Righteous Fury [IC | SEMI-OPEN | FT]

[RawHein]

We now have an OOC thread here, where you can submit joining applications. If you need to contact me, please TG me or find me on irc.esper.net, on Legion or GESO. While GESO is involved, membership is not required to participate at all.

Thelza
January 1, 2507
Zasha Cluster
Task Force 444

It was a massacre, plain and simple. The eight ships of Task Force 444, a patrol force sent to recon the Zasha Cluster, fell into what would later become known as Lawson's Feint. Named for the Pirate Admiral that came up with the plan, it involved the hijacking of a civilian freighter and using its distress beacon to lure in unsuspecting rescuers to their deaths. Of course, TF 444 would not be the first group to fall into this type of ambush, nor would it be the last as the proud Thelzan Space Army would take another year to learn this harsh lesson. But it would be one of the few 'lost' patrols that Federal High Command would investigate for years after the Dradian Raids in search for evidence what had become them, but to no avail.

After exiting spacefold and coming unto the scene of the drifting Maza Rolo, a heavy freighter known for its cargo hauling of precious ores from the outer colonies to the coreworlds, the destroyer escort Marmalow took a MAC round amidship. A similar fate followed with cruiser Axer when five rounds pummeled into her bow and ran the length of the ship from bow to stern, finishing with a glorious ball of light. Realizing the ambush they had blindly jumped into, the remaining ships soon spotted their foes coming from the protection of the gravity well from the far side of the star that shone with a brilliant red and quickly gaining ground.

In the CIC of the Garla, an aging Enterprise dreadnought class that had been taken as war reparation from the USA seventy years ago, Brigadier General Nolan rallied his command to confront the threat of twenty vessels of varying classes - mostly of heavily modified merchant vessels and several cruisers, commanded by a similar Enterprise dreadnought that shone with the crimson colour of a jolly roger painted on its hull.

"Order the destroyers to set up a screening line, forget the freighter it's fucking bait and we fell right for it-"

"Sir, the Bashir has been hit and is drifting, Col. Nixton says he is abandoning ship!"

"Fuck me, send the Lancer to provide covering fire for the Bashir while Nixton gets his crew the hell out of there!"

Glancing to the side where his XO stood over the ship's senior navigator, Nolan was quite literally knocked off his feet when three MAC rounds tore into the stern of the Garla, knocking out her communications, FTL Drive, and her targeting systems that would have otherwise assisted in laying down an effective field of fire onto her enemies.

"BDA! NOW!"

"Sir, commo is down and the FTL drive has been damaged, engineering has yet to send us a more detailed report but we can assume we're not going anywhere-"

"Fuck the assumptions, where's our targeting algorithms Stacey!?"

"Sir, its down and the ship AI core has been severed, we're shooting blind."

Nolan knew the laws, both Thelzan and international, that covered the rules of firing high velocity, highly destructive MAC rounds blind into space. And they all sang the same tune that firing such destructive ordnance without knowing where and when they'd hit was about as wrong as two boys fucking in the woods. Well, illegal in the plainest terms (he was still coping with his son having coming out of the closet recently).

"We still have RCS thrusters, align the ship with the biggest fucking TRP in that mass of assholes coming our way and fire every goddamn round we got."

"General," Lt. Col Solsta, his XO, glared at him for throwing safety precautions out into wind, "have you lost your mind!?"

"We're about to fucking die Solsta, I don't give a shit about safety! Now fire everything we got at those shits! We're not going into oblivion alone, I swear to you all that much."

Hesitation followed momentarily, but the loss of three more ships for the price of two pirate vessels broke the silence and the crew did as ordered. What guns still functioned, fired. What missiles cells still functioned, fired. What point defense weapons still functioned, fired. And yes, of the four of six MACs that remained operational charged their fifty by fifty meter blocks of tungsten with an electrical charge that would propel them down the length of the railguns and send them into vacuum of space. Three found targets in the form of an armed merchant marine and two blockade runners, none of which would live to fight another day. The fourth missed the dreadnought by a mere hundred meters, a fact that the pirate's captain would later go on to say in bars and brothels in the months following his closest brush with death yet. Within the year the pirates of Lawson's Flotilla would be killed over the course of the Dradian Raids, perhaps the most brutal anti-piracy campaign that Thelza came to know in its history. As for TF 444 and her vessels and crews it became a legacy of a lost patrol forgotten by memory as the decades came to pass. The Garla and her escorts would be engulfed in nuclear fire, their crews blasted into stardusts along with the knowledge of that fourth MAC round. The glowing eulogy given at the end of the Dradian Raids would make scant mention of TF 444 actions in the Zasha Cluster, a region later annexed and colonized by the Thelzan Federation. If not for the materials and velocity of the MAC round, it would have been nigh impossible to trace its origins nearly a hundred years later when it came to an abrupt stop with the devastation of impacting an alien world.

---

The newly-ascended Chel'rek stood just behind his podium, surveying the huge crowds that had gathered for the Annual Review Speech. He took a breath, exhaling slowly before taking a long gulp of the blue Smoke from the vapouriser placed there specially - apparently the last Chel was addicted to the stuff, though they'd never know now. He felt his nerves settle, and climbed the steps, feeling and hearing rather than seeing the spectacle - the slight wind of the waving flags, the huge, yet subdued roar of a crowd at rest, a roar that only increased as the nation's new leader appeared behind the reinforced screen. He swallowed - never had he spoken before a crowd such as this, an effect magnified by the attentive visual and audio relays. He'd been a planetary Senator, sure, representing a mere billion compared to the system's half-trillion.

"My people..." he began. He placed his hands on the podium, a traditional diplomatic sign of peaceful intentions. "My new people, we are suffering, and we are wounded. Those were my words on my ascension to Chel, when I begged of you for time. That time is finished, and I can tell you what we know, what we have found in this past year. Of Hein's twenty billion children...half a million remain." The crowd roared, an expression of rage and anguish against the heavens - literally. Chel'rek only waited, his face stoic as the screen helped to mute the deafening roar. After a minute or so, the sound died down. "The brave souls at the Advanced Astronomic Centre...as they watched their deaths approach, as the spaceports clogged with crowds and generation-old duels were settled in the street, they kept up the link to us, so we might glean the origin and nature of Dinistrio." Dinistrio - Destroyer. An old legend from folklore, of The Hammer that Would Smash the World. The media had picked up the name, and it had stuck. Chel'rek held his hand to his breast, giving a controlled shout of his own. "THEY WILL BE HONOURED!" The crowd roared right back, memorialising the the sacrifice as the screen actually vibrated.

"It was not in vain! The Dinistrio was found, buried deep in Hein's new great scar. Already the media, experts, and you, the people, believe what we now know for a fact - it was no asteroid, no accident or fluke. The thing that wrecked Hein and snuffed ten billion lives was solid tungsten." Now the crowd was hushed, almost shocked as the implications of their most popular was finally confirmed. Some great power was out there, something that could end planets and kill cultures. Chel'rek took advantage, ploughing on. "And there is more. My people, I-" He paused. This was a momentous instant, the last shred of peace before is words would end it. He gripped the podium now, his knuckles turning white beneath the red makeup used to signify mourning. "You know what this means. Somewhere out there is a ship that should carry our pain."

The choice of words was deliberate, echoing centuries of tradition. Pain debt was deeply ingrained in their culture - after leaving Hein, an awful lot of novel beliefs had sprung up, several being throwbacks to their old violent, warrior culture. Sword duelling, gunfights, even family dynasties sprang up in the new colonies. To deal with the injuries inflicted, a suitably old warrior style of justice had emerged from the communities - as you had created pain for someone or their relatives, you owned it and should bear it. Unless it was provably deserved, the pain had to be redressed - branding or whipping had been tried, but the Raw -the injured- increasingly pushed for, as they put it, symmetry.

The central Hein government had refused to condone it, but it was carried out informally and spread until eventually the local governments were converted by sheer age, generations becoming increasingly accepting of the practice. Hein had reacted by pushing militarisation out into space, hoping to remind their populations of order, but local recruitment meant that it had spread like wildfire among the ranks of men who were both bored and had violence as their job. In fact, recruitment was much, much higher than in Hein, something that'd been celebrated until it became known that the new soldiers had just wanted free training to become better warriors.

The crowd's roar was truly deafening this time, the screen providing barely any protection. Still Chel'rek stood, unflinching. He took his hands off of the podium, and reached behind to draw his personal sword, an extremely expensive Katanga. Really it was for show - he was a politician more than a warrior, and had his own bodyguards for that. Still, no Senator of his planet had ever been elected without a sword - and the sponsorship of a few Houses, of course. He held it out to the crowd.

"And WE WILL GIVE IT TO THEM! FOR HEIN!"
"FOR HEIN!", the crowd thundered back as the flag wavers struggled to keep their charges upright.

"NEVER FORGET!"
"NEVER FORGET!"

"WE! ARE! RAW'HEIN!"
"RAW'HEIN! RAW'HEIN!"

[Thelza]

2344hrs January 12, 2624
Landaus Star System, Landaus Central
General Wayne's Private Quarters

When the initial wave of attacking Raw'Hein poured into Thelza's territory it took precious hours to realize exactly what was happening. The Third Sphere of colonies was little more than a mineral and gas hub for some of Thelza's biggest energy companies and their offshoot mining corporations. Massive siphon rigs that had been orbiting the various gas giants had been in their orbit for several decades and the merchant vessels that made the supply and trade runs through it had been operating there for just as long if not longer. The region itself had been propped up as one of Thelza's safest given its eighty year of history that showed little in the way of violence, not since the Dradian Raids had burned through and then exhausted three years later after they had begun. Such was the case of lack of enemies, both state and terrorists, that the routine patrols of military craft would sweep through every few months, and never more than four or five ships. Therefore when the Raw'Hein's forward elements of its massive armada began their rage through Thelza's outer colonies they found a weakly defended territory wholly unprepared for war, much less the famed piracy of a century ago.

Seventy lightyears away, General Marcus Wayne, commander of the Twenty-First Space Army, woke with the screaming of a gunship's engines as it landed on his front lawn. Out of bed and his sidearm gripped firmly in his left hand, he stepped onto the porch in his boxers and night shirt with a five o'clock shadow running the length of his side burns to his chin. It took several seconds for sleep and dreariness to be shaken from his eyesight to finally grasp the fact that a Thelzan gunship sporting rockets, cannons, and a squad from the local regiment of Guardsmen in full battle rattle rushing to him.

"General Wayne Sir! I'm Major Gando with the Eighty-Ninth Battalion, we're here to secure and take you to headquarters."

"Yeah, no shit there Gando, you mind telling me why there's an armed gunship and squad of you dickheads on my front lawn and not a driver and vic in my driveway instead!?"

"Sir, all I can say is that some serious shit's gone down in the gas fields and we've no contact with anyone out there as of an hour ago."

"You mean to say that an hour ago we lost contact with an entire fucking star system and your just now coming to get me!? Fuck, let's go!"

