UCON's Story

Deploying from their barracks at Starlight Point the 303rd Marine Infantry Battalion, of the 37th ‘Rahkatens’ Mechanized Regiment, was reaching their start positions on the eastern coast of Aslund by the midnight hours. While disturbances to the civilian population were kept to the bare minimum it was not at the cost of secrecy and safety however: several major roadways and their smaller networks were cordoned off to civilian traffic.

Most urban centers had been skirted to be left behind a cordon a few dozen kilometers away; this was a calculated decision, and a risk, that while shrouded in secrecy at the upper levels of command weren’t too difficult to ascertain. If hostilities were to break out, these urban centers would be used as the battlefields -- meaning any invader would have to fight through thousands of civilians, or any defender would just have to wait for the opportune moment to strike when any enemy was busy sorting out friend and foe.

On the loosely settled beaches and coast of the Aslund channel, Shintenchi only a few hundred miles across the puddle, was where the Killer’s deployment was the heaviest. In the middle of the night armored vehicles rolled along the sandy ribbons weaving up and across the coast. Searchlights tore into the blackness on the far side of the channel, weapons and sights fixed to the horizon where a silent landmass stood opposite.

Corporal Gergely jumped out of the hastily dug trench, feet biting through the sand and letting one hand mash into the sediment underneath him as he left the fireteam behind. The Aschen marines took up idle conversation amongst themselves, huddled about the tiny light provided by the coffee burner.

Many of the marines had to steal sleep on the ride from position to position. Gergely himself had barely slept in the last 48 hours: a nearly 300 kilometer journey that had really only been punctuated by brief stops for coffee and rations, a quick leak or dump on the side of the road, or the precarious ride in an armored vehicle over the treacherous landscape of eastern Aslund.

He envied the air-mobile units in deployments like this. The well-fed, idolized Shock Marines who came screaming from the sky in grav-chutes and swarmed the fields in fleets of T-88s and LV-80s. Their mobility and fancy airjets might have been easily provided for them, but making the 600,000 strong garrison air-assault capable like that would've cost more than Terra itself was worth defending. Not that that cost wasn't already more than Terra was worth to the Apparatus.

Gergely stopped in his tracks when he heard a familiar voice: as he turned in the direction of the calling whisper he saw Staff Sergeant Erahn Molecay. The man was an imposing Tauronite, hard featured and stoic even in the faint light. He was holding open the cover toast dug-out in the sand: a comms antenna tiny four-leg dish poked out from the camouflage netting behind him and the Sergeant motioned Corporal Gergley over to his little hooch.

"Yessir, Sergeant?" Gergely slid a hand onto the buttstock of his AR-98, pressing it behind his shoulder and trudging his way across the sand to Molecay.

"Lieutenant's holding us up for a quick break -- cus' of this," Molecay indicated for the young Aschen Corporal to follow into the large trench. He left the camouflage tarp open for Gergely, who let it slide closed and found himself surrounded by bright screens and scrawling news feeds.

"You know anything about Asteria, Corporal?" Molecay curled his lips around the stub of a burning cigar and narrowed his eyes as smoke fizzled out from the other end.

"A few drunk nights of leave before I was transferred to 303, cathouses and some pretty cheap dope. Why, Staff Sergeant?"

"Race war, Corporal." As Molecay settled himself into a fold-out chair and slid his booted feet onto a mapping table he pointed to a particularly grotesque image on one of the big screens. "We've gleaned from the Authority that there's escalating tensions between Aslunders and Shintenchi ethnic groups. You're aware of Shintenchi membership in AXIS correct?"

Gergely kept his hand clutched to the butt of his assault rifle, eyes having trouble focusing on the shocking imagery despite serving in the Killer's for the past four years. Killing, death and blood never became bearable. "I'm aware they'll be leaving AXIS, peacefully or forcefully. That's why the 303 is here?"

"Correct, Corporal: but it seems peacefully might not be so much of an option with the Killer's here on one end of the channel, but not on the other. With this we'll be between a rock and a hard place and our job won't be any easier."

