A Dragon Once

[The St Templar Banking Union]

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A Dragon Once



“The cycle of life is the same thing as the cycle of death, only seen from an optimist's view.”
- The Mantra of the Dragon

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IC

In Character Thread

OOC Thread

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Co-OPs:
Olimpiada
Ella2 6

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Morimpa


The Dominion of Black Sun
Tonina
Ponyi Meridia
Royal Frankia

Gel'durk


Ella2 6
New Roman Empire
Pordlandia
Interstellar Federation
Houseidou

Zerga


Olimpiada

Inactive


The Fedral Union
The Lost Sole
Kendor
Nova Arcadia Domini
Germanischen Staaten

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Rastho Prime
New Vulcan

Suppressing rebellions was no easy task, as the Morimpans found out. Their tendency for swimming and aquatic lifestyle made land combat extremely difficult, even with the help of voidsuits. It didn't help that the barbarians were so fierce in resistance. A quick glance at any given battlefield would likely show extremely high Morimpan casualties regardless of the outcome of the battle itself. Furthermore, the continued resistance of this system would make advancing into Perseus almost impossible with the rebels constantly poking their supply lines.

There was only one thing left to do now. The massive Morimpan fleet lined themselves above the Vulcan orbit and poised their mass drivers to strike the planet surface. By the end of the day, the planet would likely be no more than a churning ball of shattered crust and molten magma. Their polished grey hulls, sleek and study against the cosmic winds lined the orbit of New Vulcan. The freshly painted azure stripes that marked the affiliation of their craft glistened in the sunlight.

The planet below turned slowly on its axis. The grave of a thousand Morimpan warriors. It would be a shame to destroy the bodies of the Remembered which they had not yet extracted from the tainted grounds. Thousands of men and women who died for the glory of the Empire, crucified in their own blood and the blood of their comrades. As unfortunate as it is, the course of action must be followed swiftly. Any further delay would allow the primitives of the Galaxy to muster their forces and bring them to bear upon the weakened empire.

Admiral Kyv'Tamara Epop was in charge of the operation to cleanse the system of the inferiors. She spoke now, commanding the steel legions from her battle throne aboard the UMRVS Inglorious Blade, "Is the fleet in position?"

"Yes ma'am," came the metallic reply of the ship's AI, a hologram of its avatar summoning itself onto the command console. "All ships are in position and ready to fire on command."

"Pass my orders down," Kyv'Tamara continued, "Have all ships stand by to fire on my shot. Yarly."

"As you wish, Ma'am." The hologram gave a bow before it disappeared from the projector.

Many parts of Morimpan ships are automated, from the core essentials to weapons to communications. Most things are handled by a network of AIs that respond to a central AI at the disposal of the captain of the vessel. Now the robotic segments of the craft churned away, hidden beneath the steel plating of the hull. A burst of small corrective thrusts pointed the nose of the vessel towards the larger of visible continents.

"Fire Control, you may fire at will," The Morimpan admiral declared.

The fish acknowledge the order, "Tube 3, Tube 4, fire when ready." There was a slight pause before two sleek tungsten rods were catapulted out of the firing tubes at the planet. The pair of grey rods hurtled towards the planet, burning with long bright tails upon contact with the atmosphere. They were intercepted by multiple pinpoints of light followed by two successive explosions.

"Ma'am, they're intercepting our rods with their laser defence systems."

But the other Morimpan ships have already begun unleashing their mass slugs on the planet. Explosions filled the atmosphere, creating a deadly fireworks show. However, as much as they may try, the tungsten slugs eventually broke through their defences, overwhelming the rebel's systems by sheer number. Massive clouds of dust began to permeate the atmosphere as the Morimpan strikes hit their targets. Already, in the space of a few minutes, the atmosphere was saturated with dust and ash near the equator.

[Ella2 6]

Orbit of New Vulcan
Rastho Prime Star System

"Ma'am. We're picking up several signatures dropping out of FTL," the AI aboard the Inglorious Blade reported, displaying the data on the ship's main screen. The bridge crew stopped working and all turned to look at the blinking lights on a three-dimensional hologram of real space. The water about them was still for a while but the silence was interrupted when the clock ticked over for lunch. Pockets at the workstations of the Morimpae opened and released bits of preserved meat into the water around them.

"Right on time," Kyv'Tamara chuckled, "we'll have popcorn while we watch this light show. Order all ships to hold fire and turn about. We have guests to greet."

A patch of space just outside the system rippled as Ellian starships dropped out of FTL, their engines once more taking over for regular sailing. Blue flame trailed behind their angular white hulls and the peeling golden strips on their prowl greeted the massive Morimpan fleet. "We're receiving an incoming transmission from the unidentified fleet."

ESS Existential Dread
To: Foreign Fleet
Encryption: Null

This is Commodore Sagen speaking on behalf of the Starsailor's Dominion. You have currently entered the Dominion's Outer Frontier region and are infringing upon protected neutral space. We demand that you cease and desist all hostile activity in this sector and surrender your forces. We are giving you a grace time of five minutes or we will open fire.

The transmission was crude and lacking in a three-dimensional image the hologram projector could project. The language was also foreign, but a quick calculation using the extensive Codex carried aboard the vessel was able to rapidly translate the message from the historic base of the languages in the sector during the glorious ages of the Morimpan empire. The crew burst into bouts of laughter upon the conclusion of the transmission.

Kyv'Tamara reached out and snatched a small bite of ration meat that was floating about in her peripheral vision and placed it in her mouth. After chewing the morsel, she replied to the message with equal tartness. "I'll be generous with you this time, Ellian," She began, spitting out the name of the race with disgust, "I'll give you twenty seconds to turn around and run before I start shooting. Consider it as me giving you a few more days to live as a free man. You can thank me after we've conquered your waters."

The Morimpan transmission was a direct link to the receiver, as opposed to a recorded message that was sent afterwards. The translation was already done for the Ellians on the transmitting end, resulting in a high-quality real-time reply which covered the light minutes in a mere fraction of a second. "In fact, Inferior, I bet you're marvelling at our technology as I speak. Now scurry along. I've already started counting."

The fact that the monstrous talking fish was right made Commodore Sagen even more disturbed than previously. He turned to his crew now, many of them horrified, some concerned, all of them clenching their teeth as the dreaded sea monster's crisp, shrill voice counted upwards from seven. He met their eyes and somehow knew they would make their graves in the mangled wreckage of their beloved ship today.

"Eight... Nine... Ten..."

Sagen gathered his wits about him, turning back towards the armada. "Gentlemen," He began, his words a croak, his throat dried. He cleared his throat and began once more. "Gentlemen, I'm sorry..." He let the words hang for another two precious seconds. "Comm's, order the Xeno Spines Make Great Xylophones to turn back and inform High Command of this development. All other units, attack formation." The communications officer scrambled to get the order out to the other ships as the crew prepared themselves for combat. The interior of the vessel was bathed in orange light and an arousing siren rang throughout.

"Seventeen... Eighteen..."

"O’er the gelid waves of galactic streams," One of the clones that acted as the fire control officer for the ship's missile tubes began singing. His fellow fire control officers took up the chorus, their voices rose above the alarm for a brief moment. But that brief moment was enough for the Commodore to recognise the song; Passage Galaxy, the war march of the Ellian Starforce. The tune was unmistakable. He smiled and summoned the ship's AI.