"Yes Si-wait, your not gonna put anything on?"

"The fuck should I Major, we've already wasted an hour, no sense in wasting anymore time."

---

Landaus Central
21^st Space Army Command HQ
Operations Center

Grabbing an extra set of combat fatigues from his office, General Wayne rushed to the Operations Center in the headquarters building. Along the way he took note of the panicked activity all around him. Officers rushed from one office to the next compiling reports or handing them in, often containing casualty figures or the latest intel about the unknown enemy. As he passed the records room just a few hundred meters from the heartbeat of the Twenty-First Space Army he saw dozens of clerks and war department civilians breaking machines, shredding paperwork, or putting precious files onto carts before rolling them out - presumably to a waiting shuttlecraft that would ferry them offworld. All these signs showed that it wasn't some half-hearted attack on Thelza or marauders banging at the gates - no, this was for real. Mother Thelza was being invaded and they were losing.

"What's going on Mike, how bad is it?"

Lt. General Michael Azania, the overall commander responsible for surveillance and intelligence operations in the sector looked grim as he acknowledged his superior.

"It's as bad as it looks Mark. Already we've lost the entirety of the Third Sphere and by the latest figure of casualties coming in, they ain't taking prisoners. We've got confirmed losses of almost a thousand civilian vessels, about a third of which was merchant marine. And to top it off, Outposts Amber and Zulu have gone silent and we're not getting so much as a pipsqueak from the Fifth Brigade. Whoever these assholes are, they're not stopping for shit and their on their way here."

General Wayne took in the report calmly as he heard of the casualties and did the math in his head. Typical freightships that traversed the Third Sphere easily had a crew anywhere from one to three hundred, and the merchant marine by law had to have a certain number of weapon systems and ordnance which added to its own crew by at least a hundred. Both outposts had a garrison of several thousand and the Fifth Brigade, being a force of eight blockade runners, had total crew strength of two thousand souls. The lost of the entirety of the Third Sphere alone would add another fifteen million to the casualty count.

"What's the status of the system's defenses? And has Federal High Command been notified?"

"The Feds are tracking what's going on, though they seem to think its another pirate force just acting with more brutality than usual. As for our defenses, we've set up a screen line three million kilometers out from the planet with thirty of our frigates augmented with some of the local merchant marine. The remainder of the Twenty-First has begun assembling at Lagrange points Able, Dog, and Hotel ready to redeploy when they breach the outer defenses."

"Those fuckers! Have they not seen these latest reports or are they fucking retarded!?" He breathed a sigh of relief from his rant and took pause to watch the displayed hologram show the locations of the two hundred military vessels of the 21^st and the three hundred merchant marine moving sluggishly and with little attention to the formations of others. But also displayed was the seven thousand civilians vessels both on the planet and in orbit, most of which had markers identifying them without activity whereas a few could clearly be seen with shuttles running back forth from the surface.

"Mark, what's the possibility that we lose Landaus?"

"General, there's no question about it, we're gonna lose the system. I'd give us a few hours of fighting time but then we will be overrun."

Wayne pondered his next move to take. They knew they were coming here, they were the only significant military base in a fifty lightyear distance from the now occupied borders of the Third Sphere. With such a massive force barreling through their outer defenses like a hot knife through butter he doubted that the loss of anymore of his small command would justify the forlorn defense of Landaus. But if he chose to cut his losses and run then he would undoubtedly condemn the forty million Thelzans on Landaus to death and it would toll the destruction for the other systems within the same fifty lightyear distance. Whoever this enemy was, he was now emboldened by his early successes and would continue until checked. Might as well be now.

"Mike, send out a distress call to every civilian ship within a ten light year radius of Landaus to assemble in orbit and take on evacuating civilians. All other civilians vessels outside of this radius are to head to the nearest colony and evacuate as many civilians as possible. Priority is to be given to children and women. Activate the merchant marine and to begin assembling at their preordained assembly areas. As for our local merchant marine, assign each one to a dozen or so civilian ships and to escort them to safety. We'll establish a defensive perimeter and hold out as long as possible, ground troops are to be mobilized and dispersed into the country side to conduct guerrilla warfare when the planet falls."

---

0212hrs January 13, 2624
Landaus Star System, Landaus Central

Soldiers of the local garrison and reserves began mobilizing out of the central military base on Landaus as civilians, now awakened by the blaring of sirens and public announcements, were notified of the danger coming and began rushing to the nearest evacuation sites. The sites themselves quickly became a mass of humanity as local police were called in and later augmented by soldiers to keep order when panic began to set in. While civilians crowded the shuttlecraft that would ferry them to the armada of transports, liners, freighters, and privately owned ships in orbit, the Thelzan Army began rolling into the cities and major terrain features, establishing a multitude of AA guns and rockets which were in turn supported by an increasingly crowded sky of atmospheric fighters and gunships. In orbit of Landaus the two hundred ships of the Twenty-First Space Army reached full mobilization and established a triangular defense around the planet while the four hundred merchant marine that had been assembled formed a final defensive line around the growing the civilian fleet. By the time mothers and fathers were throwing their children over the barriers that kept the hysterical crowd of humanity from rushing the shuttles and grounded spaceships that were now their lifeline, and local gangs rioting in the streets and vandalizing local stores, the vanguard of the Raw'Hein Armada had breached the screening force and began their assault on the forces protecting Landaus.

[RawHein]

If someone had asked Jek'rei three and a half years ago, when she was Jek of a hospital ship overseeing the rescue effort for Hein -what was left of it- if she thought that they should retaliate, she'd have laughed in their face. She'd have invited them to take a trip down in a search-and-rescue chopper, take a good look at what a single shot had done to the planet, and ask if they even could. Now, surveying her own bridge and the fleet outside, she had to admit that while she wasn't as fanatic about their success as some of her colleagues, she certainly wasn't pessimistic.

Almost immediately after Chel'rek's speech, the Raw'Hein had begun a truly audacious expansion. Experimental FTL systems had received a huge boost in funding; only one out of ten designs worked, but that was enough to get a probe to trace Dinistrio's path back out into space. Drifting had left it at the edge of the probe's sensors, but it was there - the wreckage of FTL warships. A few months later, a bigger and better probe could tow most of it into Hein's orbit, and then the fun began.

Large scale FTL drives meant robotic mining stations and factories could be sent out to distant, mineral-rich systems. Overseen by rudimentary AIs, they started cranking out even more production facilities, making production skyrocket while huge government incentives got colonists on any habitable planets for mining. Genetic manipulation technology, used to weed out deficiencies in the gene pool, was repurposed for mass cloning, producing fast-growing individuals with a predisposition for a variety of skills - some had kinaesthetic specialities for combat, others spatial learning for engineers and pilots. Still other, even more intelligent bloodlines were used for doctors and strategists. It was truly amazing what fifty- forty billion Raw'hein could accomplish given the right motivation, and Hein's destruction was proving to be a massive kick-start.

Jek'rei shook her head, refocusing on the task at hand. Her cruiser was just about to come out of the jump, and she needed to stay in the moment. The screens before her flickered, before showing their target - a set of stations in orbit around a gas giant, one of many refineries spread around the sphere. Rei adjusted her headset, making sure that the AI could hear her.

"Begin operation."

A simple sentence, but one that set off a complex series of actions. Fast destroyers leapt ahead of the group, surrounding the stations and establishing a perimeter. Bigger, bulkier transports followed, spewing space troopers that quickly went to work on the stations' airlocks.
"Jek!" Rei flicked her eyes to the destroyer still accelerating to the furthest station, right on the other side of the planet. The ship's Dek was one of the clones - inexperienced, lacking intuition. Only barely capable, though hopefully that would improve. She adjusted the view, seeing a small dot pulling awa from the station, and scowled.
"Jek'rei, we've got runners and we won't reach them in time. What are your orders, sir?" Rei thought briefly.
"You heard your orders from the Fleet's Chek. We can't afford warnings getting ahead - shoot them down."

As missiles closed the distance between destroyer and fleeing civilians, Rei couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt before brushing it aside. Like it or not, the dead were part of a government that killed Hein - they elected them, so now they deserved the consequences.
"Boarding parties, status."
"Alect transport, we're almost done here. No resistance, any comms have been confiscated. No ships docked, we're pulling out."
"Bono transport, squads have encountered light resistance. No casualties expected, and we're bringing the weapons back for analysis."
"Goshak transport, they're cutting through now."
"Hurry it up!" Rei snapped back. "We're on a schedule here, and the Bek won't tolerate delays." She drummed her fingers on the console, waiting impatiently. Speed, it had been impressed on her, was key to the operation's success. They were to jump in, kill anything threatening, and rejoin the fleet after cleaning out the stations. "Alect, deploy defence satellite and get back in the group - that goes for you too, Bono-"
"Hey Jek!" Another drawback of the clones was an extremely truncated education outside of their future roles, and too small numbers for effective quality control. "That's sir", Rei reprimanded.

"I'm sorry sir it's just I'm so excited!" A true dullard, surely. "We -I mean Bono Team- we found a ship still docked!" Rei could almost imagine the poor guy's tail wagging. She put on a false happy voice as she told him how great that was, before opening a private line to his handler to remind him of how to talk to superiors when they were back on board - they did not have time to waste doing it now. At least, she reflected, I have his incompetence to thank for this ship. At one point there had been talk of an entire clone army and navy - that had been scrapped after Command had seen how a three year-old clone -even one that looked like they were in their early twenties- with absolutely no experience of any kind performed in a realistic battlefield. After that, Command had made the wise decision to give every trooper squad a handler to oversee non-combat performance, and have the to-be officers stay behind for retraining. That created a demand for natural-born officers, which meant fast-tracked promotion for anyone that wanted it. And now Rei was overseeing a military invasion. How things changed.

Still, there was good reason for the rapid expansion, even with the flaws - they were utterly, utterly outmatched technologically, without even one working ship to go on. Everything they'd found had been blown to bits, with anything delicate long since lost either from time or whatever had taken place there. Not to mention, unless the slug itself was FTL anything they built would be a century out-of-date. Their only advantage was numbers and surprise - after the scouting drones came back, they'd been shocked by Thelza's complete lack of defences past the border, such that they were convinced that it wasn't Thelza until they compared the wreckage to a military patrol. Clearly, their planet-killers were kept nearer the nation's core.

More worryingly, their momentum couldn't be kept up forever. Eventually, they'd hit Landaus, the first proper planet so far after an expanse of gas giants and mining platforms. They'd have to keep that one, which meant leaving a bigger piece of the fleet behind. Then they'd hit some resistance, costing them time and forcing them to expand out sideways to avoid getting blindsided. That would cost even more of the fleet, lessening their attack power. Of course, by then hopefully they'd have more, upgraded ships from Hein's research and the orbital stations mentioned in the mining platforms' computers.

