| Author |
II. The Dance of Death (A Symphony in Six Movements) |
Kenny_Naboo
Marshal
Pitch Black
Joined: January 11, 2010
Posts: 3823
From: LobsterTown
|  Posted: 2010-12-12 00:53
Breathe slowly. Take it easy. I had to regulate the air I had left. It was a strange calmness, almost resignation, that I felt as I watched the distant fireworks show through the viewport of the escape pod.
Which side was winning? Guess I'd find out soon enough, depending on who would come pick me up... if they could find me, or if they didn't use me as target practice. Sighing, I continued watching in grim fascination.
Another bright bloom in the void. Whoa, that was a big one. A cruiser or dread perhaps? Whose was it? Another what... few thousand lives ended in a mini supernova? A blaze of glory? Sure didn't feel like it. What glory is there in having your life suddenly and violently snuffed out by thermonuclear death?
I slumped back into the acceleration seat, then opened up the survival kit on the pod wall to the right. Enough water and MRE rations for 5 days, check. Medical kit, check. Glanced to the left, and opened the other box there. 10mm sidearm with a spare 15 round magazine, check. Flare gun with 6 green markers, check.
Oxygen gauge on the top indicated enough to last for 3 days. Heh... ironic. If no one found me, or if I didn't make some kind of planetfall soon, I was going to die of asphyxiation before I starved to death. Just peachy. Perfect.
Hesitating, I thought better of activating the locator beacon before the fireworks show out there ended. I didn't want to attract the attention of some enemy nugget Sierra Hotel wannabe fighter jock out there in need of target practice.
Settling back into the seat, I closed my eyes....
******
Somewhere in Luyten 726-8 A
"Helm, Come left, bearing 325, Pitch up 35."
"Come left, bearing 325, Pitch up 35, Aye Sir", came the acknowledgement. We felt the ship bank to the left and pitch upwards as the helmsman laid in the course corrections.
"Steady as she goes, helm. Keep her in formation with the flagship. Maintain 100 GU separation, level to her rear port quarter.", came the Captain's order. The helmsman again repeated the order and acknowledged it.
"Tactical, update on battlegroup formation."
"Yes sir, we're in alignment with the flagship. The other escorts are also in formation. Hold on.... the last picket ship has just aligned formation. Battlegroup status is now green. Awaiting command from the flagship", came Tactical's reply.
Station keeping was vital in maintaining formation for a battlegroup. Especially more so when it came to jumping. Make a single mistake, and you'd end up coming out of jump on top of each other. Or worse... into each other. Damned embarrassing, but more often than not, damned deadly. A good way to end any captain's career, and many other lives in the process.
"Sir, Communications. We're receiving jump coordinates confirmation from the flagship. Relaying it now to Navigation." I watched as the captain nodded his assent.
I looked at my console and acknowledged the Comms Officer's message. Spreading my index and thumb apart on the touchscreen panel to expand the navigation map, I checked the XYZ coordinates against the map of the system as I rotated it around. Satisfied, I replied, "Sir, Navigation. Coordinates received, checked and confirmed. Exit point is 1500 GUs sunwards of the Tau Ceti gate. Countdown clock is synchronized with the flagship. 3 minutes on my mark. All ships report status green. Mark." The digital display above the main tactical panel started its countdown.
Another day, another countdown, another synchronized ballet in the cold void.
[ This Message was edited by: Kenny_Naboo[+R] on 2010-12-21 17:47 ]
_________________
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Kenny_Naboo
Marshal
Pitch Black
Joined: January 11, 2010
Posts: 3823
From: LobsterTown
| Posted: 2010-12-12 00:55
I looked out the forward viewport and gazed at the flagship only a hundred GUs ahead. Big thing. Pretty too. At just over 1.5 kilometers long, the UWS Resolute, UGTO Command Dread and flagship of Battlegroup 47 filled up most of the forward and starboard viewports on the bridge. Another 400 GUs forward of the Resolute was the similar silhoutte of the UWS Rameses, the EAD assigned as the spearhead of the group. To the aft another two capital ships, a Carrier and a Battle dread (the Sovereign and Imperator) hung about 500 GUs back, slightly above and below our plane. On the Tac view, I noted the rest of the 20 odd escorts arrayed in a ring around the dreadnoughts, them being an assortment of cruisers and destroyers.