"Put on Passage Galaxy on the shipwide audio, please Hana," he requested as politely as he could.

"But of course," Hana replied, then she laughed heartily, her avatar smiling, "I don't think I've heard you say please before, Commodore."

"First time for everything," He joked and turned his attention back to the window. The wailing siren was drowned out by trumpets, drums and vocals as the entire ship was filled with the song which united the hearts of all Ellians, both human and clone. "Helm, bring us in range."

"Aye, aye, Sir!" The clone pilot agreed, "Reckon we can make it till the end of the soundtrack, Sir?"

"Let's hope we do, Scrapper," Sagen answered, strapping himself into his command chair. "Full steam ahead."

The Existential Dread turned slightly as it advanced in an attempt to throw off the Morimpan's targeting. The other vessels in the flotilla followed in a loose formation, all except the Xeno Spines Make Great Xylophones which was already engaging its FTL drives, smoke billowing out of its belly from the first volley of kinetic rods. Before it left, it broadcasted one last message to the friendly ships in the system. "It's been an honour, my friends." A slug glanced off the Existential Dread's hull plating, having been robbed of its kinetic energy by the energy shields encircling the craft.

"We're in range, Sir."

The powerful plasma cannons aboard the Existential Dread fired their first volley into the dense wall of advancing Morimpan ships. Another slug struck and tore a massive hole in the bow, the weakened shield no longer able to slow it to safe impact speeds. The Xavier-class ships began to overtake the larger vessel, their rapidly firing cannons also ablaze. Three missiles were flung out of the spinal tube aboard the Audacity-class their engines engaging when they left the pipe.

We’ve left the blue Earth behind us
Far beyond the trails of cosmic wakes,

The Xavier to their starboard listed onto its side before its electronics burst into a shower of sparks. As the ship listed, Sagen saw the massive gash that tore into the side of the craft. The blue engine flames faded into darkness and a moment later, the crippled vessel exploded, it power core suffering from meltdown. The light of the explosion lit the bridge of the Existential Dread brighter than the artificial lighting in the ceiling ever could. Sharpnel clattered against the steel plating and glass windows.

Another Xavier went down as a slug dragged itself through the spine of the ship. The splintered wreck of the third and final Xavier collided with the Audacity-class, leaving it's secondary bridge in ruins. With the databanks destroyed, the AI, Hana, fizzled out of existence in the Commodore's lap, so as to speak. But the song continued to play relentlessly. The crew cheered as one of the Mormipan cruisers exploded into a ball of flame, the force of the blast sent the ships around it spinning wildly. Something smashed into the reinforced glass windows before Sagen's eyes. Darkness. One of the ships audio speakers survived the slug's passing and spun out into the void. Through the sudden static that engulfed that device came few brave words.

We are Pilots
We are Pilots of the Cosmos.

[Pordlandia]

von Begin's Express
Häzhel-nam Koch type rift cruiser VRZ Y-739

This is a good mix, Kuroq Pataaq notes. He drinks from a large jug filled to the brim with frothy liquid and grins warmly. Not too sweet.

Off to the side the aid nod nods in approval. He's been perfecting his nog brewing, but Pataaq can be so... Particular. He bows respectfully to the commander of the Y-739. Glad you like it, DritteJloknam, he says.

Pataaq waves the Pord off. That will be all for now, he tells him.

The aid bows again. Without another word he makes his way off of the bridge, no doubt to some other compartment to tend to some other very important business. Pataaq takes little notice of the aid's exit. His attention is focused on his station and his large jug of nog. He raises it once more to his lips and gulps a few times. The nog is good.

Sensors, anything of note?

Nothing in particular, nam-DritteJloknam.

Give us another active Natyl scan of the sector - these stars... Here and then let's bring the boat about and head into the next quadrant.

Tasi, the orders are accepted, tasinehdao, comes the echo.

For a brief fleeting instant the passive Mylchar Arrays are forsaken in favour of deep penetrating Natyl scans. The various systems in the area are scanned and the information is shunted into the various computerized systems onboard the rift cruiser. The sensors operator looks over the displays and results...

Nothing out of the ordinary, nam-DritteJloknam.

Pataaq nods. Alright, bring us up to full sublight. Take us out of here.

Tasi, engaging full sublights, tasinehdao!

In the void the ship begins to pick up speed. The rift is shunted aside as she powers through the sickly realm; atop her form the myriad funnels once more pour grand tracks of particulates and energies into the terrible domain but it seems that, with her hull glowing in.... Agreement, her speed is not from her own reactors and thrusters but from the rift's own courtesy. Perhaps exaggeration, but then again...

We are at maximum sublight, nam-DritteJloknam.

nam-Knachen, Pataaq replies.

He watches the sensors as star systems zoom past. The stars, the planets, the voids, they are all... Familiar. He stretches in his chair and drinks from his jug. Backwaters tend to be boring, but there is little that can be done about that. von Begin, after all, has his reasons for bothering with the Orion Arm. What those might be... Pataaq drinks once more from his jug.

We have two weeks' patrol in this upcoming sector, Pataaq says. Bring our speed down to half full.

Tasi, comes a reply, tasinehdao! Engaging sublights at half full, it is confirmed.

The vessel comes to a slower pace in the rift gradually. Before long it is at an acceptable surveillance velocity relative to real space and the crew funnels higher levels of power back into the Mylchar Arrays. Pataaq goes to take a long drink from his jug only to find that he has reached its end. He pushes it to the side.

nam-DritteJloknam... We are picking up multiple contacts.

Contacts? Pataaq questions. Nature?

It appears to be a fleet, nam-DritteJloknam.

Pataaq shrugs. Fleets exist. The void is a dangerous place. But still... It might be something. He waves the sensors operator on but the Pord does not see Pataaq's motioning. Regardless, the operator continues:

Seems that they are bombarding this small world here, the sensors operator notes. He brings up the displays to the center of the bridge and they are exploded for all to see.

They are bombarding it? Pataaq questions.

Tasi, sensors confirms.

Pataaq frowns. A quick glance at the map reveals why: the system is dangerously close to GESO jurisdiction. Bring us to a halt then drop anchors.

Tasi, tasinehdao! Coming to a halt! Dropping anchors!

Once more the rift cruiser adjusts itself within the realm. This time though she comes to a full halt - an action considerably different from the high c-frac cruising she was engaged in previously. Within what seems like no time at all, the vessel is brought to a standstill and only the subtle ebb and flow of the rift is left almost as if reminder to not become too comfortable. The rift accepts, no, welcomes the Chürzhna, but only just. Beneath their sheaths of protection the ships of the High Hunter's Navy are but wood and metal - mere fodder before the awesome might of the rift.

Comms, secure me a line with von Begin, Pataaq barks.

The communications officer questions: von Begin, DritteJloknam?

Tasi, he replies.

For the rift cruisers of the High Hunter's Navy, the chain of command is much more simple. The patrol and rift fleets are arranged loosely but all answer directly to Admiral Tunods von Begin himself. Of course, that he personally requested such contingents be attached to his fleet and operate within the Milky Way as well also simplifies matters... The GESO trade lands need shepherding (ostensibly why his fleet, the Nalydian 8th Fleet "Seekers of Taial" was sent to and currently stationed out of Sol), and it is his job to secure them. But also Nalydian interests in the galaxy do need to be protected. They aren't much, but they do still exist.