Still...it was a huge undertaking, the biggest ever. It showed the Raw'hein what their government would do for justice, and it gave them even more zeal in the line of duty. Rei thumbed the comms button. "Open channel. Alright boys, everyone's back and the satellites are coming up green, so ready for jump." The satellites served a dual purpose - both to discourage anyone on the stations from leaving, and to jam communications. No listening, no talking. Next stop was the fleet, and after that...Landaus.

[Thelza]

0235hrs 13 January, 2624
Landaus System, Landaus Central
CIC, TFSS Obelisk

Lt. General Arturia Windgate examined the holographic display of Landaus and the surrounding space. Her dreadnought, the Obelisk, floated serenely in the middle of her battlegroup of fifty ships within Lagrange point Dog. One of two dreadnoughts assigned to the 21^st SPA, her flagship was escorted by thirty destroyers and frigates of various classes while fifteen blockade runners and four cruisers made up the other half of her force. The force at Lagrange Able was similarly composed of forces while the battlegroup at Hotel consisted primarily of frigates and a few destroyers and cruisers, ready to re-deploy once the invading enemy force attacked. Together the three battlegroups formed a stellar triangular perimeter over their home system of Landaus.

Around her was the buzzing of the activity you would expect, communications officers sending out and receiving reports from the various forces in the system, the sensor officers glued to their screens waiting to see the tiniest hint of activity, and section heads sending green reports to the CIC that everything was good to go. The waiting seemed like forever but it had barely been a half hour after the warships over Landaus had assembled at their defensive positions. Initial frantic movement had given way to boredom and pained anxiety over the unknown. Jokes were few and far between for those that found themselves merely waiting for the coming attackers. At five past the half hour the invading Rawhein spawned into existence by the thousands and just as quickly began their ferocious attack on their waiting prey.

Within minutes a dozen ships had either been badly mauled or outright destroyed by the mass of firepower brought against them, their own counter fire bringing a number of the enemy combatants along with them. Obelisk's MACs and her eight grazers fired with devastating precision against the enemy, but it was too much. Soon Lt. General Arturia found her self the focal point of the attack as a force four times the size of her battlegroup began swarming against her command, heeding little in the way of sympathy for their falling compatriots or mercy for the Thelzans. In the span of ten minutes half of Atruria's battlegroup was little more than debris, the other two forces faring little better than her own. By fifteen minutes her carefully coordinated formation had been broken up as the Rawhein began targeting single ships en mass, quickly eating away the doomed ship's armor and shields. At twenty minutes Atruria's force existed in name only, the battlegroup reduced to a quickly dissipating number of three blockade runners, a dozen frigates and destroyers, a single cruiser and her flagship. Half of these vessels were now drifting powerless in space or too scared to continue battle from the unprecedented onslaught. The Obelisk herself was in its death throes, half her gun batteries knocked out of commission, numerous sections of the ship exposed to the vacuum of space, and her shields thoroughly rendered useless. As for the attackers they had retreated only to be reinforced by several hundred more ships, and were now quickly advancing on the condemned ships. Still shocked by the ravaging of her ships, Atruria was pulled back from the resignation of death to reality.

"Windgate, this is General Wayne, you are to take command of all ships still capable of FTL and retreat from the system. Leave the merchant marine to escort the civilians to safety and link up with Seventh Corps at Zephyr, do you copy?"

"General I still have ships too damaged from the attack, I can't leave them behind."

"Windgate, Landaus is lost. We've already lost over eighty percent of the 21^st in just over twenty minutes. Get whoever you can and get the hell out of here, leave the dying to die. Already these bastards are on the ground and cutting through our defenses like its paper, there is just too many of them and too little of us. Save the one's you can and just go. Wayne out."

Arturia paused momentarily at the brashness of the order, but she understood that after the display of the enemy's raw destructive power that had been delivered by a force of several thousand against their two hundred ships meant that victory would not be possible. Already it had been a one sided butchering of her comrades and if she lingered any longer she and everyone else would soon join the dead. So she gave the order for retreat to all surviving ships, and as she exited from Landaus space her heart broke for the abandoned crews of so many ships that could not. She would return to this system one day. And she would bring the wraith of Heaven itself upon this foe that now made short work of the crippled ships left behind.

---

Before the missile struck his compound and knocked out the building, Wayne watched as some twenty ships that were capable of flight entering into FTL and running from Landaus with all haste. In their wake they left behind close to twice as many ships that quickly disappeared under the withering fire of several thousand ships that were being reinforced with hundreds more. In just thirty minutes this enemy, whomever he was, had brushed aside the Thelzan forces like it was nothing and had deployed thousands of their troops onto the surface within minutes. Several cities where he had stationed forces on the outskirts of the sprawling military base had gone silent and the sky became quickly filled with enemy dropships and fighters. No matter how many were shot down it seemed that five were there to take its place while the defenders were being quickly wilted down under the massive barrage of missiles and orbital bombardments.

His compatriot Marcus had stayed behind in the war room, only to die with the hundred others in there as well when the Rawhein missile slammed into building. Now outside into a quickly changing reality, he grabbed an assault rifle from a fallen trooper that had been killed by shrpanel from a grenade and took position next to his old friend, Major Gando and the remnants of his battalion.

"Fine fucking day for a stroll, isn't it Major!?"

"With all due respect Sir, fuck no it isn't."

"What makes you say that son, wouldn't be those fuckers over there would it?"

He motioned over to a building where an infantry sized platoon had taken up position and began laying down a withering storm of fire unto their position. Ground and concrete became chewed up as another force of attackers began advancing on their flank. As the force of twenty Thelzans poured grenade and machine gun fire onto the assault element, a low flying gunship, the same that had carried Wayne from his porch several hours earlier, fired a burst of heavy cannon fire unto the enemy's support by fire position, silencing it forever. As soon as they had pinned down the assault element Gando spared a glance to Wayne to tell him why.

"Well, except for these dickheads, I might have been getting laid but got called in by Lt. General Marcus just before I had to pick your ass up."

"Damn, that sucks."

The two men spared a chuckle in the midst of the battlefield before a stray tank shot turned Gando and half of the defenders into red mist. As for Wayne, soon as he keyed back into reality he sighted the armored behemoth of alien design plowing down the road and his right arm all but shredded into mince meat. He swung his head to his right and left and saw a similar fate for the other dozen men under his command. He wanted to cry out in pain but could not find the words and instead watched as those that still had some sense about them grab those that they could and make a run for cover. They didn't get very far before a heavy machine gun sprawled them out in odd angles upon the ground. Grabbing his sidearm with his remaining functioning hand he began firing into the mass of enemy soldiers that had broken from cover and began to storm the last stronghold by the headquarters building. He fired until his magazine went empty and then resorted to picking up an assault rifle and pouring the last of its contents into the invaders. Before the magazine emptied his heart was stopped by a sniper's bullet.

The Battle of Landaus would be over in just under two hours, with back broken resistance continuing for another two weeks before the remnants forces would finally capitulate after exhausting their supplies of munitions and will against the over bearing invaders. For the rest of the Federation, the fall of Landaus would come as a complete shock to much of the military establishment. Within days another dozen systems would fall by the time the government sent a plea to international aid. As for the Rawhein, the victory only added to their morale and spirit as they began spreading like a cancer through Thelzan space. In the months to follow they would lay waste to a quarter of Thelza's territories before finally being fought into a bloody stalemate.

[RawHein]

It was a glorious day for Rei. Not only had she finished well within operation time, but she'd got to keep her position. The Third Sphere was as much of a shakedown/evaluation as an actual operation - a handful of Jeks had been removed after bad performance, whereas she'd been promoted to Jekai. Jekai wasn't a step up in roles - she still commanded a Director - but she could pull rank on another jek. Granted, taking a couple of stations wasn't hugely difficult, but she'd proven herself competent in managing a group of cruisers, destroyers and troops without any losses. And just an hour ago she'd been briefed by the fleet Chek in person, and given the responsibility of overseeing part of the Landaus invasion. Normally a more experienced officer - one that had commanded a warship before dinistrio - would be in charge, but a lot of them had had to take a bump up to strategic roles behind the lines, what with good officers being in short supply.

Rei shifted in her considerably more comfortable seat - one of her first acts as jekai had been to 'request' some better equipment to be included in the logistics hauler, along with the fuel, rations and ammunition. After all, she had a little prestige of getting a modern shuttle back intact - more luck than skill. Only a little, but enough to be happy about. She glanced at the time on her seat's projector before sighing and thumbing the comms button.

"Cruiser comms, Alect group. Last minute reminder, boys and girls: notice your fucking designator. These ships have a century on us, so they'll take massed fire to go down. Stay together, and absolutely no going maverick. Do that, and I'll melt your sword down myself if you don't get torn in half first. And bloody pass that on to the destroyers, too, cause they fucking need it. End comms, destroyer comms: We'll be letting you off of the leash in a minute or so, after which you'll get my daily bollocking via the cruisers - that's in advance, so I don't have to reach into the Grisil Marsh after you've croaked it and give it then. End comms, and seal docks."

Rei couldn't hear it from the Director's Chair, but she knew what was happening. All through the network of docking frames covering the Director's hull, the destroyers' werre being prepped for release. Docking clamps were holding still, but hatches were being sealed and bolted automatically. Poor sods don't get an airlock.

The 'destroyers' meant for Thelza weren't the best - hell, they weren't destroyers by any definition pre-dinistrio. The thinking was that if Thelza had weapons decades in advance of the Raw'hein, no armour could possibly stop it - thus, fleet doctrine was to mob the enemy with heavily-armed, lightly-armoured ships in hugely lopsided numbers. Incredible losses were unavoidable, so they were minimised by having each loss be replacable by equally incredible reserves. To that end, every corner possible was cut on the destroyers - they couldn't even jump, relying instead on the huge Directors to move them between battlezones, patch them up and resupply. Rei hated the logic as much as she understood it, but at least she was the safest one could be in battle - Directors, carrying as they did the group's brain, kept well away from combat. Speaking of which...

Rei switched her console to tactical mode, watching as more screens unfolded from her chair's arms and video feeds were replaced by a tactical map of Landaus. She formed a small blob, rapidly left behind by the sharp cone of the Alect group. Zooming out, she could see the tips of Bono and the smaller Goshak group closing on the defending groups, as well as a closing sphere of the predator perimeter guard. Originally, they were to form a single strong formation, with powerful focused fire taking down one ship at a time and damaged ships exchanging places with their undamaged brethren on the inside. However, Strategic had learned from Rei and the rest of the Third Sphere strike groups' experience with near-miss escapes, and had broken up the formation into smaller wedges to keep the potential battle lines over the whole planet - the predator guards were designed for speed to destroy any attempted escapees, but the orbital defence had to be at least preoccupied first. Zooming out further, she saw more systems undergoing simultaneous attack, and took a second to appreciate the size and scale of the attack- no, the invasion.

