WotH Chpt 45

==War on the Horizon - Chapter 45==
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===Pirates Under Siege===
Date January 20, 3015/20.01.7954 CRC
Location: Lok, Karthakk system, Outer Rim Territories
"Sheppard, talk to me," I stood on the bridge of the Leviathan and looked down on the planet below.
(("Anti-aircraft guns are pretty much nonexistent,")) the man reported from his Cyclops, the camera angles showing the battle around him. (("Bravo Battalion is pushing to take control of the factory while we move on to the pirate's main complex."))
 
"Copy that, Major, keep me updated," I cut the transmission as I sighed. "Commodore, can you summarize the space battle for me?"
 
Victoria nodded before gesturing to a small briefing room just off of the bridge.
 
"Minor casualties and those we did take were in equipment, not manpower," she slid a sheet of paper over. "Here's the estimated casualties, damage, and salvage we've tallied up so far."
 
"Looks good for the most part," I glanced at the sheet, skimming through the data. "Our Gozanti refits aren't exactly keeping up with the rest of our ships though."
 
"We're running them in wolfpacks for now," Jewel replied. "It's working for now, but we're gonna have to phase them out or into other larger groups to fill gaps."
 
"They're ships we need right now, even if we can't use them as effectively as we might have hoped," I grasped. "Any ideas on what we can do to improve our situation in space?"
 
"I'm working on something," She smirked. "But we don't have the infrastructure to build anything of our own, so I've got the Argo working on some specs for me, and then I'm going to see if we can talk a shipyard into building them for us," She gestured for me to get comfortable. "Now, I think that you and I need to work on some doctrinal changes if we're going to be in space this much. And given some of the lessons we just learned, it's probably better that we work on them now."
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====Coordinating in the heat of Bbattle====
"Oh look, they've actually got tanks!" James MacAfee grinned as his Archer's battlerom registered movement. "Looks like we've got some Trade Federation knock-offs, boss."
 
<<"Hold!">> Packer ordered. <<"Mithril, disperse into the surroundings, I want to see how our Tigers and Goblins measure up. 'Mechs, you're on standby for support, I want the Archer's ready to receive fire support missions.">>
After he gave the orders, the company dispersed, with MacAfee shifting behind a small hill along with the other two Archers and a Toro, the fireteam's last two members being a bit slower seeing as they were twin LRM carriers.
 
"Our tanks are doing a pretty good job," James sighed, disappointed that he would be denied action once again.
 
(("This is Rifle Actual, we've got what appears to be some sort of artillery platform in the distance, standby for fire support mission."))
 
James cracked his neck as he waited for coordinates, the mobile HQ tied into the group's systems giving his battle computer exactly what it needed as it generated a set of coordinates from the spotters and gave him the right path to arc his missiles over the hill at the enemy.
 
<("Fire for effect,")> the fireteam lead ordered, a small timer counting down for the group to release the hailstorm of missiles.
 
James pulled on the triggers for his twin LRM-15s, his heavy 'mech rocking backward for a minute as the missiles flew towards their targets, the cockpit seeming to heat up suddenly before cooling off again as the desert heat did nothing to help with the cooling of his 'mech.
 
<("Good effect on target!")> the Mithril Power Armor operator reported. <("We're moving in to secure the survivors. Thanks for the assist.")>
 
"'Mechs get ready to push up and relieve the tanks, it looks like the Revenants dug out some more tanks out of nowhere, and I want them dead and gone before we push to that factory."
 
James pushed his 'mech up to speed to crest the hill, standing atop it in the armored giant as his sensors revealed fifteen more tanks pushing out from hiding to engage the Marksmen's own vehicles.
 
<<"Pick your targets and take 'em down,">> Packer ordered. <<"The Infantry are near to the factory, so it's left to us to finish being the distraction so they can make sure that the pirates didn't leave behind any traps.">>
 
James' computer rang with a targeting lock as he enhanced and zoomed in on a cluster of four tanks in perfect formation as they tried to engage the Goblins and Tigers.
 
Squeezing his triggers again, thirty missiles left his torsos, the LRMs dropping on top of the four tanks, causing two to spin out of control as their repulsors failed and damaging the other two before two bursts of autocannon fire put them out of their misery.
 
//"Sensors show we're in the clear, Major,"\\ the CO of their company reported. //"I'm pulling back to repair and rearm."\\
 
<<"We'll see you back at the dropship,">> Packer responded. <<"Good work out there.">>
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===Liberation and future Possibilities===
"The locals seem friendly," I remarked as a wad of rocks and mud struck the outside of the SUV I was riding in.
 
"They think we're just taking the place of the pirates and the Trade Federation," Sheppard shrugged. "It'll take time to prove that we're not either of them."
 
"We just conquered their world," I looked at the young boy whose fist was still outstretched from the throw. "We're taking over the factory, and tearing down Nym's palace to rebuild anything we destroyed."
 
"Factory was staffed by slaves after the Federation pulled out," Sheppard sighed. "They're gonna be just as angry as any of the locals."
 
"We'll offer them transport to their homeworlds if they still have family left alive," I replied. "If they don't have anywhere to go we can offer temporary housing locally, or we can send them to the destination of their choice," I looked at the arid near-desert that led into steppes across this section of the world. "We can afford to give them a lump sum equivalent to three months' salary for having worked in the factory immediately, but everything else is up to them, we can't afford to be more generous than that."
 
