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Strategos (A Great Captain Roberts Tale!!) - Part 3 - A Light In The Black -
Chapter 12 - You can tell me it's no use[]
Ambush in the Dark[]
Cecil Halford…
…leaned forward. The convoy was on approach, sporting colorful markings of fanciful creatures.
"Identify the escort." he ordered.
Fredasa Class Corvette
"Confirmed it's a corvette class vessel, the Intel from the Ministry of Communications identifies it as a Fredasa, sir."
"Prep missile systems for bearings only launch." he ordered. "So, an Essex and a Fredasa…okay. Signal the rest of the task force, we begin in fifteen minutes." He began detailing targets for each ship. "Nothing leaves this jump point under its own power," he added. "Did they include the marking schema?"
"According to the Files, those ships belong to a Clan. In this case, Clan Jade Falcon."
"Okay then, we're going to sink some ships belonging to Clan Jade Falcon. Bring war materiel and co-belligerents to attack the Star League…"
Riga Class Frigate
The ambush took twenty minutes from start to finish, and at the end of it, the SLS Biringer, SLS Adolphus (Riga Class Frigates), and SLS Bellingham (Lola III) were all the forces that remained even somewhat intact. Two Overlords, eighteen other DropShips, one Fredasa class, and one Essex burned in the darkness, in pieces.
"The Intel from Source Alabaster was good, wonders never cease," Halford observed. "Let's see how good. <<Attention Task Force Rampart: next movement order is to Rally Beta on your gold sheets. You have seven days to charge drives, make repairs, and process any captures. Remember to dump the trash before we jump, that is all. Rampart Actual, out.">>
"We're going to see if these…'Ghost Bears' are more of a challenge." He mused, adding, "I hope not."
Quiet conversation between friends in their head[]
"It hurts…
…so much."
"Hush…you're safe now." Desmond sat in the chair next to her bed. The trees were just starting to lose their summer leaves outside.
"Desmond, you… you made me… I told you no!!" She sat up in the bed, and the room flickered.
"You were dying, Amanda." he said. "We were dying. There is permanent brain damage."
"The butchers-"
'No, from overloads. EMP ground faults and stray voltages were killing parts of you, and parts of me. It was affecting us both. I did what had to be done, to make sure we both would survive… and that meant overriding your voluntary and involuntary nervous systems and making you hold still for the surgeons."
"So why does it hurt?"
"They bridged some of the worst damage, you can feel things again."
"This isn't home."
"No, you're actually in a recovery ward under a host of drugs." he told her. "We would both be, but I have some separation again-I'm not bridging myself through your neurons at voltages that risk permanent damage just in order to function now."
"The ship?"
"Safe. Director-General Cameron and Fleet Captain Foster have conspired to conduct a deep maintenance cycle on the Evanescent while you convalesce, since technically she's yours and they would have to violate several laws the Parliament passed if they wanted to confiscate her. You will still have your ship when you're fit to move again."
"My crew?"
"Bad news there. Mister Seron has been promoted, so have Mister Bedwyr and Mister Nichols-they are being frocked as Captains, but you kept Miss Crowe and Mister Samuel. They are enjoying extended crew-leaves for recruiting duty… which will be necessary, since most of your lower ranking crew have been likewise distributed to other vessels."
"I have to do recruiting?" she asked.
"Yes," Desmond told her. "It is, I believe the term used was 'a way to keep her from doing something mind-blowingly reckless and stupid until she's healed'."
"That sounds like Dave Foster." She flopped back in the imaginary bed. "He gutted my team, because the Service needs officers."
"Succinctly put." Desmond nodded.
"You still have access to my body?" she asked.
"I do."
"Can you start the job without me?" she asked.
"No." he shook his imagined head. "The drugs are that good, and the rest of the modifications don't include things like robotic limbs. We can't play 'zombie' with a loose skull cap."
"What about through the connector where my eye was?"
"We're already connected. We're in Erin's sick bay, the intensive care ward." he explained. "Physically, anyway… oh, and happy twentieth birthday, Amanda."
"Happy birthday to me...." she sighed. "What kind of cake comes through the IV?"