A sharp bleep snapped her out of it, and Rei refocused. That dreadnought was a distraction, a deliberately big and tough target to draw fire, and Alect had taken the bait. Rei quickly tapped its icon, tagging it as a suppress-only target and sighing with relief as Alect switched targets, one ship at a time, to the surrounding ships - she ordered the AI to remind her of the ships with the longest response times after the battle, for later bawling out. Then she frowned - the enemy wasn't shooting right, or at all. They had dinistrio weaponry all right, and she couldn't deny that her stomach clenched seeing the holes punctured in cruisers from the terrifyingly powerful rounds, but that was all they were firing. Ships that size couldn't have just one weapon type, and it was firing way too slowly.

"Sir?" Rei checked the headset volume, before realising that it was another bloody clone. Her Sub-Directors should be taking care of this, but the group was frankly huge, almost a fleet in its own right, and teething troubles were to be expected - or, rather, totally overwhelming.
"Yes?"
"Well sir, the ship won't move and I was wondering if you could tell it to?"
Good grief.
"Look-" Rei started, before stopping and adding some nectar to her voice. "Can I talk to your handler?"
"Uh, he asked me to talk to you, so I could learn how to do it if he was dead." Rei actually heard the clone's voice crack on the last word, and decided to pile on the sugar.
"Okay, what's your name?"
"Taj. P-pilot Hek'taj, eyedee too-for-sicks-oh-wun."
"Right. Taj, I have a few thousand ships to manage and not much time. Please, please explain what you need." And when this is over, I will find your handler, duel them, and kill them.
"Um, destroyer nine-oh-four-three. Their guns have stopped and they aren't replying."

Kill them slowly. Dishonourable, but oh, so satisfying. Bring up the tactical console and - oh, shit. Oh, shit. There were a lot of ships tagged as unresponsive, some of them otherwise undamaged. Well, at least Rei could guess why they were only shooting Dinistrii. But what could be doing it? If communications were out, there were special manoeuvres meant to signal that - if all control systems were out, the crew could blow their hatch and go out in their suits, to protect them from the vaccumn and the rad- oh. Oh, no. Rei jabbed the comms button again.

"Emergency broadcast, all ships! Put your suits on, fucking now! They're using gamma beams!"

The suits wouldn't stop the radiation, but hopefully both them and the ships' hulls would slow the damage down. What next....

"All ships on the front lines, disengage immediately and withdraw to the Director for emergency treatment. Reserve lines, you're up - use tow lines if you must, but get out there." She let the button up before jabbing it again. "Medical. Prepare for an influx of radiation poisoning, there may have been deaths already. "Up, jab. "Engineering, soon as this battle is over you'll have a lot of dead ships floating, so be ready to launch salvage teams as soon as we're done here. No damage expected, just dead crews." Up, jab. "Hein's Fist. Report defence groups using radioactive weaponry, armour insufficient. Suggest use of vac-suits to mitigate." Up, jab. "Logistics. Need a large supply of Hazard suits as soon as possible, enough to supply destroyer crews." Up...that's it. That's all I can do. She turned her head back to the tactical screen, glumly estimating the number of losses. Hundreds, probably.

Still, her orders were having visible effect. A thin, stringy convoy of destroyers started to pull out from the centre, their places on the front taken by reservists. About half had a dead comrade tied on their underbellies, something that just made Rei sadder. Still, she drew from her warrior's training, and reaching behind her gripped Rei'lik, still secure and reassuringly there in his sheath. She took a breath, and looked again, glad her sub-directors were busy at the stations below and ahead of her. The formation was a great deal better now, blazing with renewed fire as ships fell. Now they could guess at how heavily armoured each class was, fire control could be divided up into sub-groups within the formation to expand from one to three, then four ships going down at a time. Reserves had taken a huge hit, but the remainder should last. Bono and Goshak groups were doing pretty badly without the numbers Alect had, but they'd pull through as well.

The predators had closed in neatly, converging on and bringing down fleeing ships before they could even break out of the atmosphere. Better, their creation meant that Rei could skip a phase of the invasion - at her request, high-resolution cameras had been included in the design of her batch of predators. The data they were sending back was already being put to good use, positions of military significance identified and marked for later ground-ariel assault or straight bombing - in particular, high-ranking officers were to be located and held for diplomatic use. Warriors being held as hostages, particularly those of Great Houses, was a long tradition in Hein politics.

Another comm. It was a natural-born, luckily, one of her own subs - all the bad luck was in the news.
"Jekai, getting reports of rabbiting, that dreadnaught too. Maybe a quarter of them, but they're making a good showing - I don't know if we can catch them. Shall we order pursuit? "
A brief pause.
"...No. We've won here already, and they know it. It'll take too long for Alect to shift around as a whole - reassign the closest destroyers, but if they start taking damage let them break off pursuit. In any case, prepare for mop-up and salvage ops, and I'll contact the secondaries to bring in the troopers and fliers for suppression. This battle is over."

[Thelza]

January 18, 2624
Thelza, Erins Fields
The War Cabinet

In days past the War Cabinet had been nothing more than an extra office or storage room, depending on the High Chancellor at the time and his or her priorities on national defense. Truthfully, had it not been for the ongoing piracy in the Omega Gameis Cluster then Kodiak himself would have found no reason to refurbish the office for its intended purpose. Now, in hindsight of the massive invasion pouring into Thelza's outer territories he wished he had done more than refurbished the office. But as it was, the sphereical room with its quiet air conditioning and astral projections of casualties, ships damaged or lost, occupied territories, and even projected movements of alien fleets was more than sufficient if not for the growing crowd of generals, defense & intelligence analysts, and weapons experts who each had their own two cents to throw into every conversation and debate, regardless if it was outside of their realm of expertise. Turning his gaze from the crowd back to the recent subject matter expert on the invasion, and he means recent, High Chancellor Christian Kodiak refocused his aging eyes on the thirty something year old giving a presentation on potential and actual ship production.

"....so in short gentlemen and ladies, our potential ship production equates to about eight million metric tons of production a month. However, our actual rate of construction is about a half of that with the majority of that going to civil construction as of the recent economic report from the first of the month. Now this is only based off of current shipyards and manufactures. If we were to federalize our industrial base we could be producing on upwards to twenty to thirty million metric tons a month, but there would be significant hurdles in the form of the various unions, corporations, and political organizations-"

"Professor, if I may, what does this rate, both actual and potential, do for our numbers? How many ships can we replace for our losses? And, if any thing, how will this impact the war effort in our favor?"

"Mr. Kodiak, at present we're losing a ship for every five of theirs, but where we can field a dozen they can bring a hundred to bear. Even if we were to go face to face in a battle of attrition, our current rate of production and new soldiers would not be able to keep pace with the losses and the enemy's ability to replace his own casualties. Therefore, even with the damage we could inflict on the enemy they could sustain their numbers whereas we would be worn down to the point where we could no longer resist. If we were to switch to a total war rate of production than we'd be able to improve our ability to replace the losses. However, without external support we won't be able to match the enemy's rate and they would still grind us down, albeit much more slowly."

"With the present rate of losses we are sustaining, how long can we hold out General Selxa?"

General Selxa, overall commander of the Thelzan Space Forces shifted slightly in his seat as all eyes in the room focused on him. Taking a sip from his coffee while scanning his notes, he looked up from his desk console and answered.

"High Chancellor, at the rate of losses we are sustaining with our current strategy we can expect a complete military collapse of our forces as early as April or May. From there we can expect the Core Worlds to fall by early July."

Murmurs and gasps erupted around the room at the bleak strategic outlook for the war, itself barely a week old. For several minutes that was all the sound that filled the room as analysts, generals, and the various cabinet members sought to counter General Selxa's estimates, the majority finding it to be spot on if not unbelievable. As the voices died down with the wave of Christian's hand, he narrowed his gaze on Thelza's top general.

"I assume you have a plan of action then, General?"

"Yes Sir, we trade space for time. If we were to collapse our frontlines to the Zephyr perimeter and all along the Esther Corridor we'd be able to establish a much more solid line of defense. However, it will result in us abandoning those systems outside of it such as Nellis, Devin, Haroka, Brandenburry, Piper, and Forester. All together we'd be leaving behind anywhere from a hundred to two hundred and fifty million civilians, depending on the rate of evacuation and refugees in those systems. Regardless, we'd be able to consolidate our frontier and second sphere forces into a much more larger and capable armada that can go toe to toe with the invaders, if only for long enough for our allies to rally their own forces."

Christian mulled his options. If he continued what they had been doing, fighting bitterly until forced to withdraw, then he would lose the whole of his nation to a foreign enemy that hadn't even the courtesy to proclaim their reasons for the war to begin with. But if he adopted Selxa's plan of action then he would be throwing a half dozen systems down the drain along with their civil populations, not to mention the untold millions of refugees that had managed to escape at the on set of the conflict.

"Live to fight another die I suppose....General Selxa, order a withdrawal to the Zephyr perimeter and the Esther Corridor. Any ships or troops that can't make it are to conduct attacks against enemy rear forces until such time that we can liberate those systems. And we will, no matter how long it takes us, no matter the cost or casualties, take back our space."

---

January 18, 2624
Nellis System
21st SPA
TFSS Obelisk

Arturia watched as another destroyer disappear from her screen in the hours long battle for Nellis, itself slowly becoming a repeat of the fall of Landaus but more blunted thanks to the arrival of reserve forces from the Zephyr squadrons. But that was over an hour ago and against the mass of enemies barreling down on the system there was little to do but fall back step by step to Nellis' third moon, Aerivon, where the majority of the Nellis fleet had reassembled and were now holding it by the skin of their teeth. But rather than be angry by the loss of another one of her subordinates, she was furious about the orders that had come through from High Command.

"What the hell do you mean withdrawal!? We can hold onto Nellis for at least another day until reinforcements arrive from the Core systems!"

"Arturia, we're getting attacked all along the frontier and we need to consolidate our forces if we are to launch an eventual counter-attack. Holding Nellis at the current time is doing nothing but bleeding us out for a system that strategically, can't be held. We've already had to commit reserves to Nellis from the Zephyr Line. I don't need to remind you that Zephyr is the gate way into the First Sphere, and if the enemy takes Zephyr it will be weeks if not days before we're trying to fight them off of Thelza itself. Save what ships you can and haul ass out of there! Selxa out."

"Fuck me!"

Arturia pounded her fists on the console as the image of General Selxa disapeared. Since Landaus she and the rest of her forces had been on the run and mixing it in with similiar units that had been cut down with a reaper's vengeance. By the time she had made it to Nellis she had lost half of her ships from the original 21st, but had gained nearly three times as many from forlorn squadrons and individual ships that managed to make it to Nellis. Expecting the four hundred ships of the Nellis Defense Fleet to finally put a stop to the enemy's advance she became heart broken as their losses piled up while the enemy just kept coming in waves.

