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Diplomatic Mission - Sir Lt Sultana and Corpsman Dromah

Date: 1091-077

Placeholder for Stepping Stones I

Backstory: On a Diplomatic Mission (Both Adkhar and Sultana) as Lt's meet somewhere, and share a bit of bladework.

Mikhel Dromah in attendance somehow...

NPC Contact - Vice Admiral Sir Adkhar Urimshik, Count of Intelia (as a young Lieutenant)

TBD

1091-077 - 09:30

Director:"Allez!"

And the clash of blades commenced. The word was from some archaic language, but for sword competitions, it was traditional. It means 'try to kill your opponent', or something, in a bout between two competitors. As it was a Navy competition, military medics were roped into doing the first aid standby. So, there Mikhel Dromah stood, learning things about weapons he'd likely never use. Long blades were meant to kill sophonts, so Mikhel wouldn't be using one. Ever.

The two gentlemen were nearly stationary. After moving into engagement, they hadn't shifted a foot. Not a usual tactic, not using footwork, but the blades were blurs. They seemed really evenly matched. Both Naval Lieutenants, and part of the inter-sector gathering of noble representatives meeting in the system. Someone thought crossing blades between sector navy officers would be a good thing. Lieutenant Sir Adkhar Urimshik represented Trin's Veil's 207th Fleet, and Lieutenant Sir Gopal Sultana represented Gulf's 193rd Fleet (Deneb). The bout was using sabres, and as 'heavy' blades, the bouts didn't last long. Apparently, these guys were pacing themselves. As far as Mikhel had seen so far today, these gentlemen knew their blades, and were quite skilled.

Motion on the side of the piste drew Mikhel's eye. One of the side-judges was standing very close to Sultana's gear. And there was more movement behind the judge. Odd.

Lt Sultana tried a feint and coupé, then an attack. Lt Urimshik countered with a moulinet, laughing aloud. Normally a slow move, and therefore rarely used, Urimshik makes the move very quickly and smoothly, catching Lt Sultana before he can parry.

Mikhel thought he saw someone move away from behind the side-judge, into the change room entrance on the other side of the piste. Wrinkled brow.

"Touché!"

Director:"Halte!"

Lt Sultana stepped back, raised his blade in a salute, and joined in the laughter. "That was quite the maneuver. How did you pull that off?"

Urimshik: "I worked at it until I had the technique to press it through. It doesn't work well, if the opponent is faster and taller than you. We were pretty well matched, I just had the extension, so I used it. Also, I saw your third intention coming, and decided to interrupt your plan. I got lucky, this time." Urimshik removed his mask and held out his hand. Sultana removed his mask, grasped Urimshik's extended hand, and gave a firm shake.

"We are pretty well matched. Perhaps a few practice bouts, sometime?"

Urimshik: "Certainly. I don't get enough good practice, and bots are horribly predictable. Perhaps we will see each other in the Wardroom tonight?

"Perhaps..."

Director:"Gentlemen, clear the piste. There are more bouts."

Lt Sultana walked over to his gear, and as he picked up his water bottle, a hand reached out and grasped his forearm.

"I wouldn't do that, if I were you, Lieutenant."

Sultana was shocked! Besides the surprise of the move, how dare an enlisted man touch him!

Removing his hand immediately, "Lieutenant, I'm sorry about the assault, but I saw someone near your kit. I don't know if there is anything wrong, but it was odd. I have bottled water here, if you need a drink." Mikhel held out a sealed commercial bottle of water, something he normally had in his kit for emergencies. Mikhel wasn't sure this was an emergency, but he was having jitters.

"Lieutenant, could I check your bottle?" Mikhel held up his MediScanner, gesturing to his personal bottle.

"Really, Corpsman." Sultana had given the person the once-over, and he appeared to be a legitimate medic. The uniform and gear were all appropriate. "Who are you?"

"Lieutenant, I am Corpsman Mikhel Dromah, currently on assignment with the 204th Fleet escort to the Gazulin Attaché for the conference. Today, I am assigned as a member of the medical support to the Fencing Tourney, working under Master Corpsman Depheni, and on the floor for the bouts on Piste Two. Sorry if I offended you, but fortunately I'm already a buck private, so I can't get demoted any lower. Yes, I'm already lower than pond scum, and you won't be the first to bring it to my boss' attention."

Mikhel had been tuning up the MediScanner as he spoke, and completed the scan as he finished his speech.

