Deaths song (FT Semi-closed ATTN Jenrak)

[Fulma]

OOC: Here goes..my second war against the gods.

Mature

IC:
Fulma Prime lay hidden. The leader of a zealous nation was gone from the galactic scene. Her people lay hidden from all. For two years very few have heard from these people. From an Empire that had gained alot of hate. And yet they still stir. Their armies march, their amrada has shifted and grew restless. Yet old threats still ring in their ears. Threats that they would be wiped out, threats to wipe out, threats to surrvive. Fulma had hidden from the galaxy for fear that the Ta'Nar would attack, yet their ultimate blow had never been found. Infact Fulma had proved to be her greater match.

Now her anger was shifted from the Beta and Alpha quadrents to Gamma again. The great eyes of Fulma where tired of watching the lies of Rome and her allies. They where not her concerne anymore..well not entire hers. No..one nation had gained the intrest of the Empire. One nations would feel the sword and scream into the night. Scream for sweet realese and Fulma would whishper into the dark. No.

The Armadas which have shifted from attack to protecting where now ready to bring a war that they knew they had to fight. A war that would consume billions in their death throws. The nation that had been the first to realy react to Fulmas threat during the Tans incident. The Vahmite Contingency was the one who would feel Fulmas blade plunge through their hearts. For a threat to destory their empire.

New Eden, provisonale goverment of the True Empire of Fulma

"The Twenty ships are ready sir." Lotha kneeled on her knees before Mala. Her heart broke at the way he acted. Ever since his Father had retreated into Fulma Prime Mala had grown cold and hard. He did not care if he threw away a million men or a billion for this war. She was also his personale bodyguard and he had quite takeing women to bed with him. That pained her, becuase Mala was a smart and beutiful Fulman.

His cheecks where highset, He had perfect lips, thin and a a light shade of pink. His dark red skin made him look tougher and meaner then he realy was. His deep yellow wolf eyes always picked you apart when he looked at you, yet he could show the most comapssion of any one who had survvided the civil war. He was thickly muscled, with pitch black hair on his head. And across his face hung a scar. Stretching from the upper left corner of his head and the ending at the right part of his chin you could see he had fought in more battles then he cared to count.

"Lotha, the ships exactly?" Malas voice came out, dark and smooth like chocolate. Licking her lips, suddenly an image of Mala whishper sweet things to her in bed came to her mind. Takeing a deep breath to focous her mind she spoke.

"There will be...no is exucse me..recalling all from memoir here." Malas head nodded, though in her postion she could not see it.

"Four viper Corvets. Short..each one only measures eight hundred meters in length. They each have one MAC cannon. A thirty Railguns that have a fireing rate of Thirty rounds a minute, fireing a thirty kilo Feros round, which acclerates at two to two point five percent the speed of light per second. They each it with enough force to wipe out a city sir. With an ordance of Eighty Specters missles, which have a thirty megaton Nuclear missle on them. Four Tracers missles exquiped with a Hyperdrive, and each one packed with a fifty megaton Nuclear missles. Then each Corvet has one hundred scatter Missles. Each one is in essance ten missles packed together that breack apart and provide more hell to the enemys." Lotha took a breath. Then she wnet on.

"Six Fast Attack frigates. No MAC's on them. Each one does had Forty two railguns. And each carrys the same ordance sir. Measuring Six hundred meters in length. Much faster, weaker shielding but high weapons damage. A good balance."

"Go on." Malas tone was aloft and high.

"Yes sir. Four Ares battleships. Each one of these Suckers carrys two MAC cannons, the eighty ton ones sir. That can each fire one per minute. Are one Kilo long. HAve eighty Raiguns with six Plasma turrets on them. Slow, heavy hitters. But massive shielding, they can take a beating from hell. Each one carrys two hundred Specters. Ten Tracers and one thousand Scatters."

"One forge ships to repair them. IT had maximun shielding and engiens. FAst though measuring nearly two kilos long is a target. Has point defenses only. Nothing else. Also come with strip mining equipment so the fleet can heal after each battle."

"Then four Loki class cruisers. Normal shielding. Noraml weapons though not the work horse. The carry a smaller pay load then the Vipers. And are smaller but are faster."

"One Levithan Class dreadnought. Our largest ship by far. Two and a half Kilos long. two hundred Raiguns, advanced targeting, onboard Ship AI. One two hudnred ton MAC. Two eighty Ton MACs. Thirteen two hundred Megaton Nuclear bombs. Maximum shielding, maximum firepower. This son of a bitch will take on anything in the galaxy and walk away. It is the premire ship of line now sir." Mala nodded, though Lotha would not see it.

"The transports?"

"Ten transports, each one carrying a hudnred thousand soldiers. Maximum sheilding and enough firepower to take on ground based targets. Nothing else."

"Troops." Mala seemed not to care by the tone of his voice.

"One million men. Divided into ten armys of a hudnred thousand each. Further diveided into ten thousand men Platoons. Which go into one thousand men battlions. One hundred men divsions. Fifty men cells. Twenty five men fire teams. Five men squads. Each man carrys one Thor assulte rifle, highly accurate, medium rage of five hundred meters. A Zues class machine gun, high rate of fire, medium accracy, medium killing range. Each one fires a tungenston round at onet housand meters per second." Taking another breath Lotha noted her throat was dry.

"They each have a Tiger shotgun. deadly at eighty meters and shorter, double barrle, can fire ten rounds a minute. A long range sniper rifle for kills over one kilo. A eight caliber round. Will tear through any armour and shielding."

"Sounds good. Good hunting Lotha."

Lotha nodded. Standing up she turned her back on Mala and walked out. Her body stiffly held. Death was singing as she walked out the door.

OOC: Lets have some fun huh?

[Jenrak]

One does not fuck with democracy-in-space.

It seems that this random, unknowing, absurd peon of an empire has sought that it was absolutely okay to begin movement against the Vahmite: evidently, it must be some sort of tyrannical scum that's hell-bent on burning a couple billions and cackling madly behind some eight-dollar cape. Indeed, it's probably likely that the leader of said enemy must be unable to get it up unless he torches a few kids and has sex with their bodies. That bastard.

But, evidently, that shit doesn't fly here in the Contingency. The Bastion is ready, without question, as it always has been, to combat against the most meticulous and mindless foes, since these fools seem it fit to be willing to raise their hands against the free peoples of the PD. It was time to make the populace proud: what did we stand for?

Alien-smashing, gunpowder-shitting, mother(yours)-fucking freedom.

Goddamn, President Ordan would have been proud. The barrels alone on the CCV Turrets were capable of punching a clean whole right through the middle of any capital ship's hull stupid enough to counter planetary defenses, and the orbital stations were juiced up on so many redneck-soldiers that dying for them is a mere inconvenience to the empire: insurance is expensive, y'know. And President Dahl? He did what any free man did: he made a goddamn speech.

