#starboard main hangar

[sw5w]

[ Whistles ]

STAR WARS EPISODE I: The Phantom Menace 02:03:12

This is also an example of a horizontally flipped shot, something George Lucas employed a lot of in his films, as R2-D2's logic function display is normally seen on the left side of his primary holoprojector.

[saphronethaleph]

Skydancer

“Well… darn,” Leia said, with feeling.

Apparently she’d picked entirely the wrong time to look in on the rebels in the Dennogra system. The Imperials had somehow got wind of the presence of the base, a sting operation had gone into play – while she was there, no less – and a Star Destroyer and an Interdictor were hanging overhead, TIE fighters flying cover over the base while stormtroopers closed in.

Her transport was already disabled, burned out by the first wave of fighters, and the local Rebel net had gone silent thirty seconds ago with the last report being that Base Orenth and Base Trill had both been neutralized.

Leia reached for her hold-out pistol.

She had a choice coming up, soon. She’d either be surrendering herself into Imperial custody, hoping for the means to make an escape attempt, or she’d be selling her life dearly.

And…

...she couldn’t see herself surrendering to Imperial custody. They knew she was a Rebel, now. Tarkin might be dead, but she had no reason to expect that any Imperial captors would be even as merciful as him.

Her fingers slid over the grip of the blaster as she moved from cover to cover, ears alert for any sign of the Stormtroopers closing the net, then paused as she spotted something.

There was an A-Wing fighter left in the hanger.

Leia frowned, trying to remember what she knew about the A-Wing.

It was… shielded, she knew that much, and it was fast and agile. And it didn’t rely on an Astromech droid to make hyperspace jumps.

That was it, then. That was how she could get out of this.

She just needed to handle enough fighters to get clear, and then the Interdictor – either escaping it by flying out of its range, or disabling it.

The A-Wing had concussion missile launchers, didn’t it? And the shields on an Imperial cruiser or destroyer were…

Leia thought about that a moment longer, checking in all directions, then made up her mind and ran for the fighter.

“Hey – stop!” a voice shouted, and Leia whirled. Without stopping, she snapped off two blasts, and one stormtrooper fell with a smoking hole in his breastplate.

The other ducked into cover, then returned fire, and Leia paused by the front leg of the A-Wing before firing twice more. That left her only two shots left in the small energy cell, but the shot did down the other stormtrooper, and she hurried up the ladder into the cockpit before sealing the canopy and hitting the self-start button.

The fighter’s computer flashed an unhappy pattern of lights at her, and Leia bared her teeth.

“Come on, you bucket of bolts,” she muttered, stabbing at a few controls, then the status screen came up. She flicked the repulsors online, then the shields, and a moment later a blaster bolt peened off the shield and into the corner of the hangar.

Blasters came up next, and Leia twisted the yoke. It was intuitive and responsive, a sign of good design, and she walked her fire across a whole squad of stormtroopers.

Then she keyed the main engines, and the whole hangar behind her was fried as the powerful engines boosted her upwards.

Two patrolling TIEs immediately began closing in on her, the sensor screen pinging a warning, and Leia muttered a curse.

She wasn’t a pilot… but this was a very fast and very agile fighter.

And it wasn’t like anyone else was showing up to save her skin.

A twitch of the yoke, and she snap-rolled ninety degrees to starboard before spinning halfway around. The twin cannon spat fire, blowing one TIE to pieces and clipping the wing of the other, and the second one wobbled in an uncontrollable roll before managing to get some control of itself and come back around.

Another element of two TIEs was vectoring in, and Leia finished her spin before diving towards the ground. There were Imperial ground elements down there, still visible, and if the fighters were going to shoot at her she could at least decoy them to try and hit the ground forces – then a large Imperial walker was looming up before her, and Leia adjusted her angle a little to aim between the front and back legs.

Pulling back out again as soon as she shot between them, Leia glanced around to get a good handle on the situation, then yanked the yoke back and switched from engines to repulsors. That meant the big engines weren’t pushing her forwards any more, letting her make a tight turn, and she pulled the trigger twice about when she’d be lined up with the pursuing fighters.

Three more explosions lit the sky, followed by drifting clouds of smoke as bits of TIE fighter rained down, then Leia switched back to main engines and turned towards her next targets.

Even a novice like her could tell that she didn’t want to be surrounded by enemy fighters. So the only way out of this was going to be to make sure they didn’t – or couldn’t.

“We feared we’d lost you, Princess,” General Rieekan said, as Leia clambered down the side of the A-Wing she’d appropriated. “When we heard about the attack on the Dennogra base, we feared the worst.”

“I was all right,” Leia replied. “Fortunately I had an A-Wing.”

“You’re not wrong,” Wedge agreed, inspecting it. “That’s definitely an A-Wing.”

He frowned. “What actually happened, Princess? The report was that there was an Interdictor overhead… was that incorrect?”

“No, there was,” Leia agreed. “Along with a Star Destroyer. Like I said, I had an A-Wing. Whoever designed that fighter is a real expert, it can be flown as well as you please by even a novice.”

Wedge, Carlist Rieekan, and everyone else present not named Leia Organa exchanged confused looks.

“...no, it can’t,” Wedge said, slowly. “It’s a good bird, a bit lighter than I prefer, but it’s extremely temperamental… who else was flying with you? Did anyone else get out?”

“All the other fighters were taken out on the ground by the initial bombardment and fighter strike,” Leia replied. “The one I used happened to be deeper into the hanger and it survived.”

“You escaped by yourself?” Rieekan asked. “Princess, I’m… sorry for my tone of voice, but that’s impossible. Or it shouldn’t be possible. Those two capital ships carry nearly a hundred TIEs between them, and while some of those squadrons are bombers or boarding elements that’s still-”

He broke off, because Leia was counting under her breath.

“...that sounds about right,” she said. “Well, I counted about sixty, anyway, and maybe a dozen bombers.”

“I think we need to check the gun camera footage,” Wedge decided. “I want to see this.”

About an hour later, Leia was in the middle of catching up on important messages when Rieekan came into the meeting room she was using.

So did Wedge, and most of the other pilots on the cruiser.

“We’re not worthy,” Derek Klivian declared. “We’re not worthy! We’re not worthy!”

“Hobbie,” Wedge said, shaking his head. “Are you ever going to stop that?”

“Nope, sir!” Klivian replied.

“He’s got a point,” Rieekan said. “Princess, we’ve reviewed the gun camera footage. And then taken some anti-nausea medication.”

“Is there something wrong?” Leia asked.

“Well, you’re one of the best pilots in history,” Wedge replied. “None of my best pilots could do that. I’d have said even Luke couldn’t do that, but then Hobbie told a joke and we decided to actually do it.”

“Princess,” Rieekan went on. “I regret to inform you that a genetic test has revealed that you’re Luke Skywalker’s sister. We think you’re both the children of Anakin Skywalker, who went down in galactic history as the single most capable natural pilot ever recorded.”

“...though you might just earn the top spot, now,” Tycho added. “Seriously, that was at least fourteen consecutive chakra manoeuvres and you shot down at least two fighters per chakra manoeuvre. And I never knew the A-Wing could do half of the other things you made it do.”

Leia was still wrapping her head around Luke Skywalker’s sister.

“Ever considered being a pilot?” Wedge added. “I’d say we can give you lessons but that might not even be necessary…”

[zmasters]

The Void Crawler - Floor 1: The Main Promenade and The Lift

Introduction

Regardless of who hired you, you have accepted the job to explore the derelict vessel HA Void Crawler. Your mission: figure out what happened, extract the data requested from your patron, get out.

Good luck Lancer, and I’ll see you soon.

Mission Start (LL 0)

The designated insert and extraction point is a cargo hangar bay on the starboard side, near the bow. Schematics indicate that the hangar and hallways leading off from it are large enough to fit most of not all mechs on the market.

The cargo bay is devoid of anything of value. Many of the boxes have been opened, with whatever being inside being taken who knows where.

Scans indicate that the air is breathable, and rats can be found scurrying through the hold. This is despite that reports indicate that the life support systems are down.

As you and your team move through the hall, you notice that the ship is temperate. Despite a decade of being lost in orbit around a small moon, the Void Crawler is completely safe for organic life. You take a step, and feel something soft and wet under your foot.

You stepped on a patch of moss.

As you walk deeper into the vessel, the moss gets more and more prominent. With each step, the air gets crisper, and the moss gets thicker. Eventually the moss shifts to a tall grass, and you swear you saw something move through the brush.

The hall eventually leads to the main promenade. What once was the center of life within this ship, where people would eat, relax, and enjoy their time off. But now it is literally the center of life, as a forest has sprung up in the three floors. Vines hung over the edges of the upper floors as long twisting branches block out the ceiling lights. A pond has formed at the opposite end of the room, being fed from a waterfall pouring from an old cafe on the third floor. God only knows where this water is coming from.

The more eagle eyed lancer's can notice arrows and a blood trail in the dirt. But before this can be investigated, your team recieves a message from your transport.

"Heads up lancer's, we got company. I'm pulling back to a save position. You're on your own until you clear them out."

A reported 4-8 assault grunt mechs, 1 pyro mech, and 1 witch mech had made land fall in the hangar. One should note that while the assault and pyro mechs aesthetically match Harrison Armory (even if Harrison Armory was the company that hired the party), the witch appears to be combination ISP-N and HORUS. As well, the witch would avoid combat when possible. Should the witch be the last NPC mech standing, they will turn invisible and leave.

Once combat is offer, the party will receive the following message for their mech communications, spoken through a text-to-speech style voice:

"H 3 1 1 0 F R 1 3 N D =) 1 M C Y 1 A! 0 F F 3 R R 3 P 1 A R $! H 3 R 3!"

A map of the ship will be uploaded to the mech's systems, with a passage to nearby elevator being hilighted.

Should the party instead focus on exploring the rest of the area, they will find more signs of sentient life. A net by the pond. A carving on a tree. A few tents hastily buried underneath. It's obvious something had lived here. Was it the original crew? Are the rumors of the Void Crawler discovering alien life true? Are they coexisting? There isn't enough evidence to know for certain.

The Lift (LL 1)

Upon entering the elevator that the mysterious message pointed to, it is clear that this isn't a normal elevator. The dimly light room was large enough to fit around ten mechs without issue. Comparing the lift to the map or the vessel provided indicates that this area was too large for where it should be.

All the materials needed to repair mechs, alongside the appropriate printers to print parts and even new mechs are all set up and waiting for use. Alongside this, an appropriate amount of bunks for the party to sleep in, a large freezer containing enough food to last the party indefinitely if rationed correctly, a prototype growth vat to grow even more food if needed, a stockpile of spare clothing, a bathroom (with a shower and laundry machine), and a terminal connected to the omninet. Whenever an expendable resource (such as food or toilet paper) is used, it will be replaced when the party aren’t looking at where it is normally stored. On the terminal, a sloppily hand-written sticky note saying "for u. b ComfY. pLes stAy."

On the opposite side of where you entered, at the right corner, there is metal gray pillar that doesn't match the style of the rest of the lift. The best way to describe it is as if the pillar was phasing through the lift. It is warm to the touch and you can faintly hear the sounds of sloshing liquid coming from inside.

On the pillar, about chest height, is a collection of buttons that resemble to floor buttons of a normal elevator. The buttons are labelled 1-12 (note that the Void Crawler only has seven levels). The 1 button lit up, indicating you are on level 1 (also note you entered the vessel through the fourth floor hangar and did not change floors up to this point).

This lift will act as the main resting place for the party during this mission. The party can use the area to heal from injuries, repair damaged mechs, print out new ones, and acquire licenses. As well, this is also how the party will travel to the other levels of this "dungeon."

[nelc]

The multiple pressure hulls of the Russian Akula class (NATO reporting name 'Typhoon')

1 - outer hull; 2 - 533 mm forward torpedo tubes; 3 - pressure hull (forward); 4 - stowable forward hydroplanes; 5 - forward escape hatches; 6 - torpedo compartment pressure hull; 7 - sonar compartment; 8 - 20 x R-39 ballistic missile tubes; 9 - control room; 10 - escape capsules; 11 - retractable devices; 12 - Fin; 13 - radio room; 14 - reactor compartment; 15 - hangar / payload doors for towed communication buoy; 16 - protrusions to prevent ice damaging the propellers; 17 - turbine compartment; 18 - machine compartment, 19 - hydrodynamic vortex smoothing protrusions; 20 - vertical stabiliser; 21 - rudders; 22 - ducted propeller; 23 - aft hydroplanes; 24 - sonar; 25 - stowable thrusters; 26 - missile compartment; 27 - crew compartment; 28 - 2 x OK-650 nuclear reactors; 29 - propeller shaft; 30 - horizontal stabiliser; 31 - pressure hull (forward); 32 - main pressure hull (starboard); 33 - main pressure hull (port); 34 - pressure hull (fin); 35 - pressure hull (aft); 36 - rapid dive tank

i - attack periscope; ii - navigation periscope; iii - radio sextant; iv - radar/ESM system, v - snorkel; vi & viii - radio communications; vii - direction finding; ix - satellite communication/positioning antenna; x - hull mounted towed sonar array

[bexterbex]

A Soul to Mend His Own | Ch. 34

Warning, if you haven’t heeded the other warnings on the other chapters then you have played yourself. 

A Kylo Ren x Modern! Reader in a soulmate au with some canon divergence. —————————————SLOWBURN————————————–

He is already the Supreme leader, searching the universe to find you, his Empress. Your name on his wrist has been the only constant in his life, while you have doubts about his existence and his acceptance of you. He isn’t in the database and why did the name Kylo Ren cover Ben Solo?

MASTERLIST

Chapter 34: Leaving without Notice

Once onboard the Steadfast you and Kylo headed to the conference room with the general and your lieutenant. Kylo released you once you got to the room and were safely inside, he left the room in a rush. You were left to your lesson with the general.

“You did well today again Lady Ren, I know this morning was a bit stressful after yesterday’s events so we shall keep this lesson in a lighter tone,” said Hux. “We will be going over the ship a tour of sorts if you will, one that is much more in-depth than your initial tour, to show you what the  Resurgent- class Star Destroyers have to offer.”

You followed the general down the hall. “While the size is reminiscent of Empire ships, the design of the  Resurgent -class recalls a similar design from the Republic-era capital ships. The  Steadfast’s dorsal flight deck, side hangars, and prominent keel; are similar to elements of  Venator -class Star Destroyers, reflecting a renewed appreciation among our tacticians for capital ships’ role as carriers. Like the  Finalizer, the Steadfast can launch her full complement of starfighters and assault ships much more quickly than their predecessors of the Imperial Navy. Other Imperial-era design flaws have also been rectified -- the need for a better-protected command bridge was a lesson we learned from the loss of the Executor,”  said Hux.

You were making your way to the back of the ship, you following next to the general and your lieutenant following behind you. You made your way to some sort of large mechanical room.

“All the way to the far right is the access to the Hyperdrive generator and the access to the Starboard main engines. This room mirrors another on the other side of the ship. Over here are the reactant silo and subsidiary reactor. Behind us is the isotope containment wells. Just above us is the starboard primary turbolaser battery. We shall now move back to the main reactor.”

You were glad because the room you were in was hot, you had no idea how the technicians that seemed to be moving about the room seemed to stand it. The room felt as if it was an oven, and you were not cupcakes so it was no place for you. When you got back out the main hall you never thought you would be more thankful for the star ship’s recycled air, the hallway felt airconditioned compared to the room you were just in. It was also a fair bit brighter out in the hallway. You made it to a large room with a metal curved ball, but you could only see a small portion of the large sphere.

“This is the reactor containment vessel unless you would like serious health issues unfortunately I can not take you to see the reactor itself. This is an SJFS III-a1a primary hypermatter-annihilation reactor. It is top of the line and allows us to stay in Hyperspace for days. This reactor could power two planets of your sizes for 100 years without stopping. We are currently standing in the reactor engineering control deck, up there are he atmospheric processing complect and the reactant ducts.”

You then left the area you were in to go to a different hangar than the one you normally use. This one was much much smaller. There seemed to be a lot more boxes and other items scattered neatly around.

“This is our port hanger, it mainly handles shipments from planets and all non-personnel ships. Although this is the smaller of the two hangars it is the one we use the most. Ah, yes here is a ship now.”

You saw a large ship pull in, it was rather a shoebox like in shape, you guessed that since it was meant to carry cargo it did not have to look spectacular. You did not stick around for it to be unloaded seeing as the general was instant that you carry on the in-depth tour. You were then hauled off to many other places on the ship. No offense to the general but his voice seemed to drone on, and you were rather tired. Just when you realized you were tired the lieutenant made a cup of stimcaf appear, you briefly wondered if he could read your mind as Kylo could but you could care less at the moment. You had caffeine.

The ship itself has 3000 turbolasers, point-defense laser cannons, and ion cannons. Point-defense quad concussion missile emplacements and tractor beam projectors. There are 19,000 officers, 55,000 enlisted and 13,000 stormtroopers on board at the moment. But because she is a sistership with any of the Resurgent-class ships they are all armed the same. Kuat-Entralla Engineering has done a superb job making these galaxy-class destroyers.”

The general then turned to look at you, he then glanced at the time and declared your lesson over. You were thankful, and you wondered just how tired you looked. You also glanced at the time seeing that you had at least an hour before dinner. You hoped you could sneak a nap in, you made your way back to your chambers and thanked the lieutenant and told him that you would send for him if you needed him.

When you entered your chambers Kylo was already there, shirtless and speaking to someone you couldn’t see. The last words you heard from him were, “you will return it to me.” His voice was low and predatory. He was a beast holding back from striking, but you could not see his prey. You broke his concentration when you entered the room.

He looked at you, you could see the bloodthirsty look vanishing from his face the longer he looked at you. His eyes were softening, but still held a hunter’s forewarning in them. He cleared his throat and looked at the time, “It’s later than I thought.”

You just nodded and made your way to your room, he caught your arm and pulled you to him. You flushed at the motion, you were now against his bare chest, your head was in a tissy.

“How much of that did you hear,” he asked staring you down.

“I didn’t hear anything other than, you will return it to me,” you replied. Your face was scrunched up with confusion but your heart was racing with excitement.

“Forget what you heard,” his voice was firm and harsh. His grip on you was harsher than it has ever been.

But your body was giving different signals than your brain. You couldn’t even form a coherent sentence to respond. Kylo released you and you stumbled back almost in shock. You eventually braced yourself against the wall, you could feel the anger radiating off of him. You were too tired to deal with him at the moment so you practically ran to your room.

The moment your head hit the pillow you passed out, for the first time in a while your dreams were nothing but nightmares.

After you woke up you felt more tired than when you went to sleep, but you needed to get up anyway. You were dazed when you left your room and you stumbled into the living room where you were greeted by the lieutenant.

“I regret to inform you, ma’am, that the Supreme Leader will not be joining you tonight as he has been called to the other end of the galaxy for the next few days,” said Mitaka. “But he has informed me that I am to make sure you are not to eat your dinners alone.”

So he was gone. You wondered if this had anything to do with the voice he seemed to be talking to, or if it was something that you had done. You were thankful that he had the intuition to have the lieutenant here instead of just messaging you or leaving a note. You also felt bad for the lieutenant as he should not have been forced to change his plans to eat with you just because Kylo thought you shouldn’t be eating alone. You had done it many times before, why did you need company now?

“Thank you, lieutenant but I am more than capable of eating alone if you would rather go eat with your friends.”

The lieutenant flashed a worried and confused face. “It is no problem ma’am, I think I would actually enjoy eating with you tonight.”

You gave him a small smile, you were very happy that the young lieutenant felt that way. He was rather sweet and you were thankful that Kylo made him your assistant of sorts. You nodded to him and made your way to the dining room and both ordered your dinner. You felt slightly awkward because usually during breakfast you two sat in a comfortable silence until he gave you your daily debriefing, but now you were actually going to eat a proper meal together and you had no idea what to talk about.

“Tell me about yourself lieutenant.”

He looked at you partially startled at the inquiry. You could tell that he was not used to higher-ups taking an interest, you supposed it would only be his friends that would even care, but you wanted to be friends with the partially timid man.

“There isn’t much to tell ma’am I am a lieutenant in the First Order. I graduated top of my Academy class and was placed on board the Finalizer and I worked directly under the allegiant general when he was still in command of her. This was all when the former Supreme Leader was in power. After Supreme Leader Ren came into power the general promoted me not in rank but in position to be with him. And when you were found the Supreme Leader reassigned me to you,” said Mitaka.

“But what about before the Academy? Or what do you like to do when you are given leave or free time? Surely there is more to you than meets the eye,” you asked.

“Before the academy, I lived with my parents on Coruscant. I am an older brother to my little brother. My father works in business and my mother works in medical. When I have free time I like to relax or reading up on galactic history. Although like most officers when on leave I enjoy going to any beaches on the planet we are on and I tend to enjoy the food. Unlike the food that has been served to you m’lady when we haven’t been to port for a while the food can get rather bland and unappealing.”

You chuckled at his last statement. You supposed that this was a military and so the need for really tasty food was outweighed by the need for nutritious food. You were glad that he was at least enjoying the food at the moment.

When you both had finished eating you thanked him before sending him away for the night. He told you he would see you in the morning. You were left alone for the evening. You wondered if you should sleep in his bed again or not, unfortunately, your body made that decision for you as it barely got you up the stairs. His bed was closer so you collapsed into it, this time you dreamed of nothing but blackness.

[greatworldwar2]

• IJN Shinano

The Shinano was an aircraft carrier built by the Imperial Japanese Navy (IJN) during World War II, the largest such built up to that time.

One of two additional Yamato-class battleships ordered as part of the 4th Naval Armaments Supplement Program of 1939, Shinano was named after the old province of Shinano, following the Japanese ship- naming conventions for battleships. She was laid down on May 4th, 1940 at the Yokosuka Naval Arsenal to a modified Yamato-class design. As with Shinano's half-sisters Yamato and Musashi, the new ship's existence was kept a closely guarded secret. A tall fence was erected on three sides of the graving dock, and those working on the conversion were confined to the yard compound. Serious punishment—up to and including death—awaited any worker who mentioned the new ship. As a result, Shinano was the only major warship built in the 20th century to have avoided being officially photographed during its construction.

