...

It was in such a situation that she in her own inexperience had got into, but by chance was rescued in good time by a passing Sobani mercenary who took her under his wing in his unit. No mercy was shown to her oppressors who were gunned down at point-blank range. While she was rather defiant at first when questioned about her present state with regards to her [former] family, that sentiment of mistrust passed when the realization came that these mercenaries had no desire to take advantage of her present situation, but rather the opposite - on the blessing of the unit commander of the mercenary who had "found" her she could apply for training at the regional Sobani academy, and serve under the Kiith Soban banner on completion of the standard term of training, and in effect, in charge of her own destiny as part of a professional mercenary organization. It was exactly what she'd wished for, but a condition had to be met - they needed to know why a daughter of a family in good standing had ended up in this state, in order to prevent the forming of childish notions of revenge that would not only be detrimental to herself in the long run, but others around her as well. Forget your past life, they said. Otherwise joining Kiith Soban was on her own free will - she could go back to being a tramp...

And so she did. With no exception, all Sobani are required to attain a standard of physical conditioning, and proficiency with various hand-held weaponry, as well as military tactics, as per tradition, and their role. While the days of the mercenary seems to be long over, Kiith Soban is frequently called in to assist where conventional military forces are inadequate, or cannot be deployed to a given area, be it due to a rapid response needed, or specialized expertise being a necessity. Furthermore Sobani-trained personnel are valuable as security officers, tacticians or intelligence operatives.

But the notion of Kiith, or factions, at civil war with each other, have long since passed way even before the time of the Exodus from Kharak. All Hiigarans have a common cause, but while tradition is hailed as utterly obsolete by most in modern times, you cannot deny the semblance to tradition by which personnel of a given Kiith choose as their naval specializations. Those of Kiith Naabal prefer being at the forefront of exploration, S'jeti as scientists extending the boundaries of technology, and the Sobani their mercenary standing, though not as soldiers of fortune in the direct sense, but if you require a no-nonsense rapid strike in a certain weak point of a hostile fleet disposition, or show up at just the right time behind the enemy to save the day in a failed operation, the Sobani rapid response task forces [RTFs] are whom to place on the list of reserves.

Capital vessels are far too unwieldy for use in such dynamic tactical scenarios, while Strikecraft do not have the necessary endurance or hyperspace jumping capability to keep up, thus these RTFs consist solely of Frigate-class vessels of different type, their differing roles and manner of firepower projection complementing each other. Indeed it is usually up to local Fleet Command to provide capital bombardment or Strikecraft support should it prove necessary in a given operation. Once seen to it that their mission objectives are accomplished, Sobani Frigates will not loiter in the area but will withdraw to the Fleet assembly point to await another assignment befitting their role, or advance on another mission on their own agenda in indirect Fleet support, as is the role of the Sobani captain in charge of the RTF Ferin Sha during the Vagyr Invasion in tracking down the Vagyr leader. She finally finishes the discussion with the caution that capture by enemy forces should be avoided or prevented at all costs, and that taking care of one's teammates is important - as they do the same likewise.

"How did I do?"
"It was good, though you sound tired, and angry."
"You don't know how it feels..."
"I understand-"
"You don't!"
"...I won't provoke you."
"I'm positively sick and tired of seeing my gender treated and seen as some sort of... plaything for you males!"
"I know... I notice, which is why I wish not to do the same.."
"It's not me. No, I've got out of that on my own will. It's the others. Why.. just can't they see where they're going!? I see the same everywhere. Weak, stupid, just letting themselves get taken advantage of. Why!?"
"Tch, calm down... You cannot blame others for what they are, it is one's experiences that dictates their personalities. It is also their choice."
"It is NOT their choice if they do not even realize it! It's NOT their choice if they'd dismiss the chance to realize it just because someone else different to their idiotic mindsets said it!"
"Then they are not meant to see it - you can't change everything to what you yourself would like..."
"Shut up!"
I get slapped for that, and hard. I take the blow, for I know how she feels.
"I should go now, good night."
"No..." She obviously hadn't meant to do that, however. Already close to tears from her anger, she puts her head on the table and sobs quietly. I'd be no comfort to her, thus decided to remain where I am. I notice on peripheral vision that the other personnel in the mess hall, all two of them, had taken notice, and the command crew from the capital ship simulation earlier had arrived.
"Lady, you should get some rest. Worry not, I won't mention this in my reports."
She looks up, still crying, as though to say sorry and thank you at the same time as I nod in return, then rises to leave, but pauses while walking by. Only now did I notice the slender short sword in its black scabbard hanging from her belt, she removes it and presses it onto my person firmly then leaves without a farther thought.

I take it and rise, as the command crew and the two other crew present congregate around my position.

"Sir, is everything all right?"
"Wow, must be that time of the month."

"Lieutenant, I'd seriously consider those words if I were you - we're all on the same side here, last thing we need is rumors passed behind another person's back. Try to imagine how you'd feel if someone on your command team decides to make you the victim of that."

"Aye sir, point noted. Sorry sir."
"Don't apologize to me."

"Anything we can do to help?" I noted the we, from the crewman reading a book in the corner, with the now-apparent rank of ensign.

"Well," after a moment of consideration I decided to be frank, after all we are on the same side, “some rest should do well for her, just don't do anything to escalate the situation. We've enough on our hands keeping this shipyard station and our security wing operational as it is."

"Hell yeah, we are barely populating the station. Thank Sajuuk for all that automation."
"We're doing fine sir."

"I've got a feeling we'll be getting a taste of action soon, given our present location and history of this sector, but we'll just do our jobs, and go from there... Well, if I were not this tired as I am now you would have a better speech from me!"

Laughter all around, crew morale remains good.

"Just watch each other's back out there if we have to launch into combat. Until then, it's extremely late on Hiigara. Sunrise shift at their posts?" I take a gander at the wrist datapad to check, flipping to the personnel status page of the display.

"Aye sir, all personnel at assigned stations, erm, at least the few we ran across on the elevators."

"OK. All personnel are on station and no alerts for the past.. 8 hours or so. Good night gentlemen, I'll equip each of you with one of these newfangled datapads the next supply run if you play nice."

"What if we don't?"
"You all don't get them!"
"Awwww!"
"Good night sir"
"Likewise"

The crew disperses and I take the chance to have a closer look at the finely decorated blade's hilt, noting the trigger for the ultrasonic resonance generator - this thing can cut though a Marine's armour with proper technique. A yawn reminds me to start the long float to the officers' quarters located in the command section of the station, which is port of the personnel module on the centreline, and protruding forwards. Wearing the scabbard and blade on the belt, I take two steps forward then disengage the magnetic boots from the wrist datapad control once on the proper velocity vector to the personnel corridors to which I'm headed, resisting the urge to check on the Sobani lady at the same time out of concern. Yes, I left our meals where they were for "someone else" to clear. I'm tired. Stop reading already. As in right now.

Wow. Your attention to detail is astounding. Some homeworld freak could easily make a detailed blueprint of HGN-04, in the same league as the blueprints that exist for Star Trek ships.