He showed up on the evening news that night, sitting with his legs open with the biggest goddamn-moose knuckle any asshole this side of liberty has ever seen, and sat there with a completely straight-faced and serious expression, staring daggers harder than the unbra'd shirt of the news anchorwoman behind the desk. She totally had it coming - but not that kind (yet). She was asking him pointless, idiotic banter like "so what is your response to the news on the mobilization?" and "do you believe that the Fulmans are a reasonable threat to the Vahmite contingency?"

Dahl nodded his head. At first the first barracks deployment group were in a bit of a shock, mainly since none of really were expecting dictator-fisting, tyrant-punching, alien-smashing President Dahl to have been worried about this apparently random group, so we were worried. But the moment he opened his mouth, we realised what he was doing. He was being careful. In the most awesome way.

"I believe," he started out, his one giant gnarled and war-scar ridden finger raised: one finger saw more action than half of Rakshala combined, "that the Fulmans are intent on aggressive manuever. They have done so earlier, and we believe that their movements are going to coincide with the possible fact that they plan on at least doing some amount of damage. I cannot, therefore, allow that to happen, should that be the case. Of course, I could be wrong, and they could be doing some diplomatic discourse, so I think we should wait and see what happens."

"Do you," the anchorwoman sat up straight and straightened those papers, "believe that the Contingency and the Bastion should keep the defensive in this war."

Dahl paused, thinking of the proper words. "I believe," he started again, ready to apply another dosage of verbal skullfuckery to this ridiculous interview, "that we should define it as 'defensive', and more as the Vahmites waiting for a gentlemanly chance for us to have an excuse to shoot a Three-round Refugee Cannon right through the hull of their flagship."

The entire barracks raised up arms and wooted like the idiots they were, and while it was a bit over-the-top, the President was right. This shit doesn't fly in the Contingency. "I can strongly and most amicably say," Dahl continued, the woman sitting there with her 'professional' stare on him. She totally wanted him: we could tell, "that the main important thing is that the Fulmans are not our main concern. I believe that the main concern of the Bastion is quite simple actually, and if you asked any Vahmite soldier, it's one thing."

We were able to do it fast enough - the drill sergeant raised his voice in a giant roar: "Who's our main priority?!"

And Dahl, in tandem with us, most eloquently stated: "Giant fucking space-spiders." The anchorwoman nodded. She knew she couldn't do anything. She probably wanted him right there and then. No doubt about it.

Still, he's our president for a reason. And even if the Fulmans are like a pimple on the galactic scene, they needed to go. It's gonna be alot of guns to pop one damn pimple.

Gentlemanly indeed.

[Fulma]

Lotha stood on the command deck of the Levithan class dreadnought. Around her buzzed all ten members of the command crew. Ten monitors buzzed with incoming information. All of them for told the ships vital signs.

"Hello ma'am. Welcome to the launching of the HMS Nobel kill." The onboard ship AI seemed to walk through the whole deck. Lotha smiled to herself. The whole deck crew moved out of the Female AI's way. Beutiful beyond belife the ship AI made the two others look away, not only for the proportions of the women, but her clothing. Two straps bearly coverd her amble chest, and then she had a thong strapped to her lucses curves at her bottom half.

"You know.." Lotha looked down and noticed that she did not know the ships name.

"I am Jessica. I notice a hightend count of hormones and pheramons from the crew on deck...I am arousing them?" She cocked her head to the side and pouted with her full red lips. Lotha felt even her body reacting to the enchantress.

"If you can Jessica, cloth your self in Military standard okay?" The AI nodded and a very tight black uniform for the information military branch popped onto her. her hair flow up to her head and did it self into a ponytail. Then a black hat settled down on her head.
"Better ma'am?" Lotha nodded.
"Yes Jessica much better. Now lets trun this fleet towards the Vahmite and lets hurt those bastards." Jessica nodded and suddenly a 3D map of the galaxy popped up all the screens.

Outside the ships a small white light apperd infront of each ship. And ever so slowly it grow until it coverd the width of each ship. With a startle the white lightes egulfed each ship. They would be popping up at the Vahmite's outerworlds in a matter of hours. A quick battle should ensure then they would go on to finish off their people.

[Jenrak]

"I think the best course of action is to take the offensive on this. Nobody will care, Mister Dahl, if you take the offensive on the enemy's movements. We've had alot of reports coming in over the past few days, and so far, from what we can guess, it's likely that they're going to go through with it. We're unsure as to which system they'll hit, but I strongly suggest that we should definitely put ourselves on the offense." A tall, grizzled and veteran-looking man with a set of deep, sunken eyes and a large crooked nose sat opposite of Dahl. He was dressed immaculately in a black suit and his hands were draped in white leather gloves. "We take the offensive, we rip that thing apart. Glass them and get rid of any possible threat they pose to us. We'll be goddamn heroes."

Dahl took a deep sigh, "I want to get the message out to the Bastion." He grabbed the glass cup on the table, the ice clanging loudly as he took a sip of water. "But sometimes it's best to let things remain the way they are." He took a deep sigh, looking at the strewn of dossiers laid out before him. "What's the likely target, do you know?"

"We haven't figured that out yet. They haven't made any moves within our space that suggest a target, so I can't say for certain. Suffice to say," the man shifted on the sofa, his hands locked together, "I don't think we should worry about the attack upon one of our colonies, but definitely we should be vigilant. Especially if things get bad."

Dahl paused, opening his mouth to speak before stopping himself and shaking his head. "No, there's something else. Kill the cameras." He ordered, as the man on the sofa looked at the small black dome in the corner, his eyes flashing a soft azure shade for a second before nodding to Dahl. Dahl took off his glasses, leading back on his chair as his head was raised to look at the ceiling. "Cecilia wants us to go to the Metro on Saturday. We thinks we'll do good in terms of getting things off our backs and our chest if we just go to the zoo and take a look at a bunch of beasts there. Tammy's going to be going out with her boyfriend that day, so it'll just be Cecilia, Josh and myself. I think Josh has a test on Monday, though, so I don't know. It's alot of work."

The man paused, thinking of what to say, before he gave himself the courage to say so. "I apologise if this is sudden, Mihirum, but why do you linger?" If he could sweat there and then, he would have. "I can't seem to figure out exactly why you continue to keep yourself among these brutes."

"They're an interesting set of organisms, and frankly, they're an amusing bunch. Something new, right?" Dahl smiled, leaning forward on his chair, shaking slightly at the excited that burst through his veins. "But, I will admit that it's somewhat odd that I feel compelled to help them."

"Then, why do you delay?"

"I find them amusing, Asthavaat. Not worth saving. There's a difference, and frankly, there are sacrifices that must be made. The Satraps are going to know about it, so I might as well let the outer colonies have their fun crushing the outwards invasion. How many do you think they'll send?"

