Ansel Xavier rubbed his forehead tiredly, rubbing the sweat off. He felt oddly drained and weak, and standing was an effort. However, if the alarms were blaring in the palace itself, it was probably an issue requiring his immediate attention.
"This is...unacceptable..." He muttered, and reached for a shelf.
This was breaking one of the longest rules he'd had. The Oracles had taught him control, and any form of drug apart from liquid cardamine was prohibited in their training. So far, those tenets had held...but now there was no time. He reached for a bottle of pills, took two and swallowed.
The world swung for a few moments...and then his mind cleared, strength returning to his limbs and his body a powerful tool in the hand of his mind once more. He would concede victory this once. Never again.
**
"There's a large council fleet in Languedoc, preparing for an attack" Quétineau said without preamble as Xavier walked into the control room.
Xavier looked around. Quétineau and Bonheur were present, Bonheur pondering a large scale tactical map in the centre of the room. He was more concerned by those who were not here though. There was no sign of Baudin, or Goddard Lafayette. Last he knew, they were in the palace so they should've been present.
"Where are the others?" Xavier asked.
"Mathieu has already launched to join up with home fleet. As the Legion Tricolore head, he probably has more experience with commanding the home fleet than the rest of us..." Bonheur said.
"And Lafayette?"
"On the Chant Du Cygne, holding command in case some remnants of the council run to this system. We couldn't get in contact with Roux."
Xavier nodded shortly. It seemed like a sound enough strategy to him, although he'd have preferred to have commanded the situation himself. Baudin had showed no signs of being unreliable, but the element of doubt irritated him.
"I suppose we'll have to sit here and watch" Quétineau said.
Xavier took a seat besides the tactical map. This could take a while...
During Assault on the Chant Du Cygne.
"What the hell..." Xavier said.
A concentrated attack on the Chant Du Cygne, in Dauphine. Possibly a bid to disable the flagship, open the system up for a brief time until the fleets return...for what? They have no chance of holding a position, or even surviving. Unless.... Xavier thought furiously.
He had not expected this to happen. This is a collosal failure...damage control, NOW.
"Looking at the attacking fleet...There are Colonial ships and some from The Order..." Quétineau said, looking every bit as angry as Xavier felt.
Every time Xavier had heard "The Order" mentioned, it was from his benefactors...and the emotion accompanying it was pure anger.
"Sirian Terrorists. Class as enemy" was all he said aloud though. It was all that was needed in this situation...
"I'll take reserve wings and fly up to assist the flagship...unless anyone here has an objection?" Bonheur said flatly.
"None" Xavier said. Quétineau nodded impatiently, and Bonheur practically ran out of the room. One factor dealt with...
"I'll call Baudin, inform him of the situation...he should bring the fleets around as soon as the Council situation is dealt with. I'll also call headquarters in Anjou and tell them to sortie everything..." Xavier said, half to himself.
"Oui, crush the bastards. I'll help... For Gallia." Quétineau said, looking pleased at the prospect.
Montmelimar Base - Dauphine System
The Day of Fallen Grace
Extract from intelligence report by Agent Sage
I, Prudence, Raven and the other agents have our Nyxes and the Phoenix maintained and fully optimised. The Sharkteeth's cloak has been fuelled and its marines from the Vanguard seem to be in fighting order. Annikan Cartigenus on the Daedalus is ready to strike from the Isere cloud. The Order pilots have their Sekhmet complement in the same state, along with their handful of fighters. The Corse have been busy here and on their other bases, and have mostly been handling their distraction operations' own planning. D'Aramis' ONI forces have had little direct contact with us, but their agents are in place aboard the Chant, and they have a small strike force to assist in both planned assaults.
Our assault begins in thirty minutes, with the sun acting as a shield from scanners while we cross the system to the Chant's location.
This is the moment we have been preparing for; several days in Gallia, several weeks with this operation, and years of training for all of us, Colonial or no.
Hangar Bay Dix-Sept - Chant du Cygne
One hour later
We have broken through the escorts and are aboard the Chant du Cygne in the hangar captured by the ONI loyalists. It is quiet in here for now, but the fight still rages on outside. The Order have had ships damaged, we lost agents Daring and Betterment. The Phoenix is holding its own, but if it weren't for the Daedalus' tactics I doubt it'd be the same story. Another bout of quiet preparation, then into the fray of the corridor created to the command centre...