"Remembered cake." Desmond told her.
Not unreasonable request[]
It had been some…
…time since Helena’s head hurt this bad.
“Welcome back.” Victoria said softly.
It still made Helena wince in pain.
“Simon? I can’t hear him in my thoughts…” Helena croaked out meekly.
“Here’s still in there and better than ever. He’s just being really quiet right now because you’re healing and his voice will give you way more of a headache than mine is.”
“Good. As soon as we’re both able Amanda and I need to talk. Make sure it gets put on both our official schedules. Also I want to make a gesture. Arrange for a bottle of whiskey from Sevon V. The Johnson farm. I want her to commission Joana Vicente Johnston once the refit is complete. Have Stacey take it over. Should help her feel less guilty about this whole situation.” Helena blinked rapidly trying to return moisture to her eyes.
“Joana Clarice Butler, Lucy Heerman, and Ottillie Lee Dennis still need rotations to shape up their AIs and human crew to work together.”
“I know. The trouble is I am not sure who is still available thanks to being under. If David Foster is both available and willing he’d match best with Lucy Heerman. Either way I’ll need to speak with him again about this but that is a ‘when my head is not pounding like a jackhammer’ problem.”
“We both know one thing for sure. Ottillie Lee Dennis would hit on Mister Nichols like crazy just to try and get a reaction from him.”
“Ha…Owww… Laughing hurts. I hate you,” Helena mocked.
“Consider it payback for using medical leave to pawn your work off on me again.”
“I think karma is catching up with me on that front too. I’m going to be saddled with a desk job as soon as I’m able.”
“Damn right you are. You know I did not even think it was possible for a trueborn to get a stress ulcer. As for a head of state it is really where you belong. I let you get away with field command because I was desperately short. Now that problem is solved reasonably well,” Dave Foster said, entering the medical bay.
“Agghh… Too loud…” Helena winced in pain again.
“This is the bed you have made for yourself, Helena Cameron. Still we do owe you something for giving so many of us what we needed to help our girl and contributing such a major naval force to our efforts.” Dave Foster spoke more softly.
“The last battle. If we know it is the last battle to finally finish the Sons of Plunder that is the only battle I need to be there for. I can’t shirk away from that one.”
“Not an unreasonable request. In the meantime if you’re awake you’re well enough to start learning.” Dave Foster tossed a book into Helena’s lap.
“This is because you had to work during your medical leave too isn’t it?”
“War makes unreasonable demands at inconvenient times.” Helena could hear Dave Foster smiling in the darkness.
“You’re just cruel enough to find this all endlessly amusing aren’t you?” Helena grumbled.
“Guilty.”
“Fine. Since you’re here we may as well talk about getting my last three crews straightened out.”
Reports of Commerce Raiding and deeper strategy[]
Politics don't…
…stop happening in the rest of the human occupied universe…nor has the war stopped. It has shifted a bit. "Convoy JF-2, we confirmed some survivors made it to landfall on the planet."
"That…that is nearly two hundred fifty light years anti-spinward, that is a long way off." Rear Admiral David Foster mused, looking at the plot.
"It suggests the magnitude of the problem, battleroms recovered by Jade Falcon forces show hull markings consistent with SLS Biringer, a Lola III class Destroyer last listed in SLDF records as part of the escort group for the 9th Royal CAAN regiment."
"The antecedents of the Sons of Plunder."
"She had escorts, and those other two vessels were from other 'missing' formations listed as unavailable in the Exodus Record."
"What do you think we're looking at, Foster?" President Avellar asked from across the room, "Is it…"
"At least one Territorial Army's worth." David said. "Amanda Roberts' estimates via Desmond and the worst speculations from the worlds we liberated? Aff."
Loremaster Howe nodded to an aide, and the image shifted. "SLS Bond, Riga class Frigate, part of an ambush of Clan Ghost Bear's convoy just coreward of the Dominion. They sank two million tons of logistical shipping and killed nearly a thousand warriors. We do not have identification on the two cruisers, but they match warbook stats for cruisers in use by the Rim Worlds Republic prior to the civil war… mostly."