Hell, I may just be that freak ;)

That'll be nice - and Relic's designs are quite straightforward and practical, as you'll see in the completed chapter IIc and III :)

You folks might like to re-read IIb and beyond, I made some changes and additions including a little essay on network-centric fire control.

Spoiler:
You'll see a detailed interior of a Hiigaran Shipyard and life/operations control on board in the rest of this chapter. And in the next, Frigate-class helm operations on an Escort Frigate from launch to retirement.

Character development commences as of now, as you can discern in the current state of chap. IIC.

I am also making a point to translate our "admiral's battle management console display" [which is Homeworld 2] into "realistic" terms, as you can see, like why HW2 does not display evasive maneuvers :)



Yes! You got that right on, although the current scene set in the Shipyard's crew training section doesn't consider any of that, and it's a new station yet. Veteran warships will have their own personality and will be like as you mention [as far as the cleaner bots can keep them clean ] :)


However - I've 12 days to go before I'm shipped off to the Army. :)

12 days? well thats a bummer. How are you supposed to play hw2 like that?

Chp IIC is up to 90% length.

Most of the fluff [90%] done. Now the hard part [10%]!

Get a witch and cast time stop or something I guess :)

IIC Complete. Now go read. Note: It would be insulting to go into too much detail on certain aspects of the last bit, so use your imagination and extrapolate from what I wrote in detail earlier, or do you need "proper motivation" :)

Character development of these/us two is as detailed as can be, I'm not an advocate of "best case modern social cultures" and their depiction, so take note. This is not romance quest. Sheesh, you're a filthy lot [LOL].

You folks have a choice for the next chapter, which are:

Chp. IID - Marine Operations , set in - dreamland [I dream well in RL, so :P]
Chp. III - Fox and Hunters - Frigate-class sortie and combined arms operations, set in "reality" thus beneficial to the "main quest". It'll add another 15k words or more to this fiction.

Tell me what you like :)

Also need to know how the Star Wars [KOTOR] vibroswords work. "Ultrasonic wave generator" is a bit bland where I'd wish to paint a complete picture of a capital ship battle management complex.. :)

It surprises me when I fire up PDS and..... exactly similar result to fiction and "Reality" :)

Edited new chp IIC additions to correct grammar and vocab.

Obviously I really was staying up late to write that. It's not easy :)

One thing I forgot in those ship descriptions - interior lighting! LOL. Will edit later.

Your standard issue flourescent glow panels, no more :)

Spoiler of sorts:
The first 5% of chp. III is the last of the informal officers' conversations. We've a job to do, this isn't a civilian yacht.

Well, is this piece of fiction too complex to read? I find it far more practical to say "you will not understand" when locals show interest [stick to Counter-Strike all of ye!].

Farthermore poor English is a very common complaint even at tietiary levels of education. Pfft not that I use proper English anyway [at least spelling is correct] . :)

I find it perfectly understandable. But then, I do read a lot of science fiction (Star Wars) so I'm pretty familiar with most of the jargon.

I only get a chance to reply every one or two days so bear with me here Tel' :)

Just realized how big a distance 10 light minutes is. 8.5 LM is Earth to Sun.

Editing range.

Star Wars is hardly a model of scientific credibility.

Chp III: Fox and Hunters
 

Chapter III: Fox and Hunters

It was yet another dream, but this time the unconscious side of my head decided to put me through a close quarters battle scenario in powered armour as though I needed a refresher course. It wasn't doing a bad job at emulating my preferred style of intra-unit coordination, and as dreams went it was as automated as an unmanned combat vehicle. Our rapid progress through drab metallic corridors and hasty defensive positions was abruptly halted by a lone figure who raised a palm towards us as though it were summoning some devastating force against us, its stature defiant up to the point of foolishness - no sane person stands in the way of a quarter-ton self-powered suit of armour. It seemed a familiar figure.

Just before the point where a wave of recognition swept through my consciousness, I felt this furry thing sweeping across my face, a deep contrast to the gritty short-lived Marine operation in dreamland, and reality took hold of my consciousness, erasing most memories of the dream as though it were labeled "random access". Perhaps the identity of the above should not be known to me, yet. Dreams after all, at times do carry a message relevant to the reality of life - somehow. I do not doubt or question whatever which works.

"Good morning," a heavily accented friendly voice registered, as I instinctively grunted a reply and freed myself from the zero-gravity sleeping bag, frowning hard to try and clear up the field of fogged vision.
"Here, for you," the voice continued, then the aforementioned furry thing finds it's way into my hands.

Having a shorter-ranged object to focus on, calibration of the optical sensors proceeded at a much faster rate. It was a fine brown fur hat with flaps that could be folded down over the ears - it looked to be suited to planetary winters. On the front there was a red military-looking badge. I put it on without a farther thought, much to my surprise it fit perfectly.

"Ah. Thank you," I growled, staring at the person before me then looking from black leather boots to white mane and ponytail rather rudely.
"You wolf, stop that," she said seriously, "find something else to eat."
"Excuse me, I've just realized that the best way to get a captain make a fool out of himself is to wake him up with a fur hat in the face."
"I saw the door to your quarters open, and could not resist. Clumsy forgetful boy of a captain are you?"
"Eh?" The frown and the glare hadn't subsided, this combined with a nose-low facial stance. Well, blame my weariness. Don't tell anyone, y'hear?

As she doesn't continue, I take the time to turn around to fold up and stow the sleeping bag, then pat down my uniform and check inventory, taking a few deep breaths - always the wiser to rest fully dressed, lest find yourself in skivvies as the call to battle-stations blare forth. Then forced myself to stop frowning. Turning back around, I noticed her looking quite resented, staring off into space. She got right to the point.

"Are you mad at me?"
"About last 'night'? Well..."
"I know, it's not befitting of me to act in such a manner, but I've not the chance to ever express such thoughts, or found one who'd listen and not call me weak just for that. I'm... sorry."
"No one is born perfect, we do not have to act as we were. I know how you feel, do not apologize."
A pause in the conversation ensues, as she took some comfort from my words.
"You look good..." She stops halfway, then turns her face aside, closing her eyes for a moment.
"Is something wrong?"
"I meant to ask one last thing about your past, but I should not impose on you farther. I won't wish the less bright side of your history affect you as it did me."
"Ask away. Try me."
"You asked for it..." She threatens, glaring with nose low as if imitating my unintended posture while adding more to it. She-wolf.
"Don't eat me."
"Oh, you're silly in a good way. Fine - you mentioned you were universally mocked while young, and that is a rather large frame of time. How did you feel while you were unintentionally made a laughing stock?"
"Nothing." I replied with no hesitation.
"I see you aren't hiding anything - but why is that? Most would make a huge issue out of such."
"Most of those reasons of mockery originate from blind assumptions. Since ultimately the majority of my peers seem apt to live with false truths of their own creation instead of using diplomacy to seek confirmation on baseless rumors, I leave their choice as it is. Having no one able to follow your trail is a huge advantage, especially if you'd maintain good relations with those who matter, bypassing the usual obstacles of bureaucracy, along with the typical social trends of your age group. You get where you wish to, you clarify your standing with strategic partners, leaving everyone else in the dust. Others burn their bridges at their own discretion - You counterattack at your own will while allies willingly follow your lead without question if and when you've proven yourself in whatever task or standing."
"That wisdom, and your sense of pride, was and is totally unlike your age."
"Pride does have its uses provided set in the right place, and boosts morale. But I'd say that if members of your own family would join the roving bands of naysayers as above then use that to suppress my development for the gain of another, it is time to leave or kick out certain sources of trouble. But enough of this, you know what I speak of."
"Then tell me why teenagers are seen that badly as they are today, of course, we have grown way out of that. But I'm still curious for your... analysis on the subject."
"You cannot make a judgment without first understanding all the various parties involved. Certain religions teachings advise otherwise but I follow none of them for I find making your own decisions is a gift from those who watch. I follow their lead by making sure my chain of thought does not exist on the expense of others around me."
"Avoiding my questions is not wise, male." She grins, obviously jesting in our usual manner.
"But yet I do not run away from the point - as that is where you should base your analytical sessions on, then work from there. For instance, you enquire as to why a older population would demean that of the younger generation. Why would they think in such a manner? You do not simply apply an assumption and then give a label of 'whatever' as another attempts to correct that based on factors relating to the present matter of discussion. Closed minds will not solve anything and have not solved anything in history."