This was a lot of firepower for what we were told to "investigate" what happened to the small battlegroup and station orbiting Fargo Rock. Something just didn't feel right. High Command had received some kind of garbled transmission from Fargo only 4 days before. It came in as mostly static, probably messed up by some kind of jamming or solar flare activity perhaps. The rumor mill said that "ICC" was among the transmission remnants received. I guess that was what got Command excited. The 3 flights of scouts dispatched to the scene that same day never came back or even reported in at all. Something smelled here. We could all feel it even if we didn't say it. The Captain sure looked a bit antsy about this one.
"FTL spooling up. In 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, Execute". The autopilot made the jump on the dot and our Torp Cruiser, the UWS Calypso, wrapped itself in a stream of tachyon particles and winked out of existence in a flash of light. The stars in the forward viewport seemed to stretch into streams of blue light... the doppler shift effect of our superluminal transit. Always fascinating. Keeping an eye on the Nav console and timer, I started the countdown once we got to within 15 seconds of our exit point.
At exactly zero, we flashed back into existence in yet another bright fireworks display. Tactical reported that all ships were present and accounted for, and still in formation. This was going well so far. As every station began to go through their post-FTL checklists, the fighter CAP was launched from the Sovereign and Resolute.
Next came the first phase of the operation. Over the encrypted comms the flagship came in, "Resolute Actual, execute Phase 1. All ships activate countermeasures. Send the scouts and decoys through the gate." It had been decided that we were not going to just go through the Tau Ceti gate in force. Not after what happened to those scouts. Not even with the amount of firepower that this battlegroup wielded. We had to be sure what we were up against, and until we knew what we were facing we were going to play it safe. If there was someone or something waiting for us on the other side of that gate, the decoy party would find out soon enough. The rest of the battlegroup proceeded to recharge our FTLs before our turn through the gate.
The decoy party consisting of two gunboat destroyers and a battle cruiser, followed discreetly by a couple of covert op scouts, broke off from the battlegroup and disappeared through the gate. If there were enemies hidden over the other side, they would take the bait. Sending frigates would be too obvious, but no one could possibly ignore targets as tempting as a battle cruiser and her two destroyer escorts. Such was war. It was almost like poker. You needed to bait your opponents with a bet significant enough to get their attention. We raised them three. Now we would see if they'd follow.
A couple of minutes later, the decoy party gave the all clear signal. One by one, the battlegroup proceeded through the gate into Tau Ceti. It was time for Phase Two.
Once again, the Dance of Death.
[ This Message was edited by: Kenny_Naboo[+R] on 2010-12-12 01:02 ]
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Kenny_Naboo
Marshal
Pitch Black
Joined: January 11, 2010
Posts: 3823
From: LobsterTown
| Posted: 2010-12-12 00:56
Coming through the gate under heavy ECM cover, we were pretty sure that we would get at least some time before anyone at Fargo Rock could pick us up. The two covert op scouts which were with the decoy party had already flown on ahead towards the cluster to assess the tactical situation. They picked up an ICC battlegroup orbiting the dark side of Fargo, in between the three planets. So far so good. With Fargo blocking their line-of-sight of us, it would be precious minutes before they spotted us. As the ships spread out into battle formation, "Action stations! Set Condition One throughout the fleet!", came over the PA. The klaxon was sounded, and all stations reported back inside of a minute.
As the scouts drew nearer, the enemy fleet composition and overall tactical situation became clearer. All three planets were already under ICC occupation, but there were only a few infantry divisions deployed on each of the planets' surface. That was a bit odd, deploying only small garrisons on each of those rocks. One would think that they would have had deployed entire dug in divisions by now. It had been what... four days? Plenty of time to do exactly that.
Next, the not so good news. All planetary dictors were active. That meant that we would probably come in under fire from planetary defenses and the enemy ships themselves as we jumped in. We would probably penetrate the dictor field, but not enough to catch them completely off guard.
