Ho-ly crap.
Part 3.
No more Kuznetsov/Carson intros.
Hope y'all are still enjoying~!
Here goes nothing!
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"By the order of the Council, the National Crisis Provision has been invoked. All off-duty naval personnel are hereby recalled for temporary service. All available warships are thus ordered to muster at the Endura Systems Naval Authority. Please note that the National Crisis Provision permits the navy to possess any commercial or personal starship that falls into the Series-A weight class, as defined by Clause 90-Type-B."
Lyctove took an hour off to cleanse the shock of the Council actually functioning. Really, he felt like a month as isolated as possible from politics wouldn't be too much to ask.
The National Crisis Provision was invoked with only one subsector dissenting. It was, by all accounts, unanimous — such solidarity hadn't been seen in the Republic since the Resource Wars. Not even prosecuting the Border War with the Coalition saw such universal support.
Lyctove didn't take pride in such a momentous occurrence. He had devoted the majority of his adult life to serving the state - it was heartbreaking to realize that the nation he now presided over wouldn't work mutually unless under threat of annihilation.
Regardless, it was a historic moment. The National Crisis Provision had only ever been invoked twice -- once during the Secession War and once predictably at the onset of the Resource Wars. The Provision was invasive and expensive -- it immediately ordered the mustering of the entire "available" navy at the Endura Systems Naval Authority. An armada of starliners, cargo haulers, puddlejumpers, and personal yachts had already been temporarily expropriated -- Clause 90-Type-B alone would strain the Republic's treasury, as it ensured hefty compensation for any starcraft possessed. Generally, that compensation was monetary.
The Terminus Gulf -- part two of the recently-christened "Operation Sentinel" -- was a stretch of Republic territory home to the three most powerful enterprises in the galaxy - Reiner Heavy Industries, Iasaka Interstellar Incorporated, and Soarson Manufacturing. Needless to say, it was second only to the core in political power, and many systems in the Gulf likely surpassed even Oscomn in wealth. Despite this, it had a history of working as essentially a dumping ground for Rimworlders during times of emergency, and as such, had the resources to deal with such a vast influx of people. Of course, a relocation this massive cost a lot and raised the valid question of whether or not it would be more economical to simply update the Rim's protection. Lyctove's response was that, according to the Council, it wasn't. Anymore.
There was also the fact that a large part of the Rim was still under martial law.
This was a blessing and a curse. Coordinating a military evacuation was obviously easier when the military possessed authority, but the military only possessed authority because the Rim didn't want Republic authority. With any luck -- or if Rimworlders had any common sense these days -- they wouldn't let politics get in the way of their safety.
A dazzling burst of light signaled the arrival of a new Republic battlegroup. The command cruiser -- none other than a Centurion-class -- still bore the scars of battle, dragging a rent and battered bow down as it dropped into formation with a dozen smaller craft. Four puddlejumpers had been stationed on the corners of the Endura Systems Naval Authority, directly coupled to massive power generators, ferrying flotillas of warship amalgamated with private assets to the Rim. Yachts, liners - even a prison ship, Lyctove noted with mild surprise. Naturally, humanitarian starcraft of all shape and size were present as well, from tiny, four-or-five man shuttles to the enormous mobile hospitals of the Public Welfare Implementation & Development Institute.
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Dimension
Science FictionLanguage warning for the actual novel. Paragon. A dying galaxy, exhausted of all but the most basic natural resources and home to three failing superpowers. A great war tore the galaxy apart two and a half centuries ago, and still, the scars are viv...