View Full Version : The Extended SOL Galaxy

24 December 2006, 07:20 PM
This is another space-oriented story. They are lots of space battles (of which I promise will get better and more fun to read), and dirty politics to the end. Any comments will be very helpful. You can either post them here or on my feedback thread.

History: The major power in the system is the Militia-Pact. They are a military dictatorship and own more than 65% of the known universe. The Militia-Pact rules through fear and power, there is a Naval and Army presence on every planet they own. The Militia-Pact is the combination of two major species, Humans and Rodians. They have a single King and a puppet Parliament Committee. They have enslaved over twenty independent races. Their Navy is the largest in the galaxy. This numerical advantage makes up for the very poor leadership by their commanders. Although they have been successful in defeating single planet or even starship nations they have never entered a conflict with a true galactic power.
The biggest enemy of the Militia-Pact is the Royal Typheous Star Kingdom. They are very similar to the old Earth United Kingdom. The set to the stars years after the first transport brought the first Militia-Pact citizens to the planet New Moscow. After settling Typheous-A they began to build an economy and an armed forces. Exploring the surrounding planets they found unsettled areas and colonnaded them. Their prosperity spread to the surrounding planets and soon had built up a huge alliance. The Star Kingdom now controls 15% of the known galaxy. They have been in an arms race with the Militia-Pact for the past twenty years. Although the numbers of the Star Kingdom are lower their Commanders are unsurpassed in the universe.
The final major galactic power in the universe is The People’s Free Republic of Terra is the remnants of old Earth. Before Earth was destroyed by Sol, a last group of immigrants ventured into the stars for a new home. They found one on the planet Grizzly 4. That was where the People’s Free Republic started. They were really a midpoint of the vectors of the Star Kingdom and Militia-Pact. Several planets were conquered for the good of the people, but their inhabitants were not enslaved, but given a spot in the Committee of Planets. The Republic strongly opposes the Militia-Pact on every front except militarily. Their navy is a midsize and their leadership is just above the Militia-Pact.

25 December 2006, 06:04 PM
HMS Majesty DD 105 docked with HMSS Typhoeus.

Commander Sung walked out of the transport’s docking tube. The Marine guard of the ship greeted him. They gave him a crisp salute that would have put any honor guard to shame. He returned the salute and continued onto the ship. He felt like he had lived here his entire life. Everything was so familiar to him. After all he had been going over the deck plans for the past year as she was created. But that was expected of a new Skipper.
He straightened his tunic as he headed to the bridge entrance. A whistle blew his coming as he entered the bridge. The entire bridge staff came to attention and presented arms. Commander Sung came to attention as well and saluted back.
“At ease,” he said. From his tunic he produced a letter. The Kingdom still believed in the old fashioned way of taking command of a ship, and yes that included real paper. “From The Duke of Camberry Sir Jonas McKenna. I hereby order Commander Chan Sung to take command of the newly fangled Destroyer HMS Majesty. After such time you will then report to Task Force 38 at which point you will come under the command of Marquis James Garret. May you carry out your orders to the bitter end. Long live the Queen.”
The executive officer withdrew from next to the chair and offered it to Sung. He nodded thanks to her and sat down. It felt just right. This was where he was supposed to be, commanding a Queen’s ship.
“Accelerate to fifteen kiloknots helm,” Sung ordered.
“Aye, sir,” the reply came, “accelerating to fifteen kiloknots.” The ship lurched and accelerated into the black oblivion. Sung stared straight ahead and felt the same exhilarating feeling of so many flights in his long past. But that feeling never seemed to lessen in intensity.
“Coming to fifteen kks sir.”
“Very well. Prepare a hyperspace jump to join Task Force 38.”
“Aye, sir.” Calculations were plotted into the computer and a path emerged on the tactical screen in front of Sung. The estimated time of arrival was three days and five hours. “Sir, we’ll be able to make the hyperspace jump in ten minutes.”
“Thank you. Make the jump as soon as you can.”
“Aye, Sir.” Sung settled into his chair and fixed his eyes on the tactical screen. This would be the same old boring routine patrol. But little did Chan Sung know but this would be the most exciting routine patrol.

Office of Grand Viceroy Michael Masterson of the Militia-Pact

Michael was looking over the production quotas. No matter how many times he looked at it there was no changing the results. There was a definite decline of ship production. Along with that was the decrease of military enlistment. All he could do was shake his head in disbelief. In earlier ages the Militia-Pact was the greatest star nation there was. Now they themselves were suffering from the mere powers of politics. That seemed to be the new weapon. No longer did the Carrier win battles but the politics it took to create it.
“Is there anything we can do to increase production of the ships?” Michael asked.
“I’m afraid not, sir,” Citizen Viceroy George Romanov replied. And yes, his name is derived from the famous Russian Czar. No one is exactly sure how far down the family tree George is but they get the idea.
“Can’t we just make a construct a new Space Station?”
“No, building another station will only put us further into debt. Plus by the time we finish it the other stations will have declined even further. It’s a lose-lose situation.”
“What do you suggest?”
“A territorial acquisition.”
“Like a system or something.”
“A mere planet would do it.”
“Really. What about the Galadi system?”
“That would work, but the Republic already has a colony ship headed in that direction.”
“I know you too well. You would never get my hopes up like this unless you had an idea of how to accomplish the mission.”
“As usual, you are right. We already have an operation in motion. It has been dubbed Operation Crazy Horse. I am fully ready to explain all the details to you.”
“Very well.”