Lastly, the bad news. The scouts eyeballed three Missile Dreads patrolling deep in the dictor field. Those things were dangerous at range, and if we didn't close the gap quickly enough to take them out, we were going to lose some ships pretty damned fast. The other areas of concern were the Assault and Combat Dread in lower orbit around Fargo. Those, and several Heavy Cruisers and Combat Destroyers around both the dreads. It was becoming apparent that this was not going to be a cakewalk after all. We outnumbered them 3 to 2, but knowing ICC, they were not going to go down without a fight.
Resolute Actual decided that we would split up and jump in on opposite sides of Fargo Rock to catch the ICC in a pincer manuever. Now, hindsight is always 20-20. But then again, which one among us could have claimed to be a clairvoyant anyway?
The plan was to jump the Rameses group in as close as they could on the far side of Tiflis, where the MDs would not have a line of sight on her. The Sovereign would follow the Rameses in and provide long range support with her fighter squadrons. Hopefully they could chew up the MDs some, and draw the attention of the AD and CD at Fargo. After a brief delay, the Resolute and Imperator group would jump in close to Fargo, towards Erebuni, also out of the MDs line-of-sight and then try to manuever around to close in to their rear to get a shot. Hopefully, the sudden appearance of a second dread group would send the ICC into panic and disarray. The plan seemed sound enough.
But of course the saying goes, no plan survives contact with the enemy.
[ This Message was edited by: Kenny_Naboo[+R] on 2010-12-12 00:58 ]
_________________
... in space, no one can hear you scream.....
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Kenny_Naboo
Marshal
Pitch Black
Joined: January 11, 2010
Posts: 3823
From: LobsterTown
| Posted: 2010-12-12 00:59
Calypso was reassigned to the Rameses group for this one. We were about to find out how far we could slice through Tiflis' dictor field. And if we didn't get far enough, we were going to eat a whole hornet's nest of PCMs. Yummy thought. Just somehow, I didn't feel all that hungry there and then.
For the time being, my job was about done. All I had to do was to plot the Tiflis coordinates into the Navcom, along with the standby evac coordinates, and get ready for any E-jump event. Barring that, I was just a spectator and passenger to the hellride that was about to unfold before me.
The clock was started at 30 seconds and counting down. All ships began breaking their existing formations for their new ones. At the designated time, the Rameses/Sovereign group made the jump for Tiflis.
Again, the stars in the forward viewport narrowed to blue slits for only a couple of seconds. Then in a flash of brilliant light, Tiflis filled our starboard viewports. We had made it. We had jumped far enough to put the moon between the MDs and us. The group then executed a curving starboard turn to swing around the far side of Tiflis, with the picket destroyers in the lead running point defense interference against the missiles that the planetary defenses were lobbing at us.
The ICC's reaction was swift. In under a minute, several cruisers and destroyers made a short jump into extreme gun range. Tactical reported, "Multiple bandits 11 o'clock high. 900 GUs out." They were using their advantage at long range gunnery to whittle us down before we could get in close to slug it out. Missiles crisscrossed the void between the two opposing groups, either finding their mark against their targets or being detonated by PD laser fire. Our fightercrafts had to keep their distance from the ICC ships, only being able to fire from medium range just to avoid the pulse waves that were sure to take them out instantly. At the head of the group, one of our Picket Destroyers became the first casualty of this engagement as it blew apart under the combined railgun and missile fire from two Heavy Cruisers. They were playing it well. Hitting us, then moving back, keeping their distance. The damned dictor field was killing us. We were stuck in a tailchase, while they could close in and run back, even doing a short jump if necessary.
It was then that the two Bomber Cruisers at the tail of the group decided to act independently of orders. They turned towards the planet and began raining MIRVs at the only Variance Generator that they could pick up within range. Busy shooting at our ships which were closer, Tiflis defenses completely missed the MIRVs. They impacted on and around the Variance Generator facility, damaging it severely and causing a planetwide brownout.