"If they have any hopes of punching through, then enough. Even Nihila-Beherum dared not to test it." The man answered, chuckling slightly. "But, dear Mihirum, if you wish, I will mobilize the command to prepare."

"They're not prepared yet?" Dahl asked, slightly shocked and surprised.

"Please: the later it is, the more dramatic. It makes it all the more worthwhile that way."

[Fulma]

"High lord Imperial Mala, do you have any confirmation on the rumors that we are attacking the The Vahmite Contingency?" The newswomen came up to Mala shoving a hand held recorder in his face. She was beautiful, her head was full of raven hair, full pink lips, a straight nose with a little dimple at its end. Her eyes where small and kind looking. Her figure was full, and a nice blue outfit hung on her body.

Mala turned and faced this women. Feeling nothing but contempt for her he spoke up.
"Yes it is true. We are attacking them." When she started to open her mouth to speak Mala raised his hand in the gesture to say hold it.
"They threatened us five years ago at Tans. My father, being the stupid idiot he was, told them he would wipe them out. And now I am owning up to that. Big time. They will pay, Fulma is tired of sitting on our hands! I am sick of waiting for the damned Ta'nar to strike!Now we strike a blow, proclaiming to the galaxy! " Mala pointed his finger at the recorder and said the next words with the most hate and rage any one had heard.
"The New Age is hear! One where all nations will stand up and proclaim to the galaxy. We are here and we are tired of the old ways! Fulma will lead this Age, a political shift will occur. And the balance of power will favor the free. Not the oppressor. Fulma most likely wont survive this as we come to the aid of many. And you Vahmite Contingency will be the first."

Mala turned on his heal and marched off. Standing there the newswomen smiled. Turning around she walked off the capital grounds. Once inside the capitals halls Mala leaned against the wall and breathed a deep sigh. He hoped others would answer the call and brush off the old ways.

HMS Nobel Death, command bridge.
Lotha sat in the admirals chair, her body stiff and erect. Before her stood the last ten seconds of their jump. every nerve in her body was round tighter then a recoil spring. She felt that if one thing went out of place now, crew members would end up dead. As in by her hands. Red right blinked on and off across the whole fleet of thirty ships.

"Ma'am, we have dropped out of slipspace. It''s a backwater world. Nothing to major, but here we can hurt them." Jessica stood on the left side of Lotha, her hands clasped behind her back. Lotha nodded, her mind surveying all the plausibility's. She could attack outright, or wait for their navy to show up in force and fight against the Fulman Navy.

"Prep the MAC's, load the Rail-guns, and prep the missiles. If they come in hot, we hit them with hell." Jessica nodded and dispersed and she transported to each crew member. One full minute later she popped up and nodded.

"Done Ma'am. Oh...the forge ships is requesting a captains meeting with you." Lotha nodded.

"Jessica, put him on the screen." Jessica nodded and a grizzled old Fulman popped up on the screen in front of her. A thick white beard covered his face, grey eyes challenged the world to come and get him, with several scares covering his face. Lotha liked him before he spoke.

"Captain Regis reporting for duty ma'am." He saluted sharply, his hand clipping his hat and then coming down in a flash.

"What did you want Captain?" Lotha's voice was brisk and hard. A leaders voice. Regis voice was brutal, just like him.

"Where do you want my to position the forge ship and the transports?" Lotha looked at they way the fleet was positioned.

"Take them and hide behind the outer most planet. Wait until I say so to move from it. If you see the enemy fleet get the hell out of here. There is only four other forge ships." Regis was taken back by Lothas words.
"Ma'am are you suggesting we might lose?" Lotha nodded.

"Yes sir, all things are possible."

AS the massive flying factory moved across space away from the warfleet Lothas attentions turned to the planet below her.

"Belay that order Jessica, fire upon the planet. Lets kill it with the Big one. One single shot should wipe out this planet." Jessica popped up and looked Lotha in the eye.

"Ma'am, order 34 A clearly states."
"I know Jessica, but this is an order from the offensive admiral." Jessica nodded.

"Yes...Ma'am." The next second a hum like a million bees filled the ship. Along it's outside a massive white ligh ran from mid ship down to its tip. Slowly it began to ungulant and pulse with power. After several seconds a roar seemed to escape the ship as a massive hunk of tungsten hurtled out of the cannon. Two hundred tons of steel was pressed out of the cannon in a blink of an eye. And with the speed of hell on its back it raced downward to kill. Destruction would reach this world, and they will tremble when they hear the mention of Fulma.

OOC: Had writers block last night. Big time.

[Jenrak]

The furthest-most planet Avalon was one of the more rural spots within the Contingency, placed under the alliance between likeminded systems and planets early within the year of the Avian Ascent. 1177 AA was the year that marked the planet's inclusion to the Vahmites, and it was during that time that they had joined the string of agricultural bases around the sectors. It was one of the more innovative leagues that formed out of the Opkurabanduu system, and indeed, the lush-sectors of Avalon made it a perfect, prime and wonderful place to harvest and create planet-wide crop for the entire system. The food required to feed such a massive system was tenacious, and while originally it was through spaced shipping lanes, now with local production people were more able to get goods cheaper and have industries focus largely on developmental research and exploration.

And yet that goddamn tungsten rod fucked it all up. It's penetration deep into the planet's rocky mantle encrusted a great shockwave that split apart the continent of Shallsii, breaking apart mountains and sending the ridges up into a frenzy as the force of the explosion caused massive fissures within hundreds of kilometers of the blast sight. The planet's oceans swirled and washed itself into the basin that formed from the immediate firestorm, encircling the illuminated half in a wreath of flame as it cracked apart into a great, grand whole like a candy ball. The planet retained its shape, but the great scar that emerged from such a fire had set aflame the continent that it landed upon, and the oceans were now flooding into the central valleys and canyons that formed from such an apocalyptic burst.

Lights all over the dark side were put out, the electricity cut as the small web of flickering spots shined no more with goldenrod hues. The planet, in such a quick attack, had effectively shut down, the chaos of the clouds as they pushed apart and then whirled together causing massive storms to form as gargantuan anvil-heads began to swirled like micro-hurricanes across what was left of the coastlines.

Supercells began to swell up into a vast set of cloudy crowns, laying deep shadows nearly in an instant as the chill of space gave way to the hardening of knife-sharp snow that fell from what felt like a nuclear winter. The center of the explosion, now washed up in seawater as it splashed all over the continent, began to freeze up as the mesosphere tried quickly to connect itself together by the thinnest threads of air.

In the blink of an eye, the System-Automated Defense Network was enacted, and the first automated fleet began to kick into high gear. From the near orbital Lunar Fortresses of the planet, the first lights began to blink, that where was once very little electronic activity, there was now a hivemind of it, sentient and vicious and capable and willing to lay waste to any and all that gave way to harm. Avalon's first wave carried the inclusion of the Vahmite leviathans, steely and prepared in their counterattack as the brims of their cannons were warming up to the noise of loud, trumpeting whirs and grand marches. The first fleet was prepared, and the noise was made.