We are securing a higher-level connection with von Begin, nam-DritteJloknam, the communications officer chimes in.

A few minutes pass before von Begin's hologram flickers to life before the members of the bridge crew. They salute the VRZ Admiral and he returns their gesture. Kuroq Pataaq is the first to speak up:

Admiral von Begin, a pleasure. DritteJloknam Kuroq Pataaq of the VRZ Y-739. Pataaq stops briefly to ensure von Begin can hear him. After a coaxing nod he continues: We have come across a potentially major threat not far from GESO jurisdiction within the Orion Arm, he says.

von Begin is silent. He nods slowly and chews his pipe. What's the situation there?

One side appears to be slagging the surface, Admiral, Pataaq says.

von Begin shakes his head slowly - almost as if out of irritation. Keep the lanes clear, but proceed as you see fit, the Admiral replies.

Kuroq Pataaq salutes. Hozhna! he declares.

With that von Begin returns Pataaq's salute. The meeting was short, but von Begin much prefers to keep such things this way. The galaxy is too large for him to be spending inordinate amounts of time on every trivial matter, even in cases such as this.

[The Dominion of Black Sun]

Dominion Deep-Space Frontier Fleet, DES. IEDUX-9870-0473.IV
The Threadway, en route to E.SD-C (ESC) system,
The 'Aeternium', a Volhynia-Class Frontier Command Vessel

The command spire was silent, hushed by the coming shudders of the void, a telltale sign that the present journey would soon be ending. Quiet conversation was carried amidst the crew, be it related to their current duties or otherwise - all were somewhat preoccupied with the current situation, but their concerns were uniformed and misguided. After all, none could more concerned than the Lord-Admiral himself, for it was his own future that now stood in a most precarious position.

Jaymes Albrekt Tullius was a younger gentleman for his rank and position, but he held all the same respect from his peers as any other man in command of a fleet of such scale and prowess. Up until recent, he'd enjoyed a long career along the innermost stretches of the Grand Frontier, patrolling the tame dark, smashing the occasional revolt here and there and calling it a day. That was then, but his most recent brush with one of IUDEX Deployments most reputable characters had sent him spinning out to the Frontier's razor edge. The events as they had transpired mattered little now - he now pressed toward the vast beyond, far and away from the protection of the Storm Fleets.

It would be folly to say, however, that he knew fear. Not once did the Lord Admiral have fear in his current predicament - rather, he had an overwhelming sense of unease. Plunged into the vast and inky depths of infinite space, sent to assess a world known only in a most rudimentary way, his agitation was justified.

The golden rays of forbidden sunlight gleaming off the glittering ornamentation of the grand command spire began to waver and fade. Chandeliers rocked, staff-servants lost balance of their trays, and glasses clinked and wobbled as the placid golden void of the Threadway began to tear away, darkness swallowing all. Within moments, they were deposited within but a few hundred thousand kilometers off from the world they were sent to investigate. What they found was nothing close to previous expectation.

Darkened and smokey, this was not the world Tullius had any intention of finding. Naturally, this initial shock was not the last surprise to come.

"Unidentified Xeno Structures Detected. Reclassification: Unidentified Xeno Starships Detected. High-Energy Kinetic Impacts Detected on EU-24321, Biospeheric Conditions Degrading Rapidly."

The sharp, artificial tones of the Aeternium's Autonomous Mind summarized the rolling data-feeds incoming from the fleet's techships well - the planet was being bombarded. Flash scans suggest a low probability of survival for any doomed inhabitants of the planet before them, but any cause for concern was dismissed by the simple fact that these were mere xeno subspecies. If one killed the other out, it was more than likely for the betterment of all - foremost the Dominion.

Standard protocol would be to lay in wait, and dispatch the resident xeno fleet when the circumstances were most advantageous, but Tullius knew that this particular fringe was seeing a great deal of unrest. Perhaps this was the cause? The Lord-Admiral reviewed logs involving previous engagements in this sector, showing that resident species were of a particularly resistant sort - up until recent. The hunch Tullius was running with was that the peculiar force before them were related to the same ones upheaving the troublesome races that slowed the Dominion's progress in this region.

It was a circumstance the Dominion wasn't unfamiliar with - an old policy of using one lesser species against others, putting a foot in the door towards inevitable integration. Were Tullius responsible for beginning such a chain of events, his good name would be cleared double times over - he would certainly make a figure of himself.

Before he could allow pride to overtake him, the Lord-Admiral reminded himself all of this rested on a mere article of suspicion - an inkling that could only be satisfied by striking the match of diplomacy. A transmission was dispatched, an easily translated package of data that would serve only as an introductory object - he was testing the waters.

Code: Select all

Presiding Xeno Forces,

Greetings and fair tidings, this is Lord-Admiral J.A. Tullius of the D.S.F.V. Aeternium. I am your local representative from the Greater Dominion of Black Sun, and am thus obliged to procure an explanation on the nature of the activities ongoing here, and of course, your identity and purpose here.

A sufficient response is necessary as soon as can be possibly achieved.

Regards,
Lord-Admiral J.A. Tullius, D.S.F. Fleet, DES. IEDUX-9870-0473.IV

Tullius sipped at his tea, staring at the smoldering world with great anticipation. The D.S.F Fleet yet still remained in obscurity, but their presence would be known.

[The St Templar Banking Union]

Rastho Prime
New Vulcan

Kyv'Tamara could only say that the daring charge was impressive. No more and no less. She respected their courage, she really did. Had the situation been reversed, she would have done the exact same thing. The teachings and the way of the Kyven Clan allowed her to appreciate honour and courage in battle. From when she was a hatchling, she was taught the art of warfare like no other clan could teach their young. The courage and strength of a true warrior were drilling into her mind from as far as she could remember. And of course the Warrior Code. The war sabre which rested on her workstation was a constant reminder of that. So far, the Ellians have charged fearlessly into the jaws of Death and they had lost a Morimpan vessel. That was strength enough for Kyv'Tamara, considering their obsolete technologies.

"The Inferiors have heart, I'll give them that," Kyv'Tamara commented, putting the last morsel of food into her mouth, "I'd like to say we've finally found ourselves a worthy opponent had their technology not been so backwards."

"I respectfully disagree, Admiral Kyv'Epop," The helmsmen of the Inglorious Blade, Ger'Angela, interjected, "There is not match for the Morimpan Empire's might. We crushed those worms so easily that I doubt their entire navy could stand up to a single fleet of ours."

"Prestigious Ger'Angela, I would not be so rash in saying that," Vel'Sahara advised, "Orion is but small, and Rastho Prime smaller. It may seem that our neighbourhood is quiet but we have yet to see everything the Galaxy has to offer."

Ger'Angela snorted and raised his gills as a sign that he would stand his ground ferociously. "You forget, Veldorian, that the Morimpan Empi-" Whatever the intelligence officer may have forgotten was left to be unknown as Ger'Angela was cut off by the beeping of the communications channel. Kyv'Tamara waved for the ship AI to patch the message through to the main screen. The machine complied, displaying the message on the curved screen and adjusted screen opacity to maximum.

Code: Select all

Presiding Xeno Forces,

Greetings and fair tidings, this is Lord-Admiral J.A. Tullius of the D.S.F.V. Aeternium. I am your local representative from the Greater Dominion of Black Sun, and am thus obliged to procure an explanation on the nature of the activities ongoing here, and of course, your identity and purpose here.