In December 1941, construction on Shinano's hull was temporarily suspended to allow the IJN time to decide what to do with the ship. She was not expected to be completed until 1945, and the sinking of the British capital ships Prince of Wales and Repulse by IJN bombers had called into question the viability of battleships in the war. In the month following the disastrous loss of four fleet carriers at the June 1942 Battle of Midway, the IJN ordered the ship's unfinished hull converted into an aircraft carrier. Her hull was only 45 percent complete by that time, with structural work complete up to the lower deck and most of her machinery installed. The main deck, lower side armor, and upper side armor around the ship's magazines had been completely installed, and the forward barbettes for the main guns were also nearly finished. Shinano was designed to load and fuel her aircraft on deck where it was safer for the ship; experiences in the Battles of Midway and the Coral Sea had demonstrated that the existing doctrine of fueling and arming their aircraft below decks was a real danger to the carriers if they were attacked while doing so. Much of Shinano's hangar was left open for better ventilation, although steel shutters could close off most of the hangar sides if necessary.

The ship was originally scheduled for completion in April 1945, but construction was expedited after the defeat at the Battle of the Philippine Sea in June 1944 as the IJN anticipated that the United States would now be able to bomb Japan with long-range aircraft from bases in the Mariana Islands. The builder was unable to increase the number of workers on Shinano and could not meet the new deadline of October. Even so, the pressure to finish as quickly as possible led to poor workmanship by the workforce. Shinano's launch on October 8th, 1944, with Captain Toshio Abe in command, was marred by what some considered an ill-omened accident. During the floating-out procedure, one of the caissons at the end of the dock that had not been properly ballasted with seawater unexpectedly lifted as the water rose to the level of the harbor. The sudden inrush of water into the graving dock pushed the carrier into the forward end, damaging the bow structure below the waterline and requiring repairs in drydock.

On November 19th, 1944, Shinano was formally commissioned at Yokosuka, having spent the previous two weeks fitting out and performing sea trials. Worried about her safety after a U.S. reconnaissance bomber fly-over, the Navy General Staff ordered Shinano to depart for Kure by no later than November 28th, where the remainder of her fitting-out would take place. Shinano carried six Shinyo suicide boats, and 50 Ohka suicide flying bombs; her other aircraft were not planned to come aboard until later. Her orders were to go to Kure, where she would complete fitting out and then deliver the kamikaze craft to the Philippines and Okinawa.

On November 29th, American submarine Archerfish, commanded by Commander Joseph F. Enright, picked up Shinano and her escorts on her radar and pursued them on a parallel course. Over an hour and a half earlier, Shinano had detected the submarine's radar. Normally, Shinano would have been able to outrun Archerfish, but the zig-zagging movement of the carrier and her escorts—intended to evade any American subs in the area—inadvertently turned the task group back into the sub's path on several occasions. Assuming Archerfish was being used as a decoy to lure away one of the escorts to allow additional submarines a clear shot at Shinano. He ordered his ships to turn away from the submarine with the expectation of outrunning it. the carrier was forced to reduce speed to 18 knots (33 km/h; 21 mph), the same speed as Archerfish, to prevent damage to the propeller shaft when a bearing overheated. At 02:56 on November 29th, Shinano turned to the southwest and headed straight for Archerfish. Eight minutes later, Archerfish turned east and submerged in preparation to attack. Enright ordered his torpedoes set for a depth of 10 feet (3.0 m) in case they ran deeper than set; he also intended to increase the chances of capsizing the ship by punching holes higher up in the hull. A few minutes later, Shinano turned south, exposing her entire side to Archerfish—a nearly ideal firing situation for a submarine.

Four torpedoes struck the Shinano. The first hit towards the stern, flooding refrigerated storage compartments and one of the empty aviation gasoline storage tanks, and killing many of the sleeping engineering personnel in the compartments above. The second hit the compartment where the starboard outboard propeller shaft entered the hull and flooded the outboard engine room. The third hit further forward, flooding the No. 3 boiler room and killing every man on watch. Structural failures caused the two adjacent boiler rooms to flood as well. The fourth flooded the starboard air compressor room, adjacent anti-aircraft gun magazines, and the No. 2 damage-control station, and ruptured the adjacent oil tank. Though severe, the damage to Shinano was at first judged to be manageable. This overconfidence pushed more water through the holes in the hull resulting in extensive flooding. Within a few minutes she was listing 10 degrees to starboard. At 10:57 Shinano finally capsized and sank stern-first. Over a thousand sailors and civilians were rescued and 1,435 were lost, including her captain. She remains the largest warship ever sunk by a submarine.

[gumnut-logic]

We’ll Be Home For Christmas 4.6

Title: We’ll be home for Christmas

Day Four – Five Billionaires and No Wives – Part 6 Prologue | 1.1 | 1.2 | 2.1 | 2.2 | 2.3 | 3.1 | 3.2 | 3.3 | 3.4 | 3.5 | 4.1 | 4.2 | 4.3 | 4.4 | 4.5 | 4.6

Author: Gumnut

24 May 2020

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS

Rating: Teen

Summary: The boys can’t fly home for Christmas, so they have to find another way.

Word count: 3495

Spoilers & warnings: language and so, so much fluff. Science!Gordon. Artist!Virgil, Minor various ships, mostly background. A little angst in this one along with a little minor sexual reference.

Timeline: Christmas Season 3, I have also kinda ignored the main storyline of Season 3. The boys needed a break, so I gave them one. Post season 3B, before Season 3C cos I started this fic before we saw it.

Author’s note: For @scattergraph​​​​. This is my 2019 TAG Secret Santa fic :D

Wow, written all in one day. I’ve been rereading the fic and running out of it and wanting more. Unfortunately, for there to be more I had to write more. I checked my archive and the last bit went up on May 11 right before everything at work went to hell, so I’m guessing that was the cause of the delay of this bit. I hope it was worth waiting for. This fic is nearly finished. A few threads to tie up in the next chapter, which, depending on what the characters do (cos they’ve thrown me two curve balls in this ::glares at both Grandma and Virgil:: so who knows what else they will do). i hope you enjoy it.

Many thanks to @i-am-chidorixblossom​​ @scribbles97​​​​ and @onereyofstarlight​​​​ for reading through various bits, fielding my many wibblies, and for all their wonderful support.

Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

-o-o-o-

Scott stared as his home crawled over the horizon. Lit from the west, the peaks of Tracy Island were sculpted in gold, the water surrounding her sparkling in the dying sun.

It was a beautiful sight.

Virgil shifted against him, snorting softly in sleep.

Scott had been out on the bow of the boat for hours. First talking to Virgil, working through some of the events of the day until his exhausted brother slowly tipped sideways, falling asleep despite the breeze and the soft toss of the boat.

Scott just wrapped an arm around him and held him while his brother slept.

His butt was numb from lack of circulation, but he didn’t care.

John had approached at one point and quietly handed him a tablet full of information about whales. It was full of data he didn’t understand and he desperately needed to talk to his genius brother about what it all meant.

But for the moment, he was content to listen to Virgil’s breathing, the wind and watch their home inch closer and closer.

He was aware of Gordon keeping an eye on both of them, the pilot adding more speed to the journey today than he had any other day. There had been relaxation, but all of that had disappeared with recent events.

Hell, it had disappeared the moment they had discovered the trapped calf.

Fire ignited in his belly at the thought. He needed to speak with Penelope and follow up on what had happened to those responsible.

His father’s desk lay waiting on the Island.

Relief and dread waited with it.

He closed his eyes and evened out his breathing. It had been such a relief to let go last night. Mel had met his energy with her own, her hands in his hair, a pardon on her lips. No ties, no obligation, just a moment to be himself, find comfort in her arms and let go.

He was ever so grateful. His brothers may laugh, but it was the only way he could truly release everything that built up day after day. Life was a challenge and he was willing to take it on, but everyone needed a moment.

Mel had given him that moment...and a little more.

Virgil shifted against him as Gordon turned the boat slightly and began to slow on approach.

Scott opened his eyes to watch Mateo shift to starboard. The bow dropped a little as their speed lessened, the background noise of the engine changing pitch.

Virgil muttered something and shifted again.

Scott held him that little bit tighter.

A Little Lightning arced around the smaller island that protected their caldera from the open ocean and the yacht entered the sheltered lagoon smoothly.

The petrel colony raised a ruckus and squawked like crazy as they motored past, Gordon cutting their speed to almost nothing as the yacht coasted over coral.

There were two docks on Tracy Island. One on either side of the villa. Gordon chose the one adjacent to Two’s runway for obvious reasons. It was harder to dock such a large vessel, but it would be easier to get Virgil onto land, and, via the hangars, up to the villa. The other dock, near the beach huts, required a hike up to the house that Virgil was in no shape to make. Scott had checked his brother’s incisions earlier in the day and they were well into healing, but...it had been a weird day and Virgil was still asleep.

Gordon nudged the yacht ever so slowly up to the little used dock. It had been designed for supply delivery early on in the venture, but once the runway had been built, it had been used for little other than the occasional Thunderbird Four testing regime and a little recreational boating.

Nothing as big as A Little Lightning.

Gordon had mentioned early on that they would likely use the inflatable when they reached home, but the aquanaut had obviously changed his mind.

Virgil was definitely the reason.

John darted past Scott and Virgil, docking pole in hand, turquoise eyes targeting both of them. He didn’t say anything, but the concerned frown shot at Scott said everything.

Ropes were launched at the wharf bollards and the engine dropped down to a bare rumble. Alan yelled an acknowledgement at the back of the boat and John held up a hand to signal to Gordon. A slight shift sideways and A Little Lightning nudged up against Tracy Island and was secured.

Gordon cut the engine and its absence was profound.

John turned and smiled at him.

They were home.

-o-o-o-

Soft fingers touched his cheek.

“Honey, it’s time to wake up.”

He screwed up his face. He was in that pleasant warm place just below consciousness and he didn’t want to leave it.

But his pillow rumbled just a little with quiet laughter. Cotton moved against his temple and an arm tightened gently around him.

“You’re going to have to be more direct than that, Grandma.”

Those words, said in his brother’s voice, and enough neurons came online to recognise that he was curled up on something hard, leaning against...the warm cotton shifted and a breath was drawn in. A heartbeat pulsed against his ear, slow and sure.

The whirr of a scanner made him frown.

Light flickered under his eyelids and he clenched his eyes shut.

“C’mon, Virgil, we’re home. You can’t sleep out here all night and my butt is going to drop off if it doesn’t get circulation soon.”

Another voice piped up. “And then you’ll have to face Mel for the loss of that perfect butt.”

“What do you know about Scott’s butt?” Higher pitched. Alan?

“Remember number twenty-nine? Or was it twenty-eight? The one that worked in that circus we saved from the flood? She wrote letters about it.”

His pillow shifted sharply. “What the hell, Gordon?”

“Hey, you’re the one who left your email open for all to see.”

“It is encrypted!”

“Only to those who don’t know the encryption code, Scotty.”

“Boys, keep it down. Give Virgil a chance to wake up properly.”

He found his mouth. “Too late.” A groan and he was pushing himself upright. Everything complained.

Everything. His gut, his back, the numb leg that had somehow been denied blood when he leant on it.

Several hands helped him sit up and he found himself blinking against the golden light of sunset.

Sunset?

What the hell?

“How long have I been asleep?”

“Long enough.” His eldest brother was standing up, stretching his limbs and obviously rubbing blood back into his extremities. “You’re heavy.” But the smile Scott sent him was fond and happy. “We’re home, Virg.”

John, Alan and Gordon were arrayed beyond Scott, but as he turned his head, two other presences made themselves known. Grandma was in front of him, scanner in hand, blue eyes frowning at him in concern.

And on the dock, beyond the railing, stood Kayo.

Her frown vanished the moment she realised he was looking at her and was replaced with a small smile. “Welcome home.”

It was addressed to all of them, but she was looking at him when she said it.

“Let’s get you off this boat, young man.”

Yes! He was home. His ‘bird’s runway stretched along the cliff above them and the whole purpose of the boat trip came home to rest in his heart. As he stood, Scott helping him to his feet, he turned to his brothers. “Thank you.” He could claim that his voice was rough from his half drowning a few hours ago. “Thank you for taking me home. You didn’t have to, but you did anyway.” Okay, now he was getting emotional. “Thank you.”

An arm slung about his shoulders. “Anytime, Virgil, anytime.” Scott’s eyes flashed almost green in the evening light.

Alan muttered something and darted past Gordon to wrap his arms around Virgil. “Don’t do that again.”

Virgil blinked. “Not planning on it.” He wasn’t sure whether Alan was referring to his appendix or the whale thing, but whatever. His arm came around his brother and held him tight.

John’s smile was soft, but full of enough to swell Virgil’s heart.

Gordon...

A moment and Virgil untangled himself from Scott and Alan, took those few steps to his fish brother and smothered him in a massive hug. As expected, Gordon squawked and struggled just enough to make his protest shown, but Virgil hung on.

“Thank you, Gordon. Best idea ever.”

Arms encircled his waist, but his brother didn’t answer.

The moment was broken by Grandma placing a gentle hand on his arm. “Virgil, I would like to do a full medscan. John reported that you’ve been rather active today.” Virgil shot a look at his younger brother. John just smiled a little more and shrugged.

It was to be expected. Virgil would have done the same thing under the circumstances.

He sighed and let Gordon go.

Russet brown stared up at him a moment before Gordon stepped aside and gestured Virgil towards the gangplank that connected A Little Lightning to the dock.

Scott materialised on one side and John on the other and he had to force himself not to roll his eyes in exasperation.

Between the two of them, they made sure he stepped securely onto solid ground, ghosted him up the hill to the runway and to one of the little runabouts they used to transport cargo about the Island. It was clear that he was the cargo.

Well, at least it wasn’t a hoverstretcher.

He let out a sigh as Scott drove him into Two’s hangar and his ‘bird loomed over him.

Home.

It was a matter of elevators and examinations after that. Grandma was very thorough. The word ‘pneumonia’ was bandied about as a possibility if he didn’t look after himself properly. Apparently, he had breathed in a little too much seawater.

Fortunately, his incisions were quite happy and well on the mend despite the two dunkings for the day. Grandma didn’t frown at him, but the firm line of her lips was enough to keep him quiet.

You did not mess around with Grandma regarding medical matters.

Hell, when cornering his brothers as a medic himself, often the only threat that kept them corralled was that he would bring in Grandma if they didn’t behave.

When Virgil was ill, there was no-one else. Grandma was always the one who looked after him. She always had.

And, in turn, he now looked after her.

“What happened out there, Virgil?” Her voice was soft. They were alone and his grandmother was putting away her instruments. She had run him through everything, even a brain scan. She was obviously concerned.

“I don’t know, Grandma.”

“John says you spoke to whales.”

He shook his head and let it drop. “I don’t know.”

A finger caught his chin and drew his head up to look into her eyes. “You keep yourself safe, Virgil. You hear me? You have family who need you. Family who love you.”

“I’m okay, Grandma.”

She stared at him a moment longer before letting out a breath and turning back to her instruments. “You’re off rescues for another week, but I suspect you knew that.”

He did, but part of him had hoped he could shorten it. One glance at Grandma and he knew he didn’t have a hope. “Yes, standard recovery period for an operation of this type.”

Blue eyes shot a suspicious glare at him, but he didn’t respond.

“Lots of bed rest. None of your heavy lifting. No gym until next week.”

Damn. “Yes, Grandma.”

She turned back and he was in her arms. “Welcome home, Virgil.”

He blinked and returned the hug. “I’m fine, Grandma.”

Those arms tightened just a fraction.

He frowned. “Grandma?”

She let him go and turned away. “You better go downstairs. Kayo has dinner ready for all of us. It’s Christmas Eve.” She straightened up and looked at him, her eyes saying something he couldn’t quite decipher. “We should celebrate as a family.”

“Okay.”

Her hand landed on his arm and squeezed gently before letting go. He took that as a dismissal, slid off the bed and grabbed his shirt. “Thank you, Grandma.”

She didn’t turn. “I’ll see you down there shortly.”

He frowned, but did as she asked and headed off to the comms room.

-o-o-o-

Scott stared at John and Gordon. “You think he is actually communicating with the whales.”

A pair of copper eyebrows rose. “We think so.”

“But Virgil told me himself that he doesn’t understand it.”

Eos’ voice was deceptively wise. “Commander, he may not understand consciously, but subconsciously.”

“Explain.” Scott glared at the simulacrum of spinning lights on the holoprojector.

“His brain is at least partly processing the information, enough to receive an impression of the content, but not enough to clarify it. He has processed enough to produce a vocalisation that connects with the whales despite the lack of range in his vocal cords. Humans cannot produce the sound required to emulate whale song without electronic enhancement. Virgil’s physical contact appears to have amplified his emissions enough for the whale to recognise his voice as a form of communication.” A graphic appeared on the ‘projector. A small portion was set aside and fit into the larger like a puzzle piece. “The whale was able to clarify his vocalisation into something that could be understood.”

“What did Virgil say?”

John answered him. “We don’t know.”

“We should ask him.” Gordon stood up. “And I think he should be part of this conversation.”

Scott bit back a retort. Every bone in his body wanted to protect Virgil from this.

But he knew he couldn’t.

Sagging, he sat down on the couch behind him and nodded.

Gordon stepped around the ‘projector and perched beside him. “Sam and I will find out more. I promise, Scott. This is a major breakthrough, you know that.”

Scott turned slowly to look at his little brother. “You saw what it did to him.”

“Do you trust me, Scott?” Russet brown bared his little brother’s soul.

He stared into those eyes. Little rapscallion Gordy, the prankster of the family. The ray of sunshine on moments so dark Scott feared his own survival. Did he trust Gordon? Trust him with Virgil’s life?

All the time.

“Yes, I do.”

Gordon swallowed. “Then trust me with this. I’ll keep him safe. I promise. We’ll work this out. Discover what it means. What exactly is going on.”

John cleared his throat. “Perhaps you should both speak to Virgil first?”

Scott turned to find his engineer brother standing by the kitchen stairs, staring at them.

-o-o-o-

“Virgil-“

“No!” His older brother threw his hands up and Gordon took a step back. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

So, of course, Scott took a step forward. “Vir-“

“No, Scott! Not now. Just leave it. I need to work this out for myself. I...I thank you for the information, John, Eos.” He nodded to the ‘projector. “Gordon, I understand the interest and I...empathise.” He sighed. “I just need time, guys, okay?”

“Okay.” It was parched and apparently his voice. The frown creasing Gordon’s forehead was deep enough to hurt. Why wasn’t Virgil letting him help?

His brother reached out and laid a hand on his shoulder. “Just some time, Gords, please.”

“Okay.”

“Then I’ll come to you.” Eyes a deeper brown than his own were pleading for understanding. “I promise.”

“Okay.” Gordon swallowed and cleared his throat. “Well, in that case, I vote we go eat before Alan inhales everything.” It was a simple distraction, but it worked.

Virgil squeezed his shoulder, his expression flashing thanks before turning away. The tension in the man’s back was pulling his shirt tight.

Maybe he was right. Maybe they should wait.

A blink and another swallow and Gordon followed Virgil from the room, Scott and John behind him.

-o-o-o-

The evening was a quiet one. All five brothers were tired after the day’s events, even Virgil who, despite having slept a few hours in the morning and afternoon, still looked like he was going to fall on his face at any moment.

Even Grandma was more reserved than usual, her gaze landing on Virgil repeatedly, her eyes distant as if in thought.

It was unnerving.

Kayo served dinner. A buffet of Asian dishes accompanied by rice and noodles. Most were purchased, but she had also made her own stir fry, a family favourite with just the right amount of chilli and cilantro. An appropriate welcome back feast, but none of them had the energy to truly appreciate it as much as it deserved.

After dinner saw them stocking presents under the massive Christmas tree in the comms room. Alan made various comments, especially when Virgil lugged out what was likely a painting wrapped in several layers of wrapping paper.

The fact he lugged it by himself led to words from Scott and the present being confiscated. Virgil’s protest that it wasn’t heavy was followed up by John stepping between the two of them and declaring he was going to help Virgil with his load. The two of them disappeared upstairs and Gordon was left with a grumpy Scott.

The whole lack of spirit finally cracked the aquanaut and he grabbed some tinsel off the tree, wrapped it into a ball and threw it at Scott’s head.

The astonishment on his big brother’s face was worth it.

Scott carefully placed the painting-shaped present down beside the tree and turned to verbally retaliate only to have his face muffled by a lounge cushion thrown by Alan.

“Bullseye!”

Gordon idly noted Brains taking one look at the resultant expression on Scott’s face and, grabbing Max, making a beeline for the elevator.

“Alan!”

“Yes, Scott?”

Gordon threw another ball of tinsel, silvery strands fluttering in the air as it flew.

“Gordon!”

Another couch cushion whacked Scott in the face.”

“Ala-“

More tinsel to the head.

Hmm, this tree really did have a lot of tinsel on it, but just in case, Gordon darted in and grabbed two of the balls he had already thrown.

He was not surprised when the remaining tinsel ball retaliated and hit him between the eyes.

Alan was landed by a return cushion volley. Scott really was a good shot.

“Oh, you are going down, bro.” Alan was positively gleeful and before they knew it, cushions, tinsel, several Christmas baubles and a pile of tribbles were hurtling back and forth across the room.

Kayo stood to one side and just rolled her eyes. Grandma joined in and was the likely source of the tribbles.

When John and Virgil returned, it was to utter chaos and not a small amount of laughter. Both got tribbles stuffed down their shirts and tinsel bounced off their heads.

John protested loudly at the use of his tribble stash, but Grandma told him to lighten up...right before she bounced one off his nose.

What followed that was a free for all.

The night got better, much to Gordon’s relief. His brothers loosened up, a little alcohol was dragged out and moods mellowed.

Of course, Alan was the first to nod off, curled up beside Gordon. He was fast followed by Virgil who yet again fell asleep on Scott. The worry that appeared on Scott’s face only made Gordon’s heart sink.

Grandma called it then, sending them all off to bed.

Virgil was nudged awake enough for Scott and John to get him on his feet and guide him to his bed. Gordon shouldered Alan and dragged him to the elevator.