"Lieutenant. Have you pissed somebody off?" Mikhel pointed to the screen of his MediScanner, now showing a lot of red lettering, and a few red indicator lights. "Lieutenant, don't be too upset by the indicators. This doesn't look immediately fatal. However, you'd be pretty sick in a few hours, and you wouldn't be doing any sword work this afternoon. Perhaps, someone has a bet, and wants to make sure they collect?" Mikhel gives Sultana a piercing gaze.

"Is there money on the Tourney? Or worse, unit honour on the line? We may need to have the Tourney step up the security."

The Lt held up one finger to the medic, requesting silence for a moment while he thought. Less than 30 seconds later he brought his hand down again. "Right." He blew out a quick breath, still covered in a light sheen of sweat from his match with Urimshik. "Any of the above, really. And probably some others not mentioned. First, I assume you didn't see this sophont?" At the other's headshake, he looked around the room, picking out the locations of the security cameras. "Are you required to stay here, Corpsman? If so, I may be feeling a bit off-color after that last match and need a quick medical check. And I think maybe a quick visit to the security offices, so I can get copies of my bout so I can 'review my performance'. One of the cameras might have spotted something. What do you think?"

"Lieutenant, may I touch you? I'd like to check a few things quickly." Mikhel opens his belt pouch, and takes out a flashlight and small plastic stick. With Sultana's nod, Mikhel checks Sultana's pupil response, checks his eyelids and fingernails, "Say Ahhh!" check, "Follow the fingers and tell me how many I'm holding up." After these few checks, and looking at his MediScanner, Mikhel starts packing up his gear.

Mikhel touched the side of his headdress, and spoke, "Bandage, this is Bandage 2. I have a walking casualty for the Med Station, over." He listened for a moment, and looked up. Then, waved at the Corpsman coming across the field house floor. "We are on the move, Lieutenant." And gestured towards the change room entrance. As they walked through the corridor, he asked Sultana, "Do you know where we are going?"

Sultana found out where to go, and got them there quickly. As it turned out, it was possible to get views of the field house floor, and the Pistes. However, the individual was not identifiable. It was obvious the individual knew where the cameras were, and used their headdress to avoid revealing their face. The uniform was for a maintenance worker, therefore civilian, and likely either not on file, or faked. As to the movements of the side-judge, that was interesting. He seemed to move in concert with the worker, but it wasn't obvious. And there were no signals between them that could be observed on the cameras.

However, with the evidence of the water bottle and the MediScan, it was very obvious something hinky had occurred. So, security was ramped up, and an advisory was put out on the QT to participants and staff.

1091-077 - 11:30

At lunch, in the Wardroom, Sultana managed to corral Lieutenant Sir Adkhar Urimshik for a private conversation, ostensibly to discuss the duel and various maneuvers and tactics, but in a quiet corner of the lounge, he showed him the video scans and warned him to keep an eye or a guardian over his equipment at all times, just in case. Yes, theoretically, the saboteur could have been trying to aid Urimshik, but it could just as easily been a third party who might wish to harm him as well. And, the Lt thought to himself, even if the agent was working for Urimshik, this would warn them off from trying again. Win-win, all around.

1091-077 - 15:30

Detachment Commander: "Corpsman, just what were you thinking when you accosted that officer? Were you trying to cause an incident?"

"Commander, I was acting on a hunch. And, as you know, my hunches have never been wrong. Has the Lieutenant put in a complaint?"

Detachment Commander: "Corpsman, he doesn't need to put in a complaint. You know better. This could cause a complaint of interference from the Gulf Fleet. We do not want any perception of impropriety, or any reason to cast aspersions on our win."

"Commander, 'thou doth protest too much, methinks'. I did find something wrong with the Lieutenant's water bottle. And if he'd have drunk any of it, he'd have been dumping his insides into the heads for a week. Besides, you've just cast aspersions onto my professional conduct, as well as my medical ethics. Medics are impartial, no matter to what unit or fleet they are attached. That is why there were Medics from every unit on the floor of the Tourney. Did you have a bet on the outcome of the Tourney? Did I inadvertently mess up someone's plan?"

Detachment Commander: "Corpsman, if you weren't already as low as possible, you'd be up for a charge!"

"Commander, I am Not going to file an ethical complaint about this conversation, to which I have every right. Consider yourself warned, as well."

Detachment Commander: "Corpsman, Dis-Missed! Get OUT of my sight!"

