"This is Vice Admiral Michelle Collins of the Liberty Naval Third Fleet. Officers, gentlemen. We'll await the time when we'll start..."- There was a message. Michael asked to adjust the frequency, and then, as soon as he received an answer that he could start talking, he replied:"This is admiral Michael Blackburn, Sixth Liberty Navy Fleet. Michelle Collins, glad to see you in the Coronado system. Please proceed to the point D3. Our ships will be waiting for you there..." "Mr. Blackburn, Admiral,"- said Crayter Fighter again, -"We have identified numerous signatures of the military of Bretonia and Liberty near our hole in the Cortez system. They say they also came to the talks. Can you confirm?" "Yes, I confirm. This is the third fleet and diplomat from Bretonia." "Accepted. Our ships will escort them, according to instructions."- With these words, the fighter left the group of the sixth fleet and headed to where Blackburn came from. In less than a minute, another person came into contact - Michael had not seen him for a long time, but his voice still remembered:"Admiral Blackburn, I feel the need to inform you that I and my wing have arrived and are willing to meet you on the deck, or some place else should you wish for a different location. I hope to see you soon." "Captain, this is Bretonia Armed Forces, their encryption,"- reported Albert. "Aha, set the communication channel." "Already." "Victor, it's good to see you here and now. This is Michael. Promote your group in sector D3. You should have met the wing of the Crayter Military fighters that will escort you. At least, so said one of them..."
I am not my brother sir. I am Edmund Steiner, and we are with your fighter wing now. How soon will we be able to begin once we have landed, and who else are we expecting?
Before a response could come through, a message rang on his ships communication beacon, something from Admiral McIntire which he'd answer as soon as they landed, but not in the middle of a conversation, that would just be rude.
"Voices are similar, forgive forgiveness,"- said Michael. -"Nevertheless, move to the specified quadrant. As for who we expect, then in the list: the third fleet, Crayter Military, 15 Marine Expeditionary Unit. All in this system, except 15th. If we all get together, but they will not, then we will have to exclude them from the negotiations."
That's quite alright sir, we have arrived at your specified location and are awaiting your permission to land. I will see you on the deck shortly I hope, then we can finally begin these discussions.
"So far the whole group will be in space, then from the sixth fleet a neutral ship will be provided, on which we will hold negotiations",- said Michael and switched to frequency with the third fleet:"Third Fleet, report your status! Bretonia is already there, we are waiting for you. In addition to you there is still a Crayter, but they are also on the way. What about you?"
"We're ready," the Vice Admiral announced. The Turner Joy idled into the grouping of ships, a shuttle hanging off her starboard mooring handle, prepared to take Collins to the negotiations ship.
"Ma'am, long range scans are reporting a message from Admiral Ferguson."
"Log it. I'll read it later. Let Mark know I'm about to take the shuttle over."
"Yes, ma'am." The ensign logged the message, leaving Michelle to focus on the situation at hand, prepped to take the shuttle over.
Aboard CFV-Aeacus, Coronado, 1730 Crayter Standard Time
Michael opened his Communicator and began the encryption sequence. Just a couple of seconds later, encryption was complete. Then he called Admiral Blackburn. "Good day, Admiral, we are in need of your coordinates and what is taking so long of Third Fleet. It seems they are delayed. I presume Bretonians are with you." He then closed the Communicator and looked at Captain Xander. "Captain, call the Crayter fighter that escorted them here and ask him about coordinates." Captain answered "Right away, Sir." "Jester-1, this is Aeacus CIC. Give us your coordinates, over.""Aeacus CIC, we are at Barrier Cloud at the moment. Sixth Fleet and Bretonian Squadron is here with us, however Third Fleet is on a delay." Admiral heard the answer in a disappointment and mumbled. Xander nervously looked at Admiral and cleared his throat, then answered the pilot. "Direct them to Grid C/D-4 when Third Fleet finally moves their backs! Over.""Roger. Proceeding to move. Over." "Admiral Blackburn, new orders came, sir. We are to move at grid C/D-4 as soon as Third Fleet arrives. Over." Richard mumbled again and wondered if kebabs were ready...
LNS Tarawa limped around Planet Curacao, hugging tightly the edge of its atmosphere to mask it on long-range scanners from any Gallic patrols trying to run the Yukon gauntlet. Fire and smoke oozed from the maw of a cavernous hole blown through the hull by a lucky torpedo.