True, for Nellis and other systems like it they had managed to put a hurt on the enemy, but it wasn't enough to hold back the tidal wave that was flooding through Thelza's space. And now, fighting bitterly over the last moon of Nellis she had to concede that running to Zephyr was the only smart thing to do. The only thing they could do.

"Krafter, how many ships can make the trip to Zephyr?"

"Ma'am, at present only one hundred and six of our two-hundred and fifteen ships can make the run, the rest are too damaged from battle to be able to escape. If we were to cover their retreat until we made it several AU from Nellis we may be able to repair a few dozen and transfer the wounded before leaving."

Arturia scoffed at the idea. While she would have done everything for her wounded soldiers it was the reality of the situation that snuffed that idea out before it could have a chance to breathe life. No way that the enemy would allow a few hundred ships to withdrawal unmolested for a chance to fight another day. Better that they were sacrificed as a rear-guard then see the entirety of her remaining fleet annihilated.

"No, these bastards won't let us run without chasing us down. All those ships too damaged for FTL will conduct a rear-guard action while the rest of the fleet makes its escape to Zephyr."

"Yes Ma'am."

How many was it, she wondered. How many of my boys and girls did I just abandon as sacrificial lambs so I can get away. How many of my troopers are going to die before we stop these fuckers...

Pulling a manifest up of her ships, she had the AI mark in red those ships that would be left behind to their deaths. From there, she began pulling up the crew manifests and reading the names of the sacrificed as the Obelisk was once again forced to take flight from the enemy.

I'll remember all of you. I swear it. Your deaths won't go to waste, by the blood of God and all those that have died, are dying, and those that will die before the end comes. I swear I'll avenge you all...I swear it...

[Bentus]

January 12th, 2624 (2891 BST)
Commonwealth Headquarters, Bentus

President Hayes stood silent behind the podium as the flashes of cameras sporadically blinded his vision. He seemed to be surveying the reporters and cameras arrayed before him, his face stern and his features locked in determination. To the people of Bentus who would come to watch the historic announcement, he would be seen as a symbol of strength and power. President Hayes would be torn apart and analysed by future Bentusi historians for the speech he was about to make – every detail would be dealt the highest scrutiny. Many would try to guess as to the emotions that were playing out in the leader’s head and heart that day, how he felt about the path which he was taking his people down. But, from the images broadcast throughout the homeworld and the colonies, they could only guess.

“My fellow Bentusi, I address you today with a heavy heart and a message of tragedy.” News corporations had been scrambling and speculating about the purposes of this conference in the hour since it had been announced, and now every word was taken with hushed breath. “I will tell you now what I informed the heads of states of the Commonwealth member nations one hour ago: we are at war.” Shock and disbelief spread like a wildfire as the message was received across the light-years. “For the first time in its history, a GESO member has activated its rights under article 4 of the treaty. Yesterday, an unidentified force launched a brutal an unprovoked assault on Thelzan colonies, taking over a number of worlds including the colony of Landaus. Whilst casualties at this point are unknown, there has been no confirmed contact from any of the fallen worlds, which had a combined population of more than 15 million souls.” A sharp intake of breath from the crowd of reporters escaped before it could be stifled. “As we speak, the sons and daughters of Thelza are fighting a battle for their very survival and existence against a merciless and unforgiving foe. As Bentusi, when we make a promise to a friend and an ally, we abide by it and meet any challenges with the rigour and determination that have allowed for our civilization to reach for the stars. Today, my fellow Bentusi, I declare that we cannot allow this attack to go unopposed. Nor will we allow it to be said, that as our ally burned and countless perished did we stand idly by and allow it. Today, future generations – not only of Bentusi – will look at our actions and judge us. I ask of you to join me in offering our support to the people of Thelza. I have already instructed that the Commonwealth Defence Authority mobilise a force to be sent to the besieged worlds. The road will be hard, and sacrifices will be made. But we are a strong people, and we will not falter.” As the President finished, he was met by an eruption of applause.

January 18th, 2624 (2891 BST)
Edge of Bentusi system

The fleet loomed silently in the black. A dozen ships of the Commonwealth Defence Authority hung motionless, monuments to how far the Bentusi had come since they first joined GESO. Small sparks and lights blinked in and out of existence along their hulls, welders and crewmen supervising the attachment of the tow-lines that would enable the allied vessels to pull the Commonwealth craft into FTL. That specific technology still eluded engineers and scientists on Bentus, but many thought that it was only a matter of time before domestically sourced engines for the fleet could be made. Until then, they could rely on their GESO allies for hitchiking - but it wasn't a situation many of the CDA's higher ups wanted to continue. Within the holds of the vessels, crammed alongside munitions and crewmen, were the men and women of the CDA Army and Air force. Any soul aboard those ships would have heard a klaxon sounding throughout the metallic structures, accompanied by a short robotic countdown. To those outside, and lacking access to the radio frequency, it appeared as if all the ships suddenly accelerated to infinity. Hopefully they wouldn't arrive too late.

OOC: Shorter post and I'm not too sure about the whole 'first time in history' bit, but sounded cool.

[Creataris]

Salazar system
Garmillas
Baleras
Imperial Palace
Throne Room

The floating cameras trained themselves upon the stony faces of the Imperial government as they waited for the Emperor to speak. Emperor Abelt Desler, the 112th to bear that noble name, looked up from his wine, opened his eyes and spoke the words he was both reading and loving. "Noble citizens of Garmillas, I speak to you today for one purpose and that is the purpose for which we live" came the solemn words "this nation, and you her wondrous citizens, is as of this moment in a state of war. But fear not, for this is what we have trained for, what we have prepared for, what our civilisation is geared for and what we must do. Our ally Thelza has invoked article 4 of the GESO charter and we will respond, already a detachment has been sent ahead of a gathering fleet to provide assistance " with this Dessler stood and raised his goblet, a gesture mirrored by the rest of the room, to begin a toast which was echoed across the empire "Gahle Thelza, Gahle Garmillion, Gahle Iscander, Gahle Pheuzeron".

Salazar system
Garmillas orbit

Fifteen sleek yet blocky vessels slid gracefully out of the methane/CO2 atmosphere of Garmillas to make all due haste in perfect formation towards the Geschtam gate located near Garmillas. This gate had been specially reoriented and programmed to take them directly to the Milky Way galaxy for Thelza to hold the line until a full fleet complete with its own support fleet to assemble and head of as well. As the ships passed through the gate one thought went through the minds of any observers 'Will they be enough'?

OOC: Translations- Gahle=Glory/Glory to, Garmillion=Garmillas, Iscander=Sister world of Garmillas and home of every Empress, Pheuzeron=Former king of Iscander who formed the beginnings of the empire, Geschtam=warp

[RawHein]

Hein]Nar (Previously Hein]Lar)*
Chelkai'rek Plaza

Once again, Rek found himself standing just behind the podium, before the muted roar of a crowd still piling into the specially constructed plaza. It had taken more time than necessary, especially with the with the accelerating technological revolution that hadn't stopped since Thelzan ships started to be pulled apart in the prototyping shipyards. But he'd insisted that it be done using traditional methods, with native Hein architecture and, where possible, materials from the devastated cradle of civilisation, right down to the ground beneath the white marble floor. That had taken up the bulk of it - without robotic workers, the new ice age meant that the only thing Hein would be good for would be eventual archeology. It was, he mused, almost as if Dinistrio had a grudge, was determined to ruin the world totally, even after genocides. Still, both he and the religious bloodlines had agreed that it was important for the Raw'hein to have something to cling to, some part of Hein to hold in their grief. Services and blessings held there weren't uncommon, and for the Ar]Heins it was the only place left to worship.

Time had changed him - he took a suck of green vapour this time, meant for energising actors before a show. No longer as nervous, but the youthful vitality was quietened - the four years of leading a whole alliance of planets, even one united in rage, had pushed him from mid- to late lifetime. If he was lucky, he'd last another twenty years or so. It was the warrior blood in him - warriors burned out fast, but their passion had given him an edge in a time when the Hein were wounded, and wanted blood. Another puff, and he was up.

"Raw'hein", he began, "we are blooded, and raw and vengeful. Our home destroyed, our fate unclear. It is my hope, then, that my news will inspire some hope, that our grief and pain might be lifted somewhat, that soon the death and destruction we have endured will be balanced by that of those who have caused it." Behind him, flag bearers withdrew as great projectors snapped to life, showing the state of Thelza.

"Almost, Raw'hein! We are mere fingers from victory!" The crowd's roar overwhelmed the audio dampeners, installed to prevent earwhisker damage - doubtless, the parameds would have a busy night. "And yet -ourselves-" He waited a few seconds more. "And yet, still they resist, still denying their own guilt, even as the blood of our brothers and sisters and mothers and fathers and sons and daughters drip from their mouths, sprays out with every word! And we shall repay it, make no doubt! Our ships refitted, the enemies secrets uncovered! Even as I speak, the finest academic bloodlines dedicate themselves to the principles of the enemy's weapons, pull apart and make them work for us! With every victory, we learn more -train more- and improve! Every life given up takes ten from them! We are unstoppable - we are the force for justice and redress in this war, the gods bless our beamers and 'plosers just as we bless our blades!" He drew his own, the historic Kal'lith wielded in the legendary battle of the Red Fortress that had finally united the warring tribes of Hein into a cohesive nation - it had been presented with great aplomb after the taking of Landaus.

"My siblings, with me! Our Blades Blessed!"
"BLADES BLESSED!"
"Our Blood Strong!"
"BLOOD STRONG!"
"And our Lives to Victory!"
"TO VICTORY!"

---

*Lit: Hein's Heir, Hein's Son

[Dead Snow]

Dead Snow;
Prosperan System;
Rheyddn;
Thalr;

The church yard was quiet, if you listened hard enough you could hear the dead groan. The crowd had gathered in front of the church in the hour that the announcement was made. Dead Snow was going to war. Not with herself like last time, but in the aid of an unknown besieged ally. Aesthear had long grumbled about these alliances, being drawn in to war for some far off souls. She had prepared herself for the crowds, there wasn't going to be a happy reaction. After all, it was only a short decade ago the civil war ended. But here they were, on the brink of apocalypse.

Aesthear strode out on to the balcony above her awaiting subjects. The balcony arched out from the wall, a large spire towering up to the heavens above. Aesthear looked up, somewhere out there people were dying. Not hundreds or thousands, but millions. And something had to be done. She cleared her throat, stepped forward as a subdued silence fell over the crowd.
"Today is a dark day for Dead Snow and GESO. One of our allies has been brutally attacked without warning by an unknown entity. We have been drawn into this combat for the sake of allies children. Their blood shall not be spilt. Their souls will be avenged. We will noy stand by and let this horrific bloodshed continue. No more shall Dead Snow remain unknown. We are the cavalry. We shall fight until there is no more fight left! We shall strike fear into the galaxy's heart! Today is the day Dead Snow goes to war! We will not let these children grow up under occupation."
With the conclusion of the short speech came a surge in applause from the hundreds of people who filled the square. Although there was cheers and shouts of support, the crowd had realized what this meant. They could be bringing war to their doorsteps. To their children.