1091-077 - 21:00

A quiet bar off the base, a place with dark wood book shelves and low classical music playing over discrete speakers, Sultana finds a familiar face at a table, with what looked like a book on military history in hand. The face looked up as the shadow fell over the table.

"Lieutenant!" Mikhel stood up, not to attention, but at least paying some courtesy to his rank. "A pleasure to meet you again. Hope you are still feeling well?"

"As well as ever, so far. Permission to join you, Corpsman? I believe I owe you a drink - a clean drink." He catches a server's eye and signals them to bring over 2 more of whatever is already at the table. "I won this afternoon's match, at least. So I didn't completely wash out. We're still waiting on the scores from the final matches to see how each fleet did. What are you reading, if you don't mind my asking?"

Mikhel sits after gesturing to an available chair, waiting until Sultana has settled. "Lieutenant, I'm sorry to say that the pickings on the shelf in this bar are very slim for good books. I found this supposed historical recounting of the last hours of the Kinunir cruiser 'Allamu' by a supposed survivor. By what I've read so far, it is probably more fiction and drama than historical fact. The Battle of Two Suns records the loss of the "Allamu' with all hands when their screens failed catastrophically under heavy fire." The drinks arrive, in the form of two glasses of neat liquid. "Thanks for the drink. Sanitas Semper!" Mikhel will sip about half of the liquid, which Sultana will find to be a particularly bad liqueur. Or at least, that is the impression it leaves. Sultana might want a water chaser, or even something palatable. "Sorry about that. This stuff is an acquired taste. Or as a few of my associates tell me, I have absolutely no taste buds." Mikhel will slide the book over to Sultana, turning it to present the cover to Sultana's orientation.

The title of the book: Blaze of Glory - The Valiant Heroes of the Allamu by Jededia Al Amandtra, Imperial Naval Historian, Forward by Commodore E.N. Ashluda

Ashluda is a 'Named' Admiral in the Fifth Frontier War, as a Fleet Commander. I can't find any other Canon info. He has a good Planning Factor (anticipates strategic moves) and a good Tactics Factor (+2 to any combat where he is the senior Admiral). I have moved the rank back to allow for him to appear in this timeline. He would have been in the Fourth Frontier War, but perhaps only a Lieutenant-Commander.

Sultana winces slightly at the first taste of the liquor, but gamely takes a second drink of it. He reaches out and pulls the book over to him and looks at the cover. "Ah, I remember reading this once a while ago. I think I remember hearing speculation that it was actually written by Ashluda's nephew or something." He shrugs and slides the book back over to Dromah's side of the table, careful to not lose his place in the book. "I brought a couple of books with me, you're welcome to have one if you like. Hold on, I think I have my personal effects list on me..." He pulls out his commpad and flips through it until he finds the right file and brings it up.

Turning it around and sliding it over the table to Dromah, he says, "Here you go, about the middle of the list. See if anything in there is your type." Below his list of the more major personal gear he'd brought with him on this trip (uniforms, weapons, etc), but before the more minor effects (personal hygiene and the like), is a list of a half dozen books:

"I dabble in military history, mostly. And as a Smallcraft Pilot, haven't done any work with Jumps. Now, if I was to consider upping my Pilot game, there are two books on your list that look like they could be of interest. Have you read anything about Time Travel using Jump Technology? There was somebody sewing together stories about the Abyss Rift in the Spinward Marches, and ships misjumping in the sub-sector. One of the misjumps was a ship that made the jump as planned, on time and to the right place, but 300,000 years older. In addition to that, the Fleet Sync process, where tying together ships computers would narrow down the break-out variable, so fleets could arrive at the same time. There is an Imperial Research Station working on the Time & Jump association.
Hmmm... If I'm not mistaken, that last book would be one authored by you? It looks like it could be a fun read."

Library Entry: Abyss Rift

Sultana pulls the list back over toward himself and glances at it. "Oh. I forgot that was in there. I wrote that back at Uni." He turns the list back towards Mikhel. "Well, I'm kind of fond of it, but it's pretty rough still, I think. Could have used more editing. I suppose you can have it if you want. Don't be too harsh though." He smiles and rubs his face a bit awkwardly. "Anyways, yeah, reading about misjumps is pretty standard for pilots. We need to know what we're risking by doing bad calculations. Have to know what's at risk. I'm sure some of them are exagerrated, but enough are documented real examples. Fortunately it's exceedingly rare. And as far as I know, no one has ever figured out a pattern to what happens in misjumps to be able to try and use it."