I then continued in typical long-winded fashion, but you, the reader, shall henceforth be spared the torment of that. You get the point already. Besides, I was and still am sick of describing this same matter over and over again to the older population. Stop looking at me that way!

"I'm impressed. Not many think, and lead, like you do."
"I'm flattered, but then again I do have my flaws," I replied, and meaning it, "not that you aren't enjoying yourself noting them already."
"It is for the sake of our crew and mission that I do that, not to mock, but to offer criticism where necessary. If you take that seriously and truthfully, good. If not, I take command. Quite alike to principle as yours, no?" Most would say harsh, but I, or rather we, generally get along well with those who seek not to operate at the expense of others. Otherwise they can learn not to. There is no question of that.
"Much more direct, but yes."
"Good. But as it stands I've no criticism for you."
"You mean I'm not a clumsy boy of a captain?"
She raises a brow.
"If you were, you'd be out of the nearest airlock when the crew mutiny or are groveling before me right now. Not being praised." She seems quite familiar with crappy commanders.
"Ha. Bow before your superior."
"Tempting offer, male, but I am not going to play into that little game of yours."
Much grinning ensues as wordplay with utterly weird [to most of you] senses of humor continues for a little while.

"You aren't here just for this conversation or to offer me gifts, lady."
"How much time have we until we go on-duty?"
I glanced at the wrist datapad, "30 minutes," then continued, "Not planning any 'subversive activities' are you?"
"You still do not know my name."
"As I said-"
"Do you even check the personnel roster captain boy, or can a hundred or two extra passengers stow onboard without you knowing?"
Laughing, I replied, "You are listed as 'Captain Soban' when I reviewed the crew roster before we went underway. For a moment I thought it was -the- Captain Soban from the Vagyr War, until I classified identities by gender."
"Chauvinist. Now, there are pages of detailed information on each crewmember available, you know? Including their full name?"
"I prefer not to infringe on the privacy of the crew needlessly. And I am not the one in charge of personnel affairs - not officially, at least." Indeed a commanding officer has authority to view the personal records of each and every crewmember of a vessel. With electronic documentation and modern networking you can't hide anything. Or erase a black mark on your record once registered.
"Fair enough. I advise you to make an exception for my person."
"Why?"
"With your experiences from your growing up years you undoubtedly are very critical regarding a person's loyalty. I won't blame you for that - most nowadays would rather hide their flaws and give nasty surprises later on than to leave them open to criticism, and correction."
"Being too open to the world these days can have fatal consequences. Again, both sides of the argument balance each other."
"Stuff it, treehugging druid."
"Stuff you too."
"Augh!" With that, she crosses her arms, as I involuntarily observe her folded up sleeves and elbow-length leather gloves covering her arms. Good sense of style if I might add.
"We should get to the point, and your mother dresses you funny," I jested.
"Fine fine, I'm your laughing stock now."
"Forgive me, but I do like your manner of appearance - and many of your species resort of vanity yet look as bad as they were before." No trace of makeup on her, and I admit I haven't touched a comb myself for more than a decade.
"Good point, and the hat fits you more than well. Ever thought that I might be stalking you?"
"'One's desires should not be mentioned openly, lest Murphy's Law take hold'" I quoted myself.
"Hah. Fine, we shan't speak of this, and it is not your place to comment on my style, lest ye summon my wrath," giving a "hmph" as she raises her chin.
"Where were we?"
"Check my file."
"I do not wish to."
"For me. I need you to know something."
"As you wish."

Floating towards the rather spartan cabin's [it is not in the interest of the HGN to create palaces of officers' quarters then stuff the crew into a veritable sardine can] computer terminal, I proceeded to log in as the lady stuffs herself into the nearest "couch" after securing the door. Conventional beds and couches obviously cannot function in zero-gravity for obvious reasons, thus spaceborne "beds" are in the form of vertically-set sleeping bags, and "couches" for relaxation are places where you can stow yourself into soft cushions, with minimal volume of space taken up. It can be a chore to get yourself used to sleeping in such provisions, but with some getting used to - and convincing yourself that you're actually lying down, not trying to sleep while standing - it is much more comfortable than any gravity-impaired arrangement.

It took a mere measure of moments to bring up the crew roster on the flatscreen display.

"Go on," she said, looking over my shoulder.
"Authorization?" You're not allowed to view the records of those of like rank and above, without authentication.
"Here. Right, skip the fluff, go to records during the Vagyr-Hiigaran War."
"You were on the Ferin Sha after all..."

It was the flag of the Sobani RTF [hence the taskforce's name, which means "Dancing Grounds", which is a historical locale on now-razed Kharak] operating in support of the Pride of Hiigara. They were invaluable in allowing the Mothership's crew to make way to their vessel. After that they engaged in a series of highly successful intelligence gathering and fast raiding operations on ill-defended portions of the enemy command infrastructure, relaying crucial data back to the Fleet at every turn, then managing to locate the Vagyr leader and his location. Unfortunately they were then tracked down and ambushed within visual range of the Fleet as they attempted to rendezvous.

The task force was virtually annihilated while the Ferin Sha was disabled and loaded aboard a Vagyr Carrier which promptly withdrew. Fortunately the Mothership managed to track the Ferin Sha's distress beacon and plot the Carrier's hyperspace course to its destination. Even though delayed by a Progenitor appearance [and saved by the sacrifice of the Bentusi] then a full-scale Vagyr assault, the Fleet managed to fight their way out of both situations, making good time and finally rescuing the captured Frigate and its crew before they could be subjected to interrogation, smashing though the Vagyr defenders. Although heavy casualties were taken on the line combatant vessels and Strikecraft wings on the assault on the Thaddis Sabbah prison station it was the final word in proving that the Hiigaran Navy is superior to whatever the Vagyr could field if not in raw military power, then in combined arms finesse. That operation was where the actual Prince of Hiigara hull first proved herself in combat action. Fine boat, that. I flew in close formation augmenting point-defense fire as HGN-04 carved her way through the enemy line with streams of superheated hydrogen ions from those heavy ion cannons, secondary armament blazing at smaller craft at the same time. Then they turned about and brought those external weapon systems to bear...

