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WAR!! Pt 3
🕑 Added 2023-11-16 01:02:54 +0000 UTC[X] Plan: Zog 'em Up!
-[X] Torpedo Sniping x2
-[X] Ground
-[X] Captain's Gambit: Use the Grav-Siphons of the Endeavors to pull the gases of the planet into the Harvester Fleet and prime The Teeth with an energy signature to cause the gases to detonate.
((((()))))
A serious problem in planning against Directorate doctrine is that the Directors do not read their manuals, nor do they feel any obligation to follow their doctrine.
(((())))
Wurf felt the entire ship shake as the guns of the enemy fleet began chewing through their shield. “Capacitors 10, 83, 5, and 105 have been overloaded: we’re losing about one per minute,” His science officer commented. “At this rate, we have maybe fifteen minutes before we lose enough capacitors for the shields to go offline,”
Wurf cursed, and a few of the consoles sparked, near overloading. “We need t’ take them out an’ quick,” He grumbled. “‘Ows the word from the Endeavors?” He asked, and his chief security officer winced.
“Torpedos got knocked down: they think that th’ enemy predicted ‘em an’ made sure to set up a good defensive net. Sorry Keptin, we’re gonna need somefin else.”
“Oh krab appuls,” Wurf complained, synapses firing as the Hobbgrot began to sort through ideas. They needed a way to disrupt the enemy, and quick, take out as many as possible…
“Captain, I have an idea,” Came the voice of Lt. Periss, the human looking up from his console. “What if we try to use the Endeavors to draw some of the more volatile gasses up from Kanns Krown-”
“-An use the teef to detonate em,” Wurf commented, nodding. “Well, I’m stropped fer ideaz. Tell MEKZ and Hykmun t’ make it so.”
“Aye aye Captain,” said his Comms Officer, tapping at their display.
((((()))))
MGTRN fired his fusion cannons. There had been a breach: the lower levels reported attacks from Gruggo Consortium Ground Forces breaking through. Civilians were dying.
All around the Machina were the scrapped remains of Blokbots, dead aliens, wrecked ships and air vehicles, and burning buildings. The entire structure had begun to shake: the result of the relentless bombing campaigns. Things were not looking well.
Above, the Machina saw a flash of light through one of the many cracks in the dome, and saw small pieces of megacrete begin to fall, slamming into the side of one of the many pillars, gouging a cut into the structures side.
Things were not going well.
((((()))))
Wurf watched in satisfaction as, on his viewscreen, fleet formations began to break, leaving openings. The exploding gasses that were rising from the planet weren’t enough to do much damage: only one ship had been caught in the inferno.
But Wurf didn’t need the gambit. He just needed to district em. Out from the Valiant lanced the teeth, cutting through two more ships as it shifted and turned, each shot taking out a vessel. “‘Ows the ground game lookin’?” He asked, grinning.
“Uh, rough,” Whamdinger commented, scratching his chin. “Looks like there have been a few breaches. The Super Battlebots an’ special forces are about t’ arrive, but casualties aren’t lookin’ good: we need t’ figure out ‘ow t’ disable their reinforcements, keptin,” The Hobbgrot said.
Wurf nodded. Well, hopefully the Super Battlebots would buy time. “Order the Endeavors t’ focus everything they got on their siphons: if we can make the place volatile enough, they won’t be able t’ move their troops,” He commented.
((((())))
Zurgo Globglob fired his Cryorifle, the frost weapon taking out one of those absolutely annoying machines, the simple humanoid automata freezing as a layer of frost and ice covered it as the ball of antientropic energies detonated.
Join the Gruggo Consortium and get a PHO90F Plan, they said! See the galaxy and earn money doing it, they said!
No retirement account was worth dying on some alien shithole, the Harvester opined, noting his fluid levels were dipping. Pressing a button on his buttons armor while he ducked into cover, his helmet began filling his mouth with filtered water harvested from the atmosphere. The Dorgan was very glad he toothed out for that upgrade: several people on his team had already had to retreat from bloodloss, and he had seen a few outright collapsed because their armor had drained them too much.
DEAR VALUED EMPLOYEE, WE AT GRUGGO HAVE IDENTIFIED A KEY TACTICAL OPENING 200 FEET AWAY FROM YOU. FOR MAXIMUM COMPENSATION, WE WOULD ADVISE YOU ADVANCE INTO IT AND BEGIN HARVEST OPERATIONS ON THE PURCHASED ASSETS. REMEMBER, WE AT GRUGGOS DO WHAT WE MUST, BECAUSE WE CAN.
REMINDER: HARVEST OF NON-APPROVED ASSETS IS PROHIBITED UNDER THE GRUGGO CONSORTIUM AND DORGAN ALLIANCE CODE OF SUSTAINABLE CONDUCT, VIOLATION OF THESE RULES ARE PUNISHABLE BY FINES UP TO 300 UNITS PAID TO THE TOOTHGRIMM KABAL AND NO MORE THAN 30 DAYS IN JAIL.
Eyeblight, at least he could still make some money off this disaster. “This is Zurgo to squad, manager wants us to advance to a different location,” He said over his vox-cast embedded in his armor. “Apparently a hole opened up: should let us breach one of the bunkers and hopefully get paid.”