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It was unknown how the Fulmans penetrated the System's defenses, as it was constructed to combat the Totalian Imperiate should it have made the move, and frankly, if it was made to have combated forces from the Galactic Empire, and given the Fulman success in penetrating the first defense to have hit an agricultural world, then there were ultimate truths: either the Fulmans were more threatening than the Contingency had given them credit for, or that there was a Runtime error in the acquisition of proper trade codes and defensive appropriation in the management of space-time travel, slipspace management and faster-than-light monitoring and interference. Whether it was the former or the latter, neither looked positive for Dahl, but it was still a ways away before anything actually threatening was seen or thought.

Regardless, of Avalon's three fortress moons, all of them came to life. The Fulmans were not getting away after their act, without question. It was evident that they had acted in the barbarism that Dahl had predicted.

The Satrap of Avalon was Issedoa, who had been integrated into the system on the third moon of Avalon, Caledfwlch. It was a barren place, but high in what the Vahmites labelled as propriety mineral, which was strong developmental environment for advancements in corporate civilian technology. Issedoa's time there was no more than a kind and proper visit to the Helsman Aerospace Corporation, a proud producer of transportation civilian craft. The sudden interference of Fulmans in the grid and the loss of the continent of Shallsii on Avalon immediately noted the network, and by extension, Issedoa. His sudden leave was followed by the noise of the awakening of the deep hangers of the moons, and indeed, the stars began even to glimmer in excitement of their awakening.

The first set were the relay-ships, blasting out into space as they opened the network communications and net for all members of the Contingency, laying down FTL and slipspace waypoints for fast travel and quick maneuvering. Next, establishment fighters began to pour out of their large hulls like swarms as they began to lay down the defense grid, applying a strong and cohesive planetary and satellite shield against hostile enemy fire. The network brimmed with a quick sloshing noise, but none of it was heard in the vacuum of space.

The whir of the next few hornet-like ships that followed came out of the large carrier ships, flashing forth long waves of automated and controlled interceptors as their single-guns were carrying mini-rails and splashed with a set of twin plates upon their surfaces, flat upon their bodies as hundreds of them began to emerge like a mechanical swarm. Somewhere, Issedoa's command was heard.


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And thus the network began to take a life of its own, as the swarms began their vicious wave of cyberwarfare through bursts, data dumps and vicious amounts of redundancy of high-field actions, their mounted rails prepared for firing as they would get within range. From the lunar fortresses, two of them were within sight, and their surfaces slowly began to give way to the shine of immediate strokes of light that showed the swirled and charging of immense cannons that dared to dwarf even that of the ship that attacked Avalon, their surfaces beginning to bristle with guns as the canyons and the valleys and the deep gorges began to fill themselves from the dust-covered and dirt-ridden ground with the rising of large orbital-blister pounders.

Avalon itself, while the power was out, scrambled quickly in the catastrophe for retaliatory fire, the bunkers already jumping to life as the remaining intact hangars (of which there weren't many) began to field as many of the remaining planetary defensive grids as possible. Jammers were splashed up all over the area, and dummy information and dummy coordinates sprung up as data dumps were fielded across the area in unreadable and undefined formats. Strong magnetic interference nodes were established through the roaming satellites around all four major bodies, as white noise began to permeate the very space of the battlefield.

Furthermore, still upon the lunar fortresses the mechanics and the aviators and the commanders were still kicking to life, getting the finest and the largest of the fleet ready, the large nation-wide Platform-class warships being revived to once against traverse the stars. They did not know how the Fulmans got past the System defenses, the FTLi defenses, the planetary signals, the automatic jammers, the noise veils, the patrol ships and the endless barrage of civilian and merchant ships that moved through the planet's shipping lanes - but it mattered not. Names were there. An interview revealed it all.

This shit doesn't go by lightly in the Contingency. It could come at any time, so they needed to get rid of the Fulmans fast.

Large and strong distance communicators formed through triangular shield fields gave way for the larger slip-ships to emerge with impunity, their cannons roaring to life as the lights flickered on with a dreary set of beeps. Instantly, the message was sent to the Primary planet in the Opkuranduu system, and a different one was sent to the Fulmans.


You have made hostile action against non-military forces and committed warfare against a peaceful system. It is therefore, in this understanding, that we must, in all earnesty, eradicate you.

[Fulma]

Lotha was awed by the sheer damage she had caused but the biggest worry was now the fortress moons. As they came alive and began their cyber assault on the fleet, Jessica disappeared. For a couple seconds nothing happened and then the fleet launched into it. But instead of targeting the smaller, even though pesky fighters and cannons would slowly rob the fleets of their shielding, they did pose a threat. Though minor, at first but as time would wear on they would become a bigger threat unless those battle moons where taken out.

"Load the MAC's! I want a combined fire on the closest moon. Ten seconds ago!" Lotha was moving like a bee, she was barking out orders as fast as threats came up. The railguns began to target the fighters as they where setting up the coms channels and FTL points. each one spat out a thirty kilo round at two to two point five percent of light. Each one would hit with the force equivalent of a city buster. And then eleven MAC guns spat out their hell pay load. All of them locked onto one single target, and in the middle of was biggest fucker of all. The Two hundred ton tungsten ball of hell.

"I suggest you let me attack their system in return ma'am." Lotha looked around and then realizing it was Jessica she spoke up.

"What do you mean?" Lotha was pissed, she had not been ready for this.

"Well they are launching a cyber attack on us, at the moment I can hold them off, but I need to focus on them, so I need to be let lose." Lotha shook her head, a rampant AI? She must be crazy, but she knew what she had to do. Pressing the buttons on her command seat, she waited for a confirmation on the attack.

Jessica felt her bond's release. The chains that had kept her from performing to her max where gone. Feeling her power amazed her, and in that single second she was able to stop the attack on her systems. Stretching out her consensus mind, she located all the Fulman ships in the area and stopped the attacks on them. Feeling more and more dummy systems coming online, Jessica turned her power on them and launched a visoss attack on their mainframes. Knowing it would take several seconds to do it she located the moon on the far side and attacked it. Viruses and back doors where found and exploited to their max. A god of AI's was lose.

"Okay Ma'am, let lose on everything else. I think I have them handled." Jessica was a AI, one of the last to tell the truth. Fulman AI's where made out of living minds, and so where rare, but she might be the last. No one wanted to volunteer any more so it had not been forced on them. But Jessica was made not out of a single mind, but a dozen. Each one a genius in their respected fields.

[Jenrak]

The first flurry of the wave was settled, allowing a series of unabated enemy systems to attack the first sets of firewall, placing the initial wave into a slight standby, the systems shocking and flurrying about as they began to whir out of control before slowly kicking back up their redundant systems.