"Go right to the end."
Outlined in bold was "Disclosed complete makeup and force structure of HGN-02 TF under threat of physical harm" and "Openly cooperated with Vagyr personnel to save herself, and in doing so deliberately earned some of their respect".
"I see..."
"I didn't want to! But..."
"It's okay." It isn't, but still, what had occured in the past should be left as it is. No point finding fault on that.
"No, think of all the lives I've put on the line for that."
"We fought through it. We recovered our lost personnel then kicked Makaan into a strategic retreat. All the while wondering why the Vagyr seemed to know of our intentions and each time manage to deploy combat forces en masse. But we went through it. We did our duty."
"And I failed in that. I don't deserve to hear it."
"Actually you did not - I would think it way better if they threw their first-rate warships in our path than to have them bombing some Republican Taiidani world or keeping up the siege at Hiigara. In doing so they practically squandered most of their primary fighting forces into what could be said as a grudge match between two of the newly Unbound over Sajuuk. One that we won. Better us military folks taking the heat than entire civilian cities bombed to oblivion for no reason, as they look skyward, helpless as fusion explosives rain down from orbit. We did not prevent all of that, but at least we might have prevented farther occurrences of such atrocities. I apologize if I sound overly cold on my descriptions. Wartime experience would transform you into such."
"I did not know my failure could be translated into such, but knowing that a score of personnel on our Fleet died... for my actions, it makes me bear a terrible guilt. They didn't want me on the active roster from then on, I spent the rest of the war in the brig. No victory celebrations for me either..."
"Can we live in the shadow of the past, letting it dictate our beings even though it has long gone?"
"Save your words, that's easy for you to say!"
"It is - instead of a dishonorable discharge High Command decides to throw you into this metal can patrolling the back end of the galaxy far from any known civilization..."
"Where I can't do any harm."
"To prove yourself that you are still a capable naval officer, which, from what I see, you are. The S'jet Kiith-sa herself did tell me of this before we set off, but it did not make any sense at that time, now it does," smiling, I continued, "and you still can do considerable harm. Mind you, that hurt."
"Fine, you've won me over. Now, I did not say you can't return that favour," and proceeded to pat her cheek, turning her head sideways. The ponytail continues to float forwards on inertia.
"Masochist..."
"Insulting!"
"I won't harm a lady..."
"Now now, how can you possibly know that the enemy ships the gunnery staff of your glorious FFE have transformed into balls of plasma aren't crewed by Vagyr females?"
Erm, I had not thought of that. Furthermore rather than eject from doomed vessels the Vagyr would rather ram their targets or go down with weapons blazing. They were fanatical pilots and warriors.
"Knew that will stump you. Ha!"
"You're very cruel."
"You sound as if you enjoy that. Well, I could tell from the onset that you won't mind some company. In fact, I did wish for some as well, and I am thankful for your counsel. No wonder you're being referred to as the ship's councilor. No need of a psychological support unit with you about."
"High praise lady, I am not sure I deserve that - I merely do what is necessary is a given point of time."
"You are overly proud yet modest at the same time. How is that balance possible? And you can call me by name. Try that now."
"No reason to right now Instructor Soban."
"As you say... but we should stop our informal close quarters."
"Aye, 10 minutes. Glad I helped you." Time flies. The notion of "no personal relations on-duty" also does stick, and I enjoy adhering to that - not that I've any personal relations. [Really!] Couples are irritating to have around when you've a job to do as a team.
"Farewell," as she leaves the cabin.

I return my attention to the computer display, logging off from military data access mode. Despite my current career I make it a point to maintain relations with contacts of the past, and fans of my old project still being used as it is intended. Someday I shall return to development of it, perhaps updating my simulated Hiigaran Naval vessels with the cutting edge of unclassified technology, but until then communiqués with obscure personas like "gthompsn", "yasotay", "Varrok", "Avatar Terminus", and quite many others are interesting enough. Aerospace and subsurface vehicle experience included. But I have to wonder what do those callsigns mean? No harm asking I think... although such messages are only en route when the daily courier transport arrives to offload physical mail, supplies and transfer data in exchange for reactor fuel to hyperjump back where it came, these being far too low-priority for FTL burst transmissions and all.

It was in the midst of typing out my messages - I am not an advocate of vocal registration of words - when I realized I had forgotten the blade I was wearing all along on the left waist since last "night". Drawing it with my right hand almost halfheartedly and holding it right side up at eye level like some ancient warrior reviewing his first sword, I was almost instantly drawn to the dozen notches gently chiseled into the base of the slightly curved blade, I knew what they meant, as we warship crews would frequently order our "kills" marked on the hulls beside the Navy emblem. Looking farther up, I noted notches on the cutting edge, indicating improper parrying techniques perhaps while still in a learning stage. Farther evidence of heavy use can also be seen, along with visible damage at various places, including what looks like a mark from a bullet that struck me most, however unlikely that a blade would be used to parry a firearm successfully and the blade still intact with the wielder unharmed. A life in Kiith Soban isn't a walkover, but most important was that despite a person's hardships, the spirit remains. Whatever the reason of Soban being the "Kiith of Spirit", I find this notion appropriate at this time. This weapon has as much personality as the person owning it and obviously had protected her from harm; I'd loathe to keep it for myself even as a gift. Or was it meant for my possession along with its implications? This isn't to be taken lightly, I told myself.

writer's notes

That's the last of the informal conversations this "day" in the fiction. Now to get inspiration for the "on the job" aspect. Hope ye all do not mind the Relic boardies' reference - it gives a rather good relation to "realism".

And where do I get a Red Army ushanka? :) [Russian fur hat]

Hope to get to fly an [simulated] FFE before I go into the Army, in 7 days from now.

Backgrounds of the various kiith can be found in the HW1 manual. Remember, believability and adherence to PDS gameplay/Relic's universe, not "coolness factor" :)

Tel, tell us more!!!

Yes!

Ion, I wasn't making a comment on how Star Wars is scientifically credible (its not), I was just saying that because I read books like that, I can understand what Tel's talking about without having to buy a SF dictionary :)

kenahk's fiction is also doing well :)

Heres gthompsn's essay on Hiigaran Naval ranks [I'm a mere bottom feeder under all the flag ranks - and no hero :) ]


Tel'Qessir, for your fiction, suggested rank structures follow. I do not like the confusion generated by having very different rank names between ground-pounders and Navy. I also do not like the way "Colonel" (which sounds a lot like Corporal) gets verbally mangled into "Kernel" (I'm not complaining much though since I think a full "bird" Army type should always play Corporal to a full "bird" Navy type -- sorry Yasotay, just my service bias coming through).

Anyway, since an _INTERPLANETARY_ navy would have far more significant reach/influence than a wet navy, I think the ranks should be expanded/modified as noted.

