Jumpcraft Mjollnir
Unidentified Location, Republic Sector
1824 VST, February 4, 2482
Synnove walked through the main walkway which led to the Mjollnir’s command level. She had just been in the jumpcraft’s electronic warfare level observing preparations for an all-out attack her craft and crew were going to make.
The Mjollnir, like the Dragonfly, possessed nothing which could be considered traditional weaponry such as lasers and hyperrifles. Instead, its offensive and defensive systems consisted of a myriad of electronic sensors, processor cores, and transmitters.
The locking mechanism of the command level access doors hummed and clunked, allowing the doors to slide open just in time for Synnove to walk through. The thick doors slid closed less than two seconds after she entered the large command area. Ulrich stood next to his command chair with his hands clasped leisurely behind his back.
“Are you sure you want to go through with this,” Ulrich asked as Synnove took her seat.
“Why wouldn’t I,” she responded, “This is the only remaining option.”
“And a dangerous one. One that might very well get yourself and the rest of us killed.”
She glanced at Ulrich, “You’ve reservations? If so just say so. But I thought that out of everyone here I could count on you the most.”
Ulrich tilted his head back ever so slightly, as if to roll back on his heels while considering something, then turned slightly to face the large windows at the front of the command level.
"Are we ready," he asked the communications officer.
"Just give me the word and I'll let you know when you're clear," the commo responded.
"Do it," Ulrich instructed.
Several moments passed as the electronic warfare and comm techs activated dozens of systems. Receivers within the Mjollnir fed raw data into large computer banks where encryption keys were derived from the streams of data. These keys were used to encrypt audiovisual information which was transmitted out of the craft.
The commo gave Ulrich the all clear signal once the thousands of transmission streams had stabilized.
- - -
Markgraf William Augustus Bowles sat behind his desk leaning back in his chair slightly. Across from him Markgraf Thomas Hutchinson sat legs crossed, a glass of brandy in one hand and a cigar in the other. Finished with ultra-rare woods, stones, and metals from across known space, William's office was luxurious even by the standards of the nobility.
"I must say that things went off without a hitch," Thomas remarked as he took a draw from his Churchill cigar, "Much better than I thought they would."
William took a sip from his glass, "You should have a bit more faith in my people. I said that I would make sure things got done the right way the first time. No screw ups."
"Good work in any case," Thomas responded.
The two turned their plush chairs slightly towards the large flat-panel screen mounted on the wall as William turned the channel."
"Hmm," he said stopping when he saw an off-road race, "Did you happen to catch the start yesterday?"
Just as Thomas was about to respond, the screen went blank then changed to a black background with images of the Bandera Imperial, CRDJE flag, seal of the Reichstag, and the shields of the Kaiserreich and House Rupertsen superimposed on it.
"What the hell is this," William said switching channels, "It's on every channel."
"No screw ups," Thomas asked.
"Oh quiet, this has nothing to do with that. Probably some technical issue with the emergency notification system."
Several seconds passed before an image of Synnove's from the chest up replaced the symbols. The plain black behind her made it hard to guess just where she was, whether an office in a building, studio on a dropcraft, or command level of a jumpcraft. The only clue was her spacejumper which was completely white save for the small black piping along the shoulders, down the arms, and down each side of her torso. White uniforms were only worn by those in the Air Force when planetside, and only in formal situations. A uniform's piping indicated the specialty of the wearer, which in the case of black indicated unregistered. Black was commonly referred to as the 'don't ask' specialty.
Synnove spoke, "To all listening or watching, this is the former Reichsgraf Synnove Rupertsen, now Kaiserreich Synnove Rupertsen."
"Today I come to address the executive, congress, judicial, Sectors, States, and individuals of our Republic."
"For the executive, you have a duty to comply with your Oath of Office. If you fail to comply you present yourself as a domestic enemy of the Sectors, States, and people; and I will assist, with the resources at my disposal, organized resistance to any domestic enemies."
"For the Republic's defense forces, you have a duty to comply with your Oath of Office. If you fail to comply you present yourself as a domestic enemy of the Sectors, States, and people; and I will assist, with the resources at my disposal, organized resistance to any domestic enemies."
"For the Congress, you have a duty to comply with your Oath of Office. If you fail to remove any executives who disregard their Oath of Office, you present yourself as a domestic enemy of the Sectors, States, and people; and I will assist, with the resources at my disposal, organized resistance to any domestic enemies."
"For the Judicial, you have a duty to comply with your Oath of Office. If you fail to remove any executives or congressmen who disregard their Oath of Office, you present yourself as a domestic enemy of the Sectors, States, and people; and I will assist, with the resources at my disposal, any organized resistance to domestic enemies."
She continued on with the same general message directed at the Sectors and States.
"And for the people. Should these portions of government become domestic enemies by failing to comply with their Oaths of Office, I will exercise my power as Kaiserreich to combat said enemies using all means at my disposal."
The screen returned to the symbols on a black background as Synnove finished her comments. Less than as second later the lights dimmed momentarily as generators within William's palace complex switched on due to a loss of power on the main grids.
William slammed his glass down onto the desk, brandy splashing out of it, "She can't do this!"
"She can't do what? I seem to recall both of us consistently voting to give her mother's company defense contract after defense contract. Let's not even mention how many research, construction, medical, and other projects these companies were involved in. This is what we get. Face your fate. If you thought we could get away with killing her parents you're insane .You're going to die, as will I, and numerous others," Thomas calmly said before taking another puff from his cigar.
- - -
Flieger Andrew Smith relaxed in his chair doing crosswords as he conversed with the other two techs in his compartment. The back of the chair he sat in reclined almost completely, comfortable enough as long as there was a console to put his feet on.
"I can't wait till this alert is over," a tech said, "alert sucks."
"It's been a long one, but better than sitting in the office," Andrew responded as he marked his book.
"Whatever," the other tech smirked, "I don't understand how you like alert."
Andrew looked up at the tech, "best job in the Air Force, if you don’t like it you can…."
Andrew's cut his comment short once he noticed the telltale sign of an impending power drop. The normally irritating sound of 400 hertz power that was induced along loudspeaker feeds began to drop in frequency.
"Power drop," Andrew yelled, "Shed the loads."
With less than two seconds to react, the tech was too slow to cut the power to even a single system before total power loss. The lights in the dropcraft went out, the only illumination coming from a few indicators and alarm lights running off the craft's battery power. A number of alarms sounded, each with a differing tone.
Andrew picked up his headset while the techs muted the alarms, "Cockpit, tech."
A moment passed before a crew chief responded, "Go tech."
"We just had a power drop."
"Yep, we're spooling number one right now," the crew chief informed Andrew.
The sound of a turbofan engine starting up outside the dropcraft was muffled by the hull and insulation. Crew chiefs had the engine up quickly, supplying power to dropcraft systems within ten minutes.
"Ground, tech," Andrew called.
The ground equipment maintainer responded, "Go tech."
"Any cause for that power drop?"
"No, looks like it's out at the panel."
The crew chief in the cockpit spoke up, "Uh tech, looks like it's out all over the base from up here."
"We can't get anything back up," a tech informed Andrew.
"What do you mean? Equipment's broke? You can't get circuits back up? What," Andrew asked.
"We can't get circuits up. They're all dead."
Andrew closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose gently between his fingers. His thoughts were quickly interrupted by the ear-piercing buzzing of the alarm mounted above his seat.
"Shit! Klaxon, and I think it's for real this time."
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