Somewhere onboard Chante du Cygne - Minutes after the Shuttle's Crash land on the hangar
Meanwhile, just a few minutes after his crash land on the Chant du Cygne, Forlorn and his team reached an intersection, a part where the corridor split itself into four different hallways, each going into separate directions.
Therefore, he had no other choice. He gave a hand sign back to his squad indicating them to halt and took a short break planning his next move. A risky decision as his loud crash would definetly alert the GRN which are no pushovers and his experience made him know that, but he couldn't risk running into a dead end either...
,, Varner, bring me the blueprints! The rest of you, cover the corridor! " He instructed his remaining companions as he peeked around each of the direction the corridor was splitting into
The next moment, Varner, approached Forlorn and took out a PDA from his backpack, after a push of a button, the PDA opened, and lighted up it's blue screen. Then, it revealed a schematic of what it appears to be a Valor.
It was actually the blueprint sketched by Forlorn out of his memory since when he served the Royal Navy, and the piece of intel the crew will rely on in achieving the objective. So, he grabbed the PDA and called a part of his team to join him letting the others to guard them. He then briefed them, pointing at various points of interest he sketched:
,, Bien, so... We appear to have landed here, and by the looks of it, should now be here." he said pointing his finger at an intersection.
,, The intel which we are seeking should be stocked into a main server which is in that room " he said drawing a path from their current position to the designated place.,, There is quite a distance between, mes amis, so I suggest that you should be prepared for resistance. As instructed, fire precise shots, shoot twice, and leave no survivors. In case we are outnumbered we should ... "
But before he closed his last sentence, a loud sound was heard coming from one of the corridors and the next second, one of the soldiers tasked with guarding them was sent crash down on the floor, with a hole between his eyes.
That was just the beginning of the storm as right after the now, lifeless body, a volley of fire followed.
The authors were a group of Gallic Royalists, five of them. It seems like they were sent to seek out what exactly happened in the hangar and they stumbled upon Forlorn and his team.
Being in their current position, they managed to run fast for the wall's cover in order to avoid the volley of bullets and blasters and take anymore casualties.
,, Sacre Bleur! We don't have enough time shooting them" Forlorn yelled.
,, They'll just come again wave after wave. You, throw a grenade! Urgent! " He ordered to the soldier in front of him which stood at the side of the other wall, opposite of Forlorn.
The soldier complied and he grabbed a shrapnel grenade out of his belt, he armed it, and after a quick peek from the corner, he threw the grenade right in front of the hostiles' feet. As if they got their tails tucked between their legs, the guards now ran for whatever cover they could find right before the grenade exploded, spreading shrapnel everywhere, giving Forlorn and his team the perfect occasion to get away from their cover and quickly finish their oppressors as they were trying to regroup.
As moments pass, time is becoming more and more crucial, the more it wastes, the less chances the team has in getting it's job done, and every member knows that.
With no hesitation, after they made their last kill, the team pursued onward heading for the room where the server is located
Ten minutes passed and they reached an arms depot, a large structure formed of two rooms, with dark rust coloured walls, divided by a thin metallic wall and an iron door. The depot stored a considerable amount of munitions and explosives, ready to blow up if any stray shot or bullet happened to hit them
,, Get your knives ready, monsieurs, we don't want to blow ourselves out " Forlorn said as he walked cautiously trough the stashes of munitions trying to anticipate any surprise attack.
The team shortly got to the door and after taking all the caution measures, Forlorn entered first and after he entered, he was surprised to see a Royalist aiming a long dagger, more like a short sword at him. He must have waited for them motionlessly and so, he wasn't heard by Forlorn.
In a matter of seconds, the Royalist carved a deep wound into Forlorn's right arm just before he could retaliate or evade, dropping his knife to the ground from the pain. The Royalist followed with a downward swipe, which Forlorn evaded by moving to the side, hitting a munition box with his shoulder. The Royalist position himself for a strike and Forlorn took the box, and threw it directly into the Royalist's face before he could attack, disorienting him. Given the opportunity, Forlorn pounced for his knife, which he grabbed with his left hand, and thrusted it directly into the Royalist's chest, killing him.