Emperor ~ 5 stars w wreath.

(Grand Admiral) ~ 5 stars, would have regional responsibilities analogous to "CINCPAC" (Comander In Chief, Pacific Fleet), "CENTCOM", etc.


(Fleet) Admiral ~ 4 stars, would have responsibilities analogous to "Commander, 5th Fleet".


Vice Admiral ~ 3 stars
Special designated positions would be CNP (Chief of Naval Personnel -- Obviously not involved in filling billets for flag ranks), CNA (Chief of Naval Air forces), CNR (Chief of Naval Reactors), C3i (Combat, Command, Control and Information systems), CSC (commandant for "Survey Command", the space exploration arm of the Navy), CCG (Commandant of the Coast Guard, probably should be changed to "CSW" for "SkyWatch" -- but, you probably can appreciate how rigidly tradition-bound military organizations are [which is why my cleanup of the rank names, etc would probably never fly except in fiction], so something as anachronistic as a "Coast Guard" in space might be the author's way of poking fun at these idiosyncracies), JAG (line officer), SSC (Supply Systems Command, line officer).

Rear Admiral ~ 2 stars


(Commodore) ~ 1 star
---
(FleetCaptain) ~ "bird" w wreath to denote CMH worthy combat leadership and not in the strict rank structure.
---
Captain
Commander
Lieutenant Commander
Lieutenant
Lieutenant jg (i.e. "Junior Grade") || CWO1
Ensign || CWO2
(Cadet) || CWO3
(CWO4)
(CWO5)
---
(CCPO) ~ Command Chief Petty Officer
MCPO ~ Master Chief Petty Officer
SCPO ~ Senior Chief Petty Officer
CPO
PO1
PO2
PO3
(PO4)
(PO5)
Seaman
? >> 'Trainee' (my senility prevents me from remembering what this level is actually called)
Recruit

Now, I would suggest replacing "Captain" through "Ensign" with extended ranks of "Captain sg/jg", "Major sg/jg" and "1st Lieutenant" through "5th Lieutenant", "Ensign sg/jg" and "Cadet sg/jg".

Since time immemorial, a one-star was a "Commodore" but in more enlightened (cough, cough) times we have "Rear Admiral Upper Half" (2 star) and "Rear Admiral Lower Half" (1 star). Nonsense. I also suggest changing "Admiral" (modern 4 star) to "Fleet Admiral" and "Fleet Admiral" (modern 5 star) to "Grand Admiral".

Since 'flag' ranks are way over-bloated today, I do not think there should be an increase in number of officers serving in those slots in a space-navy numbering millions of personnel compared to the USA's wet-navy staffing (for a mere 571,000 personnel).

Since space-navy concerns/responsibilities dwarf the responsibilities of futuristic Army/Marine/Police forces, I also propose the following rank changes :

Marshall ~ 3 star
Special designations would be DCI (Director of Central Intelligence), COP(Chief of Police and Army Reserves), COS (Army Chief of Staff), CMC (Commandant of the Marince Corps), MSG (Military Surgeon General, line officer).

General ~ 2 star

Brigadier ~ 1 star
--
NOTE officer rank names would be the same as space-navy ranks. I do think that there needs to be some changes to the enlisted titles. I think that since Naval ratings of "Petty Officer" are essentially technician roles, it would be appropriate to keep "Sargent", "Soldier", "Private", "Recruit" for hand-to-hand combat role designations (and apply them to Naval positions that do the same like SEALs) with appropriate re-naming of the other enlisted combat roles as necessary.

Let me know what you think.


And my reply - sorry, I have no time to compile these into proper posts, and are content of recent PMs.


My god, I thought I was at the top of the food chain - well, still am in my station :) Joking, I know admirals and stuff but not that many flag ranks :)

Good point about the Cpt. Sg/Jg, I'll take the smaller one probably.

One correction - the Hiigaran Navy doesn't have millions of personnel, but currently are quite spread thin as they somehow inherited pretty much the entire galaxy. Sure, we can create big fleets in 2 hours in HW2, but resources and crew [most important], are another story. Won't go to magically huge fleets like all other fiction out there. It leads to one hero and stupidly high casualties, not my style of writing. Like PDS, combined arms and committing right assets at the right time is the key feature :)

Compared to the "real world", this is like the US Armed Forces relying on fast-response brigade combat teams getting to hot spots via airlifting instead of mobilizing huge land divisions like in Desert Storm.

In strategic locations shipyard stations serve as resupply points for the various task forces [both combat and not], and in a state of emergency [general war] will be the centrepiece of a warring fleet, much like in the Ascension campaign. Since FTL [faster than light/hyperspace] comms to Hiigara is reserved for high-priority military traffic courier ships also shuttle data here and there. So independently operating ships would periodically visit the local shipyard to take on data [also for equivalent of email, online content, and such PMs :) ] as well as supplies if necessary. Again Eye of Arran HS net is useful - but only to traverse to the general area - ship has to get position fix on the destination [fleet message like what you subs have, only in FTL in this case] then jump to the direct spot at the correct orbital velocity. Data given in the FTL of course.

Alternative is transmit across the whole galaxy via RF - it'll take a decades if not millenia :)

In "peacetime" the station can also serve as a trading/diplomatic installation, provided there's suitable routes and points of commerce about, this negates need to deploy trading stations and provides ample security for their designated area of responsibility. [If say, operating in Republican space] Of course, the one I'm in is in a backwater sector, but things might just get hectic soon enough...

Obviously having wartime complements on board these stations would be prohibitive - reinforcement for war rely on the Eye of Arran gates to get to the general sector of operations, then mass personnel and combat forces as fast as possible - much like Desert Storm/Shield was but in a far shorter timeframe. Peacetime complements would be bolstered by full crew and robotics units, and the CO "reassigned" or "relieved" if necessary. Curse the brass :) Security wing of couse will form the initial combat teams under new command.

Now for PDS update:

Little thoughts on submarine countermeasures led me to start work on real countermeasures for FFEs in PDS. Now I can evade missiles :)

See PDS thread for details - am also posting your ranks essay and this one to the fiction thread to save time - don't have that much time on my hands :)

wow... good so far but... very very very detailed. Good sir, I thought I was long winded, but you kick my butt ;) However, for your character and persona in the story, being an intelligent and very detailed person, the intense detail is appropriate.

Even your detail in combat scenes is intense. It works well enough so far, I think, maybe occasionally it slowed down the reader from an excited fast-paced battle scene read, but not too badly. You at least give a very clear picture of what is going on.