Gergely felt a lurching in his gut at the Sergeant's words. He had seen combat, quite a bit of it despite the opinion amongst the wider Apparatus that Terra was a 'cook's deployment. When you heard commanders and NCOs debating openly about the possibility of combat it was always an inclination to be ready for anything.

"Major Antalakios wants to assemble a company-sized task force, just in case the TNG needs any added meat investigating some of these killings. On top of that, Task Force Asteria will be on standby incase hostilities do break out: we’ll have to keep our wits about us and not let one side play us up. I need one last fireteam from this platoon.”

Corporal Gergely hardened as he listened to the Staff Sergeant. He turned away from the screens and gruesome imagery and looked over to the gruff NCO nursing the cigar opposite him. For a few moments he thought about the talk of how this deployment would be easy: there were no doubt going to be firefights, but many platoons in the battalion saw this as a chance for R&R. His thoughts went back to the three other men under his command, the fireteam he had led through insurgencies across the other continents of Terra and even some of the battles against the Cybrans a year or so prior. This was the job, his feet came together and his back straightened.

“Yessir, Staff Sergeant Molecay. 2nd fireteam is at your disposal.”

As the increasing tensions begin to rise once more despite the (apparent) efforts of these governments (the TNG, Losenyu Imperium, Sato Shogunate and Volaria) the threat of incredible destruction becomes a considerable matter that is beyond the scope of a simple domestic issue. The case of tensions between these governments, and also the "international organization" that is providing (questionable) assistance to their respective "memberstates" has become a particular obstruction to the Authority's duty of maintaining peace across this planet.

In no way is the TNG entitled to have the Shintenchi isles forcibly, or arbitrarily, brought into their sphere of influence without express and openly fair plebiscite or other methods of self-determination. While the AXIS has claimed to support this right, evidence and action of the involved states of the Shintenchi isles has proven to the Authority that legitimate peace is not truthfully the AXIS and Shintenchi intentions.

On the contrary, from an outward observer it appears the Shintenchi nations are more concerned with securing their position of power as hegemons over the rest of Terra in any (or the inevitable) confrontation between the TNG and their AXIS opportunists and cohorts. The evidence against this is undeniable and, completely, damning to the credibility of an organization that pretends to hold international legitimacy.

The Authority does not reserve that this speculation is unfounded however, yet the lack of convincing attempts to achieve a solution without discussion beyond the narrow horizons of these nation’s spheres paints the tapestry of where each groups intentions truly lie. For this model of behavior to continue is a contravention of legitimate nations everywhere: no mention of a gross violation of what this institute, the Terran Authority, is vowed to oppose.

In haste, the Authority will no longer stand by while the TNG or AXIS jockey for dominance over the nations of Shintenchi: neither will they allow the independent states themselves to use their position and "right" of self-determination to squander a legitimate peace.

The outcomes after this memorandum will be entirely dependent on several key factors: the Shintenchi nation's conviction that they truly rule with the best interest of their constituents at heart, another that the TNG willfully obeys any decision by said nations, even if this decision runs contrary to the TNG's vision of "their" Terra. The third factor is decidedly simpler: that the current status quo is untenable without entitling the Authority to take all action required to remove it, through force and diplomacy.

Diplomatic coordination and multilateral, open discussion of this situation must proceed before the point is crossed where no true solution will come without difficulty or violence. As it stands the Authority will take every measure possible to hold both groups accountable to their obligations under international law and binded to the requirements of their ruling authority. Before war will come to pass, this institution will ensure every option has been exhausted.

As the increasing tensions begin to rise once more despite the (apparent) efforts of these governments (the TNG, Losenyu Imperium, Sato Shogunate and Volaria) the threat of incredible destruction becomes a considerable matter that is beyond the scope of a simple domestic issue. The case of tensions between these governments, and also the "international organization" that is providing (questionable) assistance to their respective "memberstates" has become a particular obstruction to the Authority's duty of maintaining peace across this planet.