"Not without cutting into our bottom line on this op at least," Sheppard agreed. "I know this was a retaliation op, but that factory is the only reason we're gonna be breaking even."
 
"The factory alone was worth this op," I shook my head. "Our local Neimoidian gave us some details on the sort of output we can expect and how to reprogram this sort of thing."
 
"And?" Sheppard raised an eyebrow.
 
"Depending on the size of the factory and what we want it to manufacture, we're looking at an overstrength battalion of tanks every two months," I grinned. "And if we manage to finally finish the program that some of the techs are working on we'll be converting everything over to Fusion Engines."
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===Change of Heart and Preparations===
Date: February 4th, 3015/04.02.7954 CRC
Location: Nubian J-Type diplomatic barge
"Typho," Padme glanced at the guard captain. "I have a question for you."
 
"Yes, senator?" the man looked at his charge.
 
"How would you prepare Naboo for another Trade Federation invasion?" She asked, sitting down and giving him her full attention.
 
"How long do I have to prepare, ma'am?" He asked in return. "Because a lot depends on how much time I have.'
 
"Let's call it a year," Padme replied. "What would you do given a year to prepare?"
 
"Take volunteers and expand the Guard to do more than take care of the palace," he immediately responded. "Begin importing blasters and heavy weapons to store for future use. I'd then get with the Gungans, start running drills so that we're not getting in each other's way. I'd have more starfighters built and I'd see about hiring some of the Marksman's bigger ships," he glanced out the viewport at the Katana. "We'd still have some people hurt, but the Trade Federation wouldn't be able to pull off what they did the first time."
 
"And what of negotiations?" Padme asked.
 
"With all respect, senator," Typho looked her dead in the eye. "The Trade Federation has proven that they won't respect anything other than force. They weren't willing to try the first time, I doubt they'd be willing if it came to a second one."
 
"And why the Marksman?" she asked one last question.
 
"They've proven that they'll hold to the letter of their contracts," Typho shrugged. "They might be lethal soldiers and mercenaries, but every piece of intel we've got on them suggests that they're good people. If given the option between them or someone else, I'd pick them every time," he then shook his head. "Why these questions all of a sudden?" he asked. "It's not like you to be shaken by anything."
 
"The Colonel may have confronted me on some of my beliefs," Padme sagged in her chair. "And I am afraid that he may be right in some of them. That I may have been hampering peace in the Republic by some of my actions."
 
"Well," Typho stroked his chin in thought. "If you believe that he is right in some way, then do research, you are friends with the Jedi, yes? Surely their records of history could help you understand."
 
"I will have to make an inquiry of the Temple," Padme hummed in thought. "Typho, after we evaluate the status of those in the system set a course for Coruscant, I believe that there is much for me to do."
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===Proving One's identity===
Date: February 4th, 3015/04.02.7954 CRC
Location: Nubian J-Type diplomatic barge
"C'mon little bro," Satele walked down the ramp of an odd ship. "I want to see what we're dealing with."
 
"Well, It's no Basilisk War Droid," Jacen followed. "But it certainly looks deadly."
 
A giant bipedal machine turned from where it had been cutting down a tree, a a bubble-shaped cockpit popping open as a Twi'lek looked at their ship.
 
"You're not allowed to set the ship down here!" she yelled out over the distance.
 
"What do you mean?!" Jacen yelled back.
 
"The Marksman control all airspace over the planet, unless you got clearance, expect a visit shortly!"
 
As soon as the Twi'lek's voice finished echoing a handful of ASF fighters streaked overhead, the sonic boom as they passed rattling the ship below while an oddly shaped ship set down right next to the Shan's ship, a group of armored soldiers piling out and pointing weapons at them.
 
The siblings raised their hands with their palms out, showing that they weren't trying to engage in hostile behavior, the holsters for their weapons on their hips and out of easy reach.
 
"Not lookin' to start a fight 'ere," Satele smiled at the soldiers. "Just haven't been 'round these parts in a while."
 
"You were broadcast a flight and landing pattern," one of the soldiers stepped forward. "Why did you not follow it?"
 
"We've got some old comms gear," Jacen sighed. "I've been meaning to get it fixed, I just haven't had the time."
 
"We'll need to get some records, and you'll have to come with us." the soldier responded. "We'll leave your ship here for the time being, with a promise not to move it or touch it until you've been properly cleared."
 
"You're going to want our weapons, aren't you?" Satele raised an eyebrow.
 
"Unfortunately, yes," the leader looked at her kit. "We do allow people to carry weapons, but not onboard our ships unless they've been properly vetted."
 
"Perfectly reasonable." Jacen unclipped his holster and set it on the ground, a silver cylinder and a handful of Vibroknives joining the pile on the ground."
 
"Boot knife too," another soldier commented.
 
"Fine," Jacen sighed. "But if a single one of them is missing."
 
"None of it will go missing," the leader stated firmly. "We're professionals, not some bandits from the Outskirts of the 'Sphere."
 
Satele quietly set her weapons to be collected as she continued to examine the armor the soldiers wore.
 
"I haven't seen powered armor in a long time," She stepped forward. "Where'd you get it?"
 
"Classified," someone replied. "Join up, and maybe you'll get to find out."
 
"I might have to take you up on that offer," Satele smirked as she boarded the dropship. "Not like I got much else going on."
 
The dropship lifted off once they were aboard, her ASF escorts heading back towards the base with a cargo of importance that they didn't even know they possessed, for a Mantle and Guardian traveled with them.
 
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Chapter 45