A murmur of agreement, and Zurgo emerged from cover, beginning his advance down the wrecked street, staying as low to the ground as possible and using the fallen buildings, wrecked skycars, debris from the broken Cullbarges to minimize his profile, his squad alongside him as they advanced down the trenches.
The robots were distracted, mostly drawn to another theater, leaving only a handful between Zurgo and his target, and thankfully none of the big scary ones, just the little snotpukes that could be taken out easy.
Eventually, they reached their target: a wide stretch of street, with only light enemies between Zurgo’s team and their target. Emerging from cover, his team attacked, laying down suppressing fire on the flanked and unprepared machines, advancing slowly.
Finally, things were going right. Zurgo was gonna do this quick: get in, harvest as many of those alien bleedgums as possible, and get out. And when he got back home, he was cashing out: it was one thing to roll some dumbass bleedgum primitives for a paycheck, but he hadn’t signed up to be kraking soldier.
After a moment, Zurgo raised his hand, halting the firing: the street was now covered in a fine layer of ice, and a chill frost hung in the air. The machines found themselves frozen: he wasn’t reading electrical signals. “Alright, advance. We probably don’t have much time before they respond. This is Zurgo and Squad E491 to Management, we’ve managed to reach an asset containment zone, took out the defenders: requesting a Cullbarge for asset removal and extraction.”
“This is Supervisor Borgon,” Came the voice of his current supervisor over vox. “We’re reading you: barge is on the way. Be aware that due to unforeseen conditions, there are now confirmed enemy snipers and- Holy krak! Retreat, get out of there! We’re reading multiple heavies being deployed across the planet! The Gruggo Consortium would like to remind you that we are not liable for injuries inflicted by hostile parties-”
Zurgo, who had joined his squad in approaching the bunker surface access, only had time for his eyes to widen before something massive and multicolored slammed into the street, reducing three members of his squad to splattered patches of gore and kicking up massives amount of dust and debris and sending it flying into the air, only for it slow, then still, each loose pebble, stone, bit of metal wreckage floating in the air, even as a vast shape rose before Zurgo.
It looked like a toy, Zurgo noted hysterically as he fell backward, eyes widening as it rose. Bright red and blue plastic casing, an overly broad torso, simplistic looking articulation, soft edges. It looked almost like the old Captain Globax figurine he bought his kid last he saw him: simple, almost barrel shaped torso, upper part painted all red, with a clear cockpit made from some sort of see-through plastic, a little orange guy in the drivers seat. The colorful robot raised its long blue arms, getting into a fighting pose, its joints covered in what appeared to be some sort of rubber padding, while its legs, far too small and thin to be supporting a machine of that size, bent.
It looked like a toy, he continued to think, watching as its hand shifted, becoming some sort of…cannon, its barrel glowing white. And then, the toybot unleashed hellfire, and Zurgo died with one thought in his head.
I really hate this !@#$ing planet.
((((()))))
Above, the skies boiled and churned, as more and more hydrogen, oxygen was pulled from the gas giant and used to create a titanic cloud of recombinate gasses and igniting particles, a swirling annihilation nexus. The light- blinding, like a failed second star smeared across sky, visible across the system.
In this volatile cauldron, kinetic force generated by the bomb-like chain reaction acted as turbulence, shaking and rattling ships, those unfortunate enough to be near a gas pocket as it went hypercritical or being knocked into another ship caught in the blaze was being consumed by an all devouring nuclear inferno, or being blasted into so much orbital flotsam and detritus.
“We’re being hailed by Captain Garagrim and Strongarm,” Said the officer at the Comms console on Wurfs ship, and a moment later, the angry, screaming face of the H’kann captain was on the viewscreen.
“You are creating a NUCLEAR FIRESTORM over an inhabited PLANET you DUMB fu-”
“Ain’t like we got a zoggin’ choice,” Wurf growled. “We needed a way t’ break up their formashun or we were gonna get krumped on the ground and in space. Th’ Directorate’ll do a clean up when this is all said an’ done.
Garagrimm let out a growl of frustration. “Fine,” She spat. “You at least have the F’Grimm on the ropes.”
“Hey hey hey, we ain’t out th’ woods yet, Pards,” Strongarm interjected, and next to him an image was displayed of the Valiant taking out another cluster of ships. “Reports are comin’ in from the ground: you stopped the Var’mants from gettin’ reinforcements, but they’re starting to bust through yer little tinkertoys. We’re runnin’ out of stoppin’ power here.”
“Uh, Captain? We’re getting a hail from…Winterspite? They want to talk in private.”
“I’ll think o’ somefin,” Wurf growled. “You twoz focus on providin’ ground support. I gotta answer dis. Bring em on screen,” He commanded, and a moment later, he was staring into a face he recognized pretty zoggin’ well. Ex-Archon Nisraean. The Drukhari was at a location Wurf didn’t recognize: a beach, sunny too: they seemed to be lounging in some sort of pavilion, the crash of waves behind them as they stared at Wurf with a cheeky grin. “Nisraen. ‘Ow th’ zog are you callin’ me, an’ what the zog do you want?”