The team gathered around, watching the fight and awaiting for an opportunity to assist, they couldn't jump on the Royalist at the same time as they would have risked hitting each other but luckily, the job was finished. Forlorn’s wound was bleeding, but it wasn’t anything critical, though he wasn’t able to use his right arm properly now. The wound was quickly bandaged and taken care of by one of the team members.
Before they left the depot, Forlorn asked one of his squad members if he had any remote explosives on him. It was obviously a rethorical question as protocol dictates that in covert operations such as this, remote or timed explosives are a must in an agents equipment. Forlorn then ordered the soldier to arm the remote explosive in the depot and detonate it after they leave. This move would give the ONI onboard a helping hand as the Royalists’ access to weapons and armament would be hindered. After that, they left the depot trough a hatch, which apparently, connected the depot to a hallway which would lead them directly to the server’s core, just like Forlorn planned
Caution was invaluable here as they were closing more and more on the Royalist’s critical and most defended positions. Even so, the defence was light, as most of the Royalists were distracted with the trouble the ONI was causing them but, there was no room for assumptions here
Closing in on the objective, they reached another intersection, this time, they weren’t going to take the same mistakes. Forlorn leaned on the corner of the wall peeking in any direction looking for hostiles. His view was attracted by a platoon of Royalists, twenty of them, forming up and preparing for battle. There was absolutely no way his squad could take on a platoon of them and he knew that. Sweat was raining from his forehead as he was peeking at the platoon, and the rest of the squad was standing ready, weapons armed, hoping that they won’t come their way.
After forming up, the platoon took a different corridor and left for another course, it seems like the ONI was a higher threat. How convenient.
,, Tres magnifique...” Forlorn muttered as the final Royalist, at the last line of platoon, dissapeared together with the others, allowing the squad to continue it’s course for the objective
,, Come on, but keep quiet” Forlorn whispered back at his squad, he didn’t want to attract the platoon in any way
Three minutes later, the squad has arrived at the entrace which would lead to their objective. It was of course guarded by a number of Royalists which were quickly disposed with precise shots.
,, Take the bodies with us, they’ll unmask us if we leave them here” Forlorn ordered
The squad dragged the two bodies and entered the room where the server was located. It was a big room with thick walls coloured in a dark, blue metallic colour. The room housed a huge core connected to a terminal. It was exactly what they were looking for.
,, Quick! Varner, hack into the server! The rest of you, guard this place, we don’t want any surprises! '' Forlorn ordered his men as they were checking the room and it’s surroundings
Varner, the one responsible with hacking into the mainframe, took his PDA out, he powered it on and connected it to the terminal, the others quickly took any position and cover they could just in case any Royalist would think of barging into the room
,, Sir, the data is firewalled, I may not be able to get past” Varner said as he was trying to hack the information
,, Of course it’s firewalled, what would you expect!’’ Forlorn replied, frustrated by his soldier’s obvious statement. ,, Can’t you get past it?”
,, There are some data which is slightly less secured, I think I am able to copy those. What exactly do we need?” Varner asked
,, Nommes, List of Persons, Reports, Everything that will give us a clue about who exactly might be infected among the Gallic Ranks.'' Forlorn said
,,Understood” the hacker said as he was trying to get past the tight security and copy whatever he could.
Minutes were passing as Varner was trying to copy the information. Minutes in which, everyone could hear steps and platoons moving here and there on the other side of the door. It’s just a matter of ,,if and when” until one of them decides to check what’s wrong with the lack of guards guarding the server and enter.
,,Varner, have you finished yet?” Forlorn whispered as low as he could so that the Royalists outside wouldn’t hear him
,,Almost, sir, almost” he replied on the same tone.
Despite their silence and precaution, the door separating the server room from the hallway has been opened from the other side. It was a Royalist Officer who wanted to see where the two guards have dissapeared thinking that they have been slacking off again. The same two guards who were actually killed.
Fortunately, everyone hid when the door was read, behind the core, and whatever other hiding place they could find. The Officer didn’t bother looking for those ,,slackers” and so he left in the same manner he entered.