A sufficient response is necessary as soon as can be possibly achieved.

Regards,
Lord-Admiral J.A. Tullius, D.S.F. Fleet, DES. IEDUX-9870-0473.IV

Kyv'Tamara frowned as she saw the plain text message. It was even more underwhelming than the Ellian's. A quick translation was performed and the page was translated to Morimpan. She read the transmission quickly, her frown deepening. "Comms, get us a direct link," she ordered. The transmission was retraced and a direct communications link was established between the two ships.

"Look here, Sapien," She began, "I do not need to answer you. But in the interest of saving me the valuable time of removing you from the system, I will tell you what you seek to know. I am Admiral Kyv'Tamara Epop of the New United Morimpan Republics. I am the leader of this mighty fleet you see before you. We are here to stamp out inferior the races that are currently tainting this system with their presence. And you are in my way. Do not interfere else be ground to stardust in similar fashion to those four wrecks." She jerked a bony finger in the direction of the ruined Ellian starships. "This is your only warning."

With that ultimatum sent, Kyv'Tamara hoped that these strangers would leave them in peace. She had no intention of provoking another fight but she was more than prepared to carry out her threat. Her tone in the message ought to have made that clear. If these strangers were willing to hang around but leave them be then Kyv'Tamara could also accept that. She had no qualm with this race, considering that the Empire would have to go out of their way to purge them. And as before, her tone was more or less indicative of that as well.

[The Dominion of Black Sun]

Dominion Deep-Space Frontier Fleet, DES. IEDUX-9870-0473.IV
E.SD-IC (ESC) system, 405,000 kilometers from EU-24321
The 'Aeternium', a Volhynia-Class Frontier Command Vessel

The visual feed was tenuous at best, but the Xeno creature before him conveyed their message relatively intact enough for Tullius to understand. It took but a few short moments for the techships to grab a hold of the line and begin to synchronize to this foreign fleet's communications network, quality improving gradually with their efforts. Mid-way through the Xeno's furor, he could observe with clarity the perfect abomination that stood before him, speaking knives and daggers no less. A textual deciphering of their native tongue was provided for Tullius to understand the meaning of such vulgar mouthings and basal bodily gestures, smiling and nodding sans any of the disgust and hatred that roiled within.

On screen, he arose from his command throne, gently placing the small golden teacup he held so delicately in his hand down with a quiet 'clink. An autonomous servant swiftly came along, replacing the near-empty cup with a full one and vanishing off the border of the display. At the moment the Xeno Admiral ceased speaking, he nodded his head as if in understanding and agreement.

"Admiral, you gravely misunderstand my being here," Tullius spoke, a smile alighting his face as he gestured his hand toward the Xeno-Admiral, "Your kind and mine stand along a common thread - the only difference is in me, you see foe, but in you, I see friend." The view rotated, following after the Lord-Admiral as he approached the large forward view screen. The image of Kyv'Tamara vanished, as the visage of ruinous New Vulcan, suspended in the void, replaced them. The visual receiver observed as Tullius extended his hands out wide, facing the planet and exclaiming loudly, "Is it not beautiful?!" He wheeled around, facing the Xeno-Admiral once more with a gentle 'clap' of his hands together, "The good works you are doing here serve us no less than they do your own kind. These pitiable Xenos were as much an inconvenience to the Dominion as they are to your great Republic."

The Lord Admiral returned to his throne, adjusting his cuffs as he continued to speak, "If I am to grant a sense of brevity to my words, I am offering that the Dominion become an asset, rather than an obstacle, on your mission. Your great crusade is not over, and I above all wish to see it done, and done quite right." He paused but a moment, sipping lightly at the golden cup.

"Naturally, however," he began again, "If you do not seek our company here, I do suppose we can find kinship elsewhere nearby - what so ever that might intend for you, Admiral, I am afraid I couldn't say." The Admiral smiled, as he descended into the command throne once more, reclining into the massive seat and crossing his legs. He took another sip from the small glittering cup, staring forward as Kyv'Tamara re-manifested on the view screen before him.

The D.S.F. fleet remained in complete obscurity. The techships had masked them quite efficiently in the darkness of the void, but their proximity would make total invisibility nearly impossible. At very best, they were able to mask most of the important data, but all the basic information was out for these foreigners to engorge upon.

[Pordlandia]

Pataaq, Kalanok, and the Morimpan Question
Häzhel-nam Koch type rift cruiser VRZ Y-739

What a rather crude display, the communications officer notes. His attention has been taken by the back and forth between the Morimpan fleet and the newly arrived Ellians. Rapid cross-referencing with information concerning old Milky Way powers confirms has made it abundantly clear just who these people are. They are speaking an ancient tongue, the communications officer continues. Appears to be labeled as... Mürympskyan, DritteJloknam, once spoken in an empire by the same name.

You are able to translate it, though?

Tasi, I am, the communications officer confirms.

Pataaq nods.

Mylchar Arrays are detecting another FTL-exit signature, nam-DritteJloknam! Appears to be nothing major. We are seeing signatures for a couple dozen small warships.

Mask them, Pataaq orders.

Tasinehdao! Masking!

The communications officer interjects: They also appear to be making contact with the Mürympskyan fleet, DritteJloknam.

On-screen, then, Pataaq orders.

They do not appear to have secured direct lines, DritteJloknam. Let's see...

The communications officer works feverishly at picking up the loose ends of the attempted communication between the Mürympskyan forces and these newcomers. With some serious coaxing he manages to secure both lines passively - an impressive, albeit necessary, feat. Coming on-screen...

The first to come on-screen is but a text message. It raises a few eyebrows - the format is primitive, but in retrospect such things likely make sense for first contact. Yes, especially with lesser-known powers. The muted levels of intrigue, however, are rapidly snuffed once the main bulk of the conversation begins flowing in.

Admiral Kyv'Tamara Epop. Interesting. Pataaq leans forward and clasps his hands together; his chin rests slightly on the back of his hand and he inhales deeply. It appears we have run into quite the derisible character. Cut the lines we don't need to listen to any more of this tripe.

Tasi.

Sensors, are you done masking?

Tasinehdao! the sensors operator confirms. We do not appear to have much information concerning these vessels, DritteJloknam.

Pataaq nods. Odd, but not entirely unexpected. The universe is vast after all. This development complicates matters greatly, however. Now there are potentially two hostile parties working together just on the edge of GESO jurisdiction. Should things boil over... No, this will need to be nipped in the bud before it can bloom into a greater issue. Pataaq leans back into his chain and presses a button on the console. Moments later his aid appears before him and bows. Pataaq glances towards the empty jog of nog and nods. His aid, more than familiar with his mannerisms, nods in reply and takes the jug. With another bow he retires from the chamber to refill it with fresh drink.

Send this information back to von Begin, Pataaq orders.

The communications officer acquiesces. Moments later Pataaq's aid returns. The tall jug of nog has once more been filled and the butternut tint of the liquid can just be made out as it sloshes around. Pataaq thanks the aid for his service. With a thoughtful gaze towards the central displays, he drinks vast gulps from the jug before setting it back down. The jug clanks on the surface of the console and it is easy to discern that Pataaq has downed at least half of it in one go. His gaze drifts over to the communications officer and he notes he has nearly completed encryption. Pataaq can just about make out the screen the officer is working with and can see him send the data to von Begin. Good. With that done he speaks up once more:

Who is in the vicinity? Who do we have near? Once more, Pataaq.