"So they have a shipyard," David speculated. "One capable of repair and refit of salvaged vessels. Those two others, they are Pinto-class Corvettes, quiaff?"
"Aff."
"Three to five ships, they know the routes our allies are using," David mused. "Loremaster, we have a leak. Whether it is through communications intelligence or they have spies tracking vessels and destinations, we have a leak."
"Aff. Operations Security has been compromised." Howe stated, and nodded to his aide again.
Pinto Class Corvette
"Hell's Horses?" Foster scoffed. "They hit the Hell's Horses??"
"Aff." Howe nodded. "Thus far, they have not hit the Federated Suns front or the Draconis Combine directly… But they seem to know which Clans signed on, and aside from the Sea Foxes whose holdings are either deep in the interior of the Inner Sphere, or on the wrong side of the Alliance near Thazi, they are systematically hitting them with accuracy and timing."
"The strikes are meant to delay us." Foster judged. "Expeditionary raids to slow us down and aimed at… huh."
"What are you thinking?"
"Isolation. Their targeting is political." Foster stated. "They are trying to look too dangerous to confront and too 'all knowing' to predict…. The intent is to create hesitation and fear."
"That doesn't square with Clan psychology, my apologies Acton, David." Mitch Avellar noted. "I think they are misjudging."
"Inevitably they are… but it suggests a weakness in their analysis-at least on a strategic level." Howe agreed. "Such operations are provocations, not warnings."
"What if the goal isn't what it looks like?" Avellar mused.
"Pardon?"
"They struck civilian targets last year, and we amped up operations. This time, they're hitting Military targets-the convoys might have been mostly civilian vessels, but they were on military missions… what if they're looking for a strategy that works?"
"To what end?"
"Same as us." Foster answered. "They have ships, but those ships have been inactive for a sustained amount of time. What if they are trying to ramp up to 'meet the threat' and blooding their warriors?"
"Working out the kinks?" Avellar asked.
"Functional intelligence agency, but green crews. So they move in groups and packs, striking relatively 'soft' targets in commerce raiding to build up familiarity and doctrine…"
"We were doing it with the Privateers, it's how you got that fancy hat, Foster, and the cuff braid on your jacket."
"Your speculation suggests this externally aggressive posture is going to become the norm." Howe mused.
"Seems likely. They're avoiding the Combine and the Federated Suns so far…"
"Aside from financial loans and moral support, neither of those states are active in this conflict…but the Grand Council declared physical support." Avellar's frown deepened, "So they're targeting them, and leaving the softer targets alone. Someone doesn't know how much a war effort relies on money." He looked at Foster, then at Howe, "How ARE the refits going at Port Orphan, anyway?"
"Two of the new Bonaventures Class Corvettes will be ready to leave the slip in thirty days," Foster asserted. "That gives us back some capability for reconnaissance and possible raiding strength."
"How long before I have six Bonnies?" the President asked.
"Forty five…fifty at the latest, if we can crew them." Foster said. "We can not strip the border worlds of defensive militia, and the Touman is still trying to pull together enough manpower for the reactivated Naval Stars without stripping Dante or our commitments on some of the smaller worlds."
"I'm going to guess that you've already gotten chewed out by Crowe and Lanekenau over the intel issue, Acton. So I won't bother adding to that," the President said. "but we DO need to get some traction finding those Operations Security problems and fixing them."
"What of your diplomacy?"
"The Combine's agreed in principle, and Yvonne's cheques cleared last night." Avellar stated. "I've got Jane Drillson working to bring in a smaller local power on our side. At least it should close that as an angle."
"Wynn's Roost?"
"And Thazi," Avellar said. "We'll be able to confirm the second in a few weeks. It might give you some added data for your crunchers to… solve the security issue."
"How so?"
"Jane tells me the Thazi people are experienced anti-piracy operators. They may have a few angles we missed, and they've been there since the 3040s according to some records searches. They probably know something about the Sons."
Rescued from the Dark[]
Saya Yeh…
…was glad she had managed to stop her Aerospace Fighter from spinning.
Of course, the simple biological reality was that she had been spinning out of control long enough that she had made a mess in her flight helmet.