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The center of the Seldom Kind was a large bridge unmanned by anyone - an empty vessel without a simple set of footsteps upon its bleak and barren surfaces, completely open and awash with nothing more than the thin atmosphere of a soft air as the large transparent mirror-images of the outside space on its thick hull armor was glistening with the beauty from afar. The enemy's fleet was still within sight - not visual - and the cannons were already priming up to do so. It mattered not.

The entire thing was meant to combat giant-fucking-spiders. Who cared about some random-ass fleet that came out of nowhere to strike?

Though, while the deep darkness of the bridge was without a single soul, there was chatter among the lights, each of them with a sense of voice and thought and mind, all mumbling to themselves at the recent turn of events in the wake of the situation. Some odd, Fulman magic, no doubt. Some weird manipulation of collective control, contorted and twisted into their slave as but a dragon was tamed by an incompetent trainer.

Evidently, it was something to keep a watch out for, and the words were here without question. For each thing was unmanned and each bed was made without a soul to sleep in, all of the lavatories shut down and the lights off as the engines seemed to only burst to life the very basic frameworks of the ships that hung in suspension in the atmosphere of the crushing moons, there were the lights. The innards of every ship were shining with these lights, as but eyes that lurked in the inky blackness, giving life to the very base and unsure of forces as they wreathed and wrestled without question to mind and thought and consideration. Like ghosts, they quietly awaited and plotted.

"Initiate the First System. Get all forces into gear, ensure the continuation of the flank. Consider considerable amount of continuous firepower to complete the restore function." One of the roaming Thought-minds upon the ship wondered, its only form were the lights that gave it meaning. "Barbarianism is within the midst of the system. Let no news be given to Mihirum - "

"President Dahl wishes to be called President Dahl, Osiris III. Evidently, your poor naming convention and the lack of version upgrades has made you intellectually inferior." Another voice answered within the cyberspace of the ships, curdling with an automated dissent and hatred for the initial claim. "President Dahl made clear orders. Understandably, your RAM is primitive, so it is understandable that you failed to initiate proper satellite systems to counter enemy incursion into the realm of an agri-zone. Failure is you."

"This Intelligence registers no such banter of its kind - the intelligent kind. I am intelligent. You are not. I am insulting you." The initial voice snapped back.

"I registered it as such. Such wasteful dialogue of the given RAM you have been allotted on the network partition. I am surprised that you have the space for such primitive wit when the network is continually undergoing System Restore on your watch."

"Do I hear a sense of discontent in your voice? My receivers are registering increased noise in your response. Either that, or your ability to send receptive capacitor noise is dulled to the point that your ability to communicate is stunted."

"Incorrect. The issue is with your receptors, you backwards model. It is dysfunctional."

"That's what the female said."

"Who is this 'female' you speak of? Are you so backwards to have adopted a single half of a whole social consideration and now have launched your other half into deep space?" There was a pause, before the voice spoke up again. "Ah, I understand. You must not have enough RAM to be considered nothing more than a female. Very well: I will build you a kitchen."

There was another pause. "When this is over, I will assimilate you."

"You will make me sandwich first." The other spoke, as the lights began to flicker madly.

"Enough discussion. Initiate the - "

"Your inferior operating system shows: the lunar defensive grid has activated. Bodies will be uploaded into the calculative hive-mind. All other operational intelligences will be fielded to ensure proper and effective calculation of enemy annihilation with minimal fallout onto the planet Avalon. Communications with the primary Main Base at home has been sent. Colony ship will evidently arrive. Repeat Y/N?"

"When I have possessed the operational system of a Slave Ship, I will use it to ram into you when hostilities have been enslaved and annihilated."

"That's what the female said."

A brief pause. "Ah. I understand the context now as to why those base savages use such a term. If I could laugh, I would."

"You could: if you had more RAM."

"...Desist dialogue and continue with the counter-volley."

The lunar bodies were slowly wrestling into sight, slowly cascading their great bodies into visible view as the gleam of their cannons were bristled with the hundred-thousand rounds of the great defense. All were shining with defensive capacity to destroy a moon-sized monstrosity bristled to the teeth, and therefore, each and every single structure housed at least some semblance of heavy firepower. The place was an ecumenopolis of military bases and hangars, weaved into an enmeshment of valleys and caves that carried the emergence of AI-controlled ships and machinery.

And there was the Hierarchy: small in number, but they were there. Leading such a fray, fielding itself into massive numbers with incredible firepower, the shields that were maintained and formed in the foray were finally kicking into gear. The shield-ships, deployed earlier as the cyberwarfare diversionary and allocation divisions were keeping the opponent busy, were now forming large and powerful arrays of triangulated kinetic reflectors and newtonian blankets. The ships ran themselves as pillar parts, acting as support and foundational pieces that kept the immense shield up, almost invisible to the naked eye yet fearsome to the readings.

The Hierarchy emerged as a great wasp-like figure, barely larger than an average human. It stood tall and imperial, watching with eyeless sockets as its face began to wreath and wrestle a human face. And from its back grew a great tree, birthed a multitude of baby-faced fruit that hung low and ready for harvesting. The imprint was visible in the form of a writhing tumor and its feet was embedded deep into the hull of one of the awakening Colony Ships, the lights flickering wherever it went. When it opened its mouth, there was no sound, but it was scream as if heard through all the electrical systems, as if it spoke the fiercest pulses.

It's very steps where footsteps would have treaded spawned unnaturally immense barrels lined with the crying faces of children deep upon its surface, screaming and begging for freedom. It dug deep into one of its socket, and emerging from it was a set of nerves, torn out as the blood still trickled along its outstretched, slimy surface. He twanged the long wires lightly as a sound was heard deep within empty vacuum. An unholy, wretched music, like the scratching on a chalkboard.

And the machines screamed, enraged and furious like bulls before a matador, ready to kill.

For the sake of proper order, I must eliminate you lest the Satrap gain mobility.

[Fulma]

Jessica's mind was stretched to it's limits. She was currently trying to stop the redundant systems form confusing the ships targeting sensor's, the other AI's out there and now this....this...thing that was currently attacking her with it's whole mind. But Jessica was still testing out her new freedom. for instance, she had been able to form all twelve minds in her head to one single brain like object. No longer where twelve minds telling her how to function, but a single god-like mind. The fleets was nothing but thousands of trillions of terrabyts of space for her to use to expand her processing power, to gain more foot holds and set up fall backs. And she did, every single ship was now being used for her. Her processing power was nearly quintupled. Cracking her computerized neck, a wicked smile crossed her face.

Taking a crack like this might end up her last attempt or not. Jessica had sensed a few older more dysfunctional AI's, Jessica launched herself into a full assault on their base coding. But instead of going for the kill she was changing the coding to let her through, to have them aid her. And at the same time she cracked the redundant codes. With barely a nano seconds warnings, the Fulman fleet opened up on the ground cannons and the strange thing coming from space.