"Sir, Tactical. Planetary dictor field is down. FTL is at 90% and charging. 10 seconds." No doubt that our destroyers were already good to jump. Rameses Actual came on the horn and ordered all cruisers and destroyers except pickets to make a jump past the line of ICC defenders, straight for the primary objective, the 3 MDs. Both dreads still had about a minute on the FTL clock. If we could make the jump before the ICC could reroute power to the planetary dictor and come back online, we could turn those MDs into spacedust and swing the tide of battle.
This was going to be hairy. As I plotted the exit point about 250 GUs off the port side of the MD group, we came around Tiflis and had a direct line to our primary objective. Tactical announced "Vampires! Vampires inbound! Vampire count is 50 and increasing." Dammit, the MDs had locked on to our group and launched a whole crapload of missiles at us. With just over 20 seconds to impact, we had to make that jump fast. The next 10 seconds proved to be a blur of activity.
"This is Calypso Actual, sending new jump coordinates. All ships jump on my mark. 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, Mark!" One moment, we saw the mass of missiles in our forward viewport, closing their distance to us. The next, that split second familiar blue streak and flash of light, and then there was nothing ahead of us but Erebuni on the port viewport, and three probably very surprised MDs on our starboard.
We had managed to jump past the missiles and into gun range of the primaries. Not all ships had made it through of course. We were missing a Battle Cruiser and another Gunboat Destroyer, probably taken out by the mass of missiles before they were able to make the jump... or worse, jumping into the wall of missiles. We felt the ship bank steeply starboard has we began our attack run.
Over the comms, "Perseus Actual. Flashlight, flashlight, flashlight!". UWS Perseus was the Interdictor Cruiser assigned to our detachment. 'Flashlight' was the signal that she was firing up her dictor. We didn't want the MDs to make a short jump out, and then turn around to pepper us with more vampires. That would be fatal. And with the dictor running, both the Combat and Assault Dreads, and those Heavy Cruisers and Combat Destroyers wouldn't be able to jump in to save their comrades in time.
We were still outside Erebuni's and Fargo's dictor field, which was good. But we didn't have much time as the MDs started running for the planets' overlapping dictor field.
[ This Message was edited by: Kenny_Naboo[+R] on 2010-12-12 10:10 ]
_________________
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Kenny_Naboo
Marshal
Pitch Black
Joined: January 11, 2010
Posts: 3823
From: LobsterTown
| Posted: 2010-12-12 01:00
The entire detachment began opening fire. Beautiful blue-white bolts of death descended on the fleeing MDs as every ship in the detachment began our pursuit. When we got close enough, blinding amber beams joined in the light show. A full salvo of torpedoes caught the trailing MD in her port missile/engine pod. Already belching a trail of blue vapor from various breaches in her hull, we watched as the entire port pod tore itself from the ship. Attitude control was lost as she pitched upwards, then went adrift. All lights on the ship went out instantly, and her engines flamed out. No massive explosion this time. Looks like we managed to score a soft kill. We could board her for intel later. Still 2 more to go.
At that moment, a flash of light appeared in the path of the fleeing MDs. Emerging from the lightshow were the familiar silhouttes of the Rameses and Sovereign. Immediately, emerging from the Rameses was an even more incredible lightshow as she pounded the lead MD with an full-on alpha strike. Sovereign joined in the party on the same MD, and we watched in awe as the second beam alpha from Rameses skewered the MD through port to starboard. This time, the dying dread exploded in a huge incandescent ball of fragments. We felt the shockwave passing us as Calypso got shaken like a leaf in the wind.
"Sir, Tactical. The last MD has taken massive damage from the one that just blew up. She's turning away from the Rameses, going vertical." Bracketed by the dreads and us, the lone surviving MD had nowhere to go but up our Z axis. As she rolled and 'climbed', she presented her widest profile to our field of fire. Desperation move. I almost felt sorry for the crew of the ship as our entire detachment fired on her dorsal hull. The Rameses and Sovereign opened up on her ventral side, and within 15 seconds she too became a colossal roman candle in space.
