Application

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Diggledom
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Application

Post by Diggledom »

I am trying to get into some form of decent FT rping, so I thought I should probably apply to join.

I havent got a factbook yet, mainly because ideas are still changing pretty regularly in regards to the background. But I am ready to have a shot at some of the scenarios.
The Cerberus Alliance
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Re: Application

Post by The Cerberus Alliance »

Well, it would be nice if we could have a little background to build on for your test. Even if it is going to change eventually. It makes it easier on the tester who will be handling you soon.
This won't end well.
Diggledom
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Re: Application

Post by Diggledom »

Okay, the little odd bits I have at the moment.

Instead of a typical empire, I was planning on having a protectorate system, where there is a central command structure, though individual planets and even countries will have a certain degree of autonomy. The exact degree is debateable, as they are likely to find that things seem to go against them if they decide to do things that the Protectorate government don't want them too.

They use a variety of different methods to influence planetary governments, but always have the fall back of threatening brute force, usually they try and be a bit more subtle though.

FTL travel is a recent discovery, not an overly safe method of travelling through the universe. Instead they use FTL communication with a digital encoding of the human mind, based unashamedly off some of Richard Morgans work.

Most of the technology comes from a wide variety of sources, including but not limited too: Richard Morgans books, EVE online, GURPS traveller, GURPS Transhuman Space, Neal Asher books and my own slightly twisted imagination.

I would imagine it being a relatively small empire, a couple of dozen systems, but the exact number is hardly set in stone.

Like I said, it is still quite heavily work in progress, so it is likely to be a bit eclectic in technological background.
Otagia
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Re: Application

Post by Otagia »

Test #1
A rogue general has taken control of one of your fleets, and is rallying support to his cause. All told, he now commands a third of your forces against you in his attempt to seize control of the empire. While he is outnumbered, you cannot afford to pull troops from Protectorate states or your borders for risk of rebellion.

After a brutal campaign, he has finally reached striking distance of your home world. RP the climactic battle!


An aside, unrelated to this test: What's your nation's stance and capability with AIs at the moment? Unfortunately I haven't had a chance to read much of your source material, so I'm largely unfamiliar with your tech base.
Stercus stercus stercus Moriturus Sum
Diggledom
The Mindset's Bitch
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Name: Diggledom

Re: Application

Post by Diggledom »

Sorry for the delay, got accepted on a last minute two week training course., so just got a chance to say I am not ignoring you!

Ummm Ai is present, very different from Human minds though, more complex and usually more specialised, but widely accepted. If you only read one or two books from my background, the Kovacs books by R Morgan or pretty much any of the Neal Asher ones are the ones I would recommend.

I will put a post up when I get a chance. Just thought it was worth letting you guys know I wasn't ignoring you.
Diggledom
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Re: Application

Post by Diggledom »

Vigilance – Shield Class Space Defence Platform
Solar System – 50 AU orbit from the Sun

The first sign of the impending attack was a slight change in the local gravity field, assessed and then automatically ignored by the machinery. The slight change in the gravity field had been caused by a pair of objects dropping out of jump space. Each of the objects was a small jump generator, attached to a small stealth engine. They both edged through space, their reactionless drives gently guiding them towards the massive space defence platform. They were both less than 2 meters in diameter, manufactured with the latest in stealth designs.

The first person to recognise the danger that they were in was one of the sensor technicians. The sensors had picked up a sudden build up of energy, but by then it was too late. The first generator powered up, instantly transporting a massive bite of the defence platform into jump space. Throughout the platform bulkheads slammed closed, airlocks sealing the various sections in. The platforms had been designed to withstand wide scale damage, but even so, the sudden loss of so much atmosphere, as well as the damage to the surrounding structure caused by the sudden venting to deep space had stretched the limitations of the damage control system. Alarms were sounding throughout the platform, technicians and soldiers waking up to red lights, screaming sirens and the general panic that came with a completely unexpected attack like this. Barely a minute after the first generator jumped out-system with a large portion of the platform the second generator activated, this one in the crater that the first generator had caused. This second generator completely gutted the platform, jumping out-system with almost the entire inner structure, the generators, the bridge and a large proportion of the platforms munitions.