,,Varner, status!” Forlorn said as he was emerging from the shadows next to the door.
,,Wait a second, sir...Done! Everything’s finished. The data has been copied to my PDA and I’ve also sent them to the HC” The soldier replied with great joy
,,Tres bien! Now let’s get out of here!” Forlorn said
,,Sorry if I ask, sir, but, how do you plan on getting us out of here?” Another soldier said as he came from behind the giant core
,,Bon question” Their leader muttered
,,We’ll go to one of their hangars and try to hijack a ship and then get away from this wretched vessel” Forlorn said
The squad complied and the next second, they left the room, with the data stolen.
Minutes later, they arrived at a hangar.This hangar, unlike the other one, was bigger and defended, it had large wallas and a control room, on it’s walls the sign ,,Hangar Vingt” could be read . The squad got splitted into two teams, one responsible of hijacking a ship and taking control of it, the other, led by Forlorn, which was responsible of taking control of the Hangar’s control room and unlock the docking bay.
Still, other than a good number of enemies there was one slight problem. There was no ship in the hangar. And so, the squad had to wait for a ship to come and resupply and launch again for the battle. And so, they waited, adopting any shadow they could, trying to make themselves unseen from the guards in the hangar, waiting the perfect moment.
Their patience has been rewarded. Soon, a Lynx has landed for ressuplies, it has unsealed the hatch so that it will be ressuplied and checked for damages. This was the moment to strike.
,,Everyone, commence attack” The squad leader said through the radio giving everyone the signal to commence this plan.
A most crucial moment, as the squad of six Elite Order men are now engaging a platoon of Royalists in the hangar. The team tasked with hijacking the plane switched from cover to cover, from crate to crate, trying to dodge and change fire with the enemy getting closer and closer to their target. Meanwhile, the other team, rushed for the control room, which was located in the corner of their hangar, shooting anyone in their way.
A blood-gurgling sound of pain was heard as one of the order soldiers was shot down as he was trying to approach the control room. He could not be saved, as stopping in open field to drag him away would make the savior vulnerable thus, he died alone bleeding from bullet holes which targeted most of his vital organs. Precise shots. Not stopping for their wounded comrade allowed Forlorn and his other soldier to enter the control room, which was filled with technicians and a guard.
Forlorn grabbed his knife and sliced the guard’s throat before he could react, leaving the three technicians defenseless. He then coerced them into unlocking the docking bays. They, now defenseless, had no other choice but to comply and so the hangay bays were opened, but only for a limited duration. A duration which was exactly enough for the Order squad to escape, given the fact that they succeed. Right after, the two order agents in the control room have quickly disposed of the technicians. Forlorn couldn’t risk them to cause any problems. After the last technician’s chest exploded, the two then rejoined the other teams in the attempt to hijack the lynx.
After a long struggle dodging the Royalist volley of fire, the five Order agents have reached the Lynx’ hatch which is now slowly closing. An attempt made by the Pilots onboard in order to make this little hijack fail. An attempt which was made a little too late, the hatch was closing too slowly to stop the agents from getting onboard. In a blink of an eye, the pilots’heads splattered as they were shot and the agents have taken control of the lynx which is now undocking.
,, Sefegiru, Forlorn l’ici.” Forlorn talked through his communicator attached to his ear in an attempt to call Sefegiru ,, The operation was a success, we are now returning to space onboard a Lynx. We are undocking from Hangar Vingt...eh...Hangar Twenty. Announce our pilots. We don’t want to be blow up” Forlorn then closed transmission without waiting for reply and then, he assumed command of the Lynx. He really wanted to pilot the ship personally because for him. It was equivalent to a man returning to his childhood.
Soon after it made to space, the Lynx casually left the battlefield, dodging any stray fire from the friendly and hostile forces. When it got to a safe distance, the pilots on board remotely detonated the explosives found on one of the Valor's munitions depot, destroying it. The ship then cruised away to the Order’s Rendenvouz Point and made itself unseen. The operation was a success.
(08-10-2015, 07:03 PM)Antonio- Wrote: King Eduard is the greatest
"Sir, Colonial Marines have landed!"