In no way is the TNG entitled to have the Shintenchi isles forcibly, or arbitrarily, brought into their sphere of influence without express and openly fair plebiscite or other methods of self-determination. While the AXIS has claimed to support this right, evidence and action of the involved states of the Shintenchi isles has proven to the Authority that legitimate peace is not truthfully the AXIS and Shintenchi intentions.

On the contrary, from an outward observer it appears the Shintenchi nations are more concerned with securing their position of power as hegemons over the rest of Terra in any (or the inevitable) confrontation between the TNG and their AXIS opportunists and cohorts. The evidence against this is undeniable and, completely, damning to the credibility of an organization that pretends to hold international legitimacy.

The Authority does not reserve that this speculation is unfounded however, yet the lack of convincing attempts to achieve a solution without discussion beyond the narrow horizons of these nation’s spheres paints the tapestry of where each groups intentions truly lie. For this model of behavior to continue is a contravention of legitimate nations everywhere: no mention of a gross violation of what this institute, the Terran Authority, is vowed to oppose.

In haste, the Authority will no longer stand by while the TNG or AXIS jockey for dominance over the nations of Shintenchi: neither will they allow the independent states themselves to use their position and "right" of self-determination to squander a legitimate peace.

The outcomes after this memorandum will be entirely dependent on several key factors: the Shintenchi nation's conviction that they truly rule with the best interest of their constituents at heart, another that the TNG willfully obeys any decision by said nations, even if this decision runs contrary to the TNG's vision of "their" Terra. The third factor is decidedly simpler: that the current status quo is untenable without entitling the Authority to take all action required to remove it, through force and diplomacy.

Diplomatic coordination and multilateral, open discussion of this situation must proceed before the point is crossed where no true solution will come without difficulty or violence. As it stands the Authority will take every measure possible to hold both groups accountable to their obligations under international law and binded to the requirements of their ruling authority. Before war will come to pass, this institution will ensure every option has been exhausted.

Revocation of Support

Effective Immediatey Task-force, Shield shall be sent into a defensive role in Andromeda and the Sullen Enterprise Confederation shall not support any action in the Onyx galaxy until a full investigation is conducted into both the attack on the great Sato bridge and the SEC supply task-force. Until definitive evidence against the Concord/Varden surfaces the SEC hereby directly opposes any military action against the Varden.

Lindsey Holiday
Acting President
Sullen Enterprise Confederation

In the midst of a patrolling squadron, the blackness of interstellar space reached all around the CNS Partitioner. The heavy cruiser was underway with its most recent reconnaissance patrol beyond the Colonial Sphere. To it's galactic south laid the Azrican Corridor, a spiraling extension of the Sagittarius arm of the galaxy. From the confines of the Heavy Cruiser’s navigation complex, the crew of the Star Fleet vessel worked tirelessly and in silence as the long patrol continued.

Locked in their work the vessel’s station was positioned forward the main armored bulwarks of the cruiser’s prow, allowing quick access to the signal’s processing hardware and the receiving arrays on the vessel’s thick hull. On one of the main air screens, a technician looked across a processing-line as a spectroanalysis machine sent a pulsating message in front of the skeleton crew.

“We’ve got something, a few AUs out -- it’s a lot of signatures.” A Junior Lieutenant called out from ‘the pit’, an open fissure in the navigation’s complex a story down below the main ‘office’ of the navigation suite. The upper half of his head was obscured by the hyper-reality helmet he wore, the two transparent optics where his eyes would be pulsing as he scanned over the imagery obtained from remote sensors on the vessel’s hull.

“I’ve got it.” A Chief Petty Officer replied, standing with two hands stretched out on the railing as he surveyed the air screen. His eyes narrowed for a moment before the Scatterran reached over to the holotank at his side. Pressing one analog button the device activated with a winding groan.

An exact copy of the spectroanalysis program sprang up in front of him. The next app he activated was a comms network to the bridge: after that he went back to the readout in front of him. “Just what the fuck am I looking at here?”