On the bridge, the ventilation system groaned at the task of clearing the dusty, fuel vapor-laden air so that the crew could remove their respirators. They had come to the aid of a pair of Liberty Navy fighters who had bit off more than they could chew, and in return found their own vessel chewed up almost beyond recognition.
Colonel Ed Kirk crushed the arms of his captain's chair, turning his fists stark white. Nearly all of his Marines had disembarked days before, but the damage control team that had gone down to the loading deck to put out the fires before that hit...
He shook his head. He sang drill songs to himself, pushing away the ghastly sight of those firemen drifting through space on the hull cam. Iced from head to toe, they were like morbid statues left to wander the Cortez system for as long as the war went on. Not worth the risk to fly out and grab corpses when they straddled the front line.
Their screams, though hours expired, echoed silently between every man and woman on the bridge. At first panic, and choking. Following the strain of a body fighting its last battle to survive long after its own time were the final pops and cracks of the frigid vacuum claiming its victims.
"Major McCandless, time to rendezvous?"
"We're coming up on the Coronado hole in just a few minutes. We'll swing wide around Baja and be over Yuma in less than an hour."
Ed Kirk wrung his hands. He scraped away dried blood, and his eyes scanned the deck displays.
"DC crew amidships," he shouted into his communicator over the din of command and chaos, "report on battle telephone?"
"Hello? Sir, hello?" the voice on the other end was unfamiliar, and crackling.
"Amidships, this is Colonel Kirk. Is everything alright down there?"
"DCPO is down. Most of that team is still down. I'm... I'm doing what I can down here, sir."
Ed waved at his XO. He nodded and took a working party off of the bridge with him.
"Major is on the way. How many are with you?"
"Eight wounded and myself, sir. Lines still critically damaged. I'll need men from another locker."
"I have men coming down."
"Aye sir."
Ed Kirk silenced the line. He stood up and walked to the front of the bridge.
"Helm, time to Coronado?"
"Six minutes, sir."
"Then let's hope they're waiting for us. We need all the help we can get right now."
Michael, like some king, was seated on the captain's seat of the gunboat New Oregon. He was waiting for the answer from Crayter, as well as the fleets of Bretonia and Liberty...
"Sir, Crayter answered us!"- reported Albert. - "They said that we should change the location to the square C/D-4." "Open transmission with them, please",- said Michael. "Yes... Wait... Opened!" "This is Admiral Michael Blackburn, the sixth Liberty Navy Fleet. Admiral Michael Richard, we discussed with you where the meeting will take place. Everything is almost ready, we are expecting you and 15th marine unit. Come to us! Michael out..."
While the whole group was gathering, the forces of Bretonia and the third fleet have already approached the meeting point. Both groups were ready to start negotiations. It remained to wait for Crayter Military and the 15th marine unit.
"Captain Williams, we got one more signature on scanners! It's... Liberty Navy Ship, Theta-Gold-Amber-Twelve. Quick scan of long range scanners shows, that this vessel is dealing with heavy armor damages. Looks like this ship belongs to 15th Marine Corp. Any orders, Captain?" - the voice of radio operator broke the silence on captain bridge again. Adrian rolled his eyes. It seems, that nothing can just go its way without any problems. He remembered, that he needed to stay here, on this place to prevent any single Gallic ship from entering the jump hope to Coronado, but he couldn't leave his brothers in arms as well. Between the order and the sense of honor and humanity he chose the second option.
"Radio operator, connect me with the admiral Blackburn." - he gave this order and leaned in his chair. Few moments later connection to New Oregon was estabilished.
"Admiral, this is the captain of LNS Maine Adrian Williams. We got the first ship of the 15th Marine Corp on scanners. She is heavly damaged and it looks like, that they need our help. I will leave the couple of fighters from the Epsilon wing here, while we will move to their position. We are requesting additional forces and premission to enter Coronado space in case if hostile forces will be superior. Captain Williams is out."
Another one sip from his jar. "Engineering desk, activate cruise engines, navigation officer set destination to planet Curacao. Radio operator, connect me with the ship of 15th Marine Corp."
"The captain of LNS Tarawa, this is the captain of LNS Maine Adrian Williams. We see you on scanners. Your current state of affairs? We are coming to help you. Hold on, help is coming."
The glorious hull of the Liberty siedge cruiser slowly turned to the side of Curacao planet. Cruise engines charged and in a moment ship started moving to the position, increasing her speed with each second.
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