---

Aesthear sat upon her throne in the antechamber, a holo screen had been wheeled in. Such archaic technology, wheels. But this was the nation that still used pens and paper. Havelock stood next to the screen, surrounded by military officials and advisors. "So your telling me we have little to go on?" Aesthear couldn't believe her ears. An impressive number of enemy ships had flooded the Thelzan system and razed everything to the ground as they went. "Yes ma'am. I'm aware of how this sounds, but we are obliged to help." A suited and booted adviser spoke up, shuffling revealed his nervousness infront of the Queen. "Status on our own fleets?" Aesthear turned to the three navy officials, clearly ignoring the last man to speak. "Battlegroups 1 through 6 are operational, 7 through 9 still undergoing load out. The others haven't even left dry dock. And for crew, apart from training, over half have never seen real combat. The..." He was interrupted by Aesthear, "Please, it's ground troops I'm concerned for. You naval people have aim assist on!" A quiet chuckle spread the room as the men remembered their days playing first person shooters from childhood. A quick wave from Aesthear put that to sleep. "Get 1, 2 and 3 there now. 4 through 6 in a holding position a few light years away. Time to test the new fleet eh? Aelixx, your in charge on the field. Bring me their skulls."
A chorus of 'yes ma'ams' followed as the men went of to ready their respective parties.

---

Edge of Prosperan System;

The 96 ships of BattleGroup one through three sat in formation, awaiting the orders to depart. A few miles behind sat the next 96 ships to leave for Thelzan space. It was shaping up to be a bloody war. The plan for Dead Snow was to enter the war zone, secure operational space and then give it to those fuckers. The Gothic architecture of the 200 or so war ships would strike fear into the enemy; how could something as archaic looking as those pack a punch of a thousand suns? The spires and arches glinted in the warm light falling from the double suns. The gargoyle's, under those arches, faces seemed to contort into maddening grins, they would taste blood before the week was out.
Suddenly, without warning 20 more ships jumped into the system. These were the recently aquired cruisers from The Terran Alliance, these ships stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the other ships, they were far to sleek and modern to of Dead Snow construction. But a valued purchase nonetheless. They were split down the middle, ten to the first set of BattleGroups and ten to the next. These ships would once again fight alongside their Terran brethren.

Aelixx Guyta stood upon the bridge of his flagship Clockwork Death, a dreadnought of epic proportions. He had opened a channel across the war fleet. He strode across the bridge, to the real glass window on the bridge, it arced around him in a semi circle, the depths of space laid out in front of him. "Ladies and Gentlemen, just a heads up before we enter the war. We shall be arriving hot. And I mean scorching. But we do this for our allies and Snow. For Snow!" A resounding 'for Snow' echoed around the bridge, and every other bridge for that matter.
While the ships prepared for departure the system's defense platforms whirred into life, it was almost a certainty that retaliatory strikes shall be made. With that, a quick crackle of blue energy flowed over the ship's hulls as the ether engulfed them and hurtled them towards certain death. Or glory...

[OMGeverynameistaken]

Hein Orbit
ICSS Survey Craft Strannik

"Somebody really did a number on this one, eh?"

His High Ancestry Vissarion Ivanovich Lenotiev, leaned forward with evident interest, inspecting the planetary impact crater. Time and weather had worn it down, softening edges and blurring lines, but it was evident that something with significant kinetic energy had slapped this planet quite hard. That was what had gotten their attention, the probe which had popped into the system for a brief check noting the disturbance, and the evidence of a spacefaring civilization, before making its next jump, relaying the news through the Etherway. The Strannik had been quick to follow up, as the bored nobility of the Imperial Cartographic Society were prone to do.

"Aye, that's gotta be, what, some kinda c-frac weapon, yeah?" Matviev Grabbe, his navigator and copilot, surveyed the view from the vessel's powerful gravlens telescope. He was not noble, or at least significantly less so than his compatriot. While technically a member of a prominent Cossack family, he was quite far down the line, thus explaining his presence in this far-faring exploration vessel not so much by boredom as by being an embarrassment to his family's dignity.

"Hrm." Vissarion nodded, "It's a damn shame when pre-FTL types get their hands on this sort of thing. Primitives who don't know what they're doing end up wiping themselves out." He shook his head, "Well, I suppose a quick check for survivors can't hurt. There's still an atmosphere and it looks like some of the local flora, at least, managed to make it through. Give them a call!"

Matviev grunted his doubt, "Bah, the place is wrecked. Survivors probably killed each other off with nukes or somesuch. That's what they do, you know. Nukes. It almost happened to us once."

Vissarion raised an eyebrow, "Oh? Would you care to wager on the subject? Catherine III here says there's somebody down there to respond." He drew a 20 rouble note from his pocket, displaying the portrait of the famous autocratic monarch for Matviev's approval.

"Done. And no taking it back, either. This is a solemn agreement between gentlemen, remember." The cossack noble spun his chair to face the ship's communication console, which he fiddled with in a technical manner, "Standard first contact protocols. All legit, right?" He waited for Vissarion to nod before pressing the 'dispatch' button which initiated the broadcast.

As a general broadcast intended for system-wide coverage, the device acted through the ships' powerful drive system, which threw out enough assorted EM radiation even when it was idling to be easily mistaken for that of a good sized cruiser, rather than the modest frigate the Strannik actually was. The ship pulsed out prime numbers from two to seven several times, followed up by greetings in several common languages, and the atomic numbers of the primary chemical components of the system's star in descending order. Matviev sat back, eyebrow raised and smirking, while Vissarion watched the transmitter expectantly.

[Yalos]

Tag for Amazing FT post about starships and lazors. Brb

[The Fedral Union]

A time to …Act


Vice Admiral Simon Griffin sunk in to his command chair, his smooth lithe hands placed upon the two groves of his armrests computer interface system. His mind amongst many others was now merged in that vast AI mediated group mind that had become so common to the Terran Ships. The alien feeling of the thoughts from the vastly powerful AI and the other officers thoughts crept through his brain.

-”As of 1600 hours we’ve been moved to ACON 1, we’re now in the thick of it ladies and gentlemen.”-

Griffin said to the collectives of GRF task force 6 of the third GRF fleet, his voice was grave and indeed the face he had on with its smooth lines looked grim. The situation had started innocently enough, and now was threatening to spiral out of control into some conflagration. Yet no one knew how far it would really go, and how many would die.

The Ships AI replied, the flagship of task force six was the GRV Essex BBG-190 and accordingly its AI was named after the ship. His tone was plain, and unlike most of his compatriots he kept the macabre feelings about their new found reality he had down.

-”At the moment, Star Command and GRF command are still trying to ascertain any advanced intelligence on what we’re facing .

As such have only assigned the third fleet, the sixth fleet and the fourth fleets to mobilize in defense of allied worlds. “-

Griffin let out a sigh, he shifted in his seat his mind being inundated with a rush of images, a dynamic three dimensional sphere appeared before him and the other officials. It showed Thelzian space, key world’s and what ever disposition of forces or incursions they could have gotten wind of. The situation was still fresh and a sort of shock was still about the command staff, yet they knew they had to get things underway and prepare. Griffin said in a somber yet unshaken voice that with its accent made it quite evident he was from Triminus.

-”Our orders are to coordinate with the Thelzian high command, while the big wigs upstairs come up with a grand strategy. We’ve gotta meet up with task force three, task force four, task force eight and task force seven and head to the Thelzian home system to rendezvous with them.”-


Griffin lips pressed together his facade was calm, yet inside he could feel the uncertainty of the whole situation building up. All the task forces combined would equate to fifty ships, it was a fair number for a Terran force but in the grand scheme of things it was just a drop in the proverbial bucket. Essex nodded, Griffins XO Rear Admiral Hyrik Vorkz, an Ixcumanin reptilian with black scales green runes and a well built form glanced at the two. His golden orbs focused on the tactical map and then on the AI and Griffin. Griffin through open coms across his task force and to the task forces en route to the location spoke bluntly.

-“Ladies and gentlemen..” -

Began the Vice Admiral

-“We don’t know what lies ahead, but its clear as you all know from the news reports that we’re now at war. There have already been so many unnecessary deaths, you know what's at stake. The lives of our friends, our brothers and our allies.

We can’t allow our friends to fall. We’ll see death, and we’ll see the unthinkable carnage of war; you all know this you’ve trained for this. I intended to take this force into harms way when the time comes and I intended to push back the enemy or die trying. If anyone has an objection, they can report to the nearest airlock or escape pod.”-

And thus the mighty task force of ten ships lead by the Jutland class GRV Essex, with their angled form and their semi rough and sleek white hulls began to jump in to the infinite dimension of hyperspace. Wormholes opening before them with blindingly bright displays of light , making it seem for a split second that several supernovas had reared their heads in the blackness of space.

The portals flared out leaving nothing behind not even a trace of their existence, the ships now awash in a vibrant stream of colors and energy that cascaded across their angled hulls left behind the buzzing system of Tyrian, a gem of a world that was teeming with billions of reasons for the fleets existence and its course toward the destiny that awaited them at the front lines.


..


The Executive mansion, New Sol, Neo-Earth


The wolvian-human President definitely yet with a somber look walked toward the podium down the long carpeted hall of the executive mansion. The podium sported the great seal of the alliance and presidency. She didn’t want to give this speech, to say that her people were now at war would now have to suffer the bloodshed and destruction of armed conflict, to see their allies and their friends murdered and laid waste to. But it was just because of the last fact and their international commitments that she had to give this speech. The Alliance wouldn’t let an ally fall, oh no they had a duty. Galloway began to speak.


“Ladies, and gentlemen of the galaxy and my fellow countrymen.”

“Over the course week we have witnessed a callous, a reckless and unfounded act of aggression against our allies the Thezelian people. They have invoked article 4, the GESO’s collective defense measure, and we cannot ignore that nor should we. We have the duty to, and the will to stop further aggression against The Thezlian Republic; a line must be drawn and the galaxy must know that the United Terran Alliance, and her armed forces will be willing to bare any price and any burden to secure the freedom and independence of our allies across this galaxy.

There is never a time, when the use of the Armed force of this nation is taken lightly and it pains me just as it will pain our brothers, fathers, sisters and children to see loved ones take up the call to arms and march to war. But it is a price we must pay, for ourselves, for the galaxy and for our allies. We cannot relent, and we shall not relent; we cannot tolerate or condone the aggression we’ve seen this week, the countless civilians and children who have done nothing but live their lives that have been killed speak plainly to us. They must not die in vain and we must let their cries from beyond be ones of rest and not ones of lost spirits.