By then, the rear echelons of our detachments had begun to take fire from the rest of the ICC fleet. Both the ICC dreads and cruiser/destroyer groups had formed up and were hitting us hard from behind. We lost a few ships just turning to face them.
Where the hell was the Resolute group?? They should have been here by now. In the heat of battle, no one had noticed whether they had jumped in or not. The Comms officer began to tune in to their channel, calling for support. Tactical reported, "Sir, we're picking up very heavy jamming from the vicinity of the Luyten Gate. Contacts in the vicinity are fading in and out fast."
Through the channel we heard a garbled: ".... Resolute Actual.... under att... K'luth... dictored.... overwhelming number of...", then the hiss of static. The captain and XO shared a grave look. Of all the... Lobsters? Here? Now?
"Rameses Actual to Calypso. Take your wing, break off, and get back to the gate. Looks like the flag is in trouble. We'll press the attack on Fargo."
The captain acknowledged the order, then turned to me, "Navigation..."
"Already on it, Sir...", I was already plotting a jump back to the gate. "Er.. No good, Sir.... Fargo's dictor field is in the away. We'll have to go around before we have a clear shot at the gate." The Captain growled in acknowledgement and gave Helm the order to make the necessary course changes. At full tilt, it would take us 3 minutes to clear the dictor field. We could only hope that the Resolute would hold out.
[ This Message was edited by: Kenny_Naboo[+R] on 2010-12-12 08:34 ]
_________________
... in space, no one can hear you scream.....
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Kenny_Naboo
Marshal
Pitch Black
Joined: January 11, 2010
Posts: 3823
From: LobsterTown
| Posted: 2010-12-12 01:01
Approaching the edge of the dictor field, we were all tensed, staring at the Tac Panel or out the viewports. I was glancing out the viewports in the direction of Fargo watching the lances of light from the ICC/UGTO engagement when out of the corner of my eye I noticed something shimmering, level off the starboard bow. What was that? I squinted as I tried to focus on it. Nothing... but maybe just...
I called out, "Tactical, do you have anything on our 2 o'clock, level?"
Tactical: "Not a thing... why?"
"I thought I saw something over there. Like some kinda shimmer or distortion in space..."
The XO snapped his head at me and immediately ordered "Tactical! Fire up the ECCM. Go active! Give me a ping now!" Tactical stabbed at the controls and sent out an active ping. Immediately over 10 contacts, all under 400 GUs appeared, spread out in an arc in front of us. Then they faded away as quickly as they appeared.
"Evasive! Hard to port, full pitch down. Relay the warning to the wing. We've got company...."
The captain grimaced as the sudden manuever threw anyone not securely belted down off their feet. To the left, another shimmering mass suddenly materialized into a Krill. The captain screamed at helm to reverse course, and tactical put the pipper on the Krill contact and unleashed a full alpha strike. At that same moment, the bridge was suddenly lit up by a bright green-yellow radiance that engulfed every single viewport. I shielded my eyes as the entire ship shook, receiving a sustained multiple disruptor barrage.
That was the easy part. The zinger came when tactical screamed "Incoming SI!", and the entire world suddenly seemed to turn end over end as we received multiple stellar incinerator hits on our port side. I vaguely recall flying headlong over my console and landing face first on the floor. The main lights went out, replaced by emergency red.
Time seemed to slow down as I picked myself up, dazed. I noticed the XO lying next to me, eyes wide open, staring at me, his head at an odd angle against the console. Then someone grabbed me up and shouted in my face. I couldn't make out what he was saying, so I just stared blankly at him until a hard slap across my face woke me up.
Comms screamed at me. "Nav! Are you OK?? OK? Good. Get back to your station! Marine, get the medic here! The XO's down." I staggered back to the my console and scanned the Tac Panel. Armor was red on the port side, but the hull was still good. Those SIs packed a wallop, dammit.
I could see the captain, bleeding at the forehead, giving out orders, "Helm! Roll her over! Keep our starboard facing that Krill and put some distance between us. Tac! Keep firing. Get the rest of the wing to focus fire on that freakin' Krill." I scanned the Tac panel and noted that we were surrounded by multiple bandits. Already a couple of our own ships were no longer onscreen.