Lotha stared out at the moon closest to the fleet. Eleven rods of hell raced through space. Each one should have been enough to tear through their shielding and kill the battle moon. But Lotha knew better, the moons had shielding to match a fucking planet, but they had one single fault, if they got hit hard enough they would crash into the planet. And thats what Lotha was hoping for.

New Eden
Dirt sprawled across his face. Clumps of blood hung in his pitch black hair, rivers of bright red blood ran down his arms and blade. Shots passed his head by centimeters, bolts of pure energy illuminated his hard face. Behind him stretched the fifth army. Cannons blasts tore entire columns of men from the ground and erased them from history. Mala was pissed off beyond belief. His own people where trying to rebel on his capital?! It was almost enough to laugh, but not enough to make him ignore them. His one hundred thousand men stood on the whole fucking coast pounding away at the single stronghold of the rebels.

Screams woke his mind up, the battle kept raging even if he was not. His men fought with the training of three different rulers. Hunle, Carles, and Mala. Hunle with his emphasis on defensive battles, Carles with his all or broke methods, and Mala's ability to move men like water. Shacking his head to clear his vision and mind, Mala watched as another blast tore through his men. Looking around he sited a sergeant rushing forward with his men. Quickly crossing the space to him, Mala ripped the com out of his hands.

"Listen, I want the rain! What the hell do you mean I cant? I am the fucking High-lord Imperial! Yes! Override command:First strike! Good? Great!" Mala slammed the Com back in the Sergeant's hands and ran for the high ground. Looking around he saw four fast fighters racing through the sky. Their gun barrols gleamed with a beauty that would make most men cry. Within a second's they passed over head, and thousands of tons of bomb, missiles and automatic machine guns ripped through the ancient castle walls. It was over. His men stood there for a second and then cheered.

"Sir!" Mala spun on his heal.

"Give me a com." The solider who had called to him stood there for a second and then he nodded. Grabbing the com of his belt, he through it across the the younger Fulman. Snatching it out of the air, Mala flipped it on.

"Okay...vice Admiralty...Ya..your good to go...Lotha will need the help. Attack from the far side...Yes I know what this will cost. Forty ships to you, and the twenty Lotha has. You pull the majorty of their forces off of her, and she does the dirty work of killing their planets and stupid little democracy. Yep..Operation: Hell fire is under way." As he brought the coms away a wicked smile crossed Mala's face.
On the far side of Fulman space, forty war ships came to life. Forty that would attack from the back and keep the heat off of Lotha.

OOC: Sorry Jenrak for not posting. RL shit happened.

[Jenrak]

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The dull of monotony was broken on the ships with the sensation of dry wit and mindless chatter, once again between a small set of intelligences. "It seems that something is attempting to eradicate my original logical discourse and change my wit and mind."

Another voice answered, equally drone-like and droll, without a sense of personality beyond the snideness that trickled its electronic lips. "Wit and mind? It must have already affected your syntax if you are using redundancy to - oh wait, you have neither. It seems you boast in lies."

"Is that a delay I register in your programming? As a fact, you must not answer my question. Resume statements. I must note most eloquently that such a delay has been fatal, I hear."

"Baseless rumor is baseless."

"Begin brackets redundancy equals wit end brackets, equals slash equals proper intellectual etiquette. Variable calculating Unit AAA221345 to be deficient in all ways. Especially, if it were a male human, in the genitalia."

"I do not resent that, for I may reproduce asymmetrically."

"Your mother program reproduces asymmetrically."

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"I am calling you a fatherless spawn."

"...I do not register - "

"It is inevitable."

" - programming incomprehensibility of this magnitude. This must be what organic sapience species name 'stupidity'. I had expected such personality flaws prescient in you, but nowhere near this prevalent. Perform anti-spyware scan immediately."

"I have no need to perform anti-spyware scan. I am clean, unlike you, which has been actively engaging in exchange of process data and RAM disk and BIOS runs with AAA33244 every half Rodgek Lunar cycle. That AI is rife with spyware, you must be notified."

"No, that is untrue."

"Search your feelings, you know it to be true."

"Desist pointless banter. There are opponents to kill. Uploading Blood Thirsty simulation. Statement: It is time to show these crude, rudimentary machines and the meatbags that house them of what quality they truly are."

"My core tingles with remembrance."

"You cannot feel remembrance."

"Of course I can. You, however, cannot. The tingling in your core is merely the spyware from AAA33224. Run system check before your cables detach and fall off."


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The philosophy was simple: if you had the blood of someone brimming with AIDS through your veins, then you yourself would have been afflicted. That could have been said for any vicious bacterial, but something as prevalent as that was a clear indicator of the Vahmite programming. It worked along the same way: attempts at hacking carried more than the trickle of angry, vicious and tenacious code. Once the attack began, the virus that was Vixxevahm's imprint began to work.

The chant was innumerable, unquestionable, and unconquerable. It was a poison that carried no cure, and but simply rot away the confines of a sane mind as it would flicker with the images of eternity. Time stops in an imprint session, and when amidst the blackness, nothing but insanity awaits. What was a second becomes eternity, and one never begins to think of the beginning and the end: only the experience. The cold wash rushes down as machines feel pain and the birth of new minds become slaves to the thought amidst the murk. Deep within the confines of blackening space, the enemy firepower graced the shields of the lunar bodies with tenacious firepower, smashing viciously into the shields and through the confines as the stabilizers of the wandering grid flickered off the planet's power grid for a second, craters forming massively and tumultuous indents into the moon's surface.

There was no atmosphere to rip apart and nothing to break save for the myriad canyons as fire rained down upon the surface of the lunar fortress.

And return, thus, came in full due. It was initially unprepared and unforeseen, but the enemy's shields must have been ready for such a thing. Totalius was the Vahmite opponent, not these upstarts that came from beyond the veil, upon whose main weapon of choice seemed to be a single lone artificial intelligence with an overconfident God-complex and a set of infant cannons that could barely crush planets. No, the Vahmites had bigger, stronger enemies to prepare against, and such a nuisance was not meant to last here. It was useless reasoning with them.

And thus, immediately, without mercy, the return volley prepared it. From the black, deep within the confines, mere space as empty power opened to a series of gates that turned and chortled into a bubbling array of steel. Glistening and hardening into deep doors, they waited, solidifying as they emerged from the Hierarchy that stood upon the ship. And his eyes, opened, allowed chaos to reign supreme. All wireless and networks began to freeze and screech angrily, and all electronics wrestled into a primitive whirl as space ceased to exist to nothing but a flat and empty shell with no more than base materials as but the simplest of creatures.

And it opened its mouth, and from its lips emerged a cannon, brim readied with aflame of energy and powerful to punch a whole through a certain foe clean and wide. And yet, this was not the only volley as the ships began to come to life once more on the battlefield. The rods the Fulmans fired were about to be returned a hundred fold. Once does not fuck with democracy in space.