The sudden loss of the communication feed from the defence platform was noticed immediately, as it dropped off the defence grid operating in the solar system. Due to the recent rebellion a pair of cruisers were automatically dispatched, but no-one believed that General Amundsen would actually be foolish enough to attack Earth itself; it was put down to a comm. system error, comm. systems failed on occasion, it was simply a fact of life. The two cruisers that were dispatched were chosen as they were the fastest vessels in the solar system, a pair of Aurora Class patrol cruisers. The Aurora class fitted the cruiser designation perfectly; they were designed to be fully self sufficient for an extended patrol, their high speed meaning usually they were deployed outside the Solar system, the only reason they were in system was the refit that they had just gone through.

They both had a full crew, 690 people all told, a mix of experienced and inexperienced crew. The higher ranks were all experienced crew members, the section heads and entire command staff of both vessels were veterans from the frontline of the rebellion, all redeployed from the dreadnaught “Bravery� who had limped back to Earth having been the only survivor of the largest battle of the rebellion so far, the battle for Ilsa.

Bravery had jumped back in system, heavily damaged, the only survivor from a full battlegroup. Leaking atmosphere, leaving a trail of debris behind it; the return flight was already the subject of a tri-d thriller. The bearer of bad news, the rebellion had spread further and faster than had been expected, entire squadrons defecting to join General Amundsen and his forces, the Bravery had reported insurrection among the crews of the battlegroup, a mutiny starting just minutes before the Generals forces dropped into real space, slaughtering the still loyal ships and sending boarding teams to help the mutineers.



Spur – Aurora Class Patrol Cruiser
Solar System – 50 AU orbit from the Sun

Commander Fuhrmann scowled as he watched the holographic display show the two cruisers slow approach to where the defence platform should have been. Long range sensors had already picked up on the floating hulk, the massive damage clearly shown, their approach slowed by the caution caused by the visible destruction that had already been sown. He looked around his bridge, catching the eye of his communications chief.

“Open a channel to the Delight, full encryption. Route it directly to my office.�

The communications chief looked up, he was one of the experienced crew members, having worked with the man who was now his commander for nearly ten years. He trusted him absolutely, even with the situation as bad as this was quickly becoming. He nodded once and began to arrange the communication link.

Commander Fuhrmann sat down in his office, sighing deeply. The comm. link opened with the face of Lieutenant Commander Morton of the Delight, the younger officers face heavily scarred, flash burns having changed his once normal appearance to a nearly immobile mask, surgery would fix it, but he had simply not given himself the time required for the surgery. His face twisted into an approximation of a grin,

“Ralf, you finally ready to get this show under way?�

Despite himself Fuhrmann found himself grinning in return, there was something about seeing his old friend, someone that had lived through the same battles, survived the same accidents and was still standing that always made him feel more content, happier with the situation, whatever it was.

“I am. What about you?�

“As I ever will be, lets do this then.�

Fuhrmann nodded, cutting the comm. link and starting the record function of his console.

“I am Commander Ralf Fuhrmann, the Captain of this vessel. Some of you have served with me before; for some this is the first step in what I hope will be a long and rewarding career in the Protectorate Defence Force. As you may know, our mission has been to check in with the defence platform Vigilance and to ascertain the reason why they haven’t been in communication with Earth or the rest of the defence net.
The politicians didn’t believe this could be an attack, so they have only sent two vessels to check why a defence platform, with its thousands of crew and hundreds of weapon systems may have stopped transmitting. Normally this would be the first of hundreds, if not thousands of betrayals forced upon those of us who serve the Protectorate by the politicians. The lack of funding, the lack of supplies, the lack of training, ignoring our advice, the breathtaking ignorance demonstrated by politicians across the Protectorate when it comes to the men and women serving the Protectorate, laying our very lives on the line. Enough is enough I say! I have held colleagues in my arms as they have died, due to the very lack of training and equipment we have advised them about. I have seen funding for vital equipment cut so that a politician could look good for the press.
No longer! General Amundsen experienced the same betrayals as the rest of us, he led us in campaigns to have our voices heard by the politicians, we marched, we voted, we explained our views and we were ignored. General Amundsen spoke out publicly and for this he was disciplined for bringing the service into disrepute. Those of us who have served on the front line, away from the self publicising politicians and the glitz and glamour of the Presidential guard will know what I mean when I say; I have had enough! Too many betrayals to count, too many times I have been let down by the very people that look to me to protect them, by those I look to for my support.
If you don’t wish to follow my example, so be it, but I will not tolerate anyone acting against me. If you don’t want to follow my orders then report to the brig, but if you begin to act against me then I can guarantee that you will end up dead. Make your choice, I have made mine.�

He finished speaking and stared straight into the camera for a second before stopping the recording. He was reasonably confident that most of the crew would follow him, but he was definite that the section heads and the rest of the veterans would join him. He had never asked them out right, but had spent enough time with them, in enough bars, spread through the Protectorate to be confident of his judgements about his men.