Twelve hours ago, in a closed session of congress I asked that a state of war between the United Terran Alliance and the Allied States of Rawhein be declared. And with a vote of 9:8 this resolution was passed. It’s set in motion some prearranged executive orders and measures to ensure the full might of the Terran Armed forces will be brought to bare; we will stand firm with our allies and with the Thezlain people, will not yield to foreign aggression and will see this war through no matter the cost we shall put a stop to the abhorrent and senseless murder of innocent people. I should point out that our people and the allied powers are willing to take measures to resolve this diplomatically but until such time the Rawhein displays overtures or a willingness to abandon their current course our choice and path are clear.

While the people of Rawhein may be "justified" in demanding answers for this accident. And indeed we at least share one thing, the quest for the truth. But do we all agree they are justified in their reprisal?

I have the utmost faith in our armed forces, they are some of the best trained, best equipped men and women in the galaxy today and they deserve nothing but our full support. They are the vanguards of liberty, the protectors of the innocent and of our people and I have the utmost conviction in them and their cause; they will succeed.

Thank you.. And good evening. ”


Supreme Allied Headquarters, command meeting


General Cortez and Admiral Hastings walked into the carpeted incandescently lit chamber and took their respective seats. The adaptive gloss over the meta glass windows had polarized slightly to mitigate the sunlight's entry into the room. The great Seal of the GRF hung behind the two men as they folded their hands before them awaiting the other allied commanders entrances. Things needed to be coordinated, everyone knew this; the Allied powers were sensible they worked together and this was part of that team work, all the commanders of GRF from the respective GESO powers had been contacted and notified of the meeting.

This was the start of a long, road a long bloody war. What ever the outcome was they were both confident they would be come out on top. Any bloodshed was unacceptable, but they wanted to mitigate needless death both civilian and military, and no one knew what had just begun. Cortez and Hastings were both capable and intelligent men.

[Itailian Maifias]

Commodore Jarred Severt C.G.C. D.S.M. with Star, M.C.
H.N.S. Macedon [BB-12], Rudianos-class battleship, Task Force 7 Flagship
Docked at Kildare Forge Mobile Yards, in orbit of Bentus, Bentusi System
January 12th, 5E121, 1:34 PM [Local Time]


The wardroom on the Macedon had always been an important location; foreign dignitaries, visiting captains, hostile parties wishing for terms, all had been hosted in the wardroom of the nearly decade old battleship, however, now it was turning into a new chapter; planning out the Kingdom's first major foray into international cooperation on an galactic scale.

Here assembled in the massive one hundred meter room were the commanders of all ships in Task Force 7, the garrison force assigned to the Bentus System for the duration of the Spatial Assistance Project; all of them were docked at the experimental Forge mobile shipyard, named Kildare a few years prior. Jarred sat at the head of the semi-oval table, with the commanders of the other ships in chairs on the sides all in their standard duty uniforms, the green jackets displaying unique collections of medals; all of the officers were veterans of the Swarm Incursion, Jarred himself was present at the Battle of Valte, and the Liberation of Rekta; back then, he was a cocky hot-aired commander of a Stormage heavy cruiser and not even thirty years old with a full head of black hair. Now, he stood here laying out the war plans of a massive operation, as a Commodore, and a man of fifty seven years with more then a few silver hairs.

" Now gentlemen, the Bentus Commonwealth has decided to answer the Thelzian call for aid, however due to their FTL development programs a few months behind, we will, for a lack of better words, tugging their transports and ships into the battle. All of your ships refits should be completed by yesterday evening or this morning's twilight morning hours, we will be performing the jump in approximately one hour. Our arrival point will be the Core Worlds system, just near the planet of Halens. According to latest GESO reports, the Thelzans have withdrawn to what they call the Esther Corridor, with the front line systems being here at Zephyr, North, Evermore, Hawkins, and many others."

Jarred pointed with a laser pointer as he moved along, highlighting Thelzan and Hein positions before continuing " Current Phase I plans are to establish contact with Thelzan command at Zephyr and help stabilize their front, stop the bleeding as it were, while GESO forces organize in the Core Worlds system. We will arrive, approximately, in two days, with the 3rd Fleet arriving three days later, bringing all eighty five warships with it."

One of more junior officers in the room, a lieutenant commander, let a low whistle out with a few be quiet looks shot his way shortly afterwards. " Yes, 85 warships; if a historian can confirm, I believe that's the largest force we've assembled since the bloody Swarm. I'd prefer to have more, given reports on how vicious these Hein ships are, but it's all Admiralty could spare from the Badlands, so, we'll have to make do."

" Make do indeed, no less then more then a dozen Venture battleships and not one but two Harrower dreadnoughts..." Commander Greaves, a rather decorated officer known for his braziness commented outloud

" Indeed. Admiral Ocano will take over operational command once he's arrived with the Greenblades, until then, you're stuck with me gents. "

" What about ground forces? "

" In addition to the the Bentusi CDA, Highlord Warrington himself confirmed to me besides the deployment of the 5th Marines, that Legio IX Gemini will be de.."

" Gods Above, a whole Legion? Wasn't aware we had those for chucking around"

The Legion's reputation preceeded them; after the Fall of the Empire in the Polidan War, when the Kingdom was formed, there was a number of Legions left over from the Empire, best estimates put it at sixty and more. With most of the funding thrown at developing the Navy, the Legion's were allowed to keep their Imperial traditions and honors, in return for being the official 'Army'. Their level of training and sheer ruthlessness was infamous even in the Navy, especially after the Regusian Incursion, but the Swarm bloodied them; the Legion fought them tooth for tooth and brought them to a standstill just a few jumps from Eire herself, allowing for the Navy to make a come back. But at a price; the Legion War Academy had been destroyed when Yol was sacked and it was still being re-staffed. The deployment of one of the few remaining Legions showed how committed the King was to this.

" Indeed, they shall augment the Marines on the ground, as well as help free up our greenbacks for some boarding action that they all love. Now then, you all will have official orders once you return to your ships, you are dismissed. See you in the firing line boys."

The officers collectively stood and saluted before filing out, one by one, Jarred bringing up the rear before heading for his own bridge, just four doors down. He couldn't help but still nearly gasp at the sheer amazement of the room; a massive room that had two floors, one you entered on from the entrance or turbolift before having two ramps carry you down to the main floor. There was the dias with that rose above the center of the first floor with the captain's chair, and then various command console's for the heads of each department and what not. The bridge as it stood was fully staffed with all senior officers, the klaxon had already been sounded for General Quarters just in case something very terrible happened on the transit over.

Jarred quickly made his way towards his chair, once sitting down the heads up display being automatically projected in front of him, showing the overall status of the ship as well as some status updates. As he drilled through them quickly, he called out towards his Executive Officer, a Commander Edward Leath, a short man, very dutiful, very quiet and all business. " Commander, status updates, in order of priority if you please."

Edward had been examining the Gunnery Officer's station, but when he heard Jarred call out he quickly made his way to his own console in the back corner of the room, his eyes rolling over the number of data pads he had collected at it. " Kildare engineers left at 0600, ship refits are entirely complete; the warp drive has been augmented for the 'towing' capabilities, as well as a number of minor enhancements to our Heavy Lancers. I attempted to get them to tweak the engines, but you know, refused as usual with the Venture's slowly phasing us out. The foreman also reported all refits to the Task Force are complete and all ships are fully loaded to the brim; we're all ready. "

" Right, let's go ahead and disconnect the mooring cables, Helm move us away from the berth and out into space, have the Task Force form up on us to RV with the CDA forces."

" Copy, disconnecting mooring cables, activating thrusters and maneuvering away from the yards."

It took just a few moments for all the magnificent warships in their olive green paint to rise up and away from the massive yards which continued to slave away, despite the new war footing. " Task Force has formed, CDA units are RVing now sir. Ready for FTL jump on your orders."

" Engage. "

[Dead Snow]

Slipspace;
Unknown location;
43 hours until arrival;

The BattleGroups silently pondered their way through slipspace, bypassing entire systems that wouldn't even know they were close; just on another dimensional plane. It had only been a few short hours since the war fleet left Prosperan Space, but to the crews it seemed like an eternity. They were painfully aware of the impending doom, and were screaming their way into the fire. During the journey the ships night cycle had been activated, the command bridge was dark; save for a flickeing candle. The entire fleets commander, Admiral Rosewood sat in his captains chair; it was comfortable, but he knew it wouldn't last long. The last ship he captained found itself careening down to a planets surface, engulfed in fire. He shuddered at the thought, even though many moons had risen and fallen; he still couldn't forget the comrades he signed off on. And here he was, the bitter irony made him chuckle as he watched a holoscreen flicker into life, on it was a map (a basic one at that, they had very little information to go on). He watched as many green targets materialised on the screen, a far way off from he besieged system.
"Making battle plans without me?" His second-in-command's, Jort Huged, voice startled Rosewood, "Fuck! Can't we have a little discretion around here?" The 30-something man just laughed as he sat next to Rosewood, leaned forward and pointed to the green targets, "If we land some distance out, we can then probe the system and fortify our holding location? Instead of jumping in guns blazing, we don't know the enemy's capabilities yet." The admiral pondered these ideas, murmuring to himself, as he usually does. "You've got a point, inform the fleet of the new holding position. When do get there, I want that system swarmed. And anything with codes we don't recognize, are fair targets." The man run his hand through his cropped black hair, a tattoo of roman numerals adorned his scalp, just above his right ear. The numbers read 13, unlucky for some, but to him it was just his units number. Most starship captains served in the marines prior to naval service.
"If we secure the system, I then want boots on the ground and bring this ground war to them. Hand to hand if we have to. Hopefully they will have occupied an urban locale. I'd be interested in an orbital bombardment prior as well, soften these nuts up." Jort looked up, "Civilians sir? Also, we should confirm actions with our allies." Rosewood rubbed his upper arm, the sinewy scar tissue pulling on his healthy skin. "I sure doubt that there will be many civilians left. We'll let High Command deal with them, we secure our front and then hopefully link up with the rest." Jort wondered who else would be coming to this party, "Word is that The Terran Alliance and Bentusi forces have also been deployed." Rosewood eyed Jort, "Terrans eh? If those cruisers are anything to go by, I'm glad we have them on our side. Those missile carriers are a beauty. With them, hopefully we can dominant the battlefield."