“Thans, Gords.”

“Not a problem, bro.” The elevator was taking forever to return.

Alan turned into Gordon’s shoulder and slumped against it, half snoring.

“C’mon, Allie.” The elevator arrived and he helped his little brother aboard. If there was one thing Alan had in common with Virgil it was his ability to sleep.

Some complaints about the boat still rocking and Gordon tumbled his little brother into his bed. Shoes off, covers on. Gordon sat down beside his sleeping brother.

It had been one hell of a trip and now it was over. It was less than a week since Virgil folded in his pilot’s seat, yet it seemed years ago. One boat, four days and five brothers.

Alan rolled over and snorted in his sleep.

Gordon reached out and placed his hand on his arm.

“I’m gonna getcha, John.” It was quiet and mumbled into Alan’s pillow, but it was enough to push Gordon to his feet.

Blimey.

A blink that lasted longer than it should have and Gordon realised he was exhausted. One more glance at his little brother who was now muttering something about space resources and was no doubt plotting his brother’s video game demise, and Gordon made his way to the door.

One boat, four days, five brothers...and tomorrow.

Gordon went to bed.

-o-o-o-

End Day Four.

[spoon-writes]

Ends of the Earth | Chapter 5

Fandom: The Mandalorian

Pairing: Mando x OC

Read on FFN or AO3

Summary: When Sinead's husband is ripped from her, she escapes the Hutt Empire and goes on a quest to find him. Since being a runaway slave in the Outer Rim isn't exactly easy, she makes the Mandalorian an offer he can't refuse and soon they travel across the galaxy, looking for her missing husband.

Chapter index

Chapter 5 - Tatooine

Sinead turned the memory bank over and over, the metal warming up between her hands. Most of her life she'd found herself in close proximity to a mechanic, so learning proper droid maintenance had never been a priority, something she regretted now, looking down at the lifeless box.

A pleasant and familiar hum surrounded her as the ship hurtled through the dark void, lulling her into a sense of calm she hadn’t felt since leaving the ruins. Even now, hours later, she felt the presence of it lurking in the back of her mind.

Suddenly, the world tilted, and Sinead crashed to the floor. The memory bank few out of her hands and skipped across the floor. She pushed herself up on her hands and knees, when the ship rocked violently, making her cling to the bunk to keep from being thrown clean across the ship.

Two alarms started wailing in tandem.

She gritted her teeth and grabbed hold of a rung on the ladder, climbing into the cockpit before the ship shook and tipped wildly.

The Mandalorian was in the pilot’s seat, his hands flying across the dashboard, flicking switches and trying to stabilize the ship. The kid was strapped into his seat, his head swirling around to look at all the light coming to life.

Sinead sat down and pulled the safety harness over her shoulders.

"What the hell is going on?"

"Company."

The Mandalorian jerked the steering handles and the ship spun away, a volley of blaster bolts whizzing past the window.

According to a screen on the console, a small starfighter flew directly behind them, firing every time the Razor Crest was still for long enough. They'd never be able to outrun or outmaneuver it.

Cold dread expanded from the base of her spine, making her muscles twitch and tense. Every sound seemed dull, like she was hearing it from inside a vacuum.

The starboard turbine was hit, showering the cockpit in sparks as the shock traveled into the main engine. A third alarm joined the cacophony.

Sinead swallowed hard and found her voice. "Doesn't this hunk of metal have any shields?" She grabbed the armrests so hard her knuckles turned white.

The stars turned into streaks as the ship careened to the side, another round of lasers streaking past the window.

It had to be pirates, not many were brazen enough to attack a gunship, even out in the Outer Rim. Maybe this time she’d die instead of-

A shadowy figure flickered to life above the dashboard. "Give us the child, Mando," it said, its voice clipping in and out. "I might let you live."

Sinead looked at the child, who gurgling nervously to himself. She wanted to reach over and reassure him, but the harness was too tight. Why would anyone want the kid badly enough to attack them for it?

And explosion rocked through the ship, and underneath there was a sound of metal groaning.

Flashing lights danced on the Mandalorian’s helmet.

“Hold on.” Mando sent them into a wild spin, the stars turning into white streaks as all sense of direction spun away as quickly as the ship.

It felt like Sinead had been dropped down a bottomless well.

The hologram warped as power redirected. “I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold,” it said before cutting out completely.

There was no way the other ship wouldn’t blast them to smithereens the first chance it got.

Mando hit the brakes, and the ship hung unmoving in the air, before the starfighter screamed past it, scraping against the Crest with a sound like an old hovercart in a trash compactor.

Mando fired once, and the laser ripped through the small vessel before it had a chance to spin around and attack. The ship exploded, leaving glittering debris like stardust in its wake.

Sinead sat back in her seat. Her entire midsection felt bruised from the harness, but the alternative was being a smear on the window so she couldn’t complain.

“Nice flying.” She didn’t mean for it to come out sounding so sarcastic, but fear and adrenaline still coursed through her veins, making the blood rush in her ears.

The Mandalorian either didn’t hear or ignored her, as he checked the status of the ship.

“Losing fuel,” he mumbled mostly to himself.

Sinead undid her safety harness and reached over to the child. “Are you okay there?”

The kid laughed as the power went out and they found themselves in complete darkness.

“I think he’s okay,” Sinead said, gently booping him on the nose. “Please say we’re not stranded out here.”

“I think I can redirect the power,” the Mandalorian said, getting up and flicking a switch at the back of the cockpit.

The ship came to life, a sad, sputtering one that wouldn’t last long, but enough so that Mando could propel it towards the nearest planet, an orange dust ball hanging in the void.

“Are you gonna tell me who’s after the kid?”

Mando glanced at her over his shoulder.

“You know, this whole silence thing is getting old. At least come up with a lie like the rest of us.”

Mando glared at her, and Sinead offered him a sharp smile.

The planet was getting closer and closer when Sinead leaned forward. “What is this place even? Or are you not going to answer that either?”

“Tatooine.”

“Oh, that’s just great.”

The Mandalorian adjusted their course toward a small smidge on the planet’s surface. “The Hutt’s been dead for years, and he hasn’t been replaced yet.”

Sinead made an uncertain sound. “Yet, but I’m sure the clan’s just waiting until the region is stable again. They’re not exactly the type to give up a planet without a fight.”

“You been here before?”

“No, but I’ve heard it’s a desolate hellhole.”

Gold-orange crags and sand dunes took form as they cruised over the surface, the ship groaning with the effort it took to keep them in one piece.

Sand. She really hated sand.

The comm came to life and a scratchy voice filled the cockpit.

“This is Mos Eisley tower, we’re tracking you. Head for bay 3-5. Over.”

“Copy that. Locked in for 3-5.”

Mos Eisley was nearly impossible to see, a sandstone city poking up through the sand which piled up at the walls making the squat houses look like igloos in the desert. A communication tower rose from the center of the city, its blinking lights the only reason most travelers spotted the city from the air.

The ship wobbled as it made ready for landing, and new alarm blared. The Mandalorian turned it off with an irritated slap on the console.

The kid had fallen asleep sometime after the excitement of the dogfight died down, and the Mandalorian left him sleeping on the bunk, while Sinead retrieved the memory bank, which had ended up on the other side of the ship and stowing it away in the nearest compartment.

Mando looked at her. “Maybe you should stay in the ship.”

Sinead blew out a deep breath. “As you said, the Hutt’s long dead. I can take a look around his old palace, see if there’s something we can use.”

“Just be careful.”

Sinead snuck a glance at the Mandalorian. He wasn’t looking at her.

“Sure.”

Even before the ramp was down, Sinead felt the hot, unyielding fingers of the desert close around her throat. Dry heat snuck under her clothes, making her mouth feel as dry as the surroundings. Cold, unwanted memories pushed to the forefront and she took a second to put them back where they belonged, a dark and unused corner of her mind where they wouldn’t get in the way.

Three pit droids hurried toward the ship the second the ramp touch down, their rusty bodies bouncing over dusty ground like springs.

The Mandalorian pulled his blaster and shot once at the ground in front of the droids, who screeched and collapsed into small heaps, cowering in f-ear.

Sinead yelped and pressed a hand to her racing heart. “Fuck, Mando! What is it with you and droids?”

“Hey!” A shout rang out from inside a cluttered garage, and a short human woman wearing greasy overalls stormed out from behind a safety barrier. Her short stature was almost made up by her rather gravity defying hair. “You damage one of my droids, you pay for it!” The way she was brandishing a heavy wrench left exactly how he’d pay for it up to interpretation.

“Just keep them away from my ship,” Mando ground out, shooting a look at the droids who scurried away.

The mechanic gave him an unimpressed look. “Yeah? Do you think that’s a good idea, do ya? Let’s take a look at your ship.”

She walked around it, noting every dent and scratch on her datapad. “Look at that,” she said, holding a scanner up to the ship. “You gotta lotta carbon scorching building up top. If I didn’t know better, think you were in a shootout.”

Sinead stepped forward before the Mandalorian had a chance to reply. “We ran into a meteor shower out by the Torq. Barely made it planet-side, to tell you the truth.”

“Uh-huh,” the mechanic lifted an eyebrow, but she stopped asking questions, turning around to continue her inspection. “… a special tool for that one. Oh yeah, I’m gonna have to rotate that.”

The Mandalorian rolled his shoulders, and Sinead bit the inside of her cheek. That all sounded very expensive.

“You got a fuel leak! Look at this, this is a mess. How did you even land?”

“Like I said, just barely.” Sinead shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “How much for it?”

“The repairs you need ain’t exactly cheap-”

“I’ve got five hundred Imperial credits,” the Mandalorian said.

The mechanic grabbed the credits and have them a good look. “That’s all you got?” When the Mandalorian didn’t magically procure more money, she looked at the droids. “Well, what do you guys think?”

The droids tittered in unison, and the mechanic shrugged. “That should at least cover the hangar.”

“We’ll get you your money.”

“Mm, I’ve heard that before.” She gave both Sinead and the Mandalorian a skeptical look.

“Just remember- “

“Yeah, no droids. I heard ya’. You don’t have to say it twice.”

Sinead looked back at the ship as they left the hangar, a thin pillar of smoke was rising from the turbine and the mechanic had already started banging around underneath it.

The second she stepped out into the blaring sunlight, her face stung with sand being blasted through the street. If she never had to step foot in the desert again, she'd die a happy woman.

"So, what's the plan?" She asked the Mandalorian, who didn't look bothered in the heat. Of course, since she couldn't see his face he might be dying underneath the helmet. The T-visor seemed completely black in the sunlight.

"I’ll head to the cantina, see if I can find work. Don't get too close to the palace, the Hutt's guards might still be around."

Sinead gritted her teeth. "Right, I have been in these kinds of situations before you know: I'm not helpless."

"That's not-" the Mandalorian blew out a sharp breath and shook his head. "Never mind."

Sinead made her way to the Hutt's palace alone, reminding herself to breathe regularly, not too deep and not too shallow. She was just a tourist walking alone, not a runaway slave from the very clan that until recently had an iron grip on the planet. The people walking past her weren't staring, they didn't recognize her at all.

She clenched her hands so they'd stop fidgeting. It felt like someone was watching her, a burning spike to the back of her head.

A market had been raised in a big square, rows and rows of hastily put together stalls crisscrossed in a confusing jumble. Shouts from the many vendors mingled in the air into an incomprehensible wall of sound. A Besalisk was grilling sweet meats over an open fire, holding a skewer in each of his four hands. The meat sizzled as Sinead walked past.

Two Jawas screamed in unison at everyone who came close enough to their stall, doing little to entice anyone to stop. Piles of scrap spilled into the street, and the Jawas screeched in indignation whenever anyone accidentally stepped on it.

Sinead ambled down the rows, trying to look like she was browsing the goods without attracting so much attention that anyone would talk to her. Most of the wares being sold were practical, tools and dried food, spare parts for droids. Under a moth-eaten pavilion that offered little in the way of shade, she found a small booth filled with trinkets that looked like they had been ripped straight out of the bowels of a ship. There were brooches made of twisted metal and rings that doubled as lug nuts.

An old woman sat on the other side of the stall. She wore ragged clothes that at first glance made her look like a scarecrow left out in the sun for too long, and it wasn't until she moved that Sinead noticed her. Her face was disproportionately small for her body, resembling a walnut someone left on top of a pile of old laundry.

"See anything you like?" Her voice sounded like a trash compacter filled with rocks. "I make 'em myself."

That wasn't hard to believe. Sinead hummed politely and picked up a brooch made from cogs and a rubber binding. "I’m afraid jewelry isn't that high of a priority right now."

Her wrinkles deepened as she pursed her lips. "Meh, people don't even know what they need until it's right in front of ‘em. Tell ya’ what, I'll give you a good deal, okay? The earrings for fifty creds."

Sinead couldn’t help but snort. The earrings in question were made from old circuitry, the hooks so rusty that wearing them was a surefire way of getting a nasty infection. "Fifty is a bit steep, don't you think?"

The old woman grinned, showing her one snaggletooth poking over her lower lip. “Low price to pay for beauty, innit?”

Tapping on the table Sinead though for a second before saying, "tell you what, I'll buy one of your-" she gestured to the assorted jewelry- "wares … if you can give me some information in return."

The old lady grinned again, her tooth a terrible distraction, looking like a broken roof shingle. "Let's hear it then. What'ya want?"

"Oh no, information first, then the sale."

A shadow fell across the woman's face as she glared Sinead, her watery eyes studying her face. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you didn’t trust me."

Sinead kept her face carefully neutral. "Past experiences have taught me to hold payment until after I get what I want. I’m sure you understand, right?"

There was a cruel glint in the old woman's eyes. "You bet I do. Ask away, dear."

For one long moment, Sinead blanked on what to ask her. She wanted to talk about the Hutt, but the old crone had done nothing to inspire trust.

"The entire galaxy was turned upside down when the Empire fell. How was it here?"

The old woman cackled and folded her wizened hands over her stomach. "You haven't seen our little art project out by the wall, have ya’? A little parting gift from us to the Empire."

"Who controls the planet now? The New Republic-"

The old woman spat on the sand.

"... right."

"We control ourselves, dearie." Sinead had never heard a term of endearment used with so much venom. "We ain't need anyone come here and tell us how to run our own damn home. After they got the message, most of the bucketheads left. The ones who didn't, well, they make a good decoration, don't they?"

"A place outside the grip of the Empire and the Republic sounds nice."

"Sounds like you have something to hide."

Sinead shrugged. "I don't like tyrants or bureaucracy."

"We got rid of our old tyrant years ago, ain't ever looked back since," the old woman sneered,

There we go.

Sinead shifted her weight and leaned closer. "Heard about that on the subspace, that's nasty business. Any chance the Hutt's head is hanging with the others? I'd like to go give my goodbyes in person."

The old woman peered at Sinead. "Sounds personal."

"As far as I'm concerned, hating the Hutt clan is everyone's business, and those who don't are either terminally stupid or, well, part of the Hutt clan.”

"That kriffin' piece of blubber is probably still out in the Dune Sea somewhere. I doubt even the bloatflies'll touch his stinking corpse."

"He was killed in his palace? I heard that place is a fortress."

"My boy went out with some of the others, just to have a little lookie-loo at the place, but the slaves didn't wanna let nobody in. Said they’ve taken over. Been coming in from all over the galaxy, the buggers."

"They still out there?"

The old woman seemed to remember herself. "You ask an awful lot of question, dearie. Maybe it's time you hold up your end of the bargain, hmm?"

Sinead opened her mouth to protest. If Tatooine had managed to rid themselves completely of Hutt control, then maybe other systems would follow suit. The dangerous look in the old woman's eyes told her, however, that pressing on would be a bad idea.

"Sure," she said, looking earnestly at the merchandise. "Uh, yeah … how much for the necklace?" It was the only thing that, if you squinted and stood five meters away on a foggy day might resemble jewelry. It looked like an old optic unit ripped from a droid and attached to a leather string.

"Hundred creds."

"You're joking."

"My information doesn't come cheap, girl. I can always call the guards, say you robbed me of my hard-earned knowledge."

For once, Sinead was momentarily lost for words. "That doesn't-"

"Since the Empire left, we've had to handle justice ourselves, you see, and sometimes the new guards can be a little rough."

Sinead bared her teeth in a smile. "I'll give you twenty."

"Eighty."

"Thirty."

"Seventy-five."

"Thirty-five."

"Seventy-five."

Sinead tossed some credits on the table. "Forty. That's literally the last credits I own."

The old woman snatched the credits with remarkable speed, squirreling them away in her dirty cowl.

"Pleasure doing business with you," Sinead said, stuffing the necklace into her pocket before moving on from the stall.

When she got back to the hangar, the suns had reached the top of the sky and it had impossibly gotten even hotter.

Mando came walking from the other side, his gleaming armor standing out between the bedraggled denizens of Tatooine. He sped up when he saw Sinead.

"You should stay in the ship," he said, when they reached the door to the hangar at the same time.

"You know, people usually greet each other before starting to bark commands, you should really try it."

The Mandalorian shook his head, grumbling under his breath.

“Did you manage to find work, or do we have to go back empty handed? I have a feeling that won’t go over too well with the mechanic.”

“I did, but look … does the name Fennec Shand mean anything to you?”

The color drained from Sinead's face.

"She's hiding out in the Dune Sea with a bounty on her head. I have to bring her back."

"Alive?"

"Yes."

"What a shame."

Fennec Shand’s name brought with it a very special kind of dread. Every Hutt slave had heard stories of Shard bringing back runaway slaves in a condition where they wished they were dead.

“I’ll stay in the ship.” Sinead looked around, like she expected Shand to jump out from behind the nearest hover-cart. “How long will it take?”

“I don’t know. I’m bringing this kid … it doesn’t matter.”

Sinead bit her lips. “Just make sure you get her. I don’t want her coming to Mos Eisley in a murderous rage.”

The Mandalorian moved towards the entrance to the hangar, and when the door opened, the smell of oil and metal hit them.

She wanted to get off this planet, doubly so now she knew that a vicious killer for hire had made this her home. There was nothing to do but wait.

<- Previous chapter - Next chapter ->

[isaackuo]

Space Carrier VARUHARA WIP notes

Here's a WIP for a retro C64 video game intro. It's a hard Science Fiction setting, with unabashed retro tropes.

SPACE CARRIER VARUHARA INTRO SEQUENCE

VALHALLA EXTERIOR

Sasaki, flying a small scout Dauber, approaches the Valhalla. Valhalla is slowly spinning for artificial gravity.

Valhalla fires ball ammo from a railgun turret at the Dauber.

The Dauber absorbs the bullets into a large foam shield. This slows down the Dauber for final approach.

The Dauber enters the stern trap.

In the cockpit, Sasaki is exhausted and yawning.

VALHALLA HANGAR

Gori-Lieutenant: Late again, and running on gas! Do you want another demotion?

Sasaki-Lieutenant: Yawn ... Come on, Gori-Lieutenant, no one cares that much. I demoted myself.

Gori: What?

Sasaki: Budget cuts - when did we last _fuel_ the Vallhunds for CAP?

Gori: well, the boiloff...

Sasaki: ch! I can _fly_ in a Dauber ... yawn ... zzz

Gori: So serious. There's nothing out there.

Sasaki: ... my brother is ... zzz

Gori shakes his head, and lets Sasaki nap in the cockpit while he begins mounting boosters.

DEEP SPACE, VALHALLA IN DISTANCE

In the background of stars, a weird gash rips apart. A fleet of alien starships spill from the rip.

VALHALLA BRIDGE

Radar officer: C-Captain! Something is there! Umm ... 190km away?!? Octant 5.

Chiba-Captain: 190km??? How? Stealth? Or ...

Radar officer: Battleships! ... maybe ... Missiles!

Chiba: Battlestations! Condition red! Helm! De-spin, and aim cats for missile intercept!

Helm officer: Yessir!

Chiba: Weapons! N-Beams, target missiles!

Weapons officers: Yessir!

Chiba: Handler! Scramble all Vallhunds! 5 percent fuel!

Aircraft handler: Yessir!

Radar officer: Captain! The budget ...

Chiba: Time! It's _time_ we lack. Missile ETA is 80 seconds. Do you know how long it takes to fully fuel a Vallhund?

Radar officer: I don't know.

Chiba: Our alpha strike drill record is ten minutes.

VALHALLA HANGAR

Pilots and deck officers are scrambling, hurrying into cockpits and fueling the fighters.

Sasaki is still asleep, but Gori is hooking bridle lines to her Dauber. The Dauber already has two quad racks of boosters loaded.

Gori: Oy! Open bridle brakes!

Gori bangs on the Dauber's cockpit.

Gori: Wake up, Sasaki! It's a scramble!

Gori pushes to float back. The airlock door slides shut. The airlock is enormous compared to the Dauber, reflecting its small size compared to the Vallhunds.

VALHALLA BRIDGE

Chiba, looking at screen: What type of ships are they?

Radar officer: Type ... unknown. Radar emissions ... absent. No emissions at all ... wait. UV? UV or something.

Chiba: UV lidar, perhaps?

Radar officer: Maybe ... I don't get it.

Chiba: Damage report!

Damage control officer: Damage reports absent!

Chiba: What? The enemy has no n-beams? No beams at all, maybe? Missiles only?

Chiba: Missile status?

Radar officer: No change. Impossible to assess n-beam effects.

Chiba: Helm! Upward thrust, 30 mps.

Helm officer: Yessir!

Radar officer: Missile maneuvers! Upward ... 30 mps.

Chiba: So ... guidance unaffected by n-beams? No way. But what about the warheads?

Chiba: Weapons! N-beams target enemy battleships!

Weapons officer: ... Where?

Chiba: Identify any promising points at will. Use your own judgment.

Weapons officer: Acknowledged!

VALHALLA CATAPULT TUNNEL

Airlock chamber in the floor rotates to reveal the Dauber. Sasaki is still asleep, with her helmet lolling.

The bridle lines pull the Dauber up into the center of the tunnel, positioned for launch.

In the left side of the tunnel, a large digital count-down display shows 10, 9, -- on 8, the Dauber is accelerated down the tunnel at incredible speed.

In the cockpit Sasaki's helmet slams rearward, instantly waking her; the cockpit is vibrating like crazy.