Clement nodded, firing another burst down the corridor. "Tell them to hurry up. We need to get to the sabatoge points ASAP!" He said. "Mathieu, grenade!"
Complying, a soldier tossed a grenade down the hall, and with a bang, three Royalists got to meet their maker. The rebels were doing their best, but they needed those Colonial Marines here now.
"Teams, report."
"Barely holding on. Choke points are making it easy, but we're gonna run out of ammo soon."
"Sacrebleu." Was all Clement said.
Acadia rolled her shoulders, picking up a second gun and firing it as well. "Eglantine Actual, we're doing out best. Be ready."
"Eglantine Actual copies."
Acadia gritted her teeth. "Bernard, feels like Le Mans again, doesn't it?"
"Except we didn't have as much backup ma'am!"
Acadia laughed, continuing her onslaught. "True!"
The General felt cramped; the bridge on this ship was small, and the captain's chair was just a hard steel frame. However, he sat patiently, watching the helmsman set the ship to dock with the jump hole. After they jumped through, he asked the pilot, "Raoul, are there any signs that the fight has begun?"
"There's nothing blaring over the system comms, sir," the man replied.
"Right, proceed to our destination," ordered Logarus. As they slowly powered up to cruise speed, he couldn't help but think of what to do if they were caught. The situation could be easily explained and dealt with if it happened before, but after they finished, that would be much harder to do.
Some time passed before they arrived to the trade lane ring. Fortunately, there was no one on their scanners. Raoul maneuvered their vessel into position, then spoke over the intercom, "Crew, begin the set-up."
Logarus listened to the sounds of robotic arms and cargo deployment while he watched the lane become more of a ... fatal road block. When it was finished, Raoul set coordinates for a different jump hole. Attaining cruise speed yet again, the General grinned, for they hadn't been caught.
"General, we're just in time. The alerts from New Paris have just gone out," stated the pilot.
Grinning again, he responded with, "Excellent news, I'm sure that Operation Mickey Mouse will help Fallen Grace to be successful."
"You see what your knowledge tells you you're seeing. ... how, what you think the universe is, and how you react to that in everything you do, depends on what you know. And when that knowledge changes, for you, the universe changes. And that is as true for the whole of society as that is for the individual. We all are what we know, today. What we knew yesterday, was different; and so were we."
- James Burke, The Day the Universe Changed (1985)
With a rousing bit of gunfire, the Colonial Marines broke through the siege of the bridge and made it to where Acadia and Bernard were.
"You the Gauls we were sent to assist?"
"Oui. Acadia Celeste, Office of Naval Intelligence. I am coordinating this assault at the moment." She said, firing another barrage out. "I need this point held by you; then I can take my team and move to sabotage the engine room and other critical points."
With a nod, the Colonial Marines took positions. Acadia motioned to Bernard and her specialists. "Let us go now! The Marines here will hold the line!?"
With that, Acadia Celeste and Bernard Clement dove into the fray, cutting a path through for their specialists. The highly trained ONI Operatives were lethal vectors, and soon enough the team was through and running.
"Eglantine Actual, the Marines are defending the bridge. Heading to points Alpha, Beta, Gamma, and Delta, Over."
"Eglantine Actual copies. Preparing to rendezvous with Vanguard Ships Sovereign and Rubicon as planned."
"Roger that." She said. Acadia then looked to Bernard.
"Split up?"
"Oui."
The two split up, each taking half of the team. Acadia ran towards the engines as Bernard went to take out life support.
"This is Clement to all Colonial Marines. We are preparing to take out Life Support in...twenty minutes if nothing goes wrong. Be prepared."
With that, the man ran faster.
The Bridge - On-board Chant du Cygne
The Day of Fallen Grace
Some say "hope is just a waking dream"... And so it is true, for this day was the most vivid dream the Colonials could imagine, the day when the war may end.
The marines just received the message from Clement. Life-support was about to go, but luckily all was planned. They already had equipped the needed suits to resist, all they needed now was to hold their position from the Gallic royalists.
Strangely enough, all seemed quiet for a moment; the only sounds were those of gunfire, echoing from far away, most likely coming from where Acadia and Clement were clearing up their paths to the Chant's critical areas. In contrast, the small windows of the ship appeared to glow as the lights from the outside battle randomly strayed about.