“Oh Wurf, is that any way to greet a friend?” Nisraen said with false shock and offense, a playful tone in their voice. “Especially one who comes bearing gifts?”
Wurf narrowed his eyes. “I’ll appologize if’n I’m not exactly in a friendly mood, considerin’ the situation.” He said in his best approximation of diplomacy, stifling his annoyance, causing the Archon to let out a laugh. “What sort o’ gift we talkin’ about, an’ more importantly, why?”
“What, can’t it just be because I’m a generous person?” Nisraen asked, and for a moment, silence hung in the air before the drukhari finally let out a cackling laugh. “Oh, apologies, that was just a fantastic joke. Anyways, I have a few…shall we say eyes and ears there, and when one of them got back to me that my GOOD friends at the Directorate were going toe to toe with the catspaws of the Toothgrimm Kabal, those vile nogoodniks, I decided, why not be the hero and help the enemies of the people I hate?”
So, basically’ ‘oever the Gruggo Consortium was, they worked for a rival of Nisraean.
“What exaktly do you have t’ tell me?” Wurf said, narrowing his eyes.
“These creatures…the Dorgan, I believe they’re called. They’re employed by few different rival organizations of mine,” Nisraean commented languidly. “Fellow Drukhari: they use the Dorgan for all manner of menial task too important for slaves or lowborn, but below the dignity of their kabal to handle. Sanitation, food for the lowborn, mercenaries for tasks they don’t wish to handle.” He stretched, leaning into his cushion. “In exchange, they pay the Dorgan in various commodities: technology. Life extension for their leaders. Commodities seized from other races. “Indentured Employees,”” Nisrain finished, saying the last two words in a mocking, contemptuous tone as he rolled his eyes and made a dismissive gesture.
“Rivetin’. An’ that ‘elps us ‘ow?”
“My successor has inherited a number of my debts and contracts, but they have also inherited my enemies. It would cost the Directorate a few pennies, but ask yourself: why do the fighting when you can just hire someone to do it yourself?”
…Wait. “Are you…are you tryin’ to sell me merk services?” Wurf quirked a brow. “...An’ why you tryin’ to sell me the services of the guy what cooped you?”
Nisraean blinked, surprised. “Couped? I left willingly! Do people really think I was overthrown by my own shi-I thought he sent out a letter explaining this!” He said, genuinely indignant. “I wanted to pursue my own independent ambitions, independent of the tedium of running an entire Kabal! I wasn’t overthrown by my own-” He took a breath, pausing and closing his eyes. “REGARDLESS, if you agree to pay the fee, Winterspite can respond in about five…ten minutes?”
Well that was right convenient.
Suspiciously convenient, even. The battlefield is currently VOLATILE: the enemy fleet is in disarray and stuck in an exploding fiery nuclear storm. 12 have been destroyed by either the Valiant or cloudburst chain reactions. As a result, they can no longer provide reinforcements below.
The ground battle is going poorly: while they no longer have reinforcements and are getting ravaged by Super Battlebots, the Gruggo Consortium has successfully begun breaching shelters across the planet and have destroyed a significant portion of BlokBot forces: it is entirely possible they can win this via simple attrition.
Nisraean has made an offer to contact the Winterspite Kabal.
Accept his offer?
[ ] Yes (Forfeit 10 CUL next turn as payment. Immediately reinforced by 2 Winterspite ships and one groundside brigade of kabalite warriors.)
[ ] No (No cost)
What do you put your Endeavors towards? Pick two: if voting for the same option twice, please add an X2 to the option so the tally catches it.
[ ] Torpedo Sniping: There were only a handful of specific ships that were being used to house and ferry reinforcements for the Gruggo harvest corp: if the Endeavors could take them out, it would put a halt to the movement of troops to the planet.
[ ] Hey Blaggle? I'm in your Komputer: Wurf didn't know what a subspace communication array was, but 'opefully it went both ways. 'E was gonna have the Endeavors see if they could breach the Gruggo's network, see what data they can rob.
[ ] Watashi ga Kita!: Let em pick on someone their own size. Or preferably bigger: the Endeavors would breach the gas giants atmosphere to help cut down the Ground Ops to size: they couldn't breach the cities, but the airspace outside them was another story entirely.
[ ] GAS EM UP: The Directorate would have to run clean up ops after, but so far, the gas siphon tactic was WORKING. The Endeavors would focus on dragging up more gas, creating a bigger, more energetic storm to help disrupt them more.
[ ] Jack In: The Directorate would deploy its virus busters to attempt to hack the navigational systems of the ships caught in the nebula, disrupting them: hopefully, with their controls busted, they’d accidentally fly into an explosion.
Assign where you want your special units operating
[ ] Ground: The Hunteks and Khimer would focus on ground operations, disrupting enemy actions in the theater and relieving existing forces.
[ ] Space: The Hunteks and Khimer would focus on space operations: conducting boarding and sabotage to reduce the enemies focus and help thin the numbers on their fleet.
Lastly, the Captains Gambit.
[ ] Insert Captains Gambit Here.