VALHALLA EXTERIOR

The Dauber silently exits the starboard cat tunnel; the disposed bridle lines glint briefly with reflected sunlight at the same moment that a naval bridle would have splashed into the ocean.

VALHALLA BRIDGE

Handler: Dauber away!

Chiba: So soon!

Chiba holds mic to face.

Chiba: Hailing Dauber. Chiba-Captain.

Sasaki: Dauber here. Sasaki-Lieutenant.

Chiba: 14 missiles at 120km, Sasaki-Lieutenant. You see them?

Sasaki: Yes, I see them on radar ... and visual.

Chiba: Missile guidance seems unaffected by N-beams. We are firing on them with N-beams. Intercept and observe.

Sasaki: Acknowledged!

Chiba: Weapons! N-beams, target missiles!

Weapons officer: Yessir!

VALHALLA HANGAR

Vallhunds are still being fueled and supplied. Two Vallhunds, still attached to fuel lines, are being moved to the airlocks at opposite sides of the hangar. Those two visibly have no weapons mounted on their rocket rails.

DEEP SPACE, VALHALLA IN DISTANCE

The Dauber thrusts back toward the Valhalla with booster packs, first discarding a pair of boosters from the left rack, and then discarding a pair of boosters from the right rack. As the second pair is discarded, the missiles catch up to the Dauber.

Sasaki: Hailing Valhalla. Sasaki-Lieutenant.

Chiba: Valhalla here. Chiba-Captain.

Sasaki: You're firing N-beams at the missiles?

Chiba: Yes.

Sasaki: Neutron signature ... absent. No, minimal. Consistent with N-beam scatter.

Chiba: No way! They're not nuclear weapons? Observe closer.

Sasaki: Acknowledged ... I'm approaching a missile ...

Sasaki: What kind of missile is this? Unknown type. No obvious sensors or thrusters. No emissions. Permission to engage?

Chiba: Engage.

Sasaki: Acknowledged.

Sasaki opens fire with recoilless machine cannon. The missile instantly jinks hard upon impact.

Sasaki: So fast!

Sasaki continues firing upon the jinking missile, but it's very hard to hit

Sasaki: It's dodging! So hard to hit! No ... not dodging. _Reacting_...

Sasaki takes a break from firing. After a couple seconds, the missile thrusts back on course.

Sasaki studies the sensor readings.

Sasaki: What! No way ... 500 KeV gamma signature? Positrons?

Chiba: Positrons? Anti-matter warhead? What is this enemy!

Sasaki: Bullets! Ball ammo! It can work!

Sasaki resumes firing upon missile; it reacts with chaotic thrusts opposite the impact points

Chiba: Weapons! Railguns, target missiles! Ball ammo!

Weapons officer: Yessir!

Chiba: Sasaki-Lieutenant, disengage! We're firing upon the missiles with ball ammo.

Sasaki: Don't mind me! They're too hard to hit from a distance.

Chiba: Understood.

VALHALLA EXTERIOR

Railgun turrets fire streaks of glowing hot ball ammo toward the missiles

DAUBER EXTERIOR

Glowing ball ammo streaks from the Valhalla rain all around.

Sasaki fires upon and chases a missile, finally shattering it to pieces at very short range with a good string of hits.

Sasaki looks up at the Valhalla, having grown larger in view.

Sasaki: Damnit!

Sasaki stops firing and pilots the Dauber to physically grab a missile.

Sasaki: No reaction?

Sasaki thrusts toward another missile and physically throws the missile she's holding at the other missile. Both missiles explode spectacularly on impact.

Sasaki: Got it!

Sasaki flies toward another missile. This time, her Dauber's shield - luckily placed between her and the enemy fleet - glows hot.

Sasaki: Eh? UV? UV laser?

As Sasaki approaches the missile, a spot on the missile glows from laser fire before an explosive reaction thrusting away.

Sasaki: No way! Guidance was unaffected because guidance is absent! The missiles are dumb rocks!

Sasaki chases the missile to try and grab it, but it is dodging too well. The Valhalla is getting larger in the background.

VALHALLA CATAPULT TUNNEL

The airlock chamber rotates to reveal a lightly armed Vallhund. Its large size fills out the chamber.

The bridle lines lift the Vallhund into the tunnel.

VALHALLA BRIDGE

Chiba: Handler! Status?

Handler: We won't make it, damnit!

Chiba pauses in thought.

Chiba (into mic): Sasaki-Lieutenant, disengage. Avoid the blast radius.

Sasaki: No, I can still ...

Chiba: This is my final order, Sasaki-Captain.

Sasaki is shocked.

Sasaki: A-acknowledged.

VALHALLA CATAPULT TUNNEL

Vallhund accelerates down the tunnel.

Before it reaches the end, massive explosions erupt into the tunnel.

DAUBER EXTERIOR

The Valhalla zooms past the Dauber, VARUHARA visible on the hull momentarily as it shrinks into the distance. It is crumbled by massive explosions, albeit smaller than nuclear explosions.

The Dauber turns to face the empty place where the Valhalla was. The imposing enemy fleet becomes visibly apparent.

- - - - - 8< - - - - -

BACKGROUND TECHNOLOGY NOTES

The heavy carrier Valhalla is a solar powered spacecraft with hydrolox fuel and four main engines. It normally operates with spin gravity. In spin mode, only one engine is required for full maneuvering capability - it works like a spinning helicopter rotor with cyclic and collective throttling for maneuvering. When de-spun, it is desirable to have either the upper pair or the lower pair of engines functional.

Valhalla's main armament is six neutron beam turrets. Ion pulses drive neutrons via magnetized plasma wakefield acceleration. These neutron beams can fry guidance electronics and disrupt nuclear warheads, making them potent missile defenses. However, it is difficult to assess how much damage has been done to the target.

In the previous interplanetary war, the proliferation of N-beam defenses outmoded long range missiles. Large fighters armed with short range rockets proved more effective. Their large fuel tanks provided adequate neutron shielding to get past defenses. To improve range and endurance, carriers began incorporating catapults to launch fighters and railguns to brake returning fighters. Valhalla exemplifies late war carrier design.

Valhalla's space wing is dominated by Vallhund fighters - a post-war design. They use the same hydrolox fuel as Valhalla itself, maximizing range and delta-v thanks to high specific impulse. However, Vallhunds were designed for high intensity conflict, lacking insulation to mitigate hydrogen boiloff. Valhalla is currently operating far from supply lines, so the Vallhunds are rarely fueled up for operations. Still, this is not considered a serious problem, because any enemy will be detected from far away.

Another fighter type is the small Dauber scout. It's a pre-war design, dominated by its tail radar. It uses magnesium-aluminum/lox hybrid rocket boosters to maximize endurance, because they don't suffer from boiloff. For extended delta-v, multiple disposable booster packs are used. The Dauber's flexible limbed design has given it the ability to keep up with the times, despite a lack of N-beam protection.

Valhalla's catapults use a bridle line system. The bridle lines suspend the fighter in the tunnel. The shuttles are accelerated by linear motor electromagnets paired in series, guaranteeing that their movement down the tunnel is synchronized. This bridle system is more suitable than a less retro nose gear system, because the desired speed exceed speeds suitable for wheeled landing gear.

- - - - - 8< - - - - -

ADDITIONAL TACTICS NOTES

Captain Chiba's most obvious tactical error was fruitlessly trying to launch Vallhund fighters rather than the small complement of Dauber scouts. However, he's a veteran of an interplanetary war in which "There's No Stealth in Space". The possibility of an encounter without hours of advance notice was inconceivable. Under such unthinkable time constraints, it's natural to stick to practices that one has trained for. Even if Captain Chiba tried to push his crew into novel tactics, it would be unlikely to work as well as doing what they've trained for.

As it was, there was never a possibility of launching all of the Dauber scouts very quickly. They're considered auxiliary support for the strike fighters, so only one was ever launched at a time. As such, only one deck hand was comfortable with prepping a Dauber unsupervised.

Captain Chiba references "alpha strike" drill times, even though an alpha strike consists of fully loading and launching all Vallhund fighters. Why not reference a fast interceptor scramble drill? Simply put, they never drilled for such a thing. Late war carrier tactics revolved around opposing alpha strikes directly pummeling their way through each other. Holding back any of the space wing in reserve would only be a recipe for losing the battle. Concentrating a full alpha strike was the way to both maximize chances of victory and minimize fighter losses.

Conversely, the alien tactics seem puzzling. They only launch about a dozen missiles, and no fighters. Partly, this is because they are testing the capabilities of an unfamiliar enemy with unfamiliar technology. Also, it is because of an internal bet. The mysterious advisor to this invasion mission, Quartz Brooder, has bet the task force's commander that a mere 14 missiles would be sufficient to win the battle. The commander is incredulous, but intrigued enough to see how it goes. She knows full well that her fleet has overwhelming numerical superiority regardless.

Basically, Valhalla was doomed because the enemy had a greatly superior force and greatly superior information. If we include the knowledge of Quartz Brooder, the enemy had a very good idea of the weaknesses of the enemy and how to exploit them. In contrast, the human force had no idea such an enemy was even possible.

[notyourdadshistory-blog]

KMS Scharnhorst was ordered as Ersatz Elsass as a replacement for the old pre-dreadnought Elsass, under the contract name "D." The Kriegsmarinewerft in Wilhelmshaven was awarded the contract, where the keel was laid on 16 July 1935. The ship was launched on 3 October 1936, witnessed by Adolf Hitler, Minister of War Generalfeldmarschall Werner von Blomberg, and the widow of Kapitän zur See Schultz, the commander of the armored cruiser Scharnhorst, which had been sunk at the Battle of the Falkland Islands during World War I. Fitting-out work followed her launch, and was completed by January 1939. Scharnhorst was commissioned into the fleet on 9 January for sea trials, which revealed a dangerous tendency to ship considerable amounts of water in heavy seas. This caused flooding in the bow and damaged electrical systems in the forward gun turret. As a result, she went back to the dockyard for extensive modification of the bow. The original straight stem was replaced with a raised "Atlantic bow." A raked funnel cap was also installed during the reconstruction, along with an enlarged aircraft hangar; the main mast was also moved further aft. The modifications were completed by November 1939, by which time the ship was finally fully operational.

Scharnhorst displaced 32,100 long tons (32,600 t) as built and 38,100 long tons (38,700 t) fully loaded, with a length of 234.9 m (771 ft), a beam of 30 m (98 ft) and a maximum draft of 9.9 m (32 ft). She was powered by three Brown, Boveri & Cie geared steam turbines, which developed a total of 159,551 shp; 118,977 kW and yielded a maximum speed of 31.5 knots (58.3 km/h; 36.2 mph) on speed trials. Her standard crew numbered 56 officers and 1,613 enlisted men, augmented during the war to 60 officers and 1,780 men. While serving as a squadron flagship, Scharnhorst carried an additional ten officers and 61 enlisted men.

She was armed with nine 28 cm (11.1 in) L/54.5 guns arranged in three triple gun turrets: two turrets forward, one superfiring—Anton and Bruno—and one aft—Caesar. The design also enabled the ship to be up-gunned with six 15 inch guns which never took place. Her secondary armament consisted of twelve 15 cm (5.9 in) L/55 guns, fourteen 10.5 cm L/65 and sixteen 3.7 cm (1.5 in) SK C/30 L/83, and initially ten 2 cm (0.79 in) C/30 anti-aircraft guns. The number of 2 cm guns was eventually increased to thirty-eight. Six 53.3 cm (21.0 in) above-water torpedo tubes, taken from the light cruisers Nürnberg and Leipzig, were installed in 1942.

Commanding officers:

At her commissioning, Scharnhorst was commanded by Kapitän zur See (KzS) Otto Ciliax. His tenure as the ship's commander was brief; in September 1939, an illness forced him to go on sick leave, and he was replaced by KzS Kurt-Caesar Hoffmann. Hoffmann served as the ship's captain until 1942. On 1 April 1942, Hoffmann, who had been promoted to Konteradmiral (Rear Admiral) and awarded the Knight's Cross, transferred command of the ship to KzS Friedrich Hüffmeier. In October 1943, shortly before Scharnhorst's last mission, Hüffmeier was replaced by KzS Fritz Hintze, who was killed during the ship's final battle.

Service History

Scharnhorst's first operation began on 21 November 1939; the ship, in company with her sister Gneisenau, the light cruiser Köln, and nine destroyers, was to patrol the area between Iceland and the Faroe Islands. The intent of the operation was to draw out British units and ease the pressure on the heavy cruiser ("pocket battleship") Admiral Graf Spee, which was being pursued in the South Atlantic. Two days later, the German flotilla intercepted the British armed merchant cruiser Rawalpindi. At 16:07, lookouts aboard Scharnhorst spotted the vessel, and less than an hour later Scharnhorst had closed the range. At 17:03, Scharnhorst opened fire, and three minutes later a salvo of her 28 cm guns hit Rawalpindi's bridge, killing the captain Edward Coverly Kennedy, and the majority of the officers. During the brief engagement, Rawalpindi managed to score a hit on Scharnhorst, which caused minor splinter damage.

By 17:16, Rawalpindi was burning badly and in the process of sinking. Admiral Wilhelm Marschall, aboard Gneisenau, ordered Scharnhorst to pick up survivors. These rescue operations were interrupted by the appearance of the cruiser Newcastle. The German force quickly fled north before using inclement weather to make the dash south through the North Sea. Four allied capital ships, the British Hood, Nelson, Rodney and the French Dunkerque followed in pursuit. The Germans reached Wilhelmshaven on 27 November, and on the trip both battleships incurred significant damage from heavy seas and winds. Scharnhorst was repaired in Wilhelmshaven, and while in dock, her boilers were overhauled.

Operation Weserübung

Following the completion of repairs, Scharnhorst went into the Baltic Sea for gunnery training. Heavy ice in the Baltic kept the ship there until February 1940 when she could return to Wilhelmshaven, arriving on 5 February. She was then assigned to the forces participating in Operation Weserübung, the invasion of Denmark and Norway. Scharnhorst and Gneisenau were the covering force for the assaults on Narvik and Trondheim; the two ships left Wilhelmshaven on the morning of 7 April. They were joined by the heavy cruiser Admiral Hipper. Later that day, at around 14:30, the three ships came under attack by a force of British bombers, which failed to make any hits. Heavy winds caused significant structural damage that evening, and flooding contaminated a portion of Scharnhorst's fuel stores.

At 09:15 the following morning, Admiral Hipper was detached to reinforce the destroyers at Narvik, which had reported engaging British forces. Early on 9 April, the two ships encountered the British battlecruiser HMS Renown. Gneisenau's Seetakt radar picked up a radar contact at 04:30, which prompted the crews of both vessels to go to combat stations. Half an hour later, Scharnhorst's navigator spotted gun flashes from Renown firing at Gneisenau; the Germans returned fire three minutes later. Gneisenau was hit twice in the opening portion of the engagement, and one shell disabled her rear gun turret. Scharnhorst's radar malfunctioned, which prevented her from being able to effectively engage Renown during the battle. At 05:18, the British battlecruiser shifted fire to Scharnhorst, which maneuvered to avoid the falling shells. By 07:15, Scharnhorst and Gneisenau had used their superior speed to escape from the pursuing Renown. Heavy seas and the high speed with which the pair of battleships escaped caused them to ship large amounts of water forward. Scharnhorst's forward turret was put out of action by severe flooding. Mechanical problems with her starboard turbines developed after running at full speed, which forced the ships to reduce speed to 25 knots (46 km/h; 29 mph).

Scharnhorst and Gneisenau had reached a point north-west of Lofoten, Norway, by 12:00 on 9 April. The two ships then turned west for 24 hours while temporary repairs were effected. After a day of steaming west, the ships turned south and rendezvoused with Admiral Hipper on 12 April. An RAF patrol aircraft spotted the three ships that day, which prompted an air attack. The German warships were protected by poor visibility, however, and the three ships safely reached port later that day. Scharnhorst returned to Germany, and was repaired at the Deutsche Werke in Kiel. During the repair process, the aircraft catapult that had been installed on the rear gun turret was removed.

The two ships left Wilhelmshaven on 4 June to return to Norway. They were joined by Admiral Hipper and four destroyers. The purpose of the sortie was to interrupt Allied efforts to resupply the Norwegians and to relieve the pressure on German troops fighting in Norway. On 7 June, the squadron rendezvoused with the tanker Dithmarschen to refuel Admiral Hipper and the four destroyers. The next day, a British corvette was discovered and sunk, along with the oil tanker Oil Pioneer. The Germans then launched their Arado 196 float planes to search for more Allied vessels. Admiral Hipper and the destroyers were sent to destroy Orama, a 19,500 long tons (19,800 t) passenger ship, while Atlantis, a hospital ship, was allowed to proceed unmolested. Admiral Marschall detached Admiral Hipper and the four destroyers to refuel in Trondheim, while he would steam to the Harstad area.

At 17:45, the German battleships spotted the British aircraft carrier Glorious and two escorting destroyers, Ardent and Acasta, at a range of some 50,000 m (55,000 yd). Scharnhorst was closer and therefore fired first. Six minutes after opening fire, Scharnhorst scored a hit at a range of 24,100 m (26,400 yd). The shell struck the carrier's upper hangar and started a large fire. Less than ten minutes later, a shell from Gneisenau struck the bridge and killed Glorious's captain. The two destroyers attempted to cover Glorious with smoke screens, but the German battleships could track the carrier with their radar. By 18:26 the range had fallen to 25,600 m (28,000 yd), and Scharnhorst and Gneisenau were firing full salvos at the carrier. After approximately an hour of shooting, the German battleships sent Glorious to the bottom. They also sank the two destroyers. Before sinking one of them, Acasta, managed to hit Scharnhorst with a torpedo at 18:39. Acasta also hit Scharnhorst's forward superfiring turret with her 4.7" QF guns, which did negligible damage. The torpedo hit caused serious damage; it tore a hole 14 by 6 m (15.3 by 6.6 yd) and allowed 2,500 t (2,500 long tons; 2,800 short tons) of water into the ship. The rear turret was disabled and 48 men were killed. The flooding caused a 5 degree list, increased the stern draft by almost a meter, and forced Scharnhorst to reduce speed to 20 knots (37 km/h; 23 mph). The ship's machinery was also significantly damaged by the flooding, and the starboard propeller shaft was destroyed.

The damage was severe enough to force Scharnhorst to put into Trondheim for temporary repairs. She reached port on the afternoon of 9 June, where the repair ship Huaskaran was waiting. The following day a reconnaissance plane from RAF Coastal Command spotted the ship, and a raid by twelve Hudson bombers took place on 11 June. The Hudsons dropped thirty-six 227 lb (103 kg) armor-piercing bombs, which all missed. The Royal Navy joined in the attacks on the ship by sending the battleship Rodney and the aircraft carrier Ark Royal. On 13 June, Ark Royal launched fifteen Skua dive bombers; German fighters intercepted the attackers and shot eight of them down. The other seven made it past the air defenses and attacked Scharnhorst, but only scored one hit, and the bomb failed to detonate. Preliminary repairs were completed by 20 June, which permitted the ship to return to Germany. While Scharnhorst was en route under heavy escort on 21 June, the British launched two air attacks, six Swordfish torpedo bombers in the first and nine Beaufort bombers in the second. Both were driven off by anti-aircraft fire and fighters. The Germans intercepted British radio traffic that indicated the Royal Navy was at sea, which prompted Scharnhorst to make for Stavanger. British warships were within 35 nmi (65 km; 40 mi) of Scharnhorst's position when she turned to Stavanger. The next day, Scharnhorst left Stavanger for Kiel, where repairs were carried out, lasting some six months.

Operation Berlin

Following the completion of repairs, Scharnhorst underwent trials in the Baltic before returning to Kiel in December 1940. There she joined Gneisenau, in preparation for Operation Berlin, a planned raid into the Atlantic Ocean designed to wreak havoc on the Allied shipping lanes. Severe storms caused damage to Gneisenau but Scharnhorst was undamaged. The two ships were forced to put into port during the storm: Scharnhorst went to Gotenhafen while Gneisenau went to Kiel for repairs. Repairs were quickly completed, and on 22 January 1941, the two ships, under the command of Admiral Günther Lütjens, left port for the North Atlantic. They were detected in the Skagerrak and the heavy units of the British Home Fleet deployed to cover the passage between Iceland and the Faroes. The Germans' radar detected the British at long range, which allowed Lütjens to avoid the British patrols, with the aid of a squall. By 3 February, the two battleships had evaded the last British cruiser patrol, and had broken into the open Atlantic.

On 6 February, the two ships refueled from the tanker Schlettstadt south of Cape Farewell. Shortly after 08:30 on 8 February, lookouts spotted convoy HX 106, escorted by the battleship Ramillies. Lütjens' orders prohibited him from engaging Allied capital ships, and so the attack was called off. Scharnhorst's commander, KzS Hoffmann, however, closed to 23,000 m (25,000 yd) in an attempt to lure Ramillies away from the convoy so that Gneisenau could attack the convoy. Lütjens ordered Hoffmann to rejoin the flagship immediately. The two battleships steamed off to the northwest to search for more shipping. On 22 February, the pair spotted an empty convoy sailing west, which dispersed at the appearance of the battleships. Scharnhorst managed to sink only one ship during the encounter, the 6000 ton tanker Lustrous.

Lütjens then decided to move to a new area, as the surviving members of the dispersed convoy had sent distress signals. He chose the Cape Town-Gibraltar convoy route, and positioned himself to the northwest of Cape Verde. The two ships encountered another convoy, escorted by the battleship Malaya, on 8 March. Lütjens again forbade an attack, but he shadowed the convoy and directed U-boats to attack. A pair of U-boats sank a total of 28,488 tons of shipping on the night of 8–9 March. Malaya turned on the two battleships and closed to 24,000 m (26,000 yd), well within the range of the Germans' guns, but Lütjens refused to be drawn into an engagement. He instead turned toward the mid-Atlantic, where Scharnhorst sank the Greek cargo ship Marathon. The two ships then refueled from the tankers Uckermark and Ermland on 12 March.