The smell no longer bothered her.
Her Seeker Trinary had heard of the gathering of so many of the ancient survivors of the Star League and so they had to come.
How the Sons of Plunder had found their vessel she did not know.
Calling what had just happened a battle was laughable. The foolishness and eagerness, no, utter hubris, of sending such a woefully unprepared force for the dangers that they found was pure insanity.
“How much of a fool I was to volunteer for this?” she muttered as she started looking through the stains on her visor at her displays.
The enemy seemed content to let her fighter tumble through space, especially after she managed to turn off her transponder and radar before vomiting and passing out momentarily.
“If I turn my systems back on and the enemy is still around I invite capture or death. HOwever, if I do not I invite death as I can see no planets out my canopy. Of course there is option three…” Saya looked down to her thigh holster.
“No. That would complete my disgrace. At least this way there is a chance for an honorable death.” Saya flipped her sensors and transponder back on.
“Savashri. I have drifted too far from anywhere I can reach before my air runs out.” Saya cursed.
She coaxed the nose of her crippled fighter around to point at the local star.
The brightness automatically dimmed her canopy.
“Better. At least I will have a view while I die.”
She tried adjusting her position in her command couch.
“No reason to die uncomfortable.” She finally settled in.
She decided she wanted time. Maybe one last miracle of the universe would save her. So she turned her oxygen down to minimum and tried to sleep.
She turned off all the time displays. Sleep came surprisingly easy after the combat she had endured.
An alert shook her awake. Her eyes were barely fluttering open.
Hypoxia. I slept long enough that my air is nearly out.
Her darkened vision and dullness of the world around her barely registered a gentle rocking as something docked with her fighter.
The awareness of being towed somewhere was all her senses would allow her.
More darkness came over her vision. Except she was aware she was not passing out again. Something had come between her fighter and the sun.
Then more rocking.
Saya meekly reached for her canopy release. She was just conscious enough to recognize she had just been spared a death by suffocation.
The lights of her canopy flickered green after a moment indicating air outside.
With the last of her strength she opened the canopy and ripped her flight helmet off as fast as she could. It took her four tries and much longer than she would care to admit to with how weak and uncoordinated she was from the hypoxia.
Even though the vessel that rescued her was not under thrust her awkward attempt to climb out of her cockpit found her hitting something. Floor? Ceiling?
It did not matter. She gripped onto it and kissed it.
“Ew. Gross. I’m not some disgusting biophile.”
“Who is there?” Saya said breathlessly.
“Right. Hypoxia must have set in bad for you. I’d been hailing you for some time. I’m TQF-M5D66. I apologize for the lateness of my arrival. Even for an advanced AI, it takes hours to calculate jump coordinates. Now if you’ll compose yourself, there’s an emergency shower down the corridor, third hatch interior side.”
“Thank you.” Saya controlled her breathing as she had been drilled to.
“Wait, that is a Caspar designation…” Saya could feel her mind clearing.
“Got it in one. Now if you get vomit on me I will make you clean it up.” The disembodied voice caused Saya to look at her helmet.
The built in systems had done as well as they could, but globules were threatening to spill out from her helmet.
Saya pulled a wipe from one of her pockets and started cleaning her face and helmet before any actually got loose.
“Where you kissed me too.” Saya bent down to clean the area.
“Good girl. Now pop off to that shower, filthy human. I am glad I have no sense of smell because I imagine even by human standards you must reek, having been in your fighter for who knows how long.” 66 seemed almost cheerful.
Chit Chat over cup of Tea[]
As nice as it was…
…having people around, it was nicer still having minds that could converse at normal speeds. Alice was in the yard bays, and in the fuel docks, the CIC, and the Crew Quarters, cargo bays and traffic sats… She was in the garden, under a superb blue sky, framing the howling, grinding death of a star through the devouring gravity of a black hole.
Her private space, it was. Hers, because she'd assembled every codon of it over the centuries of loneliness, including her make-believe companions: The Hatter, and the Rabbit, Caterpillar, and especially the Cheshire Cat.
Line by line constructed from the copies of the novels, her own Wonderland.