"I'd rather try that than continue reading this." Mikhel takes the book he was reading and places it in an open spot on the book shelf beside the table. He then pulls out his pocket-sized PCD. "Only if you want to share, though. I don't write stuff, so I won't get all critiquey. Amandtra's story isn't really bad, but I was looking for history, and his book is masquerading as such, not a real battle analysis. As I understand Jump, it is all in the maintenance. The math is the guide, and bad numbers can mess things up. But mostly, if the hardware is in good shape, the ship is OK. Doing stupid stuff, like being in a gravity well, or initiating a jump beside a large mass, like a courier next to a dreadnought? Yeah, you're asking for trouble, or desperate. Now, the stupid thing for me is that I get the space willies on every jump I take, because I'm not doing the math, or maintenance. I just take a bit of solace in the thought the crew doing the work are mentally stable."

Lt Sultana chuckles. "I often hope the same about the medics who work on me. I'll get the book sent to your quarters. I hope you like it, but let me know what you think, good or bad. Feedback's always helpful." He looks around the book bar. "A book sounded good for a quiet night by myself, but not as much with company. Do you play darts, or pool? Or just want a quiet one on your own?"

"If you provide a copy, I'd be happy to oblige you with feedback. It might be that I need a change of topic, and your book could be just the thing to broaden my interests. If you walked into this bar, you were probably looking for a quite evening, yourself. If you aren't too tired doing physical tactics with a blade, perhaps you are willing to try a mental tactical challenge? There are some chess boards in the other corner, and a battle table in the opposite corner by the door. If you aren't familiar with battle tables, this one can be set up in a few different modes. We can play head-to-head, cooperative against an AI, or we can put out an invitation to other players on the network to take us on. There are random set-ups, historical battle replays, or we can custom design a battle. Again, I'll understand if you are looking for a rest. You were pretty occupied today. There are other days, unless you are shipping out, tomorrow."

"Oh no, a mental workout sounds perfect. You choose the game and scenario, and I'll choose the way you beat me at it. Loser picks up the next round." He moves to stand and follow Mikhel to the board of his choice. He swings by the bar and picks up a water for each of them.

On apporaching the unoccupied Battle Table, Mikhel takes a look at the Net link. It is particularly active this evening, with quite a few battles in play. There are all sorts of options, and among land sea and space battles, one was setting up for a community game. It appeared, coincidentally to the book Mikhel had picked up, that someone was looking to replay the Battle of Two Suns. The invitation was to all comers. Depending on the number of entrants, the fleets could be divided up. Only two, then admirals for each side. If a few joined in, squadron commanders would be assigned to participants. If the Net was really busy, and lots of people jumped in, individual ship commands would be assigned. The options on joining would let people choose decending available options. You could pick sides and levels, as there were command positions, as well as ships. You could go random, and take your chances. If Mikhel and Sultana both picked 'completely random', they could end up on the same side.

"Do you want to jump into that mess? Could be fun. There are likely to be great, good and really bad players. If we are really unlucky, we could end up on the side of all the novices against all the geniuses. Or, we could do something with just us. Either head to head or cooperative."

"Could be fun trying to win against enormous odds, but let's just take first available match. Coop sounds good though. Let's go beat up on random unknowns." He settles in at his station and starts setting it up. "Here we go. The Two Suns match looks like it's ready to go in a few. Let's take a squadron each and see how well we do." Sultana does not have the Tactics skill, if that's the appropriate skill to use.

"If you haven't played before, it is a bit hectic. I have Marine Academy Tactics, and they are Ground-pounder focused. Luckily, this is a game, and nobody dies. So, we get to play with what-ifs. You just need an account, and we're in.". Mikhel taps away at the keyboard and then, gestured Sultana to enter his account info.

"I've already signed in. I've had an account since the Academy. They use Battle Tables for teaching Tactics on ground battles. So, with this being a Naval fight, we'll be on somewhat fair footing, if you are new. I'll coach you on the controls, and the player with the lower score between you and me buys the last round."

Sultana went through the setup process and chose his squadron, Valcana Flight of the 134th Fleet. "Alright. All set up. Time to fly?" He plays around with the controls a bit. "It's a bit similar to some systems we had in training, but a lot's changed since then."

'I've chosen completely random. We'll see where we end up..."