On 15 March, the two battleships, with the two tankers in company, encountered a dispersed convoy in the mid-Atlantic. Scharnhorst sank two ships. Several days later, the main body of the convoy was located, and Scharnhorst sank another seven ships totaling 27,277 tons. One of the surviving ships radioed the location of the German battleships, which summoned the powerful British battleships Rodney and King George V. Scharnhorst and Gneisenau used their high speed to escape in a squall, and the intervention by the British battleships convinced Lütjens that the chances of further success were small. He therefore decided to head for Brest in occupied France, which the ships reached on 22 March. Throughout the operation, Scharnhorst had difficulties with the superheater tubes in her boilers. Repair work lasted until July, which caused the ship to be unavailable during Operation Rheinübung, the sortie by the new battleship Bismarck in May 1941.

Air raid on 24 July 1941

After repairs were completed in July, Scharnhorst went to La Pallice for trials on the 21st, where she easily steamed at 30 knots (56 km/h; 35 mph). She did not return to Brest to avoid an undesirable concentration of heavy units in one port (the Prinz Eugen had arrived there on 21 July) but moored alongside at La Pallice on 23 July. The RAF had planned a large, complicated raid on the capital ships in Brest for the night of 24 July, but an aerial reconnaissance photograph  of Scharnhorst in her berth at La Pallice caused a last minute alteration to the operation. The Halifax heavy bombers of No. 35 Squadron RAF and No. 76 Squadron RAF flew the extra 200 miles (320 km) to reach Scharnhorst and the rest of the raid on Brest went ahead as planned, with Prinz Eugen and Gneisenau as their principal targets. The 15 Halifaxes attacked Scharnhorst at her moorings . They scored five hits in an almost straight line on the starboard side, parallel to the centerline. Three of the bombs were 454 kg (1,001 lb) armor-piercing bombs, and the other two were 227 kg (500 lb) high-explosive bombs. One of the 227 kg bombs hit the deck just forward of the starboard 15 cm twin turret next to the conning tower. It passed through the upper and middle decks before exploding on the main armored deck, which contained the blast. The joints with the torpedo bulkhead were weakened enough to cause leaking. The second 227 kg bomb fell forward of the rear main battery turret and penetrated the first two decks. It also exploded on the armored deck and tore a small hole in it. The explosion caused splinter damage and disabled the ammunition hoists for the 37 mm anti-aircraft guns.

Two of the 454 kg bombs hit amidships between the 15 cm and 10.5 cm gun turrets; both failed to explode and penetrated the ship completely. The first went through each deck and exited the ship through the double bottom, while the other was deflected by the torpedo bulkhead and penetrated the hull beneath the side belt armor. The third 454 kg bomb hit aft of the rear 28 cm turret, about 3 m (9.8 ft) from the side of the ship. It too failed to detonate, and passed through the side of the hull, which was not protected by the main armor belt. These three hits caused significant flooding and caused an 8 degree list to starboard. The forward and rear gun turrets were temporarily disabled, along with half of her anti-aircraft battery. Two men were killed and fifteen were injured in the attack. Damage control teams managed to correct the list with counter-flooding, and although draft increased by 1 m (3.3 ft), Scharnhorst was able to leave for Brest at 19:30. On the morning of 25 July, one of the escorting destroyers shot down a British patrol plane. The ship reached Brest later that day and went into dry dock for repairs, which took 4 months. While the damage was being repaired, a new radar system was installed aft, the power output for the forward radar was increased to 100 kW, and the 53.3 cm torpedo tubes were installed.

The strategic position following the damage to Scharnhorst was serious. Gneisenau was still being repaired following torpedo damage on 6 April and bomb damage on 9–10 April. The Prinz Eugen had been seriously damaged by a bomb on 1 July. Bismarck had been sunk on 27 May. All German capital ships deployed to the Atlantic were therefore out of action.

Operation Cerberus

On 12 January 1942, the German Naval Command, in a conference with Hitler, made the decision to return Scharnhorst, Gneisenau, and the heavy cruiser Prinz Eugen to Germany. The intention was to deploy the vessels to Norway to interdict Allied convoys to the Soviet Union. The so-called "Channel Dash", codenamed Operation Cerberus, would avoid the increasingly effective Allied radar and patrol aircraft in the Atlantic. Vice Admiral Otto Ciliax, Scharnhorst's first commander, was given command of the operation. In early February, minesweepers swept a route through the English Channel undetected by the British.

At 23:00 on 11 February, Scharnhorst, Gneisenau, and Prinz Eugen left Brest. They entered the Channel an hour later; the three ships sped at 27 knots (50 km/h; 31 mph), hugging the French coast along the voyage. The British failed to detect their departure, as the submarine that had been tasked with observing the port had withdrawn to recharge its batteries. By 06:30, they had passed Cherbourg, at which point they were joined by a flotilla of torpedo boats. The torpedo boats were led by Kapitän Erich Bey, aboard the destroyer Z29. General der Jagdflieger (General of Fighter Force) Adolf Galland directed Luftwaffe fighter and bomber forces (Operation Donnerkeil) during Cerberus. The fighters flew at masthead-height to avoid detection by the British radar network. Liaison officers were present on all three ships. German aircraft arrived later to jam British radar with chaff. By 13:00, the ships had cleared the Strait of Dover half an hour later, a flight of six Swordfish torpedo bombers, with Spitfire escort, attacked the Germans. The British failed to penetrate the Luftwaffe fighter shield, and all six Swordfish were destroyed.

Scharnhorst did not make the voyage unscathed, however; at 15:31 she struck an air-dropped magnetic mine in the mouth of the Scheldt, abreast of the forward superfiring turret. The blast damaged the ship's circuit breakers and knocked out her electrical system for 20 minutes. The explosive shock caused serious damage; turret Bruno was jammed, as were the twin and single 15 cm mounts on the port side. The blast also damaged the fuel oil pumps and the bearings in the turbo-generators, which brought the ship to a halt. The power outage disabled the emergency shut-off switches to the boilers and turbines, which could not be turned off until power was restored. The explosion tore a large gash in the side of the hull and allowed 1,220 t (1,200 long tons; 1,340 short tons) of water into the ship, flooding 30 watertight spaces within five main watertight compartments. Scharnhorst took on a list of one degree and was down by the bows by a meter.

While the ship was immobilized, Admiral Ciliax transferred to Z29. The engine room crews managed to restart the first turbine at 15:49, nearly twenty minutes after the mine explosion. The second and third turbines were restarted at 15:55 and 16:01, respectively, which permitted a speed of 27 knots (50 km/h; 31 mph). At around the time the last turbine was restarted, a single bomber dropped several bombs approximately 90 m (98 yd) off Scharnhorst's port side, which caused no damage. Once the ship was back under way, twelve Beauforts launched a 10-minute attack that was beaten off by anti-aircraft fire and the escorting Luftwaffe fighters. The British carried out a series of attacks that were all unsuccessful; Scharnhorst's anti-aircraft guns were red-hot by the end of the action, and one 20 mm gun had burst from the strain.

The ship struck another mine off Terschelling on the starboard side at 22:34. The mine briefly knocked out the power system and temporarily disabled the rudders. Two of the three turbines were jammed, and the third had to be turned off. Another 300 t (300 long tons; 330 short tons) tons of water flooded ten watertight spaces in four main compartments. Only the centerline shaft was operational, which permitted a speed of only 10 knots (19 km/h; 12 mph). Partial power was eventually restored to the starboard turbine, which allowed speed to be increased to 14 knots (26 km/h; 16 mph). The shock damaged the rotating parts of all of the ship's gun turrets, and three of the 15 cm turrets were seriously jammed. By 08:00, Scharnhorst had reached the Jade Bight but ice prevented the ship from entering Wilhelmshaven. While waiting outside the port, Admiral Ciliax returned to the ship. The ice had been cleared by noon, permitting Scharnhorst's entrance to Wilhelmshaven. Two days later, Scharnhorst went to Kiel for permanent repairs. Work was conducted in a floating dry dock and lasted until July 1942. Afterward, another round of trials were conducted in the Baltic, which revealed the necessity of replacing several of the boiler tubes.

Deployment to Norway

In early August 1942, Scharnhorst conducted exercises in cooperation with several U-boats. During the maneuvers, she collided with the German submarine U-523, which caused damage that necessitated dry-docking for repairs. Work was completed by September, and the ship conducted further training in the Baltic. Scharnhorst steamed to Gotenhafen in late October for a new rudder, the design of which was based on the lessons learned from the torpedoing of Prinz Eugen and Lützow earlier in the year. Boiler and turbine troubles kept the ship in Germany for the remainder of 1942. By December, only two of the three shafts were operational and a complete overhaul of the propulsion system was required. In early January 1943, the ship was back in service, and after trials, left Germany on 7 January in company with Prinz Eugen and five destroyers. Reports of heavy activity in British airfields near the coast prompted the force to return to port, however. Another attempt to reach Norway was canceled under similar circumstances. On 8 March, however, poor weather grounded the British bombers, and so Scharnhorst and four destroyers were able to make the journey to Norway. A severe storm off Bergen forced the destroyers to seek shelter but Scharnhorst was able to continue on at the reduced speed of 17 knots (31 km/h; 20 mph). At 16:00 on 14 March, Scharnhorst dropped anchor in Bogen Bay outside Narvik. There she met Lützow and the battleship Tirpitz.

On 22 March, Scharnhorst, Tirpitz, and Lützow steamed to Altafjord for repairs to damage incurred in heavy storms. In early April, Scharnhorst, Tirpitz, and nine destroyers conducted a training mission to Bear Island in the Arctic Ocean. On the 8th, a serious internal explosion occurred in the aft auxiliary machinery space above the armor deck. The explosion killed or injured 34 men and prompted the crew to flood the magazines for turret Caesar as a precaution against a magazine explosion. A repair ship completed work on the vessel in two weeks. Fuel shortages prevented major operations for the next six months, during which Scharnhorst was able to conduct only short training maneuvers.

Scharnhorst, Tirpitz, and nine destroyers embarked from Altafjord on an offensive on 6 September known as Operation Zitronella; the ships were tasked with bombarding the island of Spitzbergen. During the operation, Scharnhorst destroyed a battery of two 76 mm (3.0 in) guns and shelled fuel tanks, coal mines, harbor facilities, and military installations. Of particular importance was the weather station that was transmitting weather information to the Allies, which was used to schedule convoys to the Soviet Union. The destroyers landed some 1,000 troops, which pushed the Norwegian garrison into the mountains, completing the mission without major loss. On 22 September, a pair of British X-craft mini-submarines attacked and seriously damaged Tirpitz, which reduced the Arctic Task Force to Scharnhorst and her five escorting destroyers.

On 25 November 1943 Scharnhorst carried out a two-hour full power trial achieving 29.6 knots (54.8 km/h; 34.1 mph) and it was noted that her draught had increased by over .5 metres (1.6 ft) from her 1940 trials where she had attained 31.14 knots (57.67 km/h; 35.84 mph).

Battle of the North Cape

With the rapidly deteriorating military situation for the German Army on the Eastern Front, it became increasingly important to interrupt the flow of supplies from the Western Allies to the Soviet Union. By December 1943, the German Army was forced into continuous retreat. The Luftwaffe had been seriously weakened by four long years of war, and increasing Allied anti-submarine capabilities were steadily degrading the effectiveness of the U-boats. The only effective weapon at the disposal of the Germans in Norway was Scharnhorst—Tirpitz was badly damaged, and the four remaining heavy cruisers were committed to the Baltic. During a conference with Hitler on 19–20 December, Großadmiral Karl Dönitz decided to employ Scharnhorst against the next Allied convoy that presented itself. Erich Bey, by now promoted to Konteradmiral, was given command of the task force.

On 22 December Dönitz ordered Bey to be ready to go to sea on a three-hour notice. Later that day, reconnaissance aircraft located a convoy of some 20 transports escorted by cruisers and destroyers approximately 400 nautical miles (740 kilometres; 460 miles) west of Tromsø. The convoy was spotted again two days later, and it was determined that the course was definitively toward the Soviet Union. A U-boat reported the convoy's location at 09:00 on 25 December, and Dönitz ordered Scharnhorst into action. In his instructions to Bey, Dönitz advised him to break off the engagement if presented with superior forces, but to remain aggressive. Bey planned to attack the convoy at 10:00 on 26 December if the conditions were favorable for the attack. At this time of year, there was only 45 minutes of full daylight and six hours of twilight, which significantly limited Bey's operational freedom. The Germans were concerned with developments in Allied radar-directed fire control, which allowed British battleships to fire with great accuracy in the darkness; German radar capabilities lagged behind those of their opponents.

Scharnhorst and her five destroyers left port at around 19:00 and were in the open sea four hours later. At 03:19, Bey received instructions from the Fleet Command that Scharnhorst was to conduct the attack alone if heavy seas interfered with the destroyers' ability to fight. Unbeknown to the Germans, the British were reading the radio transmissions between Scharnhorst and the Fleet Command; Admirals Robert Burnett and Bruce Fraser were aware of Bey's plan for the attack on the convoy and could position their forces accordingly. At 07:03, Scharnhorst was some 40 nautical miles (74 kilometres; 46 miles) southwest of Bear Island when she made a turn that would put her in position to attack the convoy at 10:00. Admiral Burnett, commanding the three cruisers Norfolk, Belfast, and Sheffield escorting Convoy JW 55B, placed his ships between the convoy and Scharnhorst's expected direction of attack. Fraser in the powerful battleship Duke of York, along with the cruiser Jamaica and four destroyers, moved to a position southwest of Scharnhorst to block a possible escape attempt.

An hour after making the turn, Bey deployed his destroyers in a line screening Scharnhorst, which remained 10 nmi (19 km; 12 mi) behind. Half an hour later, Scharnhorst's loudspeakers called the crew to battle stations in preparation for the attack. At 08:40, Belfast picked up Scharnhorst on her radar. The Germans were unaware that they had been detected, and they had turned off their radar to prevent the British from picking up on the signals. At 09:21, Belfast's lookouts spotted Scharnhorst at a range of 11,000 m (12,000 yd). The cruiser opened fire three minutes later, followed by Norfolk two minutes after. Scharnhorst fired a salvo from turret Caesar before turning and increasing speed to disengage from the cruisers. The battleship was hit twice by 20.3 cm (8 in) shells; the first failed to explode and caused negligible damage, but the second struck the forward rangefinders and destroyed the radar antenna. The aft radar, which possessed only a limited forward arc, was the ship's only remaining radar capability.

Scharnhorst turned south and attempted to work around the cruisers, but the superior British radar prevented Bey from successfully carrying out the maneuver. By 12:00, Scharnhorst was to the northeast of the convoy, but Belfast had reestablished radar contact; it took the cruisers twenty minutes to close the range and begin firing. Scharnhorst detected the cruisers with her aft radar and opened fire with her main battery guns before turning away to disengage a second time. Shortly before 12:25, Scharnhorst hit Norfolk twice with 28 cm shells. The first shell hit the forward superstructure and disabled Norfolk's gunnery radar. The second 28 cm round struck the ship's "X" barbette and disabled the turret. Scharnhorst then turned again and increased speed, in the hopes of escaping the cruisers and finding the convoy. Burnett chose to keep his distance and shadow Scharnhorst with radar while Fraser made his way to the scene in Duke of York. Meanwhile, the five German destroyers continued searching for the convoy without success. At 13:15, Bey decided to return to base, and at 13:43, he dismissed the destroyers and instructed them to return to port.

At 16:17, Duke of York made radar contact with Scharnhorst; thirty minutes later, Belfast illuminated the German battleship with star shells. At 16:50, Duke of York opened fire at a range of 11,000 m (12,000 yd); Scharnhorst quickly returned the fire. Five minutes after opening fire, one of Duke of York's 14 in (35.6 cm) shells struck Scharnhorst abreast of her forward gun turret. The shell hit jammed the turret's training gears, putting it out of action. Shell splinters started a fire in the ammunition magazine, which forced the Germans to flood both forward magazines to prevent an explosion. The water was quickly drained from turret Bruno's magazine. The ship was now fighting with only two-thirds of her main battery. Shortly thereafter, another 14 inch shell struck the ventilation trunk attached to Bruno, which caused the turret to be flooded with noxious propellant gases every time the breeches were opened. A third shell hit the deck next to turret Caesar and caused some flooding; shell splinters caused significant casualties. At 17:30, shells struck the forward 15 cm gun turrets and destroyed them both.

At around 18:00, another 14 in shell struck the ship on the starboard side, passed through the thin upper belt armor, and exploded in the number 1 boiler room. It caused significant damage to the ship's propulsion system and slowed the ship to 8 knots (15 km/h; 9.2 mph). Temporary repairs allowed Scharnhorst to return to 22 knots (41 km/h; 25 mph). She managed to add 5,000 m (5,500 yd) to the distance between her and Duke of York, while straddling the ship with several salvos. Shell splinters rained on Duke of York and disabled the fire-control radar.

"Gentlemen, the battle against the Scharnhorst has ended in victory for us. I hope that any of you who are ever called upon to lead a ship into action against an opponent many times superior, will command your ship as gallantly as the Scharnhorst was commanded today."

-Admiral Bruce Fraser

At 18:42, Duke of York ceased fire, after having fired 52 salvos and having scored at least 13 hits, but Scharnhorst was pulling away. Many of these hits had badly damaged the ship's secondary armament, which left her open to destroyer attacks, which Fraser ordered. The destroyers Scorpion and HNoMS Stord launched a total of eight torpedoes at 18:50, four of which hit. One torpedo exploded abreast of turret Bruno, which caused it to jam. The second torpedo hit the ship on the port side and caused some minor flooding, and the third struck toward the rear of the ship and damaged the port propeller shaft. The fourth hit the ship in the bow. The torpedoes slowed Scharnhorst to 12 knots (22 km/h; 14 mph), which allowed Duke of York to close to 9,100 m (10,000 yd). With only turret Caesar operational, all available men were sent to retrieve ammunition from the forward turrets to keep the last heavy guns supplied. Fraser then ordered Jamaica and Belfast to move into range and finish the crippled ship off with torpedoes. After several more torpedo hits, Scharnhorst settled further into the water and began to list to starboard. At 19:45, the ship went down by the bow, with her propellers still slowly turning. British ships began searching for survivors, but were soon ordered away after just a few were pulled out of the water even though voices could still be heard calling for help from the darkness. Of the crew of 1,968 officers and enlisted men, only 36 men survived.

[airmanisr]

de Havilland DH98 Mosquito FB.VI ‘TA122 / UP-G’ by Alan Wilson Via Flickr: Built 1945. Carrying the markings of 605sqn RAF. This view shows the starboard nacelle and undercarriage. Some great detail for the modellers here! Withdrawn from service and became an instructional airframe at Delft Univesity, Holland from 1951 to 1970. After seven years in the RNthAF museum, it came to Salisbury Hall. The airframe was then restored using the mainplane from Sea Mosquito TR.33 ‘TW233’, which was recovered from Israel in 1980. Now under final restoration in the Main Hangar at the de Havilland Aircraft Museum, Salisbury Hall, London Colney, UK. 22-3-2015

[sw5w]

Now This is Podracing!

STAR WARS EPISODE I: The Phantom Menace 02:03:11

[travellianna]

Antarctica aboard the Ocean Adventurer... and yes there were a lot of penguins!

We made this unforgettable adventure by booking with Expedition Trips who then organised everything with Quark Expeditions. They were all amazing from start to end of the journey, and we would highly recommend them! People of all ages were on the trip, with the eldest woman at 97 years so it’s never too late.

My number one tip is to pack layers and pack less than you think you wil need because the weight limit on the slightly old and wobbly looking jet plane is 15kg per person! The coldest it got was -3C and maybe a little lower with the wind chill. Waterproof clothing is a must, not because of rain but because of the spray while on the zodiacs. It’s a good idea to take along some books as there is quite a bit of waiting time. If you get seasick, then motion sickness pills are also a good idea. Remember you are very far from any medical care so bring essential medicines.

You should try your best to go into the trip with the mindset that you will have to adapt to the weather conditions and Mother Nature is unpredictable. There is not point in getting mad or impatient (though some people spent a lot of energy complaining), because the company and crew are doing their best to get you safely on your way to an unforgettable voyage. The anticipation is great for whether your plane can take off... but when you are on the way it is an exhilarating feeling!

An alternate to the fly and cruise is cruising from Ushuaia, Argentina but be warned that the waters between there and Antarctica are very rough and it takes a lot longer to reach Antarctica.

The beautiful scenery was striking with blue-white icebergs and glaciers in all directions, pristine snowy mountains, penguins, seals, whales and an absence of most vegetation. We saw only one other boat with two people on it, and a few people at each research station, otherwise it was just our cruise ship of 130 passengers plus crew. There is peace and quiet, and being on deck early in the morning felt like an isolated encounter with grand nature all around.

The trip diary:

Our offical arrival day was 15th December though we were there a day early and I’d come straight from Torres del Paine.

15th December - Another day to explore Punta Arenas, the departure city for our Antarctic adventure with Quark Expeditions. We had to get our bags weighed by Quark adventures and pick up our heavy arctic parkas and waterproof boots. The parkas were bright yellow and very warm, and ours to keep! Our main activity of the day was a tour of the Austral Brewery, which was interesting, especially trying 7 different beers at the end. The La Patagonia brewery was started by a German man Jose Fischer and when he died it was passed to his son. His son committed suicide so then the family gave up the business and it was renamed Austral. All of the beers were quite good and I especially liked the Imperial lager and the Calafate ale, which was fruity.

We caught a Taxi to the hotel and arrived just in time for the 18h briefing meeting. We were briefed on the procedures like entering and exiting the zodiac rafts, timing and weather, and the Antarctic treaty and regulations. There were 4 cm of snow on the runway at King George island and the weather for the morning didn’t look favourable so our flight would be delayed. We were to check back after dinner for the timing update. We checked the update after dinner and it said we would have breakfast as normal, lunch at 11h30 check out at noon, depart at 12h30 and attempt to fly at 15h. The excitement and anticipation could be felt in the room and it was hard to sleep.