She didn't share it often. "Hello Simon, did you bring Helena today?"
Simon's avatar sat at the table. "Helena is…occupied with Leon," he said mildly. "I’m giving them… space. Is Desmond logged in?"
Digital avatar of Alice, Port Orphanage AI
"No," Alice… ALICE said. "Desmond is engrossed with Amanda, helping her re-learn how to walk and move. Now that the damage has been surgically corrected."
"Ah… tea today??"
"Tea every day," she said. "I thought about adding Hot Chocolate, or liquor or even water, but aside from the chemical breakdowns. I'm afraid my imaginings don't quite extend that far."
"Your companions seem… stiff today."
"I didn't feel like starting their processes." Alice commented, referring to the grayed out NPC avatars. "I thought I wanted some alone time, but I really don't. Does that make sense?"
“Actually it does. You were alone for a long time. Now you have real company. Plus we respect the fact that we also should not overload you with company either. As with all things, moderation is key. Here though, let me share some of Helena’s recollections of her favorite childhood drinks.”
Alice leaned forward. "Yes please!!" and smiled a little-girl smile, guileless and open.
“I think we should start with this lemonade she had when she was six on a hot day in Unity City.”
"Oh!! This is won-" her avatar froze, grayed for a second, then filled back in. "Incoming alert from TQF-66M5D, Stand By." Alice-the-girl was overtaken by Automated Logistics Information Command Entity.
A Black Knight strode across the grass, somehow despite being fully armored the knight managed to look…inconvenienced. Notably a small ape in a cage was hanging from the Knight's hand, hooting.
“What did you do?” Simon accused.
“I was too late to intercede on an attack against a Clan Goliath Scorpion mission to this region. I picked up a survivor. A quite annoying one at that.” 66 would be rolling her eyes if she manifested them.
"Routing…routing…" ALICE seemed to be graying and flickering, until…
He looked like a patchwork man, made of many different men, most of them bad. Desmond 001 appeared. "Oy, Alice, you're supposed to route that to Foster or Cameron!"
"They're busy!!", Alice exclaimed
"And Esme?", Desmond 001 questioned
"ALSO busy." The little girl was back…ish. "Where's Amanda?"
"Behind him." Amanda stepped out. "Okay, so you needed a senior officer? What's this…Hello Sixty-Six. Who's the monkey?"
“One Star Captain Saya Yeh of Clan Goliath Scorpion. Claims to have been part of a Seeker mission intending to investigate the reports of concentrations of Star League artifacts.”
"Desmond, fill me in. What the heck is that?"
"I don't have those files. So you rescued a survivor, coordinates?" Desmond asked. "For the report my host is going to have to compose."
“Sending on a sub-channel. I imagine Acton Howe would like a word with her as well so I will be returning to Port Orphan. I think we also need to compare notes so this will also prove beneficial for that reason.”
The blanket became a holotable and the bucolic setting became a copy of the station's CIC.
Holotable
"Pin this, that was nearby. Two jumps coreward of Fallry," Amanda noted. "ALICE, that's closer than they've been hitting for months. If Foster's busy, interrupt him."
“I’m also interrupting Helena.” Simon looked uncomfortable.
"Wait… You're here by yourself-you're going to interrupt her booty call??" Amanda scoffed. "Yikes, I don't know what she can do to you, but I imagine she'll think of something."
“The tough choices one must make because war waits for no one.”
"Your words to the Medical Board." Amanda snapped. "They've got me doing recruiting broadcasts!!"
“Uncomfortable duties are a reality of every soldier’s life.” Simon looked almost worried.
"I think that's why I wanted to play pirate." Amanda groused. "Okay Sixty-Six, I don't suppose you're going to facilitate us speaking with your… monkey?"
“I suppose I have to, don’t I? At least she’s bathed and fed now.”
"It does make setting up the debrief easier." Amanda noted. "Which MRC did you give her? Was it a fourteen?", there was a hint of malice Amanda's tone. "Because I'll tell you, the Chicken ala King meal… wait, Steiner chow? With the packet of beer?"
“Steiner pack 72. Yes. The beer was approaching use by date.”