The new recruits were the ones he wasn’t so sure about; they were yet to witness the harsh realities that were included in his heartfelt speech. Even so, they appeared to respect and trust the more experienced members of the crew, he simply hoped that the bonds that formed between crewmembers would be enough to make them trust his judgement.

He sighed, what was done was done, no amount of second guessing his decisions would do him any good. He opened one of the storage lockers mounted on the wall and withdrew his personal sidearm, a standard issue Protectorate Navy Gauss pistol, still in its regulation issue thigh holster. He carefully attached the holster, hanging it on his right leg, over his duty suit. As soon as he was confident that it had been properly fitted he reached back into the locker, this time removing something that certainly wasn’t standard issue, at least, not to a Commander in the Protectorate Defence Forces Fleet arm. It was a modified Protectorate Marine Gauss SMG; it fired the same ammunition as the pistol, though from a larger, 50 round, magazine. Due to the extreme rate of fire that it was capable of it had a built in gyro-stabiliser and a small data point, so that it could be linked to a HUD if one was available. The one that the commander was holding had also had a reflex sight added to it, as it had been designed to be used ‘dry’ with no other electronics to support it.

He pushed the magazine into the feed mechanism until he heard and felt the weapon lock onto it. With a quick movement he fed the first of the 4mm darts into the chamber and then rested the SMG on the desk in front of him. He checked his watch, just over a minute to go before he was due to release his speech to the crew. He cast his mind back, across the faces of the crew that he had served with before.

Doctor Jenna Harkin, her face partly obscured by her long hair, laughing over a vibrant green drink. Where had that been? Some dive bar somewhere, Egeriz! That was it, one of the spacer’s bars, just outside the Fleet base. He had told some terrible off colour joke and she had burst out laughing, the both of them still young in service, part time lovers, but prepared for the inevitable break-up when they were posted to different crews. She had died less than a year after that, posted to one of the older Trajectory Class frontier ships, still in use, despite the well known problems with their jump drives. She was pronounced lost in space, along with the rest of the crew, when the ship didn’t re-emerge after a routine jump.

Cadet Hansen Thygesen, originally from Denmark back on Earth, sitting in the cockpit of the fighter that would one day kill him, the Cobra already bearing the hand painted patterns and shapes that he had done himself, seven hours of dedicated effort. During one of the routine training flights his starboard engine had flared out, sending him spinning across the sky and finally dumping him at nearly three times the speed of sound into the side of a mountain. There hadn’t been enough of him left to put in a coffin; they had to weight it down with a metal frame for the funeral.

The faces began to speed up, just flashing through his minds eye. Kara O’Brien, another from his cadet intake, died during a skirmish on the rim of the territories. Archie Sutton, Michael Whitehead and Teodros Efrem, all dead for some pointless peacekeeping action, their ship bracketed by both sides when their captain forced his way into something that hadn’t concerned him. The faces continued to accelerate, before they were just blurs.

He wiped his eyes, pushing his sadness back inside, replacing it with the cold anger that he had been living with for what now seemed like years. His watch beeped once, the slight electronic tone seeming to echo through his mind. He reached out and hit the button that would transmit his speech throughout the ship, his face appearing on every communication screen, his voice echoing from the public address system.

Fuhrmann needn’t have worried, although there were some of the crew who didn’t agree with his idea, when they realised that all the senior staff, the entire of the security section and the ten man marine detachment onboard all supported the commander they surrendered without a fight, giving in to the inevitable.

The two cruisers stayed on station, observing as in front of them the space was torn as ship after ship made the transition from jump space to real space, emerging in the home system; ready for what they hoped would be the final battle of the rebellion.