Glad my tale entertains you :) But writing depends on inspiration - if I force myself to do anything there won't be any quality left. Working in the chain of chaos of reality should provide ample data on the rest of the chapter, best case is if I can freely relate reality to fiction, like I do for the conversations and social support matters above. Don't get your hopes up though - I take my commitments seriously [as you can see in my character's history] and life in the real military would in all probably eat up all my conciousness :)

Did a full weapons refit for the Escort Frigate in PDS, and just why this chapter is called "Fox and Hunters" you can see in the prototype taskforce composition therin [as well as the FFE's "real" loadout - not just two kinetic autocannon mounts, that's typical of modern games and utterly boring/unrealistic] :)

Glad my tale entertains you :) But writing depends on inspiration - if I force myself to do anything there won't be any quality left. Working in the chain of chaos of reality should provide ample data on the rest of the chapter, best case is if I can freely relate reality to fiction, like I do for the conversations and social support matters above. Don't get your hopes up though - I take my commitments seriously due to choices&past experiences [as you can see in my character's history] and life in the real military would in all probably eat up all my conciousness :)

Did a full weapons refit for the Escort Frigate in PDS, and just why this chapter is called "Fox and Hunters" you can see in the prototype taskforce composition therin [as well as the FFE's "real" loadout - not just two kinetic autocannon mounts, that's typical of modern games and utterly boring/unrealistic] :)

See this page/post for details
http://forums.relicnews.com/showthr...9377#post379377

Ahem. Tons of fragmented sentences and poor grammar.

The whole pile of words has been... modernized somewhat. Blame my weariness :)

Another round of 'modernization'. Impressive array of grammar/spelling errors.


Wine,weariness, and wrestling with self-learned english do not mix :)

***************************************

A mere speck compared to the huge, ancient hyperspace gate complex, the Hiigaran Naval Auxillary Courier Transport #279 distances itself from the transition ring as its blue glow diminishes, the quantum waveform dissipating after the transiting vessel completed its session of hyperspace tunneling, a thousand light years away from the gate it originated from.

Passing a free-floating structure twice larger than itself surrounded by a loose cluster of defensive platforms obviously placed far more recently than the gargantuan complex, the Utility Frigate changes its vector with a burst of both cold-gas and plasma thrusters, then accelerates from port speed such that they can clear the mass signature of the gate complex to engage their own hyperspace drives to their next destination in a practical period of time.

A network of interlinked gates spanning the galaxy, built by the Progenitors more than ten millenia ago, the Eye of Arran allows starfaring vessels to transit almost everywhere across known space, provided they had the necessary permission from their current owners - the Hiigarans. Without proper authentication codes transmitted to the local automated control station, which in turn relays the necessary commands to the actual gate control, it would simply be yet another big chunk of ancient derelict.

"Everywhere across known space", yes, but it will be impractical for various reasons to deploy such massive investments at every single habited planet, so these gates would get you to a general area, leaving you free to expend reactor fuel just to jump to the destination instead of doing multiple maximum range transitions. In fact, construction of such scale evidenced by those gates are virtually impossible with present day space technology - and these derelicts somehow, still function perfectly for their intended purpose despite their age. What the Progenitors did was to place these gates in strategic locations of the galactic starmap, yet hidden in the vast expanse of deep space. No one after all, could practically go through interstellar volumes with a comb, searching for some needle in a haystack - only that you do not know that you are looking for a needle. With non-reflective hull plating, or perhaps their external coatings were weathered by cosmic radiation over time, Progenitor structures also are virtually invisible to optical scrying [via the modern equivalent of astronomical telescopes] as they do not reflect starlight as well as say, a moon, planet or large vessel, and while in their non-activated states, have zero emissions or clues as to their purpose.

Only the possession of a certain artifact would grant one the location to and activation of these impressive technological marvels, and that as we all know, is the Progenitors' flagship - Sajuuk. Hidden in the black hole cluster at the centre of the galaxy and accessible only by the Balcora hyperspace gate, which requires an operational Progenitor Dreadnaught for activation, it was the stage of one of the largest fleet battles during the Vagyr Invasion. Makaan's forces opposing the Pride of Hiigara was in a state of hasty retreat, and after a couple of failed delaying actions, had fled to the location of the derelict Sajuuk, which was until very recently seen as the centrepiece of religion. No one knows exactly as to the role of the Progenitors and naught but their artifacts and derelicts [along with still-operational drone warships whose AI would kill on detection and stalk you across the entire galaxy until achieving that goal], but the name of the flagship had somehow passed down the countless generations of various galactic races in religious stature, indicating a potential for a theory of origin, they were perhaps our former masters, this bolstered by our extremely primitive technology compared to those ancient relics, yet ship control systems and operating routines remain compatible and alike with that of modern times.

In fact, there was an experimental Escort Carrier concept that ended up with a ship design almost identical to that of the Progenitor Keepers. Its Attack Drones were also identical to the Progenitors' equivalent abeit the fact both ship classes run on present-day doctrine and technology.

The tactical situation for the battle over Sajuuk was simple - the fleet that manages to secure the 3 Hyperspace Cores required for Sajuuk's power source will win the war. The Hiigarans had managed to secure two of the three then, and the other on board Makaan's flagship. But we all know the result of that battle and the war - and how it leads to the discovery of the Eye of Arran network. I would not wish to say more either - seeing all those Vagyr battlewagons clustered around the Valdez [Makaan's flagship] is a nightmarish topic in itself.

Now, with their sphere of influence suddenly spanning virtually the entire galaxy, the Eye of Arran network is the sole backbone of the Hiigaran Navy's deployment plan. Like a rural sherrif somehow becoming the police division of a city by himself, the HGN's situation is remarkably similar. Trade routes between planets with good diplomatic relations need to be maintained and defended against raider factions, some planets still in colonial state require constant attention in the imports and exports field, yet worse, the Vagyr were apt to raze cities if not entire planets of races that dared stand before their invasion - survivors of which are in a critical need of rebuilding and trade in order to regain self-sustenance. Without the Bentusi to run a neutral trading infrastructure open to all spacefaring races, and with Hiigara being the sole prince of the galaxy, where would all the finger-points of responsibility go? The answer is obvious. Therefore like the single sherrif in charge of an entire city he needs to try and prevent problems from forming way before they become an issue - as when that happens it'll multiply in a chain reaction - and strike down with overwhelming force in short order if necessary, with the same agenda if preventive measures fail. Can a single sheriff be the police division of the city? Yes, he just needs to keep everyone on the right mindset, as populations after all are power in their own right if they understand and support your agenda [fairness and no operating at the expense of others is key for a long term in office], and at the same time know everything that goes on. Very difficult, yet nothing is impossible with the right will. This is yet another hint as to the mission of Captain Dy'neren's shipyard station on patrol in some backwater sector of the galaxy. However with much on his mind he had not described it to you yet, has he? He'll do so in due time. Or I'll make him if it turns out otherwise.

Courier boat #279 now way out of magnetic and mass influence of the Eye of Arran gate node, it now waits for a pair of scheduled FTL transmissions from both its destination, and Fleet Intelligence on Hiigara. Both of them would be aimed at the general area of the hyperspace gate. These will confirm the present location of it's objective, and the required orbital velocity required on hyperspace exit. If those critical data messages are not received, the crew of the ship have two choices. One, to proceed to an earlier set of coordinates and data recorded by Fleet Intelligence and hope the target is still in the general location after predicting its orbital track. Two, abort mission [the wiser choice in "hot spots"] and divert to the nearest Hiigaran Naval outpost, which, is in most cases on far-from-home deployments refers to another shipyard station. More often than not the notion of "nearest" means returning to base - naval assets do not magically sprout out everywhere, especially given the spread-very-thin nature of the HGN. You can now see that scheduling and prior planning is critical for naval operations - participating in shooting wars are just one tiny requirement and aspect of the activities done by naval militaries, unless perhaps if you were a spaceborne pirate randomly looting trading vessels and dueling fellow outlaws for assets. Even then you'd need some sort of general operations plan or you'd inevitably end up with a very short career.