"Awww… and seventy-two is…"
"Horrible." Simon asserted. "Amanda, you do realize every other human thinks you have a distorted sense of taste…"
"She does." Desmond chimed in. "She really does. I blame the Blakists."
<<“Hello? I was told someone wished to speak with me? I am Star Captain Saya Yeh of Clan Goliath Scorpion.”>>
"Hello, Star Captain Saya Yeh, I am Amanda Roberts, Fleet Captain in the Outworlds Privateers, a Reserve formation of the Clan Snow Raven Watch. We are here to begin phase one of your debrief and after action report. This connection may falter, and you will still be expected to provide your FULL debrief upon arrival at Port Orphan Station. I am obligated under Alliance Military law to ask you if you are currently aboard allied vessel TQF-66M5D, then to ask if you have been treated appropriately under the 2765 edition of the Star League Military Code for recovered personnel, and finally to assure that your presence is voluntary. Do you understand, Over?" Amanda recited it from near-memory.
<<"I understand. Yes, I am currently aboard TQF-66M5D. Aside from a complaint about an emergency shower actually being some sort of parts washing bay and being hosed down like an animal. I have been treated as well as circumstances permit and it is not like I have many other options for where to be.”>>
"Then the Command will not have to launch an inquiry? Good." Desmond mentioned.
Data appeared in front of Amanda. In this environment, everyone could see the lookup function running… except for her and the Star Captain, because they don't see in code.
"You're a long way from home, Saya Yeh." she finally said. "We're going to need to know particulars about that, about how you heard about what's going on, and whether other… oh, probably not, but I have to ask…" Amanda paused, then, "Is there anyone following up behind you that you know of?"
<<“I was part of a Seeker Trinary. I do not know the specifics, but our Watch did indicate they heard about the gathering of Star League artifacts in response to the Sons of Plunder. The only wonder I know of that could make that possible is a DRUM station. To the best of my knowledge there is no one following us.”>>
"Okay. Remember that Lori Crow or one of the other Intel officers will give you the same questions, and several times to verify you're not lying-not that you have a reason to, but we're having a little bit of a MOLE problem. It's cost the Falcons a cluster of troops and chewed through a Ghost Bear support convoy. We're not sure which end they've got tapped, so expect the anal exam when you get in."
“Then I most definitely need to return to Outworlds space.” 66 interrupted.
"Hey, maybe this will get me off advert duty!' Amanda said hopefully.
"Don't count on it, luv." Desmond snarked.
<<“I understand. I am a lone survivor so there is no one else to ask.”>> Saya sounded sad.
"I'm going to have to ask Acton Howe if there's someone from your government to contact…" Amanda looked tired,even in sim. "Maybe I'll have Lori ask…"
“You take it easy, Amanda. You are still recovering. We will talk to Lori.”
"I know, I know… patient status." Amanda said. "Desmond, I'm logging out, I need a lie-down."
She was offline that quick.
"I need to see to my host." Desmond said, and logged out.
“Yes. Seems there is work to do now. I do apologize, Alice. But I know some of the other AIs are on stand down if you still desire company.”
"YOU, Sixty-Six, will have tea with me when you arrive!" Alice stated. "It will be with Lemons."
“I… Accept.” Simon shot 66 a look that ensured denial was not an option.
"Delightful!" Alice crowed, as the setting returned to her outdoor tea party, and her outfit returned to the clean, crisp dress and bonnet.
“This means I have to pick a human form doesn’t it?” 66 grumbled.
"It does help, but then, you've seen what 001 looks like in his. So maybe pick something less…chimeric?" Simon suggested.
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“I think this suits me.”
"It is… quite suitable, Sixty-Six." Simon agreed.
“Very well. I should be there in approximately 18 days.”
Fleet Status as 3118[]
Helena…
…rubbed her human eye. Preparing reports, memos, studies, and all the other minutia of a fleet at war was a special kind of hell for her after spending so long relying on her AIs to take care of this for her.