Tac screamed, "Sir! Another ship decloaking off the starboard bow. Scarab class!". Goddammit... We swung back to the right to avoid that Krill and flew right into another Lobster. We felt additional impacts as the Scarab unleashed a torrent of disruptor and torpedo fire at us, then suddenly broke off hard to the right and cut across our bow.
He had us dead to rights. Why did he break off? And then a sudden realization hit us... Holy...
The captain screamed "Down!! Down!! Full pitch down!! All back full! Dive!!". Mines!! Damned AM Mines! Helm rammed his column all the way forward and pulled back on the throttle. I could feel myself starting to float up in my seat, secured in only by my straps.
And then it happened. We must've hit most of the Scarab's salvo of mines. While I was still floating, the entire ship was suddenly pummeled by a force I could only describe as cataclysmic. Good thing I was strapped in this time. Still I was thrown about in my seat while sparks and console explosions went off all around us.
"Hull breach. Decks 14 through 25, frames 28 through 53.", someone shouted. I looked at the Tac Panel to ascertain... it was shattered, sparks all over the place. Never mind... My console was still functioning, so I switched it over to damage control. From indications, it seemed like that last hit opened us up like a can of sardines. Armor on the forward and port arc were gone. Hull breaches indicated all along the dorsal length of the ship. Not good. Engineering reported that we were venting drive plasma. I switched my screen back to tactical and sucked in my breath at what I saw. Out of the 7 ships in our wing, only 3 remained, including us. A bright flash came from the port viewport. Make that 2... the Gunboat Destroyer UWS Halcyon disappeared from the Tac screen. Back on the Nav map, we were still another 20 seconds from the edge of the dictor field, but we were in no condition to fight any further. Jumping into that other furball at the gate was a questionable action, but orders were orders.
Then I noticed the red blinking light on the panel. Damned! The FTL drive was out. I called it out to the Captain, who gave it a moment's thought, then announced, "All hands to escape pods.". The order was repeated to the entire ship. To me he motioned, "Lay in a collision course for that Krill. Execute when I tell you to". I could only nod, mouth agape. To tactical, "Initiate self destruct, then get out of here, all of you."
Tactical began punching in a series of security sequences, with the captain entering his own codes. As I layed in the course, someone screamed "Incoming!". I snapped my head up and looked at the viewport in time to see a salvo of incoming SI fire. I ducked below the console as the whole ship took another series of hammerblows from Thor himself. As I got up again after the hit, I realized that the several of the viewport glass were crazing from one end to the other. Before I could say anything, two of the forward viewports blew out and the entire bridge experienced something of a hurricane. The captain was ripped from where he was standing and sent flying through the open viewport, his head smashing into the bulkhead as he was sucked through.
The hatch! I was seated just next to the hatch! I grabbed for it and pulled myself through. Tactical was also reaching out for me, and I tried to pull him through. But before I could do so the hatch slammed shut, the automated hull breach procedures kicking into place. They're all gone now. No time for sorrow. I had to get to the nearest pods only twenty meters away. I scrambled on all fours as the ship was being shaken by hit after hit. I had to get the hell out of here before she went nova.
I dove into the pod as the passageway somewhere behind me blew up and got vented into space. I could feel the air pressure dropping rapidly as I slammed the hatch shut, jammed myself into the acceleration seat, and then pulled the ejection lever with all my strength. There was a loud bang as I was slammed into the seat, the G's building up and then abating. The pod began to rotate about its axis and the view was coming around back to the Calypso when I suddenly saw only a mini nova in its place.
No sound at all. The Calypso was there one moment, and in the next it was just an expanding ball of superheated gas and fragments. I strapped myself in just as the shockwave overtook the pod, shaking me violently about. I watched the scene as the last fleeing Gunboat Destroyer got taken out by the Krill. Then as quickly as they appeared, they vanished, and everything was deathly quiet again.
In the distance, I could still see either the Rameses or Sovereign... I couldn't tell from that distance... exchanging fire with the ICC forces.