The sensors operator brings up a galactic map. The myriad patrol quadrants are clearly labeled; Pataaq and the other bridge hands can clearly see the patrol areas of the other rift cruisers deployed in the Milky Way. These are not what concern Pataaq, however. von Begin's fleet is comprised of one-hundred and twenty-five brigades; the rift cruisers of each major sector can call upon the warships of at least one brigade, more than one in some cases. This of course assumes the issue at hand is significant and beyond the capabilities of the much smaller rift cruisers. Such cases naturally preclude ship-captains from calling in more rift cruisers - the big-gun warships are much more likely to see acceptable and timely results than hoards of Kornat Hanüch and Yamsi Natynozh types. This isn't to say that the rift cruisers are bad ships (far from it, actually), but rather the Pords would much rather see speedy and effective outcomes than tarry with the uncertainty that legions of cruisers would bring to a battlefield and this, with Pataaq somewhat concerned he will not be able to combat multiple fleets alone, is one such case. The communications officer speaks:

We have two battlecruisers near. They're from Kolnaq's Brigade, Hyth's Division. Looks like Glacierrend and River Fortunate.

nam-Kalanok is in the area?

Appears to be the case, DritteJloknam, the communications officer confirms.

We'll need to contact him here shortly, then, Pataaq says. He moves his jug up to his mouth and drinks from it; the nog congeals on his upper lip and he wipes the residue away. Weigh anchors.

Tasi, comes a reply, tasinehdao! - it is echoed - Weighing anchors!

The gravitic anchors of the ship unravel their connections and she is loosed again. The vessel almost seems to be glad to be free once more, but as pleasant as the local rift might be, Pataaq has other plans.

Anchors aweigh, comes a declaration.

Pataaq nods. In one large gulp he finishes his second jug of nog. Prepare a communique to be sent to DritteJloknam Plonyzh Kalanok of the VRZ River Fortunate. Give him our position and the current status of the world down there. Be sure to mention there are two potentially hostile fleets in the vicinity, although one cannot be guaranteed to remain for long.

Anything else?

Yes - state we are requesting combat assistance from his ships to deal with this mess and that we are staying on station to observe.

Is that all?

Yes.

Pataaq signs the communique and includes a holographic transcript of the earlier conversation. Kalanok will want to know just what is going on here before committing his vessels. The communique is then encrypted and sent to the VRZ River Fortunate.

[The Lost Sole]

Deep Space Patrol,
8th Recon Fleet,
DFCC Followers of Darkness

It was day 1,432 of the 8th Fleet's deployment to Deep Space Patrol. The solitude of being this far from the main fleet was unnerving at best. The end of the month would come, and Grand Inquisitor Wilson would start to wonder if they had been forgotten about, then the monthly bulletin from the fleet would come through, "8th Fleet, continued Deep Space Patrol, report on contact," is all it would say, a simple reminder that the fleet was out there.

Grand Inquisitor Wilson sipped his coffee as he looked over the charts for the next leg of their patrol.

"It's looking to be another long day Inquisitor," Fleet Commander Edwards said as Wilson looked up from the charts. "Are you sure you don't want to add some to your coffee," he continued as he held up his flask and shook it a bit.

"It's a bit early for that isn't it Edwards?" the Inquisitor replied before cracking a smile. "You know regulations would have you up on report for drinking on duty."

Edwards was about to respond, when the door to the room swung open and a young corporal entered holding an envelop. "Your eminence," he stated, dropping to one knee before the Grand Inquisitor, "this just came in from the Silence of Sorrows." The young corporal offered the envelop towards the Inquisitor, his eyes never leaving the floor.

"Would you read that Commander," Wilson said, as he went back to scrutinizing the charts. "I'm sure Group Captain Sellers has some fascinating reprimand, or report of malfeasance for us today. As for you Corporal, dismissed."

The corporal rose and backed out of the room, while Edwards read the message. "Hot damn, finally got something," he said, as he slapped the envelop on the table. "Sellers reports long range scans report high energy readings in a nearby system, also reports multiple ships converging on the site."

Within moments, the massive LED lights on the Followers of Darkness blinked to life, as a message was sent out to the rest of the fleet to prepare for FTL. Soon one by one, the large ships blinked out of existence, only to rematerialize on the edge of the Rathos Prime system.

As the Followers of Darkness rematerialized into space, the bridge was a buzz with activity. By now, the Grand Inquisitor stood on the bridge, sipping his coffee, as Fleet Commander Edwards, barked orders to the bridge crew. "I don't want any surprises," Edwards shouted. "I want the shield capacitors fully charged, and all gun crews on station. Sensors what's the situation looking like?"

"The picture we are getting Commander, is 4 fleets, centered around what appears to be the remains of a planet. No anomalous readings reported."

Edwards casually looked up at the Grand Inquisitor, getting a basic nod in response. "Okay, all ships hold position, let's see how this unfolds," he stated. "Tell the Silence of Sorrows, full sensor sweep of the surrounding systems, if anything is out there, I want to know about it.

[The St Templar Banking Union]

Rastho Prime
New Vulcan

Kyv'Tamara was pleasantly surprised by the Lord-Admiral's words. Not only was the man telling her they mean no harm but they were extending their hands out in a gesture of friendship. She looked past the windows at the world below, having one side of it engulfed by a storm of dust and ash. Tullius was right; the planet did exhibit some great beauty, after a fashion. Furthermore, the chance of sharing a common enemy in the void, though not a rare occurrence, was certainly a convenient one.

While the idea of short term gain from this cooperation was more than appealing, there was certainly greater long-term benefits that would likely arise from this unlikely union. After all, if these Preferred, as they called themselves, deemed it no longer profitable to operate in collaboration with them it would be a simple task of erasing them from the galactic eye. And besides, the Republics have enough enemies. It would be a pleasant development to have some allies as a change. The threat of them defecting to their opposition's faction was not something that she was looking forward to dealing with.

"Well if that be the case, Lord-Admiral," She began diplomatically, "We would be more than glad to be of company to you. Certainly, as it seems, that we share common goals and interests - whether that be levelling planets of our common foes or something else entirely, and frankly I don't really care." She spread her hands passively before her. "As a matter of fact, I'm more than certain we share more than a single concern. I'd reasonably assume that you have other rivals in Orion. Perhaps when we're concluded with this affair, we may even aid you into Perseus."

"However, I'm afraid that I do have duties I must attend to," She stated apologetically, "I look forward to your reply." With that, the communications line was placed on temporary hold as the Morimpan Admiral turned her attention to the other fleet which has entered the system. Initial scans show that these vessels were dissimilar to that of the Preferred. Likely a separate fleet, the AI concluded.

"Should we hail them, Admiral Kyv'Epop?" Kyv'Ross, the Inglorious Blade's master of communications asked uncertainly.

"Yes. But don't send them anything more than a greeting." A simple hail was forwarded to the new arrivals.

Code: Select all

Greetings Stranger,

I am the Admiral of the Morimpan forces in this sector, Kyv'Tamara Epop. We would like to ask for you to identify yourselves, and inform us what business you have in this system.