The Free People’s Republic Transport ship Trinidad

“Skipper, we’ll be exiting hyperspace in two minutes,” the navigation officer said. Captain Montgomery shook his head. This was all working out perfectly. He had made more than a dozen colony drops in his career. But he had always enjoyed his military career a lot better. Then again when someone offers you triple what you are making in the service to take people to new places you take it.
“Translating out of hyperspace…now skipper.” There was a sudden lurched of the ship. However the real feeling was nothing like what was actually happening. There was this device which allows high speed traveling, it is called a inertial compensator. It gives the feeling of normal gravity while traveling at faster than light speeds.
“Very well. Contact Commodore Herkimer and tell him that we will enter orbit in twenty minutes.”
“Aye, sir. Uh…sir… we have a another single coming in.”
“It’s not a Republic ship.”
“Open a channel.”
“Aye, sir. Channel open.”
“Unknown vessel I am Captain Montgomery of the Free People’s Republic Transport ship Trinidad, identify yourself.”
“It will take five minutes for the message to be received by the ship.”
“Very well. Send a message to Commodore Herkimer that we need immediate assistance.”
“Aye sir.” The unknown ship continued towards Trinidad. The people aboard the transport would never know who was commanding that other ship. As the distance closed Montgomery began evasive maneuvers and tried to run for it. The other vessel turned to show its port broadside. Lasers and chasers ripped Trinidad in seconds. There was nothing left but floating pieces of alloy and metal. The unknown ship disappeared into hyperspace leaving the pile of debris be

5 January 2007, 08:09 PM
HMS Majesty DD 105
HMS Majesty came out of hyperspace. It was as smooth as could be. Sung watched his screen and waited for the familiar green dots of Queen’s ships to show up. In the next minutes the dots appeared along with ship names and vectors. He quickly identified the flagship and sent out a hail.
“Marquis Garret, this is HMS Destroyer Majesty ready and willing, under your command.” After an awkward five minutes the reply came from Devastator.
“Very well, Commander Sung. Report aboard Devasator at 2100 hours,” the Marquis ordered.
“Aye, sir,” Chang replied. He cut the circuit and sat back into his chair. “Lieutenant Ming, ready my cutter and have Petty Officer Fang prepare for a flight.”
“Aye, sir.” Chang left the bridge to his Exec. He took the ship car to his quarters. He thought he should be in dress uniform to meet his Commanding Officer, especially a Marquis.
The Marine standing guard saluted him as he entered the Captain’s Quarters. His hands moved steadily as he opened his locker and selected his best uniform. It had been tailored to fit him. Every award he had ever earned was present. Except that they were not merely the ribbon, they were the whole darn thing. He hid a smile as he checked it over for flaws. As far as he could see, there were none. He fitted the tunic around his body and looked for his sword.
Chang found it tucked away in the back. This was not merely a dress katana; it was an actual lethal killing machine. It was a going away present from his father, who had been the runner-up in the system-wide sword fighting competition on his home planet, New China. This was not just a mere competitive sword either. It had belonged to his family for fifty generations. His family crest was on it, along with every male member of his family. Soon his name would be on there next to his great grandfather. As Chang buckled the sword to his belt, the intercom chimed.
“Captain?” a voice asked.
“Yes Lieutenant Ming?” he replied.
“Fang is ready for you, sir.”
“Very well, inform him that I will join him shortly.”
“Aye, sir.” The intercom went silent. Once again Sung was left to his thoughts. Which at this moment ran to what he was planning to say to Garret. He had no clue why he would like to talk to a Destroyer Captain. Maybe he was telling him that he would be watching him, or maybe that he was expecting great things. He buried those thoughts and looked at his reflection in the mirror. He didn’t look half-bad, for a Commander, that is.
As Chang stepped out the salute the Marine guard caught him with his pants down. He gave a half-assed reply to the crisp delicacy of the Marine. A beginning like that could only get better from here. His suspicions were confirmed when he entered the boat bay to find his cutter ready and running. Fang didn’t waste any time, did he?
“Good evening Skipper,” Fang said. That was the first time that he had been called Skipper. It gave him a sense of authority, verging on the sanctity of god.
“To you to Petty Officer Fang.” Fang stepped away for Chang to go up the ramp first. He gave him a nod and walked up the ramp. Since this was the Captain’s Cutter there was a spacious office for him and his entire bridge crew. Allow this trip would be spent alone he could foresee in the future that this would become a very good asset. Chang sat down at the desk and punched in Fleet Command.
In the past months he had been working on a fleet maneuver that was anything but by the book. It went against all previous Naval doctrine. In this modern day and age ships weaved back and forth trading off broadsides until they closed to energy range. Some ships were meant for long-range missile engagements, like the Monitor, Superdreadnought, and Dreadnought. Still others were built with the intention of closing that range as fast as possible and enter energy range: such as the Battleship and Battlecruiser. But this particular maneuver was meant for a new style of fighting for the Battlecruiser.
Commander Sung typed in a few more commands and watched his masterpiece unfold. He was quite proud of his idea, but he lacked one thing to propose it to the board of Naval Tactics, courage. He was a mere Commander trying to Chang over one hundred years of Naval doctrine. It would never fly, unless he, at least, obtained Flag Rank.
His eyes followed every step of the formation until his cutter docked with HMS Battlecruiser Devesator. He rechecked himself in the mirror, and was satisfied that there was nothing he could do to make him look any better. He exited the cutter to find a Captain waiting for him. He must be the Captain of Devastator.
“Let me bring you to Marquis Garret, Commander Chang,” he said.