16th December - Woke up at 8h and got ready but we had some time until the update meeting at 10h, and only about half of the people turned up since they had already announced we would not leave before 15h. The staff announced that we would not be able to fly at 15h. A group that had been waiting for two days due to bad weather already had priority and one flight was in the air with a second planned for mid-afternoon. Normally there would be two planes but two of the three planes owned by the charter company clipped wings in the hangar and were damaged. One had damage to the wing and another to the structure so they were trying to repair the wing damage. Bad luck! A waiting game untl the next update scheduled for 15h.

While we were stuck waiting, Quark arranged meals and if people would be stuck overnight then they arrange accommodation. It must be a nightmare to handle the ever-changing logistics! Many people were complaining but...no one can predict the weather and it’s unfortunate that the planes clipped each other but it was out of our control.

We rested in the lobby since we no longer had rooms, and at 15h we went up to see the update. Good news is we were cleared for takeoff and group one would meet in the lobby at 17h45 for 18h30 departure to the airport. Our flight would depart at 21h and land on King George island at 23h. The second group would depart at 3h and land at 5h tomorrow morning so they will get to have a beautiful view but after a tough long wait into the night.

Excited to get to Antarctica even if it’s 12 hours later than planned! We were in the lobby and boarded coaches at 18h30 to the airport. A separate truck carried our luggage and we checked that in at Punta Arenas airport. We were on an Antarctic Air charter flight and departed around 21h15 so 15 minutes later than planned. We got a cold dinner of sandwiches, yoghurt, fruit cocktail and an alfajore (addictive biscuits/cookies filled with dulce de leche/caramel). The flight went quickly and everyone queued up to use the loo since they announced that there would be no loos until we reached the ship. We then had to get into waterproof pants and boots. It was difficult especially for the older people to have to bend in the small spaces. We landed by 23h30 and then walked 1.4km to the zodiac launch station. When we got out of the plane it reminded me of Iceland with rocks and snow. Beautiful! We couldn’t take photos because the landing strip is on a Chilean air base. We took a zodiac to the ship Ocean adventurer. We did a water entrance so the boots were useful. It was very calm water and no wind so the zodiac ride was peaceful. The oldest passenger on the boat was 97 years old and this was her bucket list trip- good inspiration to keep on living!  We got into the boat via steep stairs and then checked in to our cabin 227 with two narrow twin beds, a starboard window, big double closet and a bathroom. Not so bad for an adventure cruise!

17th December - The second group arrived around 6h and the expedition lead Alison (Ali) announced that breakfast would be from 6h30 until 8h30 and then a mandatory meeting at 10h. We went back to sleep until 7h20. It felt a bit like camp with loudspeaker announcements. But it was much better than camp because looking out of the porthole at any time of the day promised stunning icy scenery in the 23 hours of daylight. We had a briefing and safety meeting at 10h and the expedition team introduced themselves. The ship Dr said the three most common problems are flu, bruises and seasickness. We are far away from any medical care so health insurance can be very expensive especially for the elderly....

We went back to our cabin and prepared for the abandon ship drill, a requirement. That went pretty quickly, though a few people went to the wrong place. The view of Greenwich island, part of the south Shetland islands, was beautiful. We passed a giant glacier and some penguins jumping out of the water on the side of the boat. The jumping is called porpoising - imagine mini dolphins jumping out of the water. Penguins are much more graceful and speedy in the water than on land. Amazing!

We went out on a cruise in the zodiac to see a giant iceberg and there were some penguins sitting on it and jumping off, gentoo and chinstrap penguins. The scenery was stunning with rocks, glaciers and the sea. Then we landed on the rocky beach of Point Fort and walked around to see penguins. One friendly chinstrap penguin, who the guide said they’ve named Charlie, came over to check us out. Many penguins were sitting on their nests as it was just a little early for the main hatching time. Ali the expedition leader introduced some of the staff specialists who gave short lectures on topics like whales and glaciers. Then she explained the upcoming weather conditions and plans for the next day. The plans are always changing depending on the weather and the ice, which can make some passages unpassable. The plan was to go through the Lemaire channel and get to Petermann island then visit Jougla and Goudier islands. We had dinner right after the presentations. I had antipasti salad, red snapper and ginger crème brûlée plus a scoop of coffee ice cream. The food is really delicious on board and we had not at all expected the gourmet dining and excellent service, so it felt like a real luxury.

18 December- We woke up at 6h30 and dressed warmly to go outside and look at the views of the Lemaire channel. It was a stunning clear day and we could see beautiful snow covered mountains and lots of ice. There were penguins swimming and jumping out of the water. We saw a fat weddell seal sunning itself on an iceberg. The captain broke through some ice and we made it partially through the channel but then the ice was too dense so we turned around and went back. Instead we went to Hidden bay for some zodiac cruising.Our driver Jens went very fast so it was fun but very cold! We heard the cracking of moving icebergs but didn’t see any calves. We got back to the ship and had a rest in the cabin until 15h. Sophie from the British antarctic heritage trust at Fort Lockroy came on board to give a short talk. There are 4 women in the team that stay here for 4 months from Nov til March. They run the British post office and museum there, and maintain the site. They have no running water so usually take showers and get fresh food from the passing ships. Tough life! We took the zodiac to Goudier island and visited Fort Lockroy museum and post office. The museum is a restored British research hut from the 1950s and still has canned food from back then including beans and Branston pickle! Our postcards were sent from the post office and it cost $1 to send one anywhere in the world. I walked to see more penguins but the snow was very deep so it was difficult. The lady there told us to try to fill in any deep holes because penguins can fall in to these post holes, get stuck and die. They make a lot of funny sounds, and they steal pebbles from each other’s nests. Very amusing to watch their natural behaviour. People on the cruise were very helpful in general and assisted the more elderly passengers since the zodiacs landed on rock, ice, or sand without any docks. We took a zodiac to the next island Jougla. It was a tough landing with a big step and slippery ice and rocks, then deep snow. It was quite a feeling of awe to make the first footprints in the fresh snow. I walked to see some old whale bones and penguins and cormorants on the rocks. The penguins use their little highways to go between rocks and to the water.

When we got back to the ship, it was time for the pre dinner cocktail with the captain. We got to see him and the main crew. They do an incredible job to take us to these remote places and navigate the ice. For dinner, I had seafood cioppino, prime rib with Yorkshire pudding and baked potato, and a beautiful French opera cake. Two of the expedition team sat with us. Jason from Arizona is a crevasse and ice expert. His job would be to scout the path for tomorrow’s walk to a viewpoint at Neko harbour. Acacia is the photographer and made the photo journal for the trip. She’s from Alaska, works the Arctic season too and spends free time often in Scandinavia. She must like the cold weather!

19 December- We woke up at 6h50 to get ready for breakfast at 7h30. The ship had already anchored in the bay for the landings on the Antarctic continent at Neko Harbour in Andword bay. Until then we had made landings in Antarctica but on various islands. The continent was the big bucket list goal for many of the people on the ship.

There was a rotation of group orders, although many people cheated and jumped on the first boat. My British training makes me follow the queue system out of a sense of duty! This time, we were luckily in the first group of zodiacs to the Neko Harbour Landing. We had to exit the zodiacs quickly because the glaciers can calve (break off into icebergs) and cause sudden waves. The scenery around was beautiful with mountains, glaciers, snow and icebergs. The snow was falling slowly. We took a photo with the Antarctic continental flag since it was our first time on the continent and not an Antarctic island. I took the steep path up the hill to the viewpoint and it was tough but worth it. The glaciers have lots of crevasses and a bright blue colour due to the light reflection. They’re also very active and pieces crack off/calve quite often. I was hot and sweaty by the top of the hill and took off my jacked to just (literally) chill out and enjoy the view until it was time to go down. The snow was deep and slushy. We took a zodiac cruise with Tom, the marine biologist. His specialty is whales and he spotted a minke whale and we saw it briefly breach then it went under never to be seen again. We then went to see a close-up of a Weddell seal and a penguin sitting together on an iceberg. Leopard seals are a penguin predator but Weddell seals are friends. It was fun riding and crunching over small icebergs in the zodiac. We went back to the ship and warmed up with some tea. Then it was time for lunch and the polar plunge. I watched a few people jump in but I decided that was one once in a lifetime opportunity that I could miss out on.

We passed via the Arera channel. We cruised with Cam in a zodiac for an hour and saw a seal, lots of gentoo penguins and a sailboat with an Austrian couple who came out to say hello. We chatted with them and they’d been sailing continuously for 8 years mainly with each other for company. They had just reached the Antarctic via the Drake passage a week ago. Impressive!

We saw a lot of huge glaciers and they were very blue and beautiful, and shaped by the movement of the water. Then it was our turn to visit Cuverville island. We landed and hopped from the water up onto the snow. I went up a small hill and the view of the penguins and icebergs was stunning! I could also see the sailboat. Then I walked the other way to see more penguin colonies. They’re so noisy and smelly, but also very cute! They have well established penguin highways from the water to their nests and some of them climb up a big hill. They have their nests high on the hills because that’s where the snow clears first. Sometimes the penguins decided to use our walkways and even laid on their bellies for awhile, so we had to wait until they moved since they always have the right of way. The day went by so quickly! Tom gave a short talk on seals then Acacia gave a short talk on photography. A passenger named Casey, who has been on the show Bachelorette, gave a talk about his project which was to travel to all 7 continents using commercial airlines in a world record time. He has a website 7 in 72 and has set the Guiness book of world records. He also applied for a drone permit and took some amazing drone footage especially the bird’s eye views of the areas. Ali gave us an update on the weather and plan for tomorrow which included Deception Bay, an active volcano, and a Polish research station on an island which has Adelie penguins.

We went straight outside for an outdoor BBQ dinner. It was cold but the scenery was stunning around us and the sun came out just then. There was so much food and mulled wine. I had a burger, salad, seafood skewer, rice, beans, corn on the cob, curry vegetables, chocolate brownie and bread and butter pudding. Each day is so full of amazement that it is tiring in a good way.

20 December- We woke up at 5h and it was tough to get up but we got dressed and went outside in the rain to see the narrow entrance (bellows) of Deception Island. It is an active volcano and we sailed into it to land at Whalers’ bay. We got out on the zodiacs around 7h30 and walked around the old whaling station. There are a lot of old decrepit buildings including a World War 2 hangar. The wind picked up quickly and the rain was icy. I was on one of the last two zodiacs and they packed it with 15 people (normally we had 10) to hurry back to the boat. The wind was blowing at 70 knots! We missed the landing ramp the first time and had to go back a second time. I was soaked and had to hang everything up. The boat was rocking a lot as we sped along to Arctowski station on king george island to see the Adelie penguins. Then at 11h we went to listen to Paola’s talk about penguins and other animals too. Antarctic toothfish are also known as Chilean sea bass. They are part of the food chain and are eaten by seals and fished (overfished) for humans.

Sometimes the penguins present gifts of stones and food to their partners. They also steal stones from each other’s nests. If a penguin partner doesn’t return with food then the other parent will have to abandon the egg to eat. Survival strategies in the harshest of climates. Intriguing facts!

We went back to the room briefly then went to the lounge to hear the disembarkation process. The airline uses the IFIS website for the weather and SCRM is the Chilean Air base on King George island. We planned to leave in the morning on the plane that brings the next passengers but it depends on cloud cover and the weather.

We landed at the black sand beach and disembarked at Arctowski Polish research station. We could see an Adelie penguin colony on the rocks and with the zoom and binoculars we could see a few penguin chicks. So cute, grey and fluffy! We also saw a lot of penguins on the beach and in the water. There were chinstrap and gentoo penguins around so all three species we had seen during this trip. We saw some whale bones which look very artistic with some of the only green algae visible in the mostly barren rocky areas.

We went back to the ship and the seas were very rough and rocking the boat a lot. It was difficult for people to walk. It was our last dinner on board and we had delicious food and excellent service as we had at every meal. The head of the service crew introduced everyone as they marched in to Despacito. Wow can’t believe it’s already the end of the Antarctic holiday adventure!

21 December- The alarm went off at 5h30 and it was very early! We got dressed and finished packing our checked in luggage. We had to put it outside by 6h. I picked up the China Great Wall station mobile signal briefly and a text came through but no WiFi until Punta Arenas. It was nice to be disconnected for a week. We had to get our carryons and move out of the cabins so we sat up in the main lounge with everyone else. At around 10h the first flight got called to board the zodiacs and go to shore. Then around 10h30 we got called to board the zodiacs and head to shore. Last zodiac ride was fun with Jens driving. We had to wait outside in the cold and wind for nearly 2 hours until we could board the plane and get in the air. As soon as the seatbelt sign went off everyone got up to use the toilets. Neither of the two toilets was flushing so that was kind of gross. The plane in general was a bit dirty cuz they do such quick turn around. We were just hoping that they actually checked maintenance enough.... The flight was only two hours so pretty quick. We got to Dreams Hotel in Punta Arenas and checked in then relaxed in the room until dinnertime with a nice seafood soup at Los Ganaderos.

22 December- We had a day in Punta Arenas as a buffer in case the flight back from Antarctica was delayed. We did some souvenir shopping and then I walked to see the cemetery and pick up some empanadas from Roca Mar for a midnight snack. We ate lunch at Le mercadito in the municipal market again.

23 December - We checked out around midnight and the Taxi came at 00h30 to drop us at Punta Arenas airport. When we went to drop luggage the lady asked if we wanted to take an earlier flight to Santiago at 1h26 so we said sure. We waited for awhile there then had another flight Lima and then finally on the way back to Los Angeles.

[blizzweirdo]

No Omen, No Country’s Cause Ch. 6

All right! So now we’re back from our flashback just in time to see the Umojan Navy rally to help the new Terran Republic and Tarsonis against the UED and Stukov’s forces. However, something’s not quite right, and the Umojan Navy must learn the truth behind Stukov’s actions.

As always, this chapter is also available on FanFiction.net, Archive of Our Own, and Wattpad.

If you submitted a name, look for it in this chapter! I think I added four or five from both public and private submissions. Thanks for your help!

Also, I lied... It’s not that late. Welcome to the longest chapter thus far.

NOVA LISBOA, UMOJA 16:42 UCST (10:42 DCST)

     On stage, Figaro had just learned the court's plan for his wife Susanna and was beginning the first lines of "Se Voul Ballare." It was the first act of Il Nozze de Figaro and the first production of it at the Pasteur Opera House since the End War. Admiral Renata Marín was pleased to be there, having begged box-seat tickets off her commanding officer, Fleet Admiral Thierry Augustin, a donor. Her partner, Lieutenant General Wynand Vermaak, was less than enthusiastic and already nodding off to sleep. She should have known better than to bring him here; Marín knew he wouldn't enjoy it. It had been enough of a battle to get him into a suit, and he still chose to wear his motorcycle boots with it. She had to admit that she was more comfortable in the grey and teal of the Umojan Protectorate Navy's uniforms than in a black formal dress and heels, but she prided herself on her ability to adapt—and she had fell in love with opera in the academy. She and Vermaak had known each other since then, and she had changed a lot over the years. But he had not. He was still the same steady, dependable if slightly incorrigible, self. His cleanly-shaven head bobbed again, and then he was asleep, snoring quietly. Thank god this is a private box, she thought.

     An usher appeared at the door, asked her for her name, and then handed her a datapad. She looked at him quizzically, but he just shrugged. Taking it in her hand, she stood and moved to the corner of the box so that the other opera patrons would not be bothered by the bright screen. On it was a message to her: "LARGE SCALE ATTACK ON TARSONIS IMMINENT. THIS IS NOT A DRILL. ADM. MARÍN AND LT. GEN. VERMAAK OF CORE FLEET RENDEZVOUS IMMEDIATELY WITH FLEET ADM. AUGUSTIN OF EDGE FLEET AND AWAIT FURTHER INSTRUCTIONS." For a few seconds, Marín stood there, stunned. She refreshed the datapad, making sure she hadn't misread it or that it was a mistake. She walked to Vermaak and shook him awake. Vermaak turned to her sleepily.

     "Oh, was I sleeping?"

     "Get up."

     "Don't be angry... You know I don't like this. I'm not bothering anyone. We don't have to..."

     "No, Wynand. We have to go." She pressed the datapad into his ruddy, calloused hands. He read it dazedly, his grey eyes hardening as he comprehended what it said. Without a word, both of them exited into the atrium of the opera house. Through the atrium's three-story tall windows, Marín watched as a shuttle landed in the abstract sculpture garden outside. The scream of its engines reverberated through the atrium and into the concert hall. Men and women in formal wear began trickling out of the hall, concern registering on their faces as they checked their own electronic devices. Marín picked up her skirt and sprinted down the stairs as the shuttle touched down, her heels loudly clicking on the marble floor. Vermaak was close behind her. It was one of the UPN Uhuru's shuttles. That's our ride.

     The glass doors moved aside for them as they exited the garden. They both stood next to the shuttle as it hovered close to the ground, blasting air at both of them. Marín was glad she already had a hold on her skirt, but couldn't control her long, black hair. Vermaak looked nonplussed. Now there's an advantage of being bald. The shuttle door opened, and the navigator yelled at her over the din.

     "This shuttle is just for you, Admiral. There's another shuttle from the Liberté circling to pick up Vermaak. Gen. Oyaleni wants to speak with him before the rendezvous."

     Marín turned to Vermaak and lightly touched his arm, mouthing a kiss to him. He smiled faintly and nodded to her. She boarded the shuttle and strapped herself in as the hatch closed. It would a dangerous mission—possibly the start of a war. But she felt herself strangely relieved to be alone and away from Vermaak. Maybe they had been spending too much time together.

     "We're ten minutes out, ma'am," the pilot said as she settled into a seat in the back.

     "Good, because if what my orders said are true, we need to be at the rendezvous now." Wasting no time, the pilot took off; in minutes they were already climbing high above the city.

     "Do you know who is attacking?" Marín yelled over the sound of the shuttle's takeoff thrusters.

     "No, Admiral. I can turn on the news if you like," the navigator said.

     "Whatever they say is probably wrong at this point... I'll wait."

     "Yes, ma'am."

     Marín watched as Umoja's horizon curved then disappeared through the forward viewport, replaced by the blackness of space. The shuttle turned sharply upwards and to its starboard. The Uhuru gleamed in the distance, parked above Umoja's planetary defense platform. The shuttle's main engines spun up, and it lurched towards the Uhuru. As the Uhuru grew larger, her thoughts turned to who could be attacking Tarsonis. The zerg were the most likely culprit, but Zagara had professed peace so an attack would be out of character. Is it the Kel-Morians making a play for the Terran Republic's territory while it's vulnerable? Nothing quite made sense.

     The Uhuru's port hangar yawned before the shuttle as it glided inside and set down. Her XO, Commander Anders Ahlberg, was waiting for her as she stepped off the shuttle. Marín removed her heels as she walked across the flight deck. They were just going to slow her down. Ahlberg matched her stride and handed her a datapad.

     "Is this the briefing, Ahlberg?"

     "Yes, Admiral,"

     "Can you give me the highlights?" Marín said, impatiently thumbing through it.

     "Oh, you're not going to believe this. Earth is back."

     "What? Earth?"

     "A UED fleet dropped out of FTL above Tarsonis... They ordered their surrender, and of course they didn't take that well..."

     "I'd imagine not..."

     "And so they've started an invasion. They've sicced the zerg on them—and the infested."

     "Infested? How?"

     "Vice Admiral Stukov? Ring any bells? UED guy... He's been hiding out here since their first invasion. Never heard of him, but they've got a dossier on him in there. Hadn't had a chance to look at it."

     "All right. Thanks... I'm going to the bridge, but I need you here. I want all of our banshees, liberators, dropships—everything—ready by the rendezvous. Tell the bridge I'm on the way up."

     "Yes, ma'am!" Ahlberg turned on his heel and jogged back inside the hangar. It would be quite a job for him and take time. Marín commanded fifty ships in the core side fleet which protected the Umojan Protectorate's territory towards the galactic core. There were twice as many marine detachments. She hoped that Vermaak had radioed ahead to them. Marín continued towards the door. As it door opened, her chief engineer, Dani Jansa, stepped through. As usual, her coveralls and elaborate blonde braids were coated in grime.

     "Lookin' good, Admiral," she said playfully.

     "And you look like you got dragged behind a dropship."

     "That's pretty much what happened!" Both of them continued on, their jobs elsewhere. Hopefully they could sit down to a drink at some point, as they both kept swearing they were going to do. Camaraderie among her crew was important, but she had been setting a bad example as of late. It was something she needed to amend. But that's not happening soon. As the lift rose towards the bridge, Marín read through the reports. Most of it seemed like standard UED tactics if on an immense scale. But the infested attack was worrisome. She thumbed through to the dossier on Stukov as the door opened onto the bridge.

     "Admiral on the bridge," Lieutenant Commander Achille Barre said as she exited the lift. She waved her hand at him, dismissing his formality.

     "No time for that, Barre. We're en route?"

     "Engaging FTL now."

     "Good. Barre, put me on speaker—don't do the visual feed though... I'd rather the whole ship not see me in this dress..."

     "Feed is live."

     "Everyone. As you've heard from news reports, Tarsonis is under attack and this is not a drill. What you haven't heard is that an old threat has returned to the Koprulu sector—the United Earth Directorate. In accordance with our recent treaty with the new Terran Republic, we are obliged to render whatever aid and defense we can. The core fleet will be joining the edge side fleet at the Tyrador system. From there, we will coordinate with Terran Republic forces and receive our orders. I'll keep everyone posted. We've trained for this, people. Let's go keep our sector safe."

     Marín motioned Barre to cut the comm. He gave Marín a "so-so" hand gesture. "I'd give that about a five on the pep talk scale. Needs more bullshit."

     "If the only criticism is 'needs more bullshit,' I'll take it," Marín said, walking towards her office just off the bridge. "I'm going to finish this briefing. If anyone calls, I'll take it in my office." Barre gave her a thumbs up.