******
I was shaken out from my sleep by loud clanging noises. As I came to, I realized that I was still in the pod's acceleration seat. Something had latched on to the pod. Who was it? I hope it wasn't the ICC, or worse, the K'luth! But I would rather sit in some rebel scum prison than to be tortured or eaten by some damned lobster...
As the view rotated about, I saw the familiar silhoutte of the Dorian Gray, one of the Covert Ops Scout that we had sent ahead at the opening stages of the battle. At that moment, I could only scream in delight as I knew then that I was going home. I was alive, by God! And it felt good there and then. There was going to be some grieving later, for lost comrades and friends. And I was sure as hell going to be seated in front of a panel of inquisitors as they scrutinized my AAR (After Action Report). But for now, I was just happy to be picked up by friendlies.
A week later from my hospital bed, I learnt from a visting crewmember of the Dorian Gray that the Resolute and Imperator had survived the K'luth onslaught, albeit heavily damaged, by running back through the gate. They had lost half their escorts in the K'luth ambush. The Rameses and Sovereign managed to fight their way out of the dictor field heavily damaged and executed emergency jumps in separate directions. The Rameses later reported back to Luyten, but the Sovereign was still missing. Everyone assumed that the K'luth had probably tracked her down to finish her off.
The Fargo cluster remained under ICC control. Well, they could have it. I didn't care. Who wanted to sit in a system just next to Lobsterville anyway? All I knew was that I was alive. And after the Board of Inquiry and other questions that was sure to be directed at the survivors in the coming months, I would be reassigned to another ship. To once again fight the rebels or some unseen enemy.
I think I'll enjoy my temporary shore reassignment for now...
[ This Message was edited by: Kenny_Naboo[+R] on 2010-12-12 10:27 ]
_________________
... in space, no one can hear you scream.....
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jamesbob
Grand Admiral
Joined: August 22, 2009
Posts: 410
| Posted: 2010-12-12 03:12
ahhhh the sweet sound of a book.
consider writing one i know for a fact i would probably buy it 
_________________
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Kenny_Naboo
Marshal
Pitch Black
Joined: January 11, 2010
Posts: 3823
From: LobsterTown
| Posted: 2010-12-12 09:48
Quote:
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On 2010-12-12 03:12, jamesbob wrote:
ahhhh the sweet sound of a book.
consider writing one i know for a fact i would probably buy it
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Nah. No time for something that big. Short stories are more fun. 
BTW, this is a continuation of "Run...".
Told from another perspective. ICC, check. UGTO, check.
Next up, Lobster. When I have the time.
_________________
... in space, no one can hear you scream.....
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jamesbob
Grand Admiral
Joined: August 22, 2009
Posts: 410
| Posted: 2010-12-12 10:38
Quote:
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On 2010-12-12 09:48, Kenny_Naboo[+R] wrote:
Quote:
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On 2010-12-12 03:12, jamesbob wrote:
ahhhh the sweet sound of a book.
consider writing one i know for a fact i would probably buy it
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|
Nah. No time for something that big. Short stories are more fun.
BTW, this is a continuation of "Run...".
Told from another perspective. ICC, check. UGTO, check.
Next up, Lobster. When I have the time.
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|
seriously if you made a book you might make some good money
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-Shadowalker-™
Admiral
Galactic Navy
Joined: September 23, 2007
Posts: 709
From: Shadows
| Posted: 2010-12-12 21:12
Quote:
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On 2010-12-12 09:48, Kenny_Naboo[+R] wrote:
Quote:
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On 2010-12-12 03:12, jamesbob wrote:
ahhhh the sweet sound of a book.
consider writing one i know for a fact i would probably buy it
|
|
Nah. No time for something that big. Short stories are more fun.
BTW, this is a continuation of "Run...".
Told from another perspective. ICC, check. UGTO, check.
Next up, Lobster. When I have the time.
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|
Can't wait.
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Admiral C. Wilson
Admiral
Joined: July 06, 2010
Posts: 262
From: Arkansas
| Posted: 2010-12-26 00:55
Keep it up
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Well boys it looks like we'll be home in time for coffee and donuts.
-Admiral Ricky Chance Wilson
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