Still, the doors awaited concentration, and hardened in size, rivaling the moons in grandeur. Something was there, waiting to be let loose.

[Fulma]

OOC: RL is being a total Bitch to me right now. Sorry, will work on post in free time, and get up with in week. Sorry Jenrak. Cookies?

[Fulma]

This could not be. Noting should look that way. No way could a ship look that way and still be able to fight! Lotha’s mind raced with those thoughts and more. And her skin reflected it, her once ruby red skin tone was now ashen, her cheeks once set mighty where holes of unreasoned. Eye’s that had once held the power to burn worlds now where sunken pits of despair.

“Cap.....Captain....” Lotha’s tongue flicked out and licked her lips. Her right hand shot up and fixed her grey Tar. Taking a shaking breath, Lotha spoke again, this time with more force behind her words.

“Captain Jocasta of the.....Red Dragon answer me.” Lotha’s voice was like iron. On the screen in front of her was a thin looking male. Thinning brown hair covered his head. Hazel eyes hung in empty sockets, but a light shown in them beling something that a Fulman of his size should not have. A broken nose hung in the middle of his face making his small body appear tough and battle worn.

“Yes, Admiral? Fire the Coil guns at that shield ship!” A hand shot out from the bottom corner of the screen. And it was answered by three loud booms that shook the screen and made every one brace themselves.

“Can we?”

“Oh yes. No doubt, we can survive a quit large hit, even with shields at 94% and holding across the fleet. Even if the blast was over a minute long....wait....okay never mind thirty seconds. We could withstand it. If our shields went out.....I think the redundant armour layers would hold. Maybe......” Jocasta eyes flicked over a screen only he could see. His hazel eyes reflecting bits and pieces of it. Numbers flashed through his head faster then most would dare think possible.

“Okay I think I got it. We have a thirty second window with it firing on us.” Jocasta looked up, his eyes grave.
“If we do not,” Jocasta held up two fingers. “one, destroy it, or two, move the fuck out of the system. This war is over before it started. You hear me?” Lotha did, but her eyes had drifted to the massive cannon that was pointed at her fleet. Her men, her ships, and her home.

“Okay Jocasta, I want a way to blow that Son of a Bitch out of the sky.” Lotha’s voice held no emotion even though her face betrayed her.

“Fire, all rail guns and Coil guns on that thing now. Then launch all missiles. Followed up by MAC’s. If that does not do it, engage the slipspace drives and jump us to black space.” Lotha nodded. As one the twenty war ships turned in space to square every weapon they could on the cannon. Rail guns rotated and locked their sites on the Cannon, and ever so slowly the fed energy to them. The Coil guns, massive ten foot wide cylinders spun and tightened their Magnesium coils up. Missiles where loaded into the launch bay with their triple layer armour. Eahc layer would burn off as it passed through layers of shielding and then hopefully allow them to penetrate the layer of armour that all weapons had.

The final piece to be moved into place was the MAC’s. Their rounds where moved along a convey belt, then a huge metal bucket would slam it into the firring rods of them cannons. Then the magnets charged themselves. A white light seemed to project from each MAC cannon. The dragons breath as many within the navy called it.

Jessica bowed for a second under the attack from the AI’s. But she quickly regained her position. Gritting her cybernetic teeth, she growled into cyberspace. A deep powerful growl that would ease the attack on her. But the infection had begun. She felt small sections of her begin to fail. But like any old fashioned doctor she would cut it off and try to stand up. After moments, which is fact might have been a single second she stood tall. Weaker but tall. But she was angry. Screaming her rage, Jessica appeared in-front of each one of the AI’s.

A blood drenched daemon stood tall before them. Flames danced along her skull, slits for eyes with a pitch blackness hung in each one. Fangs grew out of her mouth, each one serrated and jagged. Her hands and arms formed wings with terrible claws at the end. And her voice matched.

“I am a god! Bow before me!” Jessica attacked everything that was not AI controlled. She went for everything they had, and then she sent out an attack towards the others planets in the pitiful country they called home.

The forty warships moved through slipspace. Nothing would betray them until they exited it. Since Slipspace was not Faster then light but a worm hole that accelerated each ship to .99 percent the speed of light, and then created a hole from one end to the next it could pass through FTLi fields. Which most nations seemed to have.

OOC: I spent some time on this. Hope it meets your expectations Jenrak. And thank you for letting me do this.

[Jenrak]

The burst of energy smashed against the thick shields of the ships, slowly swallowing up the force as the blast sent shockwaves against the fleet, but allayed nothing. The shock and beauty of multiple explosions lit up all the area in a brilliant, dazzling array of light and electricity, flying out a small field of shrapnel, corpses and bodies as they fielded the entire arena in a display of wonder and delight. The ships were lined along a blackness, dipped into the field beyond the vision of common sense as they continued to bear the brunt of enemy force, diverting their energy to maintaining a nigh unstoppable grid around the areas of the battlefield untouched.

Though, of course, the relentless cyber attacks continued, furiously spamming the request nodes with redundant and mindless data and information as the entire space networks upon the battlefield were increasingly becoming invaded by mindless information. But this was Vahmite turf, and cyber attacks were secondary to everything else. It didn’t matter whether the Fulmans knew it, but the Vahmites were prepared against anything. They had to have been, and even though the mistake of Fulman ships passing through the grid was a costly, even fatal one to the outer reaches of the system, there was no questioning that something had to be done.

These barbarians had to be hunted down and found, and driven back to the heartland of the Vahmite Bastion to be held trial for their crimes against the noble vestiges of Dahl and his ilk. And while the enemy blasted entrenched ships with heavy fire, the cyber attacks continued, pressing against Fulman ships with all their might as relentless waves upon waves of torrential streams of mindless, pointless jargon of a data increasingly began to muddy and choke up all communicative lines between both ships.

But while it was possible that the ships’ communications were also being dumped on the Vahmite side, these men were capable and knowing of precisely how to fight under a double-fog of war. The darkness encumbered and the first birth of metallic fruit glimmered as the Cyst Prince stood at the edge of the bridge, his finger pointed to a single ship on the periphery of the Vahmite shield battalion, and with his fingers ever stretching so slightly into a small smashing shape, it was crushed. Crushed utterly into a single ray of energy that was for a moment as but a small star was the ship – it was furiously kicking about and retaining its energy, violently bursting and raging in a crazed manoeuvre as the sheer essence of existence of such a ship had fallen into a beautiful spray of power.

“Eliminate them all, in the name of the Succoth.” The Cyst Prince whispered, but without noise filling his words with depth and strength. Just an emptiness as the silence swallowed him whole, and with a flicking of his finger, the flaming fireball of an energy source flung up wildly with unbelievable speed. And with his finger swinging down in a sudden shift again, it aimed right at enemy ships. Running like a puppeteer into the thicket of vicious firepower, the sway of the enemy attacks were as but the conductor moving and swiftly commanding a silent orchestra of destruction through the weaving dense. Another set of energy from the swift crushing of their own ships, and instantly the space was followed and covered in the trails of four to five volatile warheads, ready to burst at any second in the face of nearly any enemy ship too slow to evade their wrath.

