User:Kylelck

Lumi Excerpts Ref
SPOILERS LISTED

In order of appearance:


 * GEHENNA - Empire Brigadier General
 * BLACK DOVE - Cave Head
 * INCLUSIVE MATTER - Cave Head
 * EXEMPTED - Cave Head (KIA)
 * EXECUTIONER - Cave Head (KIA)
 * CELTIC - Cave Head
 * MAGIC TURNBALL - Cave Head
 * COLD WIND - Cave Head
 * FRIGID EVENING - Cave Head (KIA)
 * TROUPE - Retired Strategic Research and Analysis Wing Lead
 * LAUGHING HIEROPHANT - Current Strategic Research and Analysis Wing Lead
 * ASCENDANT ZEALOT - Emperor Ulran
 * TREASURE ROOM - Empire Ministry of Intelligence
 * NIGHT DIRK - Military Secrets Directorate Officer
 * WINTER - Captain Telev (KIA)
 * CONDUCTOR - 3rd BattleFleet Admiral
 * SPEAR - 2nd BattleFleet Admiral
 * EMINENCE - Admiral of the Navy
 * BRICK - 1st BattleFleet Admiral
 * LONG SWORD - LNBs Claymore
 * CASTLE - Empire Battlestation
 * BACK BREAKER -LNC Oculus
 * DOPPELGANGER - Rebel Battlestation
 * WINGED SHIELD - Aeveria Confederation
 * BRAZEN - Luminarian Operation designed to extract BLACK DOVE from Empire territory.
 * TRINARY BURN - Luminarian Operation designed to eliminate EXEMPTED, EXECUTIONER and CELTIC.
 * ALACRITY - Luminarian Operation designed to end the war by eliminating Emperor Ulran and his seat of power
 * ALTERNATE - LCIE plan to encourage the build-up of rebel assets for a period of time.
 * DARK FOREST - LCIE plan to destroy Luminaria through the use of orbital bombardment
 * NATIVE JUNGLE - LCIE plan to seed Luminaria with SOC agents to induce a coup should ALACRITY fail.
 * GESTALT - Head of LCIE's Quantum Analysis Wing.
 * TOXIC FALLOUT - Betel Recyclers
 * SOYLENT GREEN - Asanian Syndicate
 * COLD FUSION - Luminarian Operation to setup a meeting location for talks between Betel Recyclers and the Luminarians
 * ARCHIMEDES - Luminarian Naval Design Bureau officer.
 * CHAINMAIL - LNFg Vigilant
 * SPEAR THRUST - LNFg Bellerophon
 * CHIMERA - LNFg Chimera
 * THUNDERBOLT - LNFg Thunderbolt
 * POLEARM - LNFg Pike
 * DARING MANTIS - Rear Admiral from 2nd BattleFleet assigned to lead CHERNOBYL SARCOPHAGUS
 * BULL FROST - 2nd BattleFleet Rear Admiral.
 * PANDORA'S MISFITS - Council Intelligence and Research Office
 * MISPLACED GOODS - Rach
 * CHERNOBYL SARCOPHAGUS - Luminarian operation designed to secure and extract Betel resources from Repzork, Xeverra or Betel hostile actions.
 * FALSE HEAVEN - Margan Empire
 * DYNAMO - Combined Luminarian and Aeverian operation to take out Zaretian forces in the Norsus Sector.
 * DELIVERANCE - Assault Citadel
 * SECTARIAN TEIID - Repzork Empire
 * FROSTY MORNING - The border between Rebel and Empire space.
 * QUINTUPLE SCALES - The Xeverra
 * BREAK CALIGRAPHY - Researcher
 * RED DROPLET - Translation package.
 * NULL TIME - Encryption format.
 * MULCH DISASTER - Researcher

WIP Story
 “Hook, tally bandit, have pure, pressing. Guns guns guns.”

The ship in her sights, the green Avenger built under some other star, by an alien hands hostile to her, the chassis, its weapons in a desperate skew as it tries to break clear, all coming apart under the onslaught of highly charged particles, it shields fizzling out as the blasts begin to rupture the frame.

Blossoming shrapnel, a ball of fusion flame, flesh atomizing. A scene all too repeated during the war.

“VAMPIRE! ASPECT! AMETHYST! 6!”

A loud high pitched whine echoes through the cockpit, a noise like someone ringing her molars with an armor chime.

“Sidewinder, Hook, am spiked, Amethyst, vampires inbound. Music on. Defending now.”