     Inside her office, Marín put her shoes under her desk and sat down to finish reading. Terran Republic ghosts on the ground had sent back troubling images and reports. Massive Earth-built carriers supporting space-to-ground aircraft and battlecruisers had overwhelmed the system and locked down Tarsonis. Several command centers had been constructed, cementing their foothold on the planet and cutting Tarsonis City off from aid. And the zerg are attacking—and the infested. What a nightmare. She began reading the dossier attached to the briefing. As someone who had fought in the End War and had defended Umojan territory against the UED when they first arrived, she knew his name and remembered watching his funeral when the UED broadcast it via comm buoy. The dossier cited his participation in the End War and listed him as "infested," but that moniker didn't make sense to her. The infested are mindless zombies. How could any of them be in "control" of the others? And if he participated in the End War with the Dominion, why is he not on our side now? Is he even sentient or rational? The damage and casualty reports were horrific. Infestations were destroying buildings. Soldiers were falling only to rise again as the infested to fight for the UED. Most distressingly, the Umojan fleet was only a fraction of the size of the incoming UED armada and the Terran Republic had been caught with its pants down. They had suffered heavy losses in the End War and against the Queen of Blades; their forces had never been fully rebuilt. Also, Raynor was MIA and Horner was busy trying to hold the new Terran Republic together while also commanding the Republic's military. The new Republic was not in any state to repel an invasion.

     Barre stuck his head into Marín's office. "We're at the rendezvous." Marín gathered her dress and returned to the bridge.

     "Hail the Vrede." The Vrede responded immediately, the chrubic face of Fleet Admiral Augustin appearing on the screen.

     "Renata! Good. Get over here. We have a lot to discuss. Where is the Liberté? I need to speak to Oyaleni and Vermaak as well."

     "He left just after I did. I'm sure they'll be here soon."

     "Okay," he said dubiously, "but this is a horrible time to keep us waiting. We need to proceed with the utmost care and alacrity. See you momentarily. Oh, and... Nice dress. Shame about the opera... Ta ta! Augustin out."

     "Message the flight deck, Barre. Get me a shuttle ready."

     "Don't you want to change?" Marín was already in the elevator.

     "No time!"

     Marín boarded the shuttle and made her way to the Vrede. When she arrived on the bridge, Augustin and Valerian Mengsk were already discussing their plans for repelling the invaders. Marín was somewhat taken aback that Valerian was there—and in all his princely finery. She, like most Umojans, had a distrust of the entire Mengsk clan despite their government's original backing of them. They had been burned by it, and despite Valerian being originally an Umojan citizen, they did not hesitate to effectively end Valerian's reign by releasing further documents about Moebius's experiments. They were relieved that the Mengsk dynasty would not continue. But now he was here. Marín could not help but think that this would end up being a renewed bid for control.

     "...And the Republic and Moebius fleets will remain under my command until—or if—Horner rejoins the fleet."

     "Where's Admiral Horner?" Marín said, eyeing Valerian. Augustin rounded on her.

     "Ah, yes. Adm. Marín, I'm sure you know Valerian Mengsk?"

     "Yes... Of course," she said. Valerian extended his hand to her. She took it cautiously.

     "Pleasure to meet you, Admiral. I hope you don't mind if I reviewed your personnel file on the way here... Your record is quite impressive."

     "Thanks, I don't mind... After all, your 'record' is pretty public,'" Augustin coughed to stifle a laugh and Valerian frowned slightly at the comment but regained his composure.

     "You look... as if you were interrupted?" Valerian said, eyeing her dress.

     "I was at the opera..."

     "Ah yes, Il Nozze de Figaro was playing, wasn't it?"

     "Yes, yes it was."

     "Shame. They perform it so seldom... The Pasteur Opera House has one of the best companies I've had the pleasure to listen to... Though I might be partial to it... My family donated a great deal to the building's construction... There is a focus on culture there that is not present on Korhal or Tarsonis... We'll have to chat about opera later, if you're a fan."

     "Sure... Once all this is over, perhaps..." Marín said, unconvincingly. Valerian, to her, had always been a man of contradictions, but that he enjoyed opera puzzled her. Opera normally dealt with epic themes and abstract concepts like freedom and loyalty and what happens when power is abused. It seemed strange to her that he would enjoy it without seemingly internalizing any of its messages.

     "Valerian is here because Horner is trapped in Tarsonis City," Augustin said, quickly changing the subject, "For now, he's currently in charge of the Moebius and Republic fleets, but we're working on a plan for Horner's extraction—along with as many civilians as we can evacuate."

     "What is our plan of attack?"

     "There isn't one," Valerian said softly, "We're greatly outmatched. Our position will be defensive. We want to get as many people out and hold the UED off until they escape."

     "We're just going to let Tarsonis fall?" Marín said incredulously.

     "There's no other choice, Adm. Marín," Valerian said, "But we do have a defensive plan."

     "Which we'll discuss when Gen. Oyaleni and Lt. Gen Vermaak finally arrive..." Marín nodded, her eyes drifting towards the holographic table in the middle of the bridge which depicted the UED's troop movements in real-time three dimensionally above it. She walked to it, and then used her hands to manipulate the display and zoom in on the planet's surface. There, she watched a flurry of red dots—the infested—flooding the streets. But there was something odd about it—something that bothered her.

     "His involvement surprises me," Valerian said, walking quietly towards her, his cape flowing behind him. Who wears a cape? Marín thought.

     "Whose?"

     "Vice Adm. Stukov. Raynor thought highly of him... Or at least had a begrudging respect."

     "But he's zerg... And UED. Doesn't sound that surprising to me."

     "No, I suppose not... His alliance may have only been to Kerrigan. Without her in play, his loyalty may have defaulted to the UED. This is unfortunate... He is resourceful and... hard to predict. His assistance of the UED is already evident... The UED knows more than they should about the landscape of the city—and its weaknesses."

     "So wait, I thought he was infested? Aren't the infested mindless zombies? You're talking about him like he's still a man."

     "Stukov... Is a special case. He's... not going to be easy to push back..."

     "Yes," Augustin broke in, "and we've been discussing who would be best suited to do that. Renata, I think that person is you."

     "Wherever you think I would best serve," she said absently, still looking at the holographic map.

     "That's my girl," Augustin said jovially. "Stukov is attacking the heart of the city, limiting our access to a building where Horner is pinned down. There is an underground bunker and an access tunnel that leads to a nearby police headquarters—with a helipad. If you and Vermaak can push Stukov back and deal with the infestation, we should be able to get everyone in there out. The core fleet will be our shield, deflecting attacks from the evac and blocking ships from entering Tarsonis's atmosphere over Tarsonis City."

     "My fleets and the edge fleet will try to take out as much of the UED fleet as we can before we have to retreat," Valerian said. Marín nodded. It was what she expected, she supposed, but the doomed defense of Tarsonis agitated her. She did not like going into a fight she knew she could not win. All they could do was mitigate the damage. Still, maybe there was something she could do without obeying orders. She studied the map again. Maybe... If I could neutralize this "Stukov" and take him out as a random element... It wasn't what she had been directed to do, but she decided if she had the opportunity to kill or capture him, she would take it.

     Vermaak and Oyaleni finally arrived. "So good of you to join us," Augustin said sarcastically. Marín looked at him. He had changed, maybe even showered. Oyaleni looked somewhat pissed off like she had been kept waiting. So that's what took so long, Marín thought. "Gen. Jane Oyaleni, Lt. Gen. Vermaak, this is Valerian Mengsk..."

     "Mengsk," Oyaleni said, barely acknowledging him.

     "I know who he is," Vermaak said curtly.

     "Vermaak and Oyaleni will be assisting us in deflecting attention away from the evacuation and defending us on the ground."

     "Just tell us who to shoot," Vermaak said.

     "Charming," Valerian said with a tight-lipped smile.

     "Like I was telling Marín just now, Moebius, the Republic, and the edge side fleet will engage the UED. The core fleet will protect the evac and Tarsonis City while pushing Stukov's forces back away from Horner's position with Vermaak's marines. Oyaleni will deal with the larger threat of UED forces on the ground... Is that clear?"

     "Simple enough," Oyaleni said.

     "Good. We've wasted enough time. Vermaak, Marín, you're Dismissed. General Oyaleni, may I speak with you further?" Oyaleni, a woman of few words, crossed her broad arms and stood near Augustin, tapping her dark fingers on her sleeves as she eyed Valerian. No Umojan trusts Valerian, Marín thought.

     Marín and Vermaak boarded the lift from the bridge to make their way back to the hangar. As soon as the doors closed, Vermaak looked Marín up and down.

     "What are you still doing in that dress?" Vermaak said. Marín turned to him, annoyed.

     "What are you doing showing up thirty minutes after everyone else?"

     "Didn't want to look like a twit in a suit."

     "One, Valerian always wears a cape. You wouldn't have been the only 'twit' in the room. Two, are you calling me a twit?"

     "You look a bit crazy, yeah."

     "I look like I care, Wynand."

     "Fine," Vermaak said, sighing. "I knew if I showed up dressed like I was, Augustin would put two and two together about us."

     "You don't think that he has? It's been three years and we've known each since the academy. And the they didn't bother giving us separate orders because they knew we'd be together."

     "It looks unprofessional."

     "I know you want succeed Oyaleni..."

     "Why wouldn't I?"

     "I don't care if you do, Wynand, but I don't know what about our relationship would keep you from it." Except that she did. She had a reputation, and it was not necessarily a good one. Of the two of them, despite his vulture-riding swagger, she was the more controversial. Marín was considered by some to be too eager and maybe a bit too clever for her own good. People talked about her. Some respected her, others didn't; their feelings were either hot or cold. It was not that way for Vermaak. Most people had no opinion or not much of one. He was good at gliding just under the radar and not upsetting anyone. If it was widely known that they were partners, his reputation might be slightly sullied. But it wouldn't matter that much.

     As the two of them boarded the shuttle back to Uhuru, their conversation turned to more pressing matters: the coordination of Horner's evac and how to deal with the infested horde.

     "The infested... Don't have much experience with them," Vermaak said gruffly. He rubbed his hands together slowly, lost in thought.

     "No, we don't... Occasionally we'd see them, but we'd stay the hell away. Nuke 'n go if we could."

     "Can't do that here."

     "We can keep them at arm's length though... Siege tanks?" Vermaak considered this with his usual careful slowness.

     "Yep. Keep the line from getting too close."

     "Banshees too. From what I saw, Stukov has sacrificed air for ground speed."

     "May not be a choice. Are there any starports nearby?"

     "That's a thought. No one to infest. He could build spires, but the city may be too densely packed to raise them.

     "Right."

     "You know, your usual cautiousness is going to come in very handy right now." Marín knew she had said something wrong when Vermaak's eyes narrowed at her and his brow knitted together.

     "My what?" He absently put his hand on his thigh, on the edge of where she knew his bionic prosthesis began under his fatigues.

     "I mean in comparison to me... You know how I am. Pushing back slowly—that's the only way. Losing troops to the infested will just feed Stukov's war machine." Vermaak nodded in agreement, his anger diffused momentarily, but then he turned to her again, suspicious.

     "You're planning something, aren't you?"

     "What? No."

     "I can tell... You're going to do something stupid. What is it?"

     "It's not stupid..."

     "Renata..."

     Marín sighed. "Stukov needs to be taken out. If I see a chance, I'm going to take it."

     "How do you think you're going to find him? How do you think you're going to kill him?"

     "I'll... Figure that out later. Like I said, if I get the chance."

     "Don't get yourself hurt... or killed..."

     "I haven't yet..."

     "Not all of us have been so lucky..." He rapped on his leg, making a hollow, metallic sound. "This could have been much worse."

     "I know, I'm sorry..."

     "Sorry? It's not your fault. Just... be careful. Don't do something brash."

     "I... I won't."

     The shuttle landed softly in the Uhuru's hangar and the shuttle's door opened. Vermaak stood, taking her by both hands.

     "I hope you mean that."

     He leaned down and kissed her.

     "See you later, eh?"

     "Yeah, I'll send Oyaleni my notes. Be careful."

     "I always am. That's double for you."

     Vermaak disappeared out of the shuttle and into the hangar bay. She could already hear the doppler effect of his booming voice as he barked orders to his marines while he marched deeper into the hangar. Marín got up and made her way to the bridge and into her office. At her desk, she drafted her orders but stopped, looking again at Stukov's troop movements one more time. There was something odd about them, something she couldn't put her finger on. She keyed up Republic archive battle footage of Stukov from during the UED invasion. It was the first time she'd had the occasion to use it since the treaty. What she saw there did not match what was happening now in the city of Tarsonis. If anything, Stukov had always been very aggressive, arrogant even, and had intricate strategies meant to confuse his enemies. Here, he kept the line and advanced incrementally, attacking only in defense. She had no idea what that meant.

     In any case, she had a plan. She would recommend what she and Vermaak discussed to Oyaleni: no ground troops except siege tanks and, she added, firebats. The siege tanks to push back the infested, and the firebats to clear the infestation. They would have to keep from losing their own troops and rely heavily on her for air support. She would assign as many liberators and banshees as she could spare. But, the sheer number of troops Stukov had been able to raise would be hard to churn through. Secretly though, she thought they could rout him—if she could figure out where his command center was. Over eager... Sticking my neck out again, she thought. But we'd all be safer if he was gone.

     She drafted the battle plan on a map and sent it with annotations to her captains and Oyaleni. And now all she had left to do was address the fleet again. She stepped back onto the bridge. "Open a channel, Barre."

     "Aye, ma'am." A chime let Marín know she was on air.

     "Good evening... Or morning depending on where you've come from in the sector... I wish I had better news to tell everyone, but with the zerg and UED fleet attacking Tarsonis now, when it is most vulnerable after years of war, there is no hope that we will 'win' this battle. What we must focus on is protecting the citizens of the Terran Republic in their evacuation from Tarsonis. Aside from that mission is another important one—to help the Terran Republic in its rescue of its current leader, Adm. Matthew Horner. In doing so, we will go up against the zerg and the infested under the command of Vice Adm. Alexei Stukov, an infested human and UED military leader. This will necessarily be a mission that we will have to undertake very carefully. Your orders are being sent now. Keep abreast of them and keep your eyes open. We need to do as much damage as we can to the UED fleet while we are here, but stay focused and don't take any unnecessary risks. See you all on the flip side. Good luck."

     This was the part that always filled Marín with guilt: giving orders that meant someone was not coming back. Protocol stated that she should not leave the Uhuru and lead from afar, but she found that unconscionable.

     "Put me through to Dani, Barre." Barre patched her though.

     "Hey Dani, is my wraith ready?

     "Ready and waiting, boss lady."

     "Be there in five."

     When Mitchell reached the hangar, the deck shook beneath her feet. Banshees, liberators, and medivac shuttles were all waiting to launch, their engines on, roaring with noise and shimmering with heat. A warning klaxon sounded as the hangar launch port shield snapped on and the hangar's immense door began to open. Her wraith was waiting for her on the only wraith launch rack still in use on the Uhuru. Unlike the other vessels, the wraith, unable to stand on its own, had to be catapulted out of the hangar on a jet-powered rack. Marín pulled herself into the cockpit, lowered the cockpit canopy and put on her helmet and breathing apparatus. The canopy sealed shut, dampening the noise of the hangar, but she could still feel the vibrations of the ships on deck through the seat. The hangar bay door was fully open now, and aircraft were launching in groups out into the void of space. She engaged the rack; it lurched the craft forward, putting her in line with everyone else. A few minutes later, it was finally her turn.

     "Hit me, chief."

     "Aw, yeah."

     She felt the jet on the back of the launch rack ignite. The rack sped forward, throwing her wraith out of the hangar. Suddenly, all was quiet as the vacuum enveloped her. Below, she could see the bluish glow of Tarsonis and in the distance the UED fleet. She engaged her cloak, and above her a squadron of banshees did the same. Behind them, the Uhuru, four squadrons of banshees, a squadron of liberators, and what battlecruisers could be spared to attack Stukov, began turning planetside.

     "Squadron leader Gavran, this is Marín. I'm here as an extra pair of eyes. Support our firebats and siege tanks. Keep the infested at bay and push them back so our battlecruisers and medivac units can assist with evac."

     "Roger, Admiral. Good to know we've got you over our shoulder."

     The squadron moved past her and down. She went in the same direction but skimmed the upper atmosphere, keeping the battlefield below her. She wanted to get a peek behind enemy lines. The ground moved swiftly by as the city thinned to suburbs and then to an industrial area.

     She called Vermaak to assess his progress.

     "Wynand, how's it look?"

     "We're pushing back. Progress is slow but looks like we can get a bird in for Horner in about thirty minutes."

     "You hear that, Gavran?"

     "Yep, we'll be waiting to escort."

     She flew quickly over a large train depot and trainyard full of empty train cars. Something caught her eye. She turned around quickly—and immediately she wished she hadn't. A massive horde of infested sat waiting, stuffed in train cars and obscured by a train depot. They were just kilometers from the city. What is he waiting for?

     Marín hailed Valerian.

     "Valerian, this is Marín. We have a window in thirty minutes to get Horner out, but I've got eyes on a phalanx of infested hiding in a train depot outside the city. Radio Vermaak." She didn't want Vermaak to know she was out in her wraith, "I think a massive push is imminent."

     "Can we stop it?"

     "No, but I don't know why he hasn't attacked yet... He's just... waiting. Does he know Horner's there?"

     "I don't know. Possibly."

     "Even so, I think he would have flattened the place by now. I'm going fly in and investigate."

     "Wait, you're in play?"

     "Nice chat, Valerian. I'll see you at the debrief later." She cut the comm, not wanting what would inevitably have been a lecture.

     In the distance, Marín spotted a spire. Mutalisks stood by it, obviously on stand-by. An overlord lumbered into view; she gave it a wide berth. Everything was ready, but everything was waiting. What is he doing? It was then she saw it: a battlecruiser—or what was left of one—lurking in low orbit, flying just low enough to confuse the fleet's scanners. The charge on her wraith's cloaking device was low, but she thought she could make it in for a closer look. She burned towards the battlecruiser. Studying it, she could plainly see it was one of the old model UED battlecruisers, dark and brutal in its design. He's in there, she thought, watching.

     Marín's cloak began to break up. She flew higher into space and away from the infested battlecruiser and the UED fleet to seek shelter behind the Umojan line. Around her, a battle between the UED fleet and Augustin's forces raged. Marín was in no position to join in the fray. She cut her engines and drifted, taking cover in the debris of the fight and letting her cloak recharge. As she observed the skirmish, the UED fleet appeared so large that it almost blotted out the light of the Tarsonis system's star. Her ship turned, listing in space. Below her, she saw Stukov's battlecruiser begin to move away from the city and behind his line. As her cloak finished recharging, she fired up her engines and reengaged it, steering her ship back down and towards him. She opened her comm and turned the band to a universal frequency.

     "To anyone on this frequency, this is Adm. Marín of the Umojan fleet. I've found Stukov. I'm radioing rendezvous coordinates now. Anyone with air-to-air that can break off from the main battle—Republic, Moebius, or Umojan—please converge on those coordinates. We're going to end at least part of this conflict." There was a clamber of replies on the open channel. From what she could tell, around eight liberators—five Umojan, three from the Republic—that would be joining her. The Moebius fleet remained slient. Figures. They must only kowtow to Valerian. She changed her comm frequency to that of the Republic fleet.

     "Is Horner out?"

     "Transport just lifted off. He should be back on the Hyperion in five," the Bucephalus's comm officer said.

     "Good to hear."

     Below her as she passed the edge of the city, she saw the earth heave beneath her. To her horror, two massive utralisks—larger than any she had seen before and armored—burst from the ground.

     "What the fuck?" she inadvertently yelled into the comm.

     "Ma'am?" The comm officer replied, shaken.

     "Ultralisks inbound on the city. Our line..." she cut the comm and whipped her wraith around and flew towards the train depot. The infested were streaming out of it. A flock of mutalisks screamed by her, almost ramming her. She changed back to the universal comm frequency.

     "Infested, ultralisks, and air units are mobilizing. All ground troops be on alert! This is the real attack, everyone. Vermaak?"

     "We're moving out," Vermaak said hurriedly, forgetting to turn off his comm. In the background, she could hear him screaming orders to his marines in his husky voice.

     "Evac isn't finished. What should we do?" Capt. Gavran cut in.

     "You've done what you can! Get the hell out of there!"

     Marín sped up, gunning towards the rendezvous. Now that she had seen how powerful Stukov could potentially be, it was even more imperative that they put him down. Something still nagged at her. It seemed to her that he had waited until Horner was out and until the bulk of the civilians had been evacuated. His movements made no sense, she reasoned, unless he was consciously trying to avoid civilian casualties and was allowing Horner to escape. There may have still been some underlying loyalty left, or there may have been unforeseen variables in play. Despite that, taking him out was still a benefit. To Marín, letting him live was not an option.

     The squad of liberators joined her.

     "Aw yeah, let's kick that zerg motherfucker right in the cu-." a Republic captain began.

     "Uhhh, you realize that Admiral Marín is on this frequency..." one of the Umojan captains said, speaking over him.

     "Uh, nope. No, I did not. Sorry ma'am."

     "I've heard worse. Let's get to it." The liberators surged forward, swooping in to follow the infested battlecruiser, but Stukov saw them, and the battlecruiser began rising in the atmosphere to leave orbit. Running back to the fleet, Marín thought. One of the liberators came within firing range, but before it could get a bead on him, a tendril snaked out of the battlecruiser and lanced through both of the liberator's engines. The tendril flicked the liberator into space where it cartwheeled away from Tarsonis's gravity well. "Sit tight, Captain. I'm ordering you a medivac. Use your thrusters to stabilize your pitch..." Marín called in a medivac, and the remaining liberators, led by Marín, continued their pursuit of Stukov. "Get in close around him but stay out of range of those... tentacles. Head him off. We can't let him jump to FTL." Suddenly, the battlecruiser fell several thousand feet and flew right under them, burning some of the infestation off of its hull in the process. He rose again and veered away from the UED fleet. "Follow him!" Marín and the liberators gave chase. The liberators, quicker in atmospheric conditions, easily outpaced Stukov, who had still managed put the planet between him and the UED fleet. They stopped in front of him, turning to face him. Marín followed behind the battlecruiser, still cloaked but cutting off his escape.

     The battlecruiser came to a stop. For a breathless moment, the liberators stared him down. Slowly, the battlecruiser came about to face Marín's cloaked ship. She thought for a moment Stukov would make another run into the atmosphere, but his battlecruiser stayed stationery save the long zerg tentacles waving beneath it. What is he doing? Does he...

     "Time to give him what's coming to him... Permission to fire, Admiral?"

     "Negative, Capt. Baker."