Soon, movement could be heard. Another wave of Gallic soldiers was approaching the bridge with haste. One of the Colonial squad leaders nodded to the rest and looked at the door, making a sign for them to cover the entrance. Two marines quickly readied their rifles and took positions on the door's sides.
One second later, a gaul sprinted trough the entrance, firing random shots as if he thought the room was full of people. One of the marines swiftly shot him in the head, ending the noise for another moment. The gaul's sacrifice was obvious, yet respectable; he forced the door and broke trough, revealing the Colonials' numbers to the rest of the Gallic troops.
But, silence is a source of strength, for it does not prepare the body, as much as the mind. The Gallic royalists began to storm forward at the entrance, shooting trough while the Colonials soon retaliated, standing their ground and holding the bridge room away from the gauls' control.
"In the name of the Republic... today we shall hold our ground like never before!" Sentry shouted, and just as quickly, the others replied with valor: "So say we all!"
The fight continued, as of now, on several key points on-board the Chant du Cygne, as well as outside it.
Bridge of the Epee II
3 hours after "Falling Dove" Distraction commenced
"Commandant, trouble."
2 hours after the battle aboard the Chant du Cygne had begun, the crew aboard the Epee II and Epernon Station were still hard at work disrupting long-range communications and traffic. The false 'Council Warfleet' in Dauphine had ghosted their way to Gap Station, civilian flight-comms and news networks were broadcasting advertisements for the latest in efficient petrochemical fuels and children's Holo-net shows, and word had recently been received aboard the Epee II of the second Corsican distraction, "Mickey Mouse", being put into action.
But the teams were exhausting their effotrs quickly, and Military and Police forces were slowly beginning to realize something was wrong.
Maxim walked over to Jaques' console, wiping his brow before asking for a situation report.
"Communications from Gap Station have begun leaking out that the Council 'warfleet' was a false call, the forces deployed to Dauphine are being ordered to the defence of the Chant and new Paris."
"How many did we manage to draw into the system?"
"Only Trois Medium regiments," Jaques replied." It's only a matter of time before they discover where our signals are coming from."
Three Obstinate patrols is still quite a number...
"Start terminating the links, burst transmissions." Arek looked towards the rest of the ship's crew. "Do what you can to fake the signal bounces from the Privas Cluster towards the Franche-Comte jumphole and prep the ship's engines. Epernon team," He turned towards the main comms monitor. "Is the virus ready?"
Freya barely moved, her eyes glued to her command console aboard the station through the screen.
"You certainly asked a lot of us, Commandant Maxim. Despite having to multi-task the Neural-Net chaos with programming a Hypnotainment-based virus, we've managed to succeed. It'll only work on fighter communication systems, but it should make for a fine display of the Royal Navy's "Piloting skill".
A slow, mischevious smile spread over Arek's face.
"Merci for your efforts, madame et messieurs. Rest assured your bonuses have already been prepared, I'll give the go on when to broadcast the virus."
Arek checked his slip of paper, crossing off Falling Dove and Mickey-Mouse before pausing to look at Faciliter Desordre. While the waste of potential profits on the final diversion were necessary, he wasn't happy about it. Mickey Mouse, that one would be a disastrous, unavoidable collision if the placement was correct. And the Doves in their Lynx fighters would soon be falling from the sky in a trance, mimicing the effects of Holo and Hypno-tainment bands once the software virus was deployed.
He pocketed the list and opened a private comms channel to his wife, back in Tau space.
My dear Selan,
Things are going to be getting a bit crazy up here, so try to keep a low profile while you're collecting trophies. Do let me know how much of the fallout reaches your ears over the public networks if you can, however; I'm sure you'll find some of it quite hilarious.
-Arek
"Commandant, we're picking up minor tracing attempts on the comm hacks."
Arek grinned. "Deploy the virus, power up the engines and sever the connection to the Neural Network. We'll be going dark and heading for safehouse 14, burst-signal a message to the key players with our status and the safehouse locations." He turned to sit on the Captains' chair.
"Oh, and tell the Epernon team they're welcome to a holiday on Marseille."
Casual Flier: Returning Player. Forum-PM me if you require my attention
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