Two FTL messages, two identical contents, the mission continues. It is standard procedure to receive a daily courier transport, that offloads supplies and/or physical mail, updates the station's databanks [remember that faster-than-light transmissions are limited to short bursts, and limited to high priority military traffic], and refuels for the hyperspace jumps back to base while at the same time having some shore leave. If desired the receiving station can send items back to Hiigara, or at times requests were made regarding the provision of specific items to another naval outpost in return for various non-personal favours [obviously!] or a trade. Items in this case can also apply to weaponry and small ships up to Corvette-class, though these trades of military hardware are prohibited except where Fleet Command or Intelligence authorizes unit transfers. Local commanders however are permitted to act where the situation calls for such measures, when for example, a station in a neighbouring sector requires immediate reinforcement and has sent for help via FTL or courier. It is understood that centralized command and control is detrimental to initiative, thus leeways are given within the bounds of reason.

Looking farther at military FTL procedures, positional data along with simple situation reports are typically sent to Hiigara on an hourly basis, as a "just to know you're ok" routine. This also allows Strategic Command to optimize their trajectory prediction routines. If a tactical battle management system is complex already, imagine being capable of overseeing the deployment and logistics state of an entire navy, spread thin as it is. In a state of general war the Eye of Arran network would be used to rapidly mass assets up to what is required given the operational situation, the shipyard station on patrol in the area of operations being the centrepiece of the battlegroup, its security wing and Scout squadrons forming the core of the initial force projection assets. While full-scale ground deployments of planetary land armies can take months, with fast-response brigade combat teams and air support on-site within 24 hours rolling off transport aircraft ready to fight, a warring spaceborne taskforce might merely take hours to prepare for war, with special operations forces like Sobani RTFs taking even less time. Local security forces? At times they swing right from normal "peactime" trading/patrolling moods to battle-stations instantly. These must hold their ground until Fleet sends reinforcement if the situation escalates, if not they have free reign on their operations, at the sole discretion of the local commander. Each stage of also technology brings about a faster pace and lesser margin of errors - while the standard of warfare remains the same: controlled chaos.

To end this chapter's descriptive phase, shipyard stations while on deployment to so-called "civilized" regions of space it is customary to provide standard trading interfaces, along with Hiigaran-manufactured goods to trade with and the necessary cargo handling, berthing and ship maintenence facilities to service visiting craft. Trading of military hardware and restricted items are of course prohibited, but the stations are open to neutral factions and private shipowners provided they allow themselves to be subjected to a background check coordinating with local or racial-specific authorities if necessary - no one wishes potential saboteurs or those possessing ill wills on board. You can, if you've enough financial resources to squander and the required ownership licenses, purchase custom-configured civilian transports or unarmed versions of small, general purpose warships, but not the real deal seen in the Navy. Being very much busier, those stations also typically have a much higher crew number than what is seen in the earlier chapters, with emphasis on diplomatic units, space traffic control crew and security personnel. Thus while projecting a policing presence and military basing to ease the mind of allied governments with insecure hearts, those stations also provide a fair, unbiased, and secure locale to trade on, as far as their deployment agenda is concerned. Some complain that the Bentusi harbour ships were far better but I think they require a reality check - or try and start their own trading company. And design their own ships while they're at it.

*gulp* I recited personal history as I did in this fiction in the real military when interviewed by 2 officers.

It turned out impressive and practical.

Problem - no time to write.

The quality of your prose is about what I'd expect from a 19-year-old who has enough focus to sit down and churn it out. Your prose will mature and develop as you do, as writing is very much about life-experiences.

Anything constructive? No.

Anything worthy of discussion? No.

Therefore, yet another useless post from a person with a four-letter name in capitals. Yay.

Have you considered my writing is definately supposed to sound that way? :)
Or must you keep contradicting yourself?

Hey Tel! Nice and entertaining story you got there ... keep it up! BTW I want my HGN Indomitable! :D

Damn, I forgot about the CVC concept :)

Incredible detail, per usual. So far most everything seems to fit in with HW canon, just be careful. The FTL stuff is all a little extrapolatory, but still believable and plausible at least, for HW.

Admittedly, the detail can become tedious at times, and one wonders where the plot is going, but a true fan of HW remains interested.

Valid point - thus far the plot is not guided by anything but inspiration derived from RL experiences.

The modification the fiction is based on has the playerbase guided by the product. [Wierd, but works] One does not need to specifically impose authority for leadership at times.

It all depends on the situation.

Back on topic, Chp3 documents Frigate-class operations with support from semi-independent hunter-killer detachments of Strikecraft in a non-simulated environment.

Your typical detailed log as in other aspects of this fiction from vessel crewing, preflight, launch, the sortie itself, combined arms operations, then docking back at the SY for crew transfer, repairs and replenishment [if necessary].

As well developing the plot [ships are not deployed without reason :) ]

Progress - don't expect any at this time, but as we all know spontaneous inspiration provides far better quality in a product than forced innovation.

Of course, take your time.

The second portion of this update is actually a part of the latter of this chapter. I'm just experimenting with FFE startup sequences, as well as changes to writing style you can see in this below continuation of chp III.


********************************************





Lieutenant Ra’shir glanced around the spartan bridge compartment of the former boarding assault vessel, looking over his crew as they stare intently at their respective, by-now obsolete but still functional flat panel displays, and the hyperspace exit timer on the ceiling before the bridge transparency providing a view of the aging hull forging its way forward though the blue quantum tunnel.

“Thirty seconds to hyperspace exit,” he announced, “all stations report status.”

“Nav to Conn, we are on target”
“Engineering OK”
“Comms OK”
“Guns on safe, cargo stable”
“Helm standing by”

Satisfied that all is in order, Ra’shir leans back in his seat, tightening the restraints just in case, eyes scanning across the various display windows set on the command console before him, the display tiny by today’s standards. Closing his eyes for a moment and sweeping a hand though graying hair, he remembers the time when this particular Frigate wasn’t hauling cargo between remote naval outposts but on the forefront of the battle on the enemy’s side, executing forced boarding actions on hostile vessels as allied forces attempt to prevent them from countering the infiltrators.

It was a gratifying job delivering teams of Marines through enemy hulls, but it was an extremely dangerous task frequently done under fire as hostile commanders would focus all attention on not losing their combatants by all means possible; so-designated FFMs were optimized for acceleration and heavier armoured than the rest of the Fleet’s Frigates as a result.