The ship’s onboard AI had produced an avatar with the holotank when it activated, running it’s own programming through the navigation suite. “It appears there are a number of signatures at long ranges nearby: I have already passed them to the bridge. Captain Anron will be responding shortly.”

The CPO crossed his arms for a moment as he waited for more information to coalesce in front of him. Immediately speaking the signatures were noticeably different than anything the Star Fleet shipman had seen prior: spectroscopy was an acute science in the Star Fleet, and many ships were crewed with academically-trained and knowledgeable navigation’s and communication’s specialists. “This might be an instance of first contact, Aria.”

As he responded to the AI another window expanded from the holotank, a beep sounding as a notification before the CPO turned to view the Captain of the Partitioner. Captain Anron had received the spectroanalysis onto a handheld data tablet, and was looking between it and the holographic video.

“Chief Petty Officer, what is this we’re looking at?” Captain Anron studied his handheld briefly.

“Something that has stumped the spectroanalysis system in the navigation suite here." As the CPO looked back towards the air screen, he could see the first relays coming back to the complex and filtering up through the individual stations. When the heavy cruiser began receiving various probes across the blackness of space the Captain responded dryly.

"Send an FCP package." Across the vastness of space the lone cruiser made itself known with a wide-band broadcast. The sub-space relay from the cruiser's powerful communication's suite.

.

For a moment, silence. Then, when the shock settled, reaction.

"We get signal?" Meownan spoke in mild surprise, but not letting it get the best of him, "Inform Leopold with priority. We're going ahead with diplomatic interactions. Bring us closer and, of course, main screen turn on." The front screen flickered to life with the blackness of space and the million of distant speckles as the sensors and cameras made an effort to slowly seek the ship, which probably vastly outsized the Kalar vessel.

Meownan patiently licked at his paw and groomed his face as he listened to the message, then slowly sat upright. He was getting on in years and it was becoming quite an effort to move around. "Return communications," he ordered, sending crew members slapping controls in preparation. Microphone at his chops, he spoke.

"This is Captain Meownan Altrivor McIntyre, diplomatic representative of the Kalar Empire. We have traveled from a galaxy far far away with peaceful intentions of discovering new people to trade with and finding new planets to terraform and settle. We come in peace."

The microphone was switched off and small sounds of preemptive celebration started echoing throughout the ship, cries of joy that they had made peaceful contact. Meownan remained silently dubious and at the ready to give commands. He didn't hold the ferocious respect like the other generals did, simply because he wasn't so large. But his age held respect that was uncommon amongst his people, and that alone meant he could pull together the normally scattered Kalar like no other.

A Naval technician had joined the CPO at his station in the navigation’s suite. In the passing time as they waited for a response the navigation’s team had made an extensive analysis of the signals that had been gleaned from the vast distances of the fleet of vessels. The Chief Petty Officer hadn’t communicated with any of his crewman just what exactly he had thought of these readings when they were relayed out to him: but he could tell from the addendums and exchanges between the shipmen.

“Aria. Run these signatures against the databas -- “ Before he could even respond the avatar of the program sprang to life beside him. An icon of the vessel’s database appearing behind her; the directory was portrayed as a book, pages sliding from one end to the other before the image blanked empty.

“We have no prior contact with any of the vessels attributed with these signatures.”

"You're gonna' wanna' get the Captain on this one." The CPO replied shortly and turned back at the readout. As he did, a pair of marines entered the navigation's suite carrying a pair of suitcases emblazoned with the insignia of the Coalition's First Contact Department of the Federal government.


A few hundred meters away, Captain Anron stood on the bridge of the heavy cruiser. Instead of watching the starship's weaponry teams prepare the vessel's long-range targeting equipment he was now staring at the navigation's team information that was coordinated to him from the suite in the prow of the ship. "This is incredible ... are we sure this is -- "

"Captain Anron, we're receiving a return-communique from them." Someone called out from the bridge crew below. Anron waved the AI away, sliding the datapad into his pocket before pointing over the guard rail at the crewmen below.