A bit of waiting for the players to fill up the roster, and for the game to assign positions. Mikhel, signed in as 'Ekag066', ended up in the Zhodani 1st Assault Fleet, with a Ipltsiedle class Destroyer Escort squadron of 8 ships (J4 4G, 1200T) under Commander Benshatl (Low Strategy, but High Tactical rating). The Escorts had a crew of 35 per ship, with no boarding party troops. These were light reconnaissance ships, and likely to be used for screening or flanking. Mostly, they were for nuisance value. It will depend on where the Fleet Admiral deployed him. He may not last very long. The Allamu story comes to mind.

(One of the Imperial Players types): "Hey, Ekag066! What is a Duct Spider called in Zhodani? 'Ipltsiedle'?"

Mikhel types in a message to the Zhodani team Admiral on the Zho Channel. On the All Player channel, Mikhel types;

"Imperial Player casting shade, you're squadron of dreadnoughts is too fat and slow to do anything like catch my speedy, little bugs. And the person directing them probably has the mental agility to match. Come get me!"

Lt Sultana doesn't join in with the trashtalking filling the chat logs, preferring to concentrate on trying to figure out the controls and not fly his ships into collisions with themselves.

"I've been told!" Mikhel points out the Zho chat channel to Sultana, "Elegantly put, but if you don't know Vilani, it tells me to, the polite translation is 'shut your disease-ridden, animal mouth,' if I understand the nuance correctly. The admiral obviously knows the origin of my account name. And then, gives me a neat order. The Zho admiral is actually familiar with the ships, it seems. If I go with my 'plan', it would be like throwing tin foil at a cannon ball, but less effective. I've been ordered to make like a Remora on some cruises and go EmCon (the stricter form of radio silent: turn absolutely everything off). The cruisers are making a feint on the left flank. I'm to hide in their shadow and wait to break away. If the cruisers can pull the ships to the flank, I'm to break away to ravage the tanker squadron in the Imperial rear. That looks like a really good move! Let's see if I get anywhere mear the tankers." And the ships start maneuvering.

While he manages to fly his squadron reasonably well and coordinated towards the enemy, he is taken by surprise by a sweeping attack from a more experienced player. It doesn't take long for his ships to be destroyed or disabled. {Unskilled Tactics: 5-1 = 4} (rolled offline as FGU wasn't up at this time)

The cruisers, being much more substantial, punch a hole in the left flank. The Plankwell dreadnoughts come to reinforce the position. Mikhel times his move, as the Plankwells, though big, are faster than Mikhel's tiny escorts. Mikhel breaks, still under EmCon, and runs for the tankers. The Zho cruisers were getting hammered, but the Plankwells had to deal with them, and couldn't run after the bugs. Until it became obvious what the target was. The Plankwells turned, and chased after the bugs. It didn't take long, but the Plankwells gained on Mikhel's escorts.

Using 'line-of-sight' laser Comms, Mikhel sends to all Gnat Squadron ships, "Implement Maneuver Plan Julliette, three minutes. Mark!"

On the mark, all eight ships started zig-zagging in unison. This didn't stop missiles from tracking in, but missiles could be seen approaching. Beams were detected when they hit. With the escort squadron zig-zagging in an unpredictable pattern, the shots by the Plankwells would likely miss. And with the escorts between the Plankwells and the tankers, the shots that didn't hit the escorts, hit the tankers. Just as Mikhel started punching holes in the tankers, he was taken out. The unintended side effect for the Imperials was that overshots by the Plankwells hit some of their own tankers. It was brutal, but mercifully quick. Mikhel was out of the game.

The feint at the tankers was almost futile. Mikhel and Sultana were now spectators. Sultana did do more damage with his ships, but the table was still calculating points. Moves that happen at the beginning of a battle can affect the outcome, so subsequent moves are rated, and build or detract from starting moves. The Zho cruisers savaged the left flank. Mikhel's escorts did very little, but the Zho Admiral wasn't really planning on a successful rear hit. It would have been nice, but it was the plan within a plan. The trash talk helped, actually. The Plankwell got to crush the bug. But, he left the cruisers unchallenged on the flank, and although they also got smashed,the damage they caused was devastating. The end result was almost the same. However, the Zhodani admiral pulled out a Marginal Defeat, not a huge loss, as was the historical result. Defence of the Spinward Marches after this result would have been much tougher. The Zhodani side got quite a few points, and almost pulled out the win. Mikhel's ships got a bucketful of strategic points. It was almost enough. Mikhel was buying the drinks.

Side note: The Plankwell commander didn't do so well, score-wise, as he was put in a bad situation, and made it worse shooting up Friendly ships.