---

<We now take you live to The Prosperan Local System News>

"Good morning, I'm Abney Brehuc for PLSN. Today's top news is that protests and some minor unrest has unfolded around Thalr Square last night in response to military action with Thelzan Space. These protests started peacefully last night with a camp constructed out side the Administration Hall in Thalr Square. Police services were present to keep the peace but this just exacerbated the situation with makeshift missiles being fired upon police. Police responded with tear gas and water cannons. There had been ongoing street battles with police through the night, but these have now subsided. Initial reports say that at least 23 people have been arrested and 45 more given cautions." The camera panned out from the women's alabaster face, revealing her deep red hair; pulled up in a loose bunch. Behind her a small holoscreen showed helicopter footage from riots during the evening, a car is seen upturned and on fire. Abney flicked a loose truss of hair from her face, "Military forces have been travelling through the night on their way to defend a besieged ally of The Galactic Economic and Security Organization. It is now undetstood that forces from The Terran Alliance and Bentus have been pledged to the Thelzan Front. Our own government has pledged it's support until the Thelzan's are able to defend and patrol their borders under their own volition. This campaign is expected to take many months. A fleet of humanitarian aid has left Rheddyn this morning and is expected to arrive within the next few days. Word from the Gomorrah System says that naval vessel production has gone into overdrive, with older model ships being produced for the war effort. We, as of yet, still have no word on how the campaign is proceeding." Abney paused as she cleared her throats and flicked to a different page on her dataslate, "In other news.... "

[Nyte]

---

Heredor Lunar Shipyards
Interstellar Empire of Nyte
0200 Hours

---

Conrad Curze looked out upon the expanse of the Heredor Shipyards from within a darkened chamber located deep within the bowels of its immense superstructure; located within the mostly hollowed out moon Heredor; Nyte's single angel satellite. Outside of the floor to ceiling view port, the immense spherical expance stretched onwards for hundreds of miles, broken-up only by thousands of miles of scaffolding bristling with heavy construction machinery, and dozens upon dozens of ships in varying stages of construction, refit, or repair; their ugly grey forms glistening dully under the high-intensity lighting spread liberally on and around the many scaffolds, although even with these lights much of the expanse was still wreathed in shadows; not that this mattered much to the Nyteborne who had no problem seeing in the dark.

From deeper within the darkened chamber, one of the many shadows detached itself from the wall and moved forwards to join the Emperor at the view port. As the figure came closer, it coalesced into a large, ornately armored figure wearing onyx colored power armor. Stepping up beside the Emperor, the figure reached up and slowly removed its skull-faced helm. The man that was revealed was ghostly pale, with a fine stubble of silvery-white hair upon his head. He was not a handsome man, and likely never had been; even without the network of scars that criss-crossed his worn, gaunt face.

Looking out at the shipyards for a few moments more, the man broke the silence that had otherwise consumed the chamber as he tilted his head and addresses the Emperor. "It is an amazing sight lord, but what, if I may ask, draws your gaze so?" ...For a moment there was silence once more until at last Curze looked away from the shipyards, and turning to face the man he replied; his voice hoarse and rasping as if from disuse. "Hmph... Amazing Markus?' Curze chuckled, although there was clearly not a single hint of humor in it. "Do you know what I see when I gaze out this window Markus? ...Death, Markus, all I see is death, stretched onwards as far as the eye can see" Curze finished with a hiss before turning back once more to gaze out the view port.

For a short while it was silent once more until suddenly Curze turned and started walking away. "Walk with me Markus" he commanded as he drew closer to the door which slid into a recession in the wall with a slight swish...

---

Heredor Lunar Shipyards
Interstellar Empire of Nyte
Several Hours Later

---

It was a nondescript hallway; one of perhaps a million similar hallways carved into the very rock of Heredor itself. Curze, Markus, and the shadows that were the rest of Curzes' honor guard made their way steadily down the hallway towards a figure leaning casually upon an ornate walking stick. The man appeared elderly with a worn, somewhat wrinkled face bisected by a single diagonal scar that stretched from just over his left eye to the right side of his jaw. At Curzes' approach the man turned, his shoulder length silvery hair swaying at the speed of the movement. Ice blue eyes; faintly glowing in the gloom glowered accusingly at the Emperor as the man spoke. "You know, I was just starting to enjoy my retirement, and then you had to go and reactivate my commission and order me up here... There better be a damned good reason for this shit... I'm getting too old to be galavanting about half way across of the empire."

Curze simply chuckled before replying as he came to stand next to the old man. "Indeed I do Lucian, indeed I do. However, we're still missing one last member of this little reunion, however I do believe that would be him there" Curze finished, pointing down the hallway. Both men turned to look at the figure steadily making its way closer, both for their own seperate reasons saddened by the sight of what had become of the man who had at one time been one of, if not the finest soldier in the history of the empire. "Victor? ...Victor Morrow" the old man asked, stunned at the sight of what his old comrade had become, or perhaps moreso at the fact that he was even alive still.

The man; Victor Morrow, formerly a Nytelord Sergeant, appeared quite monstrous; and far more a machine than a man, and so the shock was not surprising to him. He grinned mirthlessly, the action pulling at the scar tissue that now encompassed most of his once handsome, roguish face as he turned his one remaining eye upon the old man; the other eye, lost long ago to a massive, furred razorfiend, was covered in a simple looking, nondescript black eyepatch. Limping heavily, Victor joined Lucien and the Emperor, the unnaturally loud wheezing noise of a pair of artificial mechanical lungs added background noise to his reply. "Lucian Krevash" he wheezed... "How have you been you old bastard?" He rasped out bitterly... "You seem shocked, why however, I don't know... The last we saw of eachother, I was a mutilated wreck; one who should have died, and you... Well, you were off to your brand new command with a shiny promotion and a few more medals for your chest..."

Before Lucien could reply, Curze cut in. "Enough, I called both of you here for a reason... Come" he said as he began to walk once more. "And stop making it seem worse than it actually is Sergeant, we both know, you and I, that your not nearly as disabled as you like make yourself out to be." With that they moved on at a steady pace, walking silently until finally, abruptly, Curze stopped them with a raised hand. "We're here" he said as he turned and pointed out a nearby view port. Outside, its ugly, predatory grey form looming heavily over the group, was an Ark Class Battlecarrier. Upon the titanic vessels flank, in bold, slightly slanted white lettering was a single word: Scylla...

"The Scylla?" Lucien stared out the view port, confused, and just a little bit stunned... "I thought they retired the old bitch... Hell, she's even older than I am."

Morrow simply chuckled in amusement at the older mans discomfort, not even paying any attention to the massive ship just outside the window.

"And you'd be right" Curze replied. "She WAS retired, but as with both you and Morrow, she's been reactivated... Although she's had a bit more time to reacquant herself with military life." Turning away from the ship, the Emperor turned to face both men. "A... Situation has arisen, one that requires handling by people who have experience in working both with, and against alien forces..."

Curze began to pace slowly about the hallway as he continued. "While it has not yet been made known to the public, as of five days ago, we are in a state of open warfare with a foreign power." Curze sighed as he continued. "Lucien, you're one of the few ship commanders still alive who has experience in working with alien races, and I feel that we will need that experience... THAT is why I reactivated your commission. The Scylla was originally intended to be the solution for a VERY different problem, but I do believe she'd be better put to use as your flagship."

Turning to face Morrow, Curze continued. "As for you Sergeant, the Scylla has need of a commander for its compliment of Nytelords, and while you may be laboring under the belief that you are no longer capable of being a soldier, I disagree... So you may consider this to be your wake-up call." Curze chuckled at the sour look that appeared on Morrows face as he said this.

"The both of you will find further orders detailing the mission aboard the Scylla. You'll find that your old command codes will work once more, and they'll allow you to activate the sealed orders I've left for you both... You have two days to familiarize yourselves with your orders, the ship, and your new crew, after which, you'll rondezvous with the 11th fleet, along with both task forces 3 and 17. From there you'll make for the edges of Thelzan space where you'll hopefully meet up with our allies in this war; a race calling themselves the Raw'Hein." With that, Curze began to walk away, only to pause for a moment. "Good luck, and good hunting... To the both of you."

---

The Nostromo System
The Far Side of Heredor
Two Days Later

---

Few people, including the majority of those within the military where aware of the two hundred and seventy-three ships gathered in orbit on the far side of Heredor. Gathered covertly from all corners of the Interstellar Empire, these ships had made their way swiftly, and quietly back home to the Nostromo system, only to be quickly resupplied and made ready to fight a war; the first real war for the empire in nearly a century. Their preparations complete, the ships quickly assumed formation, and for a moment, they simply seemed to blur as if distorted by some unseen force, until with several hundred synchronized flashes and a massive discharge of energy, they were simply gone...

Several hours later, the news would finally be broken to the people of the empire... Once more, after decades of relative peace, there was WAR!

The 11th Fleet:
Ark Class Battlecarriers - 9
Mortis Class Dreadnaught - 4
Venator Class Grand Cruisers - 36
Charon Class Frigates - 60
Viator Class Troop Transports - 18
Styx Class Bombardment Ship - 10
Savior Class Multi-Purpose Support Ships (misc. types) - 22

Task Force 3:
Ark Class Battlecarriers - 3
Mortis Class Dreadnaught - 2
Venator Class Grand Cruisers - 12
Charon Class Frigates - 20
Viator Class Troop Transports - 6
Styx Class Bombardment Ship - 4
Savior Class Multi-Purpose Support Ships (misc. types) - 10

Task Force 17:
Ark Class Battlecarriers - 3
Mortis Class Dreadnaught - 2
Venator Class Grand Cruisers - 12
Charon Class Frigates - 20
Viator Class Troop Transports - 6
Styx Class Bombardment Ship - 4
Savior Class Multi-Purpose Support Ships (misc. types) - 10

[Dead Snow]

Prosperan Space;
Rheyddn;
Prosperan Star Command;

There was a sombre atmosphere around the war room, it was a decision not taken lightly. To commit that many ships and souls to a conflict on the other side of the galaxy; especially when there wasn't any threat to Dead Snow herself. It had become a matter of pride. Dead Snow will show GESO, and the Universe, what they were capable of. The war room had just seen the breakdown of Dead Snow's involvement in the Thelzan Crisis; the remaining men, five of them, were talking amongst themselves as they awaited their transport to The Terran Alliance. "We must dominant and raze the enemies. This isn't just for the Thelzan people, it's our first foray into the galaxy. We must strike fear into the galaxy." A heavily decorated, and bearded, veteran of many conflicts made his opinion clear. Darka Hudsin was an admiral of the civil war, now overall commander of the Thelzan Crisis. He sported a dark brown full beard, trimmed neatly. His eyes were sunken, with bags under them, his faded blue pupils had seen a lot of horror. Not that that affected him, he was one cold hearted bastard. "I expect you to follow full orders from me, even if they clash with allied orders. I will not curtail our actions because of some jumped up beurocracy." An alarm interuppted him, followed by an announcement, All personnel to Docking Bay 6x, I repeat.... The five men looked to the large rectangular window to their rights, a massive ship gearing it's engines up; a loud rumbling echoed through the office. "Looks like our bus is here lads." With that the five men left the room and made their way to the ship...

---

The Terran Alliance;
Union City;
Supreme Allied Headquarters;

The military style gunship revved over the Terran countryside, tree peaks far below the transport. Union City's unique skyline appeared over the horizon, the impossibly tall skyscrapers stretching for the sun. Even though it was military, the gunship had all of it's munitions removed - who wants an accident a mile above a heavily populated city. The transport veered right, diving down to land at the airport..

As the five men entered the room, they were greeted with the sight of two other men paitently waiting for other commanders to arrive, "Good afternoon gentlemen, looks like we got a problem on our hands."