She rolls her ship (an old, weathered, yet lethal Ophidian heavy fighter, her pride, and joy since the early stages of the Zaretian Campaign) and fires her thrusters. She dodges the first 2 crystal missiles, guns 1 down, chaff and flares blinding 2 others.

A bright flash envelops the cockpit, followed by a heavy impact from the rear. Lightning streaking by her field of vision as 2 purple-dart Stormlords bear down on her. A gaping hole in the rear of the ship, slowly being patched up by the nanomesh system, a small comfort in trying times.

“Fox two. Fox two.”

12 Claw short range air-to-air missiles leap out from her ship’s missile racks. 6 slamming into the lead Stormlord, unable or unwilling to break off its charge. The other Stormlord makes an amateur mistake and its last, pitching upwards in an attempt to avoid the missiles.

“Guns Guns Guns.”

Following right behind it, a stream of charged particles impact the Stormlord, it shields fizzling out as the blasts begin to rupture the frame.

Blossoming shrapnel, a ball of fusion flame, flesh atomizing. A scene all too repeated during the war.

“-am spiked, am spiked, music up. Bandit has pure.”

“Hammer, Hook. Supporting. Break right. Padlocking.”

Clear, precise, no confusion. It’s a language spoken by warriors, unlike the many words used by politicians. A simple set of words, unburdened by emotions that sound like an easy promise, unlike the complex, emotionally charged speeches.

And below it all, down beneath her, in the storm of plasma, projectiles, beams, missiles and explosions. Where in a blink of an eye, lives are snuffed out, either in a blaze or the cold vacuum of space. Where the ideals of civilizations, unable or unwilling to coexist, clash.

Aeverians say that Love is about knowing the rules of your connection. You know your connections deepest fears and how to hurt the other side, and the other side trusts you with this knowledge. War is no different. You learn the enemy’s victory conditions, her capabilities and weaknesses. You figure out where it hurts, where it breaks. You force the enemy into unsurvivable terrain, pinned between an unwinnable war and unacceptable compromise as the Aeverian saying goes.

But what can you do when one side has no rules at all?

The Schism was not supposed to happen.

Garrina, callsign Hook, grew up in a tenuous peace. Her father fought and died in the colonial wars, one of the many lives sacrificed for a peaceful future, but that was not to be. Angry, discontent, the people of the frontier demanded autonomy, a chance for freedom.

“We have weathered enough. Our sons and daughters have died, fighting for a war that the inner worlds forced upon us. We cannot, we will not let our fate be dictated by people who do not care about us.”

Garrina recalls the many protests and the crackdowns that ensured. She also remembers the killings, the bloodbaths that ensured. One war ended, and another begun, or so it would have seemed.

“-seen the suffering. In the spirit of unity and peace, we bequeath to your freedom.”

Emperor Baryoto, in an attempt to prevent a civil war, finally acquiesced to the demands of the frontier. Both sides believed they won, both knowing how to hurt each other, yet at the last moment pulled each other from the brink. And then they came back.

In an unprovoked attack, the Empire crossed into Frontier territory and razed Midale. 3 billion lives snuffed over the course of 12 hours, and in the next 12, countless trillions of lives were upended. There would be no negotiations, no surrender.

A lot of people believed the war would end swiftly; the Frontier had a larger fleet, better trained veterans and more resources. If they struck with the full might of the fleets, the Empire would have no choice but to surrender. Garrina believed in that too, for a time. Conscripted and trained as a fighter pilot, she flew her first sortie against Empire forces, she still remembers her first briefing.

“Alright rooks, this is your first mission.” Captain Bar’ka briefs his rooks. She remembers the tension, the stink of Ozone. “You will deploy and engage an Empire transport convoy; we believe it to be carrying important supplies and personnel for the Empire’s war effort. Resistance is expected to be in the form of the LEFg Octave and the LEFg Viper.”

She remembers the adrenaline, the fear as she exits the hangar in a Myrmidon, the screams of pilots. But everything else was a blur, a dreamlike state. The mission ended in a partial success, with the transports destroyed, but only 5 out of the 45 strikecraft making it back.

She later learns the convoy was carrying non-combatant contractors, dental and culinary services for rear line bases.

Aphu Prime, a once thriving planet, the capital of the now defunct Aphu technocracy, this monument to the power of the Battlestation. The tomb of 40000 men, the frontier’s hopes and old military doctrines.