Signed,
Admiral Kyv'Tamara Epop

[The Interstellar Federation]

3 hours until arrival at warp destination, Grace of the Nebula, Patrol Detail Alpha 22 "Sentinel Squadron"

The shuddering whirring of the antimatter engines on the gigantic dreadnought, Grace of the Nebula echoed around the interior of the warship, as crews hustled about to their posts. Flanking the Grace of the Nebula were five Knight-class heavy star cruisers and seven Warrior-class light cruisers with three groups of five frigates screening the larger craft. Each group was a different frigate class, the three namely being the Sirius-class, Sabre-class and Scimitar-class. This squadron of warships was Patrol Detail Alpha 22, better known (and said) as Sentinel Squadron. Assigned to one of the more unstable regions of the galaxy, Sentinel Squadron was expected to deal with bandits, pirates, scavengers and private military corps out for their next paycheck. One would wonder at why firepower on the scale of a dreadnought was required, but these so called "galactic ruffians" have caused havoc and loss, plunging worlds into disaster and raiding vital trade routes. They had to be stopped. The Grace of the Nebula would be on it's 5th patrol of this year.

Admiral Raine was a patient man, having served 70 years in the Interstellar Space Force. 70 proud years, captaining a multitude of vessels in his grand career, be it frigates to cruisers or carriers. The Grace of the Nebula, however, was the favourite ship he has ever commanded, but today he was disappointed when he saw the orders from Command. He sulked slightly as he sat in his command chair on the bridge, overseeing the IFS Grace of the Nebula begin it's journey through warpspace to what seemed like just another mundane mission of scaring the literal waste disposal facilities off these rascals' ships. "Command ought to send this bad boy to a real combat situation, it's a warship not a police ship." he muttered to himself.

An PSA was broadcast to the crew:

"ALL HANDS, ALL HANDS, REPORT TO YOUR STATIONS NOW. WE ARE BEGINNING WARP. REPEAT, BEGINNING WARP."

Sentinel Squadron manoeuvred themselves into position, their warp drives ready to shoot them across the galaxy in just a few hours

Raine sighed before telekinetically picked up a mug of coffee, levitating it over and taking a sip, before puffing on a cigar. It was going to be a long day...

[The Dominion of Black Sun]

Dominion Deep-Space Frontier Fleet, DES. IEDUX-9870-0473.IV
E.SD-IC (ESC) system, 405,000 kilometers from EU-24321
The 'Aeternium', a Volhynia-Class Frontier Command Vessel

An accord had been struck, informal as it were. By the grace of the Dark Star, Tullius had secured a foothold in a region of fair use to his superiors, an event that would have nigh-immediate repercussions - news of this exchange was already making its way to local relay fleets, and from there it would go on to the entirety of IEDUX Deployment. The only responsibility the Lord-Admiral now posessed was to maintain this foothold for long enough that the Dominion may begin its extended motions toward this sector - a task he now felt refreshingly assured of being quite capable of.

As the techships wrapped up synchronization patterns and concluded sufficient analyses of all known datapoints within their ten-A.U high-priority radius, Tullius seized the moment to reach out to one particular individual that he knew as a matter of certainty was relatively nearby, a friend of his from years past and a settled ally the Lord-Admiral was sure to pull upon.

Tullius input a few commands into his private console, his motions swift and absolute as he navigated the seemingly featureless interface. With perfect immediacy, his vessel seemed to respond in a manner it would only to its true master, in more ways than the customary announcement from the AuMi System:

"Synchronization Call Dispatched to: IEDUX-9870-0201-5...

Call Received.

Call Accepted.

Slotting Facsimile Agent for Synchronization...

Agent Found.

Mentis Patterns active.

Synchronization Initiated. I.9.0.5 Notes: 'A welcome visit, Lord-Admiral!'"

The leathery padding of the seat Tullius sat within seemed to recede as though it were a liquid, as thin, metallic strands advanced upon Lord-Admiral all at once from seemingly all directions. Tugging at his apparel, several curious augmentations were revealed about Tullius' form, circular terminals where the wire-like fibers clustered around and progressed into. Tullius' could feel his consciousness rapidly slipping away from him, as he relaxed and allowed the process to move forward.

---

Dominion Deep-Space Frontier Fleet, DES. IEDUX-9870-0201-V
X.UT-OE (XTO) system, 205,000 kilometers from EU-00861
The 'Tallyhawl', a Castigator-Class Grand Command Vessel

Darkness clouded the Lord-Admiral's vision, as perpetual nothingness surrounded him. This period lasted no longer than a brief few seconds, after which his sense began to return to him. The first to re-manifest was taste, although there appeared nothing extraordinary, but this was followed closely by sound and smell. It was here he was certain he was somewhere else, a belief verified as sight and touch reemerged. His surroundings had changed, almost entirely. Physically, he appeared entirely removed from the command deck of the Aeternium, placed in a space of vastly greater opulence and scale - but he was not entirely unfamiliar, nor indeed unfamiliar at all. He stood now upon command deck of a Castigator I-Class Hyperdreadnought, there was no mistaking it with his knowledge, but of course it was none other than the Tallyhawl, a gracious starship no doubt, but not half as much as its brilliant master.

"Tullius, what kind surprises the Lord-Star graces us with these days!" Spoke a voice both articulate yet hearty, sourced from a tall, silver-haired man, whose appearance carried both eminence and authority in one figure. The character rose from his command-throne, the body and mind of the Grand Lord-Admiral Iseppien, although he is most frequently referred to by his first name, Argus, but he was a known and well-liked figure amidst the outer reaches of the Grand Frontier. It was by sheer luck Tullius was able to reach him so soon in this region, despite the inconsideration of his 'popping-in' so abruptly.

Tullius instinctually bowed before Iseppien, granting the Grand Lord-Admiral the pleasure of a light chuckle, "Indeed, although you'll find no kindness in me as of late - kind faces and kinder words, but none true." The Lord-Admiral smiled jollily as he received a glass of Orchard's Wine, they shared a laugh together.

"If I weren't so careful, Tullius, I'd dare say you're playing a game of diplomacy. Correct me if I'm wrong, although I gather I'm not, but I'd suppose that explains your being here." Argus poked, staring outward at the massive view-screen, the Tallyhawl stretching onward into the absolute dark, a barren and empty world sitting in the background a few hundred-thousand kilometers away. Servants and staff milled about the spacious command spire below.

"I'm ashamed to say you've gotten me there, Argus, but I am not so to state that my games have played off more than well thus far. I've had the Aeternium contact your vessel with the details of events thus far, events I believe you will find quite to your taste." Tullius spoke. Argus summoned a holoscreen before him, navigating to the documented events as they had occurred. Swiftly, although with great detail and attention, the Grand Lord Admiral reviewed the events as they had come to pass, his countenance moving from quite neutral to certainly amused.

"Sapien! Sapien! Hah! I must say, Tullius, when Westerian forced you upon this excursion would you suppose he had any knowledge you'd come off better than you went in?" Argus laughed with genuine emotion, the holoscreen evaporating to nothingness.

"I'd like to think not, but the Cosmic Reaper has his ways as you must know..." Tullius said quite sarcastically, "However, pleasant as this has been, you know I am here to ask of you-"

"-my counsel and expertise in all matters going forward. I am more than understanding of this, I sense you have need of me a great deal, but.." Argus hung on his words, knowing he was letting a dear friend quite down.

"...but you cannot see how it could be arranged. Have they bound you so tight to your schedule you've no room for even but a modicum of autonomy? Nevermind it, the Deployment acts in the better interests of the Dominion after all - forget this nonsense, it was nothing-" Tullius began to dismiss the situation.