The first ship-to-ship battle in the Solar system occurred three days after the Generals fleet jumped in system, his forward picket engaged and destroyed a loyalist corvette that was in the deep system protecting a mining facility. The battle took slightly over three hours; the outmatched corvette launched the initial attack, a spread of high yield missiles fired towards the lead frigate. The flare of their older, reaction based, thrust systems attracting the attention of the vessel straight away. The missiles were casually swatted by the Frigate, the corvettes feeble attempts at jamming and electronic warfare easily ignored by the larger frigate. The frigate launched its own attack, massive beam lasers stripping great swathes of the corvettes armour off, before breaking its spine with a pair of anti-matter warheads, delivered by the frigates railguns.

As the fleet advanced in system they began to spread their tendrils, fighter squadrons slipping out to launch specific raids, cutting the communication systems that linked the defence network together. Occasionally a couple of vessels would slip away, with their supporting fighter elements to stand guard over the larger colonies spread through the solar system. By the time the fleet reached Earth the entire solar system expected what came next.

The battle for control of the solar system was not the high octane, adrenaline filled space battle, so beloved of entertainment producers throughout the Protectorate, instead it was characterised by a series of skirmishes, some deep in-system, but most isolated stations or bases spread through the outer reaches, each with their guard ships, usually a corvette or two. Most of the vessels in the Solar system were quickly pulled back to defend Earth itself, spreading themselves neatly in orbit, presenting their most dangerous weapons to the oncoming secessionist fleet.

The secessionist fleet was less than a third of the total Protectorate Space Defence force, but the fleet was more than large enough for the task that faced it. The rest of the Defence forces were spread through the Protectorate, having to remain in place to counter the threat of further rebellions, so the only loyal forces deployed in system were the aging guard ships and the Presidential Guard Squadrons. The guard ships presented no real threat, but the Presidential Guard were always the best and latest equipment and manned exclusively by people intensely loyal to the Protectorate. The only weakness that was obvious was their recruitment procedures. Unlike with the regular Defence forces, to become a member of the Presidential Guard you had to be connected somehow, sons and daughters of politicians, administrators, high-level bureaucrats, so on. This meant that they never went into dangerous situations; this would be the first time they would actually have to go up against anything that might actually be able to threaten them.

The final battle, in the orbit over Earth was witnessed by everyone on the planet. Waves of missiles were exchanged; hyper-velocity missiles swatted from the sky by bursts of coherent light, autocannon rounds cutting through missiles. Both sides took casualties, the better equipment almost matching the skills and dedication of the veterans, but the end result was never really in doubt. The Guard squadrons were outnumbered and outgunned, trying, desperately to defend a fixed point in space; they were faced by a larger, better trained, more experienced fleet, who were free to manoeuvre, with enough vessels to ensure that none could be picked off individually, enough to let them swarm the enemy defences, to launch enough missiles to ensure that some made their way to the targets. It took almost two weeks for the battle to finish, debris falling to the surface as the Guard ships were slowly demolished.

As soon as the Guard Ships began to engage the Ground Forces began to deploy, spreading out from their bases, deploying mobile planetary defence batteries and digging in. Each battery consisted of eight weapons, each of the massive particle cannon systems being made up of four vehicles, the cannon itself being transported independently, there was also a large sensor vehicle doubling as a command vehicle, a defence vehicle and a large generator truck. Each gun was accompanied by a platoon of mechanised infantry, forty soldiers and five armoured vehicles. They spread across the world, digging in, camouflaging themselves as best they could from orbit.

Staff-Sergeant Lauren Craig had joined the secessionists after fighting through a number of skirmishes along the borders, as far as she was concerned they had been caused by the Politicians back home, and so they were directly responsible for the death and destruction that had followed. She was sitting in the troop compartment of one of the landing ships, surrounded by the rest of her company. Each of the troopers was ready for the drop, armour already on and weapons stowed, and all that remained now was the waiting. The insertion ships weren’t designed with comfort in mind, they were designed around the drop capsule racks, the transported troops boarding directly onto the launch deck, squaring all their kit away, before being allowed to relax and spread themselves around the deck. In ideal situations they weren’t meant to be on the deck for longer than a few hours, but this was hardly a routine situation. For the past few days the secessionist fleet had been launching drone missiles to engage and destroy the Loyalist tracking stations, but they weren’t confident that they had got them all and the larger ships were too valuable to risk, at least initially. They had chosen to launch the insertion vessels instead, letting them slowly slide up to the planet, before deploying their decoys and troops into the atmosphere.