"Play it now."

As the message was returned to the starship it played directly through the navigation's suite and the bridge. While many of the crewmen of the Partitioner had served in combat none had experienced a first-contact situation: in the recent past the Star Fleet had been dominated by the more violent requirements of the Apparatus, yet every man and woman who joined the Star Fleet yearned for the opportunity to see two civilizations meet.

"This is Captain Meownan Altrivor McIntyre, diplomatic representative of the Kalar Empire. We have traveled from a galaxy far far away with peaceful intentions of discovering new people to trade with and finding new planets to terraform and settle. We come in peace."

"Prepare our response, Aria. The Partitioner is a military vessel of the Military Apparatus from the United Coalition of Organized Nations, an interstellar union of many separate nations across this galaxy."

"A coalition?" Meownan echoed to himself in thought, "How curious." His mind slowly drifted to violent history of the Kalar, both on and off planet. Could they have ended up like these people? He would have to bring that up later for good conversation with some of his more intelligent friends. Maybe even Leopold. Speaking of which...

"Mesig from Galaktic General!" piped up one of the crew, before it was brought up on screen over the scanners. Meownan rolled his eyes as the two crew members started arguing about who had control of the screen; the scanners or the communicators.

"Continue with standard diplomatic procedure. Gatta is being sent as a security escort. Wait for his arrival."

Meownan's face turned sour as suddenly the crew were cheering for the arrival of the Gatta Rekai. Slowly peeling from the fleet came a corvette with two Kitten class fighters chaotically flying around it. The crew was almost lost to spectacle until Meownan spoke. "Prepare a response," he mewled, "Two responses. Three, even. One to explain our actions to the good people of the Coalition, one to tell Leopold an escort is unnecessary as we have already reached peaceful communications and one to tell that tailless moggie-"

"Eyy kaptin!" came a voice through the communicator. Gatta's ship had drifted into range of more traditional and easier methods of communication, "Gatta Rekai 'ere. We gon' smoke dem fools?"

Meownan adjusted his paws beneath his body and let out a sigh. "Hang back. I do not want your presence to be perceived as threatening. Just go do some tricks or whatever it is you do to win the hearts of the people."

"Sho' thing kaptin."

"Shut off communications to Gatat, and someone tell Leopold we don't need that fool. As for the Coalition... If everyone can focus for just one moment before you watch the Manx do 'whirly birds' and 'loop-de-loops', we need to respond to our respectful hosts."

He cleared his throat and dictated;

"Coalition representatives. Our general has sent an escort entourage for my personal safety. I am currently attempting to get them to go away. We have yet to encounter another species on peaceful terms, so we are unfamiliar with appropriate protocol. However, we have a portion of gold, platinum and other precious metals to trade for local currency so that we might send representatives to you or to your planet to help better understand each others cultures and people."

Satisfied, he rest his chin down on top of his paws as the crew let out an 'Ooooh' in unison as Gatta streaked past in his fighter and slowly looped around through open space, wasting precious fuel.

There was a fury of activity on board the Bannockburn as it took on the multitude of administrators and diplomatic personnel. Swarms of heavy hanger drones weaved in and out of the fray to move equipment and stage it away from ammunition and fuel stores. The Apparatus personnel were escorted to a staging area and made comfortable as CONCORD personnel in gray duty uniforms performed checks on fuel levels and maintenance inspections.

A hologram roughly explained the process of a titan's bridge, the use of cynosural fields, and the documented side effects of Ayen drives which amounted to mild nausea to those that had come aboard. Those remaining on the Promethean would not get such a warning or introduction prior to being bridged. Bannockburn's pilot awaited the signal to call for the cyno and engage the bridge.

The shuttle was guided in and set down without incident. Kristen collected a single large black duffel bag after unhooking from her seat. She put the bag over her shoulder. "We have docked. Let us disembark", she said with a smirk in Liam's direction.