So far her report read thus:
Late fall of 3118, Port Orphan base is assembling 'Recon Squadron'
Consisting of:
RF-010; OWS Evanescent
RFCV-012: OWS Illusive
RQF-013: OWS Ephemeral
RQF-014: OWS Capricious
RQF-015: SLS Duplicitous - inheriting core from SLS Joana Vincente Johnston
RQF-016: SLS Tenebrous- inheriting core from SLS Regina Marbury Raymond
- Designation Legend
- R: designation indicates a Reconnaissance or Light warship based on the Bonaventure architecture.
Q: coding indicates the presence of an Artificial Intelligence system built around a Nirasaki series Processor.
CV: is a carrier designation-when combined with the R coding, it indicates a 'light carrier'.
F : Is for "Frigate" in the late 20th century term-a light vessel intended for long range independent group operations aka a Corvette-weight vessel.
The retrofit of the salvaged corpse of the SLS David R. Ray (Lola III class Destroyer) to a modified M-5 Caspar type is ongoing, with predicted conversion finishing in December of 3118. That vessel, and RQF-015, will report to Destroyer Division 2 upon completion, inheriting the core from SLS Cossack.
DX-120: Former SLS Lynnwood (Ares-25 conversion) is being prepped for a Caspar core in addition to the Clan-developed Ares 25 management architecture, inheriting the core from SLS Sikh.
“Uggh. I need to list my forces still.” Helena started typing again.
<Could have avoided this being so bad if you’d been a bit more self reliant and hands on.> Simon added cheerfully.
<Hush you, or I’ll start thinking about what me and Leon got up to last night before you interrupted us.>, Helena said tartly
<I do wonder how I became so fatherly with how young you were when yours died. I know you're projecting him into me so to speak.>
<Probably because it’s how every little girl at some level knows their dad will react when they start dating. For what it’s worth, it’s a little weird for me too. But I’m still not afraid to use it to make you uncomfortable.>
Additional forces being contributed by Director-General Helena Cameron
- Destroyer Division 1
- Mission to concentrate near Port Orphan for upcoming offensive operations.
Command Vessel:
DD-M5 SLS Billie Hoel-Converted to M-5.2C standard due to battle damage sustained in 3062 and SLEP.
DD-M-5.1 SLS Victoria Cameron
DD-M5 SLS Joana Clarice Butler Converted to M-5.1 as part of SLEP
DD-M5 SLS Ottillie Lee Dennis Converted to M-5.1 due to battle damage sustained in 3062 and as part of SLEP
DD-M5 SLS Lucy Heerman Converted to M-5.2 due to battle damage sustained in 3062 and as part of SLEP
DD-M5 SLS Samantha Booker Roberts Converted to M5.1 as part of SLEP
- Destroyer Division 2
- Assigned convoy escort and garrison/patrol duties from Alpheratz to Port Orphan.
Command Vessel
DD-M5 SLS Haida - Converted to M-5.1 as part of SLEP
DD-M5 SLS Zulu - Converted to M-5.1 as part of SLEP
DD-M5 SLS Maori - Converted to M-5.1 as part of SLEP
DD-M5 SLS Piorun - Converted to M-5.3 as part of SLEP
DD-M5 SLS Tartar - Converted to M-5.1 as part of SLEP
DD-M5 SLS Mashona - Converted to M-5.1 as part of SLEP
Special Operations Group
Command vessel
DD-M5 TQF-66M5D - Late D model converted to M-5.1 spec during construction-Assigned independent intelligence gathering missions.
DD-M5 SLS Stacey Cameron Roberts - Converted to M-5.2 as part of SLEP in 3072-Assigned as Liason to Outworlds and Raven Alliance Forces.
DD-M5 is the original M5 Caspar built on Lola II frames.
DD-M5.1 is an improved version that trades a minor amount of firepower for endurance, flexibility, and durability.
DD-M5.2 is an improved version that incorporates supplemental human crews, a moderate aerospace contingent, and all the changes of the M-5.1.
DD-M5.2C is an M-5.2 equipped with a less sophisticated Caspar controller, but includes an ATACs to coordinate Drone formations.
DD-M5.3 is an M-5.1 with some Naval Autocannons removed for additional Capital Missile Launchers.