"No, no, never that. I was merely trying to express, I should hope that I am not needed at the very moment you return - I have business here I cannot yet stray from." Argus' words brought a brief sense of elation to Tullius, caught both in a moment of embarrassment and pleasant shock, "Don't give up on me just yet now, Jaymes. This Xeno business, after all, will become much too large for you to rightly take all the responsibility for - I am only so privileged to share in the glory."

"But of course, Grand Lord-Admiral" Tullius spoke, bowing graciously almost as if by natural compulsion in a sense of gratitude.

"If there's no more to say here, then I would like to believe you're much needed elsewhere. I will raise alarm to you before I arrive - give me some time to settle my own far more muted troubles before I come to aid you in your own." Argus raised his glass to Tullius, as the two shared a firm handshake.

"I look to it. Until then, fair winds, Argus." Tullius spoke in parting fashion. Iseppien returned with a warm smile, watching as the corporeal form of his companion disintegrated into silvery, metallic dust. Like silvery sands caught in a vortex, the particulates retreated skywards, toward the darkness of the high ceilings above Argus' head.

Argus set his glass down, turning toward the forward viewscreen, "Fair winds, indeed."

---

Dominion Deep-Space Frontier Fleet, DES. IEDUX-9870-0473.IV
E.SD-IC (ESC) system, 405,000 kilometers from EU-24321
The 'Aeternium', a Volhynia-Class Frontier Command Vessel

Tullius' return to consciousness was abrupt. As though emerging from a pleasant dream, he stood up from the command throne staggered, still momentarily lagged by the return from that brief voyage. It was a brief experience at best - his senses returned to him in full, no longer would his mind be so terribly clouded by the dregs of Facsimile Synchronization, not this time at least.

He fixed his eyes upon the smokey world ahead, mulling over events as they would come to pass in perfect sequence in his head. He knew it was an unrealistic thing to consider, the perfect transition of events from one stage to another, but it was something stable to fixate upon. He pondered about it for a few minutes more, glancing ahead every so often, but ultimately decided the best way to drive progress was to cause a stir in one's own environment.

"Full ahead, close at 25,000 kilometers. Bring all systems up to bear." The Lord-Admiral declared. A sudden lurch, and he knew they were displacing from their current position.

The D.S.F. Fleet slid from the dark. Hulking and sinister, the Aeternium headed the fleet toward EU-24321, a beastly vessel flanked by similarly-immense and powerful ships, all composed in the same authoritative, imposing architecture that was definitive about Dominion warships. They were the enforcers of the Dominion's power and will - they were its strength, made manifest.

The fleet drew closer by the second, as Tullius watched the clouded, fiery world grow larger and larger, gradually dominating the view.

[Novaya Equestria]

Novayan Reichstag, Morales
Atelansian Continent, Armanya
Novayan Confederation

Members of the Planetary Council for Peace and Order gathered around the council room alongside members of the Novayan Reichstag. The last to enter was the military-corporate autocrat of Novaya: Admiral Borealis Mir Norsoutha-Tomoshima (or Borealis Norsoutha), the Supreme Leader of the Novayan Confederation. Admiral Borealis then sat down at the chair before looking at them. "Alright, people. I want to know much about what's going on." Admiral Borealis said. Colonel Walter Amsel, Vice Spokesperson for the PCPO and the Novayan Armed Forces, stood up.

"We have reports regarding the Novayan Confederation: We're sending a sizable amount of weapons and equipment to a small empire east of the Novayan Confederation. We also sent 100 military advisors from the Novayan Marine Corps and the Novayan Ground Forces to provide the military of the Arryonian State, the small empire I mentioned, the experience they needed. There has been an uprising, likely started by racial terrorists, in one of the planets of the Mereenia System, but they have been crushed thanks to a military rapid response task force. In other reports, our economy (which is capitalist, by the way) is going along nicely since we're selling a portion of our weapons." Colonel Walter Amsel reported as he sits down.

General Kurenai Rika stood up. "The Novayan Armed Forces will be having a multi-service military exercise that will be in the Haru System. Law enforcement is still in that level, but now in higher levels thanks to the racist uprising that happened in the Mereenia System. They'll be hunting down anyone who supported racial discrimination." General Kurenai Rika reported. "Good. Anything else?" Admiral Borealis asked.

"We have received reports that the New United Morimpan Republics has been invading Rastho Prime, where the Gel'durk are located at. We may have heard that there were atrocities committed there." SS-Brigadefuhrer Helga von Schraunberg reported. "If they're committing atrocities, we'll send a peacekeeping force there to monitor the conflict. The peacekeeping group will be bringing humanitarian supplies, but we will not join either side. We'll be neutral, unless the situation deteriorates." Admiral Borealis said. "It is our nature to provide aid, monitor conflicts and evacuating everyone, but it is not in our nature to force both sides into negotiations. We'll only negotiate with the Morimpans to send any Gel'durks to us so that we can either evacuate them or nurse them back to health. Get to it. All of you." He added.

Everyone in the room agreed to it.

[Pordlandia]

Kalanok's Cavalry

The appearance of more warships into the system has not escaped Pordish notice. Pataaq, in typical fashion, makes no reaction that could be mistaken for surprise or even irritation. Of course, far be it from him to be bothered by such occurrence. Kalanok will be fighting here, not him, and large hosts never did offend Nalydian sensibilities. Well, with the exception, perhaps, of the Kirans... But they are neither here nor now. Regardless though, his jug has been refilled. He takes a long drink from it and grins warmly.

Bring us up to a slow sublight cruise, Pataaq orders. Keep us in the relative vicinity.

Myriad tasinehdaos! ring out across the bridge as the orders are carried out. In the rift the ship begins to move and her funnels once more pour excess into the realm. Not in any great quantity, mind you, but just...Enough. The rather paltry stream reveals just how much power she is using to attain her cruise - piddling, as befit of such an elementary cruise velocity. Pataaq nods to the helmsman who charts a rather banal but useful course. The ship responds smartly and is soon settled into her new course.

Coming onto course, DritteJloknam, an affirmation comes.

A quick glance at the displays verifies the helmsman's declaration. Good. Pataaq raises his jug once more and brings it to his lips; he can just about feel the nog rushing past when the communications officer interrupts him:

We are being hailed.

On-screen, Pataaq orders.

The familiar visage of Plonyzh Kalanok materializes before those on Pataaq's bridge. The various officers salute; Pataaq is first to speak:

nam-Kalanok, a pleasure.

Yes, indeed the pleasure is mine, nam-Pataaq. We received your message, Kalanok says. Very odd timing you have, Kalanok adds. He laughs slightly and passes Pataaq a data package. We were in the midst of operating with other GESO forces, Houseidou Sovereignty forces, in fact, he says. He nods to his comms officer; a message is sent to the Houseidou forces detailing the situation.

Pataaq nods. Never did claim combat is convenient.

If only. We will need to see if they're willing to join us here. I will send some of this tactical information their way. So what is the situation here? Anything of particular note?

Not particularly, Pataaq says. Another fleet has arrived but it too is relatively minor in ship count.

Kalanok scratches his chin. We'll manage then, he says. I assume you will not be joining us in combat, nam-Pataaq?

No, Pataaq replies. It would not be wise for me to do so.