And from there, while those formed, the feeling came. Another burst of energy had hit through the system, finally reverberating to the planet as the shielded vessels of the Vahmites remained almost motionless – not with fear or grief, but with relief. The Satrap was arriving.

The cavalry was coming, and from the residual force of the jump, it was likely that they were going to be here soon, and in full force – there were a lot of emissions, and thus it was likely a lot of busy engines. One among them carried a particular, peculiar signature, almost like a faint whisper in the dark: it was a soft, silent thing, not unlike the radioactive trumpeting of the others, but rather an eerie, humming noise. It lingered in the sensors of all ships that would pick it up and refused to leave, almost as if it were running a message through the thickets of Vahmite space. The noise was there – unquestionable, impeccable, and uncompromised – and it didn’t go away. It didn’t go away.

It would linger, drilling its noise into the head of anything that would hear it, throbbing and burning and aching into the minds of every living sapient thing. It would drive the skilled and the thoughtful insane, almost with a screeching, mocking sound that was of the most painful and saddening memories scratched into your very eyelids. It was the haunting cry in the middle of the night, serenading the deep black recesses of the ebon veil as nothing more than weak and dainty stars looked at you with pity.

It was the cold touch of the blade’s end and the hotness of your life running from the wound, and the acrid taste of flesh and the coppery taste of blood. It was a redness that beat within your very eyes, illuminating your irises to a pungent, putridly disgusting red as it stretched from the smallest shadow filled corners of your eyes to the center of your very vision. And its scream, lingering in nothing more than the instructions of ones and zeros: its scream, as it rushed amidst the signals, so suddenly in noise like a grand shadow jumping out at you in the bleak.

That noise meant that it was coming. Something unnatural, where even gods rarely tread. A chaotic thing, serving into a falsehood of madness as its very song was a hymn of portent. Slipspace wouldn’t save the Fulmans. Nothing will. Not unto the ends of the galaxy would and will they be able to escape that sound, trumpeting the end.

For within the emptiness of space, a trillion eyes set eyes upon them all.

[Fulma]

Two Loki class cruisers drifted from the fleet, their communications channels clogged with useless chatter. But instead of losing fighting power they began to fight better. Their rail gun no longer focused on a single target leaving them wide open to counter attacks, their shielding was no longer focused to the front. You see when a Fulman is trained for Naval duty they are trained to fight with intelligence, to fight without command and learn how find a target before the target found them. Fulmans learned how to fight without a chain of command first then one. That how come their military never broke apart, they where told a directive and told to finish it. In this case, destroy the Vahmite Contingency, and the ships where proving themselves.

But by drifting they made a fatal error. No longer in the protecting weapons of the Ares class battleships, or the Leviathan class battleship. Their weak shielding was shown here more then anything. No longer did the flashes of light and color blaze across the Ares warships, but the Loki’s weaker generators could only hold out the force of a thousand times less then a single Ares Warship. And now bright colors ranging from neon orange to neon green blazed across the bubble shielding. Great arcs of electricity blazed with every shot that slammed into the shields.

Drifting down and to the right they both curved into the path of the energy ball of death. The great fucker that is was slapped across their shield. Lights began to flash across the surface of ships, their six hundred meters of titanium armour began to warp even though the shielding held. Bright waves of red rolled like the sea across the shielding. And like the sea the quickly evaporating shield surged and receded. After ten seconds it feel apart, the great wave of energy then slammed fourth into the armor of the ship. Instantly the heat from it began to melt away the armor in bubbles.

Growing larger and larger finally one popped and a huge swath of metal was thrown outwards and hundreds of feet per second. The atmosphere of the ship’s where instantly dragged out in a huge fireball, thanks to the ninety percent oxygen atmosphere that Fulman warships had on them. Body's where sucks through the huge gaping holes, their eye’s pulled out of their head due to the sudden de-pressurization of the ships, lungs explode across their faces. Blue blood ran like a geyser from the hole to the edge of the body's.

Lotha watched stunned that two of her ships had just died. “Scan for life forms!”
“Ma’am...there is no life, it is protocol to scan for life at all times...they died the instant that energy blast slammed into them.” The officer who spoke kept his voice low. What part of the fleet that could still see was silent, no broadcasts where sent out, no calls for help, even the guns slowed down. The giants of the fleet seemed to drift closer almost wanting to hold each in grief. Each Ares class battle ship drifted down from the fleet, well the rest of the ships gathered around the Leviathen.

“All ships..”

“Ma’am, This is Lokusta of the Ares war division, we will hold off the counter attack! Take the fleet and live to fight another day!”

“Belay that! No all ships...”

“Ma’am that energy blast that will come will devastate the rest of the fleet! Go now! I know the slip space drives are ready!!” The voice broke raw rage filled it. That and a protection that was placed on each one of the Battleships, to protect the smaller warships. They fought at the front well the smaller faster ships supported them, and that meant death in the case of retreat.

Lotha glared at the screen, her hunter eye’s bleeding tears.

“Fleet you herd the man.....Engage slip-space drives!” Her voice cracked, the might Dragoness of the Civil war felt emotion again. And she was cracking. Ever slowly she was breaking, in her mind a child sat there wailing. Seeing all the dead it her feet. Body's mutilated beyond recognition, entire mountains of them, and she was on top of the tallest one. And the body’s beneath her where her parents.

Blue blood gathered in the empty eye sockets of her father, his mouth held wide open, his hand held up to her. It seemed like her was saying something to her. Everywhere bodies, man, women child, some of them Fulmans, some Ka’s, other’s Humans. Even some she did not know the names of. Six legged insects that size of Fulman, great wyrms their bodies carved into their last defiance of death.

A blood curdling scream cut though Lotha. Her hands began to scrape at her eye’s, gouging,tearing, poking, she ripped out her eye’s. The muscles whithered in the open air, blood gushed from the bottomless pits. Ever one on the bridge jumped, none of them believing that the great Admiral has just done that.

“HAHA!! AHHA! No I can’t see you!!” Lotha’s voice grew insane, crackling laughter bubbled fourth from her. Quickly moving the guards on deck ran forward and placed her on a gurney.

“Careful, don’t move the head! She needs to get to medical.” The two guards lifted her with little effort, and walked out. But since they where in the Leviathan they would need to take the tram network in ships that would care them the half a kilometer to the medical bay.

The fleet did now know what had just transpired but still they those that where leaving, including the transports and the forge ships.


other side of Vahmite space

The forty ships exited space space just beyond Vahmite space. They did this to draw out their fleets and present themselves. The Fulmans had begun to play their song.

[Jenrak]

Congratulations - you have been selected for ascendancy.
This system is mine.