Survivability could be measured in tens of seconds if the FFM detachments were not supported adequately – boarding assault operations ultimately depend on their supporting arms for success, whose condition is latching on to the hostile vessel and deploying boarding tubes once breaching the hull. The only thing capable of defending against elite powersuited infantry once inside is other powersuited infantry, or scuttling the vessel by friendly fire or deliberate destabilization, an option open only to the most fanatical of commanders. Abandoning crippled boarding assault ships in favour of the prize is commonplace, but LT Ra’shir would not even think of it during the Vagyr Invasion, instead choosing to remain latched as an evacuation transport for the Marines, or fly back to the taskforce command vessel to replace battered external armour plating and take on more boarders for the next mission.

His attachment to his vessel ultimately resulted in serious injury and loss of his bridge crew [classified ‘non-combatant hull’, FFMs and other Utility Frigates were not provided with battle management facilities] when attempting to break contact and withdraw after a daring ‘confiscation’ of a Vagyr flotilla leader. Their escorts were not amused and gutted the fleeting FFM, leaving the charred hulk for dead as Hiigaran lineships engaged their opposing number.

Salvaged, refurbished, stripped of armour plating and forced-boarding related articles, Resolution now served the Fleet as a courier transport. Its commander medically unfit for promotion, he was assigned to command the same hull in a different designation and role, seeing his refusal to partake in desk jobs or resign from the Navy in favour of better-paying civilian careers.

The timer counted down from ten, and the two pilots seated just before the commander’s position look over their instrument panels and tighten the grip on their controls.

Grunting as the quantum tunnel belches the ship back into normal space, Ra’shir immediately looked to the navigation console and its operator, a young junior lieutenant, who knew his role more than well, despite his tiny stature.

“We are slightly off target, naval outpost 36 at our port bow, 100 kilometres linear distance, minimal deviation from projected trajectory.”

“Thank you, lieutenant. Comms, hail the shipyard, helm, start off towards it at tactical speed.”

A pair of “aye sirs” followed, as the communications officer made the hail.

“Shipyard Tiara 2 this is Courier Vessel 276, request permission to close distance and override tactical speed.”

There was a short delay owing to both communications latency and records checking on the part of Tiara 2’s space control crew.

“276, you are on time and clear for closure. Navigation velocity is at your discretion. Escorts are callsigns Interceptor 5 and Recon 1 and will form up on your trajectory, transmit authentication and manifest once we are close enough to establish secure datalink. Have a good morning. Out.”

“Conn to helm, intercept the Shipyard. Comms and Nav, coordinate with the escort fighters.”

Their new taskings sent wordlessly via datalink, Interceptor 5 and Recon 1 depart to escort 276 with a burst of maneuvering thrusters, engines flaring and leaving an incandescent ionic trail, as the courier transport proceeds at full burn towards their destination. By the time it has reached a suitably hasty closure rate yet within the bounds of safety, the two escort fighters had matched trajectories and were executing sweeping ‘S’ turns, maintaining their vigilance and forsaking the comfort of a close escort disposition for reduced vulnerability and a tactical advantage should an attack occur.














*******************************

“Helm, propulsion, ready for engine start sequence,” enthusiastically relayed one of the two engineers, the FFE barely departing the maw of Tiara 2’s launch bay.

“Startup in 15. CIC report,” I ordered, amid polishing the configuration of the maneuvering software and ship control station’s MFDs, while the co-pilot did the same.

“Fusion chambers primed, all systems green”
“APUs operating normally”
“NAV standing by”
“Tactical awaiting datalink and fusion power”
“Comms ready”
“Gunners ready – weapons safe”

That was the entire ship complement.

“Fox 1 to Tiara, we are go for engine start”
“Roger that, good luck sir”
“Luck received – go tend to number two”

“Propulsion, helm, fire em up. All other stations – standard operating procedures”

“Acknowledged. Charging starter capacitors on engines 1, 2, 3, and ready.”

Drawing power from the auxilliary power units, the starters used electrical charges to hike the temperature within the engine fusion chamber to the required intensity where the premix fuel therein would jumpstart a self-sustaining nuclear fusion reaction. The lighting dimmed as the limited capacity of the APUs were drawn farther upon, as I allowed the ship to drift so as to direct our exhaust away from the Shipyard.

“Ignition on primary engines”

A dull mechanical thump resounded though the small battle management complex, followed immediately by a constant and powerful thrum. Hearing the ship’s note again made me smile to myself as I shifted my gaze methodically between the main display and those of my station.

The ship’s computers automatically stabilizing and maintaining the form of the 3 fusion torches, the engineering crew did not need to report the result, as the new source of power is unleashed into the ship’s plasma and electrical grids, lighting returning to normal intensity. The fusion torches’ exhaust started to accelerate the vessel forwards, but there was no need to maintain a static station at this time.

“Primary engines stable…P&E grids green and under AI management…charging secondary engine starters and bringing APUs offline”
“Fire control – online”
“Tactical systems – online”
“NAV checks out”
“Sensor packages online, no new contacts to report”
“Weapons online – testing turret traverse”

The ship’s primary weaponry are two pairs of rapid-fire kinetic cannon, mounted on turrets on the dorsal and lower fore parts of the ship. Huge compared to their equivalents in planetary weaponry, these weapon systems were on the minute scale with regards to capital ship armament. Each turret was a self-contained modular compartment with its ammunition magazines, requiring only electrical power for operation, and plasma for the equivalent of tracers. The entire jettisonable turret unit rotated on an electromagnetic table and secured to the vessel on bearing tracks in gargantuan proportions. Despite the apparent bulk, traverse rates in excess of 120 degrees per second were possible – and their mass meant you could physically feel the turrets rotating as they affect the ship’s equilibrium.

“Turrets OK”
“Starting secondary engines…now”
“Secondary engines online”
“All systems green and ready for maneuver operations”

“Very good gentlemen.”

Giving a hand signal to the co-pilot for “ahead standard”, I haul on the starboard control stick as the required propulsive power is generated, executing what would be termed a half-loop in aviation terminology, then assigned the flight control computer hold station ahead of the Shipyard, upside down. Without the need for direct ordering, the communications officer reported our status to the space control center, while the co-pilot dials “all stop” to allow the computer to do its job. One must give credit to the command crew’s team spirit, for such coordination is not easily achieved, nor is it a common commodity.

“Fox 1 green”
“Roger that, package Fox is forming up with you”
“Fox 2 is away”

Observing the second FFE leaving the launch bay via visual sensor feed from the mainscreen, it pitched up violently, ignited all five fusion torches, then rolled and accelerated directly towards our FFE on a collision course. Not budging from my position, I watched as it barrel rolled around our vessel at what looked to be a point blank distance, their fusion exhaust stream at full throttle literally blowing us out of position with more than a few external armour panels glowing red-hot.

“Showoff!” I retorted on vessel-to-vessel communications, hauling the big Frigate around in a halo of plasma thrusters and signaling ‘ahead flank’ to the openly smirking co-pilot, as he recovers from having cringed during the close pass. The rest of the crew of course would have more than a few stories from this sortie to gossip about, which I wouldn’t mind. There was, however, no time for games, but I’ll save some time in forming up the package if I get some outbound momentum so as to allow Fox 2 the luxury of not having to reverse their velocity vector completely…