CSG 3 Unit Origins
In the later months of 2938, Rear Admiral Glen Wade approached the UEE Navy with a plan to extend the UEE presence along the Vanduul border. Citing recent incursions by Vanduul on satellite human colonies and the presence of imbedded human resistance in the area, Wade drew up plans for the formation of a new fleet. Drawing on volunteers from across the UEE naval ranks, those plans were filled out and submitted to the UEE Military Council.
For a time, it looked as though the plans were going to go through. Rosters were drafted and submitted, requisitions submitted and resources pooled. Then, on the eleventh hour of the project, funding was suddenly pulled. The UEE military council explained the issue as being one of budget cuts and a new UEE directive to concentrate on the borders with the Banu, as well as increasing their presence around Terra.
Wade was offered a choice. Since his upcoming commision was no longer an option, he would be given a desk job at Terra or a generous retirement package. Wade, believing his proposal was still in the best interests of humanity as a whole, took retirement.
Several others did as well. Joined by other staff officers formerly under his command, as well as experienced fighter pilots recently mustered out of service, Wade ventured out into the border. There he made contact with a pocket of human resistance who had spent centuries fighting for survival on the border. These refugees claimed to be descendents of those who once fled from Virgil and in them he found his rallying cry.
Resurrecting the name of Carrier Strike Group 3, men and women brave enough to take the fight to the Vanduul brought their ships and their lives to the reborn cause. He promised them a chance retake their homes and make the border once more safe for humanity. This time they could do so without the red tape and political short-sightedness of the UEE military.
This time they would free Virgil once and for all.
"The Lament of Virgil - the CSG 3 Legend"
For thousands of years, we imagined ourselves alone in the universe. We reached into the stars with no fear, traveling faster, spreading in our home systems. In time, we saw the day when our reach could go no farther and there would be nowhere else to go.
And then we discovered Virgil. It gave us the galaxy and with it our Empire would surely know no boundaries. We dreamed far from home, spreading still further to Tiber, to Orion.
Those dreams blinded us, for when we looked back to our blue planet, it was lost in the light of distant stars. We were a proud people and always the strongest. In our hubris, we believed we were too powerful to be challenged.
We were trespassers.
When they came for us, we attacked. But these were not like the others, they did not cower and they did not die. They slaughtered us without mercy, taking no prisoners and capturing no ground. They simply killed. Harvested.
And our Empire made their first retreat, abandoning Orion to the destroyers. They came to Virgil and where once we dreamed in peace, now we saw only nightmares of war and death.
But ours was a proud people and we did not cower. In the death throes of Orion and Tiber, our guardians were born. They rose up from the fields and stepped into the stars with swords in hand. For Virgil was our home and here we would stay.
Until it was gone.
Those guardians saved those who could be saved, took their people to Vega, back to Sol. They asked the Empire for help, pledging themselves to the Navy should an offensive be launched. No such thing occurred. The lost systems, they said, were only a memory and a lesson.
The old ones called them the Lost Generation. Many of those who lived stayed adrift among the stars, clinging to their guardians like nomads searching for hope. They sang the lament of a carrier lost to legend, its warriors, our guardians, adrift among the celestials.
Today, Carrier Strike Group 3 still holds power for the descendants of those long lost refugees. If you ask, you will likely hear of an elite militia, upholding our Empire on the edge of free space.
But if you ask the right person, you may hear a different story, a different legacy. They look to the light of distant stars and say that there once was a dream far from home.
And there will be, again.