The plan revolved around the elimination of the Earth based planetary defence system. It had long been accepted that anyone with true space superiority around a planet would win, either by inflicting so much damage that the world capitulated, or simply with the threat of the damage. General Amundsen had planned for this; the Rapid Interface Battalions were the key to his plan. As each insertion ship arrived in orbit it would deploy a number of decoys, all at approximately the same time across the orbit. If the enemy troops were deployed as per standard procedure their weapons would be on automatic, meaning they would begin to engage what they perceived as targets. By doing this they would give away their positions, allowing the Interface Battalions to engage and destroy the defence grids, winning the battle for the General.


The ship containing Staff Sergeant Craig had been deployed over England, monitoring an area over the middle of the country. The decoys were released during the night, which was almost instantly lit by three separate firing points across England, one along the south coast, falling outside their operations area, the second was pretty much from the centre of their area, the third being further up north.

The sensors quickly locked onto the energy bursts being released, multi-spectrum scanners pulling in as much information as could be gathered from a distance. Each of the drop pods had a briefing computer fitted so, as the troops pulled themselves into the pods, they attached themselves to the pod itself via neural link.

As each solider stepped into their individual drop pod they connected themselves first to the pod, via a small neural jack and then began to strap themselves in. As soon as the crash web had safely cocooned them they activated the pod itself via the neural link. The pod itself was run by a virtual intelligence, designed to be able to take the pod out of orbit, through defensive fire and land at a specific point on the planet surface. While the pod was deorbiting, the soldier inside was fed the briefing information through a full neural link, meaning that when he emerged from the pod he was fully briefed, saving time and effort for those missions that required rapid deployment and limited time for briefings.

The launch went without a hitch, the 122 man company being launched in less than a minute. As well as the manned pods decoys were launched as well, a mixture of sensor jamming systems and pods designed to split as they entered the atmosphere, presenting the ground forces with hundreds of extra targets. The decoys were designed to be more important targets, appearing larger on radar scans, warmer on thermal scans and generally more enticing than the normal drop pods. The elaborate designs weren’t needed in this case; repeated passes by the secessionist fleet had eliminated the fixed air and space defence weapons, leaving only the mobile systems in one piece, but mostly too scared to mount any effective defence.

Staff Sergeant Craig emerged from her pod less than a second after it had landed, the training having drilled into her the requirement to move away from what was sure to be a target as soon as possible. Her armour vest was tightly cinched, done up so that it wouldn’t shift, however much work she did. Over the top of her vest she had arranged the modular pouches, magazine pouches, grenade pouches and even pouches for the various electronics that had become commonplace on the battlefield. As well as the armoured vest itself, she was wearing the extra armour components, drop down thigh and shoulder pads. She was carrying the standard weapon for the Rapid Interface Teams, the M3 Individual Combat Weapon; a dual purpose weapon, designed with the requirements of the Interface Teams in mind, the primary system was a 4.73mm caseless rifle, with a secondary 16mm grenade launcher, fed from its own five round magazine. Heavier weapons were spread through the rest of the company, a mixture of machine guns, missile launchers and other weapon systems.

The platoon came under fire almost immediately, their pods had been aimed at a slight depression, so that they would be able to deploy without instantly coming under fire, but it was expected that they would need to enter combat as soon as they were able, so they had been expecting nothing more. Two squads took to the lip of the depression, firing out towards the enemy, while the other squad skirted out, trying flanking out and around the enemy positions. It took slightly longer than they initially expected; four hours worth of brutal fire fight before they managed to silence the orbital battery. The concerted attacks had done the job, breaking the back of the orbital defence systems.


The battle for the Earth had been won.
Diggledom
The Mindset's Bitch
Posts: 11
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Name: Diggledom

Re: Application

Post by Diggledom »

Sorry about the delay, I am back near a computer again and hopefully shouldnt be so far away again for a fair while. I got the post up, but like I said before, even as I was writing it I was changing little bits of the background, so it is likely to change with each of the different tests that I complete.
Diggledom
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Re: Application

Post by Diggledom »

Bump?
Otagia
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Re: Application

Post by Otagia »

Sorry about the delay, real life has been kicking my ass rather well lately, and everyone else is lazy. I'll have a second test up tonight.
Stercus stercus stercus Moriturus Sum
Diggledom
The Mindset's Bitch
Posts: 11
Joined: Wed Oct 13, 2010 1:01 pm
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Name: Diggledom

Re: Application

Post by Diggledom »

Join the amazing club of being ass kicked by life.

But yeah, ready and waiting.
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