Figured as much, Kalanok nods. If you can remain in the relative vicinity, then, to pass us higher level intel, we would greatly appreciate it.

Pataaq nods. Of course, he says.

Kalanok can see Pataaq motioning to a few individuals off-screen. He sees Pataaq mouth something about higher-level Natyl & Mylchar scanning but cannot discern the specifics. It should be about time to engage, then, Kalanok considers to himself. A feeling action will be good. From here, I can react as needed. Kalanok turns to his helmsman:

Bring us out of rift at interdiction's edge, he orders.

Tasi, nam-Kalanok, the helmsman acquiesces.

nam-Pataaq, Kalanok says with a salute. The line is cut and the holograms fade away.

VRZ River Fortunate leads the formation. She sails deliberately through the rift, forcing her way past the horrendous torrents with much haste and none of the finesse the rift cruisers sail with. Behind her VRZ Glacierrend follows her lead and every movement. At the interdiction's edge rends in reality can be detected as the Pordish ships claw their way into coherent space-time; River Fortunate is still first and accompanied by her entourage; Glacierrend is not far behind and similarly is surrounded by a cloud of smaller support ships.

Localized defensive fields are operating without difficulty, nam-Kalanok

Set course for that rocky world with the conglomeration of warships about it, Kalanok orders. Sensors, keep us current.

Tasi, tasinehdao!

[Olimpiada]

---

Neo Terra, New Sol

---

Vasileios Procopios had never planned on actually becoming relevant in Olimpiadan foreign policy. He worked as a missionary for the Church of Man's Divinity, and was as unsuccessful as the others that lived in the same apartment building as him. That job was easy. Collect checks from the Olimpiadan government, preach the words of the Priestess Iztel of Emerald, and return home to ponder how he could improve his method of proselytizing (despite the knowledge at the back of his head that the people of this world were far too tolerant and set in their was to understand the truth).

However, his secondary mission was far easier. That was to keep tabs on the actions of the GESO. Nothing particularly skillful; after all, he wasn't the CACO, or anyone similar. He just had to keep track of what he read about them on the news and watched on the holovids. Olimpiada could get most of this at a government level using paid employees, but they saw it as being easier (and cheaper) to make some nationalistic traveler abroad do it for free on location. Not that Vasileos minded. If Olimpiada was the only country to accept the Church of Man's Divinity, then he was happy to serve it.

He had been at home, relaxing on his sofa. The holovid faintly glowed in the afternoon sun which filtered through the window where a potted plant sat. Today's general assembly meeting was playing. Vasileos nearly choked on his glass of water when he heard the frantic report of the Ellian delegate. Four ships downed at Rastho Prime.

He got up quickly, just short of running to the computer at the desk in his bedroom. His bare foot tapped impatiently on the plastic floor as the operating system booted up, despite it only taking a few seconds for the screen to properly load on the minimalist glass monitor. His fingers hurriedly tapped away at his keyboard while he wrote a quick message to his superior back on Emerald. A few minutes later, there was an excerpt from the broadcast attached to a brief description of what was said, in the event that someone was that lazy.

When he had finished, the entire process taking about five minutes, he switched tasks. If there was to be blood, he could at least start preparing new preaching material in advance. After all, conflict made people realize that their old ways were inherently flawed, and he would be damned if he failed to use that to his advantage.

---

Three Leaders, Gaia

---

In an empty marble room, before a window that let in the morning sun, President Alexios Cyrenacius grinned as he looked at the video feed on his computer. Not only were the xenos bickering again, the false humans of Primus Centurus might just learn why they should be under the yoke of their counterparts of terrestrial origin when they would inevitably wear themselves out following this conflict. He grinned and chuckled to himself. Opportunities presented themselves here, and only a fool would squander them.

He could make the Olimpiadans work with the attackers here to eliminate (or at least weaken) heretical nations. Alternately, he could use his forces to quickly eliminate the hostiles, making Olimpiada, and by extension, its church, a better perceived and more appealing nation. And then there was the "nuke everything" option that the war profiteers of the Archontia and the more zealous members of the Kliros inevitably favored.

While every option he could conceive of had its distinct advantages and disadvantages, there was a better way to decide on what to do. As it stood, there was only the information provided by a fearful and shocked diplomat. Simply put, he needed more of that information, the sweet nectar that made nations function. The more, the better. Reconnaissance would be a necessity here. Fortunately, he had people for recon.

---

Cobalt, Gaia

---

Odessa Eliopolou did not hesitate to answer the video call when the president rang. Not only was it the polite thing to do, it was an excellent idea for her career. She was already the head of the Cobalt Ascendancy's Covert Operations branch, but to be head of the entire Ascendancy was her ultimate goal. And no one had ever managed to be appointed to such a position without the politicians liking them, despite it being a primarily scientific organization.

"Greetings, Mrs. Eliopolou. I trust you've been keeping busy?" asked Alexios. The man's eyes were an unnaturally bright blue that unnerved her to this day, even after they had been working together for three years. She (and many of her colleagues) suspected that it was the result of genetic modification via a retrovirus, or at least minor plastic surgery.

"Of course. Did you need something, or were you just checking in?" she replied, in a sort of rhetorical question. There never was a "just checking in" when one ran Olimpiada's premier special operations group. The only reason for anyone to even acknowledge the department was because they needed something done under the table, usually by way of extreme violence.

She was a fan of extreme violence.

"I needed something." With a gesture of his hand, he had moved a video recording into the corner of the screen. Rather than focusing on Alexios, her eyes darted to the new information. Alexios waited patiently, reclining in his padded leather chair. She looked up once more.

"That's a bit of a mess. Are you looking for someone to fix it? Because you'd be better off checking with the admiralty." She bit her tongue almost immediately after saying it. Lapses in professionalism were never helpful. Fortunately for her, the president wasn't terribly professional by anyone's standards.

"Nope. I need more information before I need admirals. I understand that the ascendancy has people skilled in such things?" A rhetorical question. Their field agents were fullaug mages, loaded with the finest nanotechnology money could buy, with abilities honed to an edge by years of training and operations.

"We have plenty of them, yes." She knew there were at least five hundred Hands of CACO operatives, though she didn't know how many were available at the moment. The answer was inevitably "enough".

"Brilliant. I'm going to need a Hand to check out Rastho Prime. Keep it quiet, I don't want the Anthropoi getting concerned, you know they're less enthusiastic about conflict than the Kliros or the Archontia." He spoke in the conspiratorial tone of one who had known little but politics for his entire life.

"Aye sir." She waited a moment for Alexios to close the call, before changing the tab on her computer to file an order for a quick system recon.

---

Rastho Prime

---

CACO Hand 135 jumped into the outside of Rastho Prime with few issues, entering at the edge of the system to remain inconspicuous. Rather than the orbiting worlds of Gaia, the sky was now filled with an unfamiliar starscape. Theodoros Foloi, the Hand's leader, let out a low whistle.

"We don't usually operate this far from Scutum-Centaurus, do we? Looks weird. Can't find a single constellation I know," he muttered to himself. Nikoleta Archea, the group's technology expert, decided to hear him anyway.

"No, but we're here anyway. Thank Eliopolou for that," she said, shaking her head. "Initial scans suggest life on three of the worlds, and a massive naval presence around one of them. And-" She cut herself off, letting out a low whistle.

"What is it?" asked Stephen Katakolo, lifting