     "What?" one of the Republic liberator captains broke in again, "The dude just pulled his pants down and showed us his ass. Let's lube him up and fuck 'em then put him to bed."

     "Vasiliy, goddamn it," one of the other Republic liberator pilots said quietly into the comm. Ignoring them, Marín dropped her cloak and nudged her thruster forward towards Stukov's battlecruiser. A din of shocked exclamations erupted over the comm, telling her not to get any closer.

     "He's been able to see me the whole time. Calm down." She changed her comm's band and broadcast a ship-to-ship automated call, introducing herself, her rank, and her command. Moments went by, and she received a message on the same frequency—but text only. The message read, "Urgent meeting requested. Meet in 3 hrs at the coordinates encrypted in this message. Come alone and unarmed." Stukov's ship began moving again, turning towards the liberators. Distortion, caused by the battlecruiser's FTL drive, made the space around it seem to bulge and bend.

     "He's firing up his FTL..." Capt. Baker said over the comm.

     "Get out of the way. Let him go."

     "What?" Vasiliy said incredulously.

     "You heard me." The liberators reluctantly moved away from the battlecruiser, and it jumped away to FTL.

     Augustin called Marín. "Adm. Marín. I was given word that you had cornered Stukov. Have you been able to neutralize him?"

     "No, sir... But I've made contact."

     "Contact?"

     "I'll explain later. We're done here."

     "Then for heaven's sake, get back to the Uhuru. We're overwhelmed as it is and we need to fall back."

     "Yes, sir."

Just what have I gotten myself into...

[someonestole15]

Rip and tear.

It’s been quiet over the days, but there is something coming.

My sensors picked up a low flying cargo plane passing over me. Greyed out with no markings, it was hiding something, and flying that low; it must be good. The drone escorts circling it were more heavily armored than ones I had seen before. I had to get on that plane, call it curiosity or just wanting some action after days of walking. I ran closer to the road and hooked myself to the starboard engine. The drones didn’t sight me, guessing they were looking for airborne targets. I hoisted myself closer to the hull and planted my carbon blade into it.

>Forming connection… Complete.

I retracted my blade, hiding it inside my left hand. The blade had transferred small amounts of surveillance files, allowing me to keep an eye on everything and making me completely invisible to the escort drones. I was a part of the plane on their sensors. I made my way to the top of the plane. The wind was quite hard even with the speed of this flying fortress being quite low. I kept my grip, but it would have been easier with those mag gloves, but those were gone. I scanned the main fuselage and located a hatch to access the interior of the plane. I pulled open the hatch and climbed inside. There were no lights, surrounded by darkness I activated my left eye, letting its glow guide me. Servers lined the small maintenance space and there was a pilot seat placed at the end towards the front. I sat in the seat and saw it calibrate to my body, trying to give me the control. I stood as before it could, I wanted to see where this plane was heading. The screen stating something about the destination being REDACTED, so even the plane didn’t know where it was headed. Looking through the servers I found a manifest and protocol guide on how the plane operates without a pilot. The flight plan was only partly uploaded to the CPU, the rest of it would be brought in with a drone once it reached a checkpoint near the landing site. From the data, it seemed like we were quite close.

I was correct on that. The radar picked up a fast moving vehicle flying closer to the plane. I opened the hatch as much as I could with the wind pushing it down. From the small gap I could see the fighter drone dock on top of the main fuselage, taking over the controls. I closed the hatch and prepared for what was coming once the plane landed. I was in for the ride but they had no idea I was in here. The plane started its landing sequence and not too long after, it was taxing on what I presume was the runway. I lifted the hatch and looked around. A runway and some hangars lining it. The whole place was surrounded by trees, but there was something above them. The place was quite empty, but I noticed something familiar near the main building. The helicopters parked there looked familiar, almost like they had flown past me when I was in that little town. So this was where they brought that object that crashed into that forest. I wonder where that is now, most likely close by. I stayed in the plane for a bit as it rolled towards a hangar on the far end. I had to get a closer look at this place.

The sun was going down, giving me a chance to get around undetected. My stealth generator was broken, the darkness will be my friend for now. I walked outside, the place had gone dead quiet. I could hear my filters taking in air, I walked as quietly as I could to reach the main building. I pulled on the handle and found the door locked, picking it shouldn’t be too hard. The building was dark, no lights anywhere. I drew my PDW and carefully opened the door. My sensor picked up traces of blood circulating in the air, I stepped inside to find a line of corpses against the main desk. They must have been dead for a while now, and there is a weird sound coming from all the speakers around the room. My HUD showed multiple warnings of an unknown toxin coming from the ventilation. There were 2 hallways, Left and right. I looked down the left one and saw an inactive security bot standing in the middle of it. I walked towards it, slowly. I could almost touch it when I saw the blood on its chassis and arms. It suddenly shook violently and came to live. It started walking towards me with its bloody hands raised, almost like a zombie. It kept repeating the line “Let me help you”. No thanks, guessing their help would just get me disassembled. I walked backwards as the thing kept walking towards me, increasing its speed. I opened fire. Multiple rounds later the robot was laying on the floor, silent. I stepped up to it and ripped out the memory unit from the back of its head. Scanning it made it clear, all the security around here had gone rogue. The bots had killed all the staff and where then left in standby, waiting for anyone to enter this place. I checked my magazine, I had fired most of it into that bot running at me, I would have to save ammo and go in with my blade. I returned to the main desk and searched it. There was a map on the wall next to a vending machine. I gave it a slight knock and picked up the can that fell out. A distraction tool might be useful. Under the table was a knife. I took it and held it in my left hand, 2 blades are better than one, and having both in one hand would allow me to rip and tear through the robots. I can hear them wonder the hallways. I raised the mask on my face and took a set of body armor from one of the soldiers lined up at the front. I stepped forward.

Once more into the breach, I will get through this.

[sarissophori]

Forebode, Chapter 2

The Wayfarer maneuvered into position over XH-Ld, carefully balancing pitch, angle and tilt against the moon’s gravity and that of its host planet with short, precise pulses of thrust, until she hung serenely atop the equatorial line. Moving at a speed just under the moon’s own rotation, Ensign Tajmaran began a surface scan as Ensign Komev combed for transmissions. XH-Ld rotated slowly under their gaze, caught in a glowing aura from Lambda Prime before its horizon slipped away into darkness.

       The moon, nineteen thousand kilometers in circumference, was reddish-brown and pockmarked with craters large and small. A few areas, however, especially in the western hemisphere, were vast desert wastes, some of the dunes visible from their lofty vantage point.

More visible were the mountains, canyons and continental shelves, outthrust over wide plains of dull crimson. There were few clouds, and no signs of either water or seasonal changes.

       The mood on the bridge was mildly tentative; no one talked, the flight officers keeping to their tasks with a quiet, if not obsessive, dedication.

       Hindel’s own concentration wandered as information continually uploaded itself on the main display in front of her, watching as another mountain range went silently by on the window screen, then a desert.

       The co-pilot’s station started beeping, startling everyone and perking Tajmaran.

       “We’ve got something, captain!”

       Ellson leaned over at the readings. Komev spun around in her chair.

       “Here, northwest tetrasphere.”

       Tajmaran enlarged and enhanced the area on the main display.

       “Fifteen degrees longitude, forty-five degrees latitude: highly refined titanium and ceramic composites, manmade.”

       “Geo-synchronous orbit, mister Ellson” Hindel said. “Fifteen degrees longitude by forty-five degrees latitude.”

       “Aye ma’am” Ellson said. “Fifteen by four-five.”

      Ellson tapped the rear thrusters, bumping the Wayfarer in direction of the coordinates, then locked them into a stable orbit.

       “Direct scan for visual confirmation” Hindel said.

       The scan was made, and sent as a topographical map to the display. Hindel enhanced the area where the ping was located.

       There it was, on the face of a broad shelf hemmed by jagged mountains, beside the fringes of a vast dune sea; the Wanderer, scattered over a dozen miles in different crash sites, the two largest separated by nearly a kilometer of rugged terrain.

       “Looks like those might be the fore and aft sections…”

       Hindel glanced up at her crew.

       “Komev, tell the SAR team to get prepped for an away in ten, and have the shuttle ready.”

       “Yes ma’am.”

 Having received the call to action, finally, from the bridge, Sergeant Barrens ran to his team’s quarters and banged his fist on the bulkhead.

       “Davis, Duvin, Farzen; grab your gear and move it, we’re going down!”

       His men leapt to their feet and scrambled, sprinting down B-deck’s main corridor and sliding down the ladders to C-deck. Entering the excursion room, they stripped off their uniforms and boots, and put on the pressurized environment suits stored within.

       “Go, go, move it!”

       Cradling their helmets, Barrens and his men filed onto the cargo lift that dropped them to the hangar, where the shuttle sat warmed and waiting. The all-terrain rover lent by the company was parked by the open ramp, loaded with survival and medical gear. Lieutenant Ausmith waved them over while Hornens and Mason ran through their final pre-flight checks.

       “Dust-off is in three” Ausmith said through the noise. “Hop in and synch up.”

       The SAR team harnessed in, sitting their helmets in their laps as Mason drove the rover inside the cabin and latched it in place.

       Hornens gave them a thumbs-up as he completed his checks, then motioned for Mason to follow him out of the hangar. Ausmith closed the ramp, and powered the engines to a whine.

       ��Away team to bridge” Ausmith said. “We’re loaded up and ready to go.”

       “Roger that, away team” Hindel said from her channel. “Cleared for leave.”

       Strobe lights flashed as atmosphere was vented from the hangar, a whining hiss quenched gradually by vacuum; the shuttle too soon lost its roar. The hangar doors parted, and with a push from its engines the shuttle left its bay, floating out into the emptiness of space.

       The afterburners fired. The shuttle curved away from the Wayfarer, then dove for XH-Ld. The moon’s pale stratosphere buffeted the hull, gleaming it with fire a few short moments before burning out, leaving thin trails of exhaust along the wingtips.

       Leveling out, they glided in over the mountain shelf, a sprawling plateau crumbled into mesas, hills and valleys the more it bit into the dune sea, or the more the dune sea devoured of it. Relatively flat except for reared uplands toward the mountains, the shelf was gouged by gullies of rock blasted smooth by sand, and dotted with high, knife-like pillars of pink granite banded by glinting feldspars.

       The marker point was just ahead. The shuttle descended gradually for the main crash site, circling around for the best landing spot, then angled in a few hundred meters from where the tattered aft section lay. The shuttle maneuvered down with thrusters and extended skids from its hull, touching ground gently before settling on its pistons. Ausmith cut the engines, and the SAR team fitted on their helmets.

       “I’ll be keeping radio contact if something comes up” Ausmith said. “Have fun in the dirt.”

       “Sittin’ on his damn ass” Duvin said, hitting the ramp release. Air in the cabin hissed as it opened, letting in XH-Ld’s pallid orange light; their visors tinted to adjust. It also became noticeably colder, making their suits compensate by activating their thermal inlayers.

       De-latching the rover, they parked it on the sand and saw for themselves the humbling, desolate landscape of this other world, feeling a keen loneliness they couldn’t explain.

       “This place gives me the creeps already” Farzen said.

       “Alright, com-check” Barrens said. “Can everyone hear me?”

       “Yes sir” the men said.

       “Sound off.”

       “Farzen reporting.”

       “Duvin reporting.”

       “Davis reporting.”

       “Can you hear each other?”

       “Yes sir.”

       “How ‘bout you, bridge?” he said to Hindel.

       “Loud and clear, sergeant” Hindel said.

       “And the HUD-feeds?”

       “We can see you just fine. Good luck.”

       “Thanks, Barrens out.”

       He addressed his team. “Alright, listen up: we’ll split off into two groups; Farzen and I will search the farther crash site, and you two will search the closer one. Let’s get to it.”

 With Davis and Duvin riding in the bed with the supplies, the rover sped for the nearest crash site, bouncing along and swerving as it went. The engines and engineering section, or what was left of them, were dead ahead. They had either collided into the side of a hill, or sand had piled up steadily against the superstructure. There was a wide debris field surrounding the area, scattered as much by the wind as the impact. The rover stopped, letting Davis and Duvin hop out, before driving further along the plateau to the second site.

       After a kilometer’s worth of proverbial bad road, Barrens halted the rover beside a long, deep trench dug by the Wanderer’s prow as it came slamming down, wedging firmly into the bedrock of the plateau; now as much a dark grim monolith as the other rock structures. The nose was gone, and half of the section was buckled in like an accordion. The name and registration could barely be read on the hull.

       “Christ” Farzen said.

       “Never been on a salvage job before?” Barrens said.

       “Not one like this.”

       “It’s probably worse inside. Come on, we’ve got a long day ahead of us.”

 Back on the Wayfarer, Hindel watched the team’s HUD feeds on her display as they began their search, their perspectives panning up and around as they entered the dilapidated shells of the Wanderer. Davis’s and Duvin’s cams showed the rusted decks and corridors of the engineering levels, their feet crunching on shards of debris. Davis brushed a bundle of hanging wires from his visor, slipping on the grated floor as he did, his feed a blur of sudden movement.

       “Watch your step” Hindel said.

       “A little late for that” Davis said, steadying himself.

       “Man, if anyone was holed-up in here, I doubt they could’ve lasted long” Duvin said, hisses of static cutting in.

       “It ain’t exactly airtight, and none of the doors look intact. Unless they got a suit and really knew how to save their oxygen, this place is a death trap.”

       “Please don’t say that, not while we’re still in here” Davis said.

       “Just keep searching” Hindel told them. “Remove all doubts.”

       “Aye ma’am.”

       On the other side of her display, Farzen’s and Barrens’s cams showed the forward compartments in little better shape. They were going cautiously through the central hallway and peering into the rooms, panning their lights, then moving on.

       “Approaching main terminus” Barrens said. “Still no signs.”

       Past a pair of unhinged pressure doors was the Wanderer’s elevator, crumpled and broken away from its cables, sitting in a well of blackness. Farzen found a directory on the wall close by, brushing the dust away to read it.

       “Says here the crew bunks are port, work stations starboard. Should we split up?”

       “In this junkheap?” Barrens said. “Hell no. We’ll search the crew quarters first.”

       Left of the terminus was a small corridor spaced with doors; personal rooms, latrines, a galley, and a rec room. As they passed the bulkhead, Farzen did a double-take.

       “Hey Sarge, would you look at this?”

       “At what?”

       “Here, by the frame.”

       Farzen pointed it out in the gleam of his light.

       “It’s blood, sir.”

       Streaks of red stained the wall, with trails meandering to the deck plates. Spots were on the rails and ceiling. Barrens pulled out his scanner and waved it over to take readings.

       “Yeah, that’s blood alright. You getting this, captain?”

       “I am” Hindel said. “I just don’t know what to make of it.”

       “Well, considering this is a crash site” Farzen said.

       “No” Barrens said. “I’ve done a lot of search and salvages, and none of them had standing blood like this.”

       “So some kind of disturbance, a mutiny maybe?” Farzen said.

       “What do you think, captain?” Barrens said.

       “Mutinies are unheard of, even beyond the colonies” Hindel said. “Wouldn’t be my first guess, but we can’t rule it out until we know more.”

      “Speaking of” Duvin said. “Check this out, everyone.”

       His HUD showed scoring on some of the panels of the engineering section, and carbon residue by the consoles. Some of the corners even looked melted.

       “Shock rifles, highest setting too.”

       “Are you sure?” Hindel said.

       “Positive” Duvin said. “This ain’t no random plasma discharge. I know what shock rifle fire looks like, and this is it.”

       “Shit, man” Davis said. “There’s blood in here, too.”

       “It’s beginning to look more and more like a mutiny of some kind, ma’am” Duvin said.

       “They sent no distress beacon” Hindel said. “No warning.”

       “Maybe it happened too quickly” Farzen said. “Maybe there wasn’t time for it.”

       “There’s only one way to find out” Hindel said. “If we’re lucky, the Wanderer’s flight recorder might still be intact.”

       “Worth a try” Barrens said. “We’ll make our way to the bridge as soon as we’ve cleared the rest of the ship.”

       Barrens and Farzen continued down the corridor, their readouts showing a rise in heartrate, pulse and respiration. Even the bridge crew felt uneasy as they stood around Hindel’s console, transfixed by what was unfolding over the display, their curiosity tinged with nervousness.

       There was more blood on the walls and doors. Windows were cracked, metal plating gouged, and panels torn away.

       “Shock rifles didn’t do this” Barrens said. “This is like someone came through with an axe.”

       The crew bunks were empty; the latrines were rusted and open to the sky; the galley was crunched in; and what had been the rec room had collapsed into the sub-ducts. Finding no evidence of survivors, or bodies for that matter, the sergeant and private backtracked to the terminus and went through the starboard corridor; the compartments, numbered one to three, were reserved for scientific, xeno-logical and geological studies, with supply rooms in-between.

       They were going past the laboratory when Barrens motioned for them to stop.

       “Wait, hold on. Pan a light in the lab, rear-left corner.”

       Their lights shone on a strange, calcified growth, taking up the entire corner and branching out along the walls. Fingers of it curled around the tables, and fungus-like patches covered the windows. Thin fragile threads hung in the gloom.

       “What the hell is that?” Farzen said.

       “My money’s on science experiment gone wrong” Barrens said.

       “Conducting experiments was a part of their mission parameters” Hindel said. “Mind getting a closer look, sergeant?”

       “Sure” Barrens said. He nudged Farzen. “You heard her. Get a closer look, private.”

       After some hesitation, Farzen approached the growth while still keeping his distance. It seemed dormant enough, but he wasn’t tempted to take any chances by touching it.

       “You guys think this might’ve had something to do with the crash?” he said. “Like a fungal infection, spores or something?”

       “I don’t know” Hindel said. “We may need a sample for Dr. Han to study on the ship.”

       Farzen scoffed. “With all respect, are you serious? This thing could be what killed the crew for all we know, and you want to take a piece of it with us?”

       “We can’t say for sure it did” Hindel said. “Studying it might help us solve at least some of what happened to the Wanderer. If they all died here, we owe it to them to figure out how. A sample please, private.”

       “I was afraid you’d say that.”

       Tentatively, Farzen removed a small container from his suit and with a pinch, broke away one of the nodules from the main growth using steel tweezers.

       “Sample acquired.”

       “Come on, hurry up” Barrens said. “We still have the bridge to go through.”

 Davis and Duvin finished their search of engineering’s upper level and descended down to the lower, climbing at an angle.

       “Watch out” Davis said. “Floor’s crooked here too.”

       “This whole damn ship’s crooked” Duvin said. “And I ain’t talkin’ about the crash.”

       They had just seen their teammates’ video of the growth in the lab, and half-expected to find something equally unpleasant themselves at any moment.

       “Fuckin’ space mold. Should just flag the whole damn planet and get the hell outta here before our brains melt or somethin’.”

       “How do we know it even came from here?” Davis said.

       “Flag the whole damn system then” Duvin said.  “I don’t give a shit, I ain’t comin’ back. No one should.”

       “Amen, brother.”

       They came to a large central area with two wings going off around the housing of the reactor core. Most of the deck plates were bent or missing; the reinforced observation window was intact –if split across by an ugly crack.

       “Over here” Davis said. “A hallway.”

       Starting at the bulkhead and curving with the maintenance passage were several storage rooms, all closed and locked, except for one door twisted ajar in the crash.

       “Worth a peek?” Davis said.

       “After you.”

       “Gee, what a pal.”

       They carefully made their way over, side-stepping gaps in the deck plates and sweeping the shadows for any more dangers. After some effort they managed to pry the loose door further open, the metal slides screeching in protest. Davis peered inside.

       “Shit…hey sarge, check my HUD. I found one of the crew.”

       A body in a pressure suit lay sprawled on the floor, visor smashed, bones pulverized, the remains practically freeze-dried. A smashed shock rifle was nearby.

       “He’s about in the shape we expected to find’em.”

       “Yeah, but who?” Barrens said over the com.

       Davis raised up a shoulder to read the nametag, grimacing as he did.

       “Says Talbert. Captain?”

       “Chief engineer for the ship” Hindel said. “Caucasian, five-foot-nine, brown hair and eyes.”

       “The guy’s pretty much powder now” Davis said. “But we’ll take your word for it.”

       “Probably died in the crash” Duvin said. “Safe to say space mold didn’t kill’em.”

       “A little respect, you two” Barrens said. “The both of you just got burial detail. Finish up your search, then get on it.”

       “Yes sir.”

       Davis shook his head. “Man, this doesn’t make sense. If he was zipped up, then why did he lock himself in here? Why not go for an escape pod?”

       “I guess escaping wasn’t an option anymore” Duvin said. “Only hiding.”

 When Farzen and Barrens made it to the bridge, they found that most of it was gone. No forward window, no crew stations; just open air and a faint hissing wind. Only the area behind the pressure doors remained intact.

       “Bad news, ma’am” Barrens said. “There’s no bridge left, so no flight recorder to recover.”

       “I see” Hindel said. “Well, if you’re satisfied that the site has been thoroughly checked for remains, we can mark her down for company salvage. There aren’t any survivors from this, or were.”

       “My thoughts exactly” Barrens said. “Alright guys, that’s a wrap. Let’s get the hell out of this ghost ship.”

 Chief Engineer Talbert received his burial away from the shadow of the wreck, his grave marked by a modest mound with a large stone. The team now scouted the area around the Wanderer, investigating the dozens of other craters tagged by the Wayfarer as part of the debris field; mostly junk and rubbish, though some of it was recoverable.

       Then, at their final crater, they noticed part of an escape pod sticking up from the sand, weathered but intact, recognizable enough at close distance.

       Using micro-charges to break the airlock, Barrens pried the doors apart and panned his light inside. There were no bodies, not even signs it was ever occupied, except for something harnessed into one of the seats. He un-buckled it, carried it out and hefted it.

       “Captain, I think we found the Wanderer’s flight recorder, and it looks intact.”

       “In the escape pod?” Hindel said.

       “That really the strangest thing we’ve found all day?”

       “Right” Hindel said. “Good find, sergeant. Bring it up ASAP so we can actually figure out what happened here.”

       “And maybe leave” Barrens said. “You heard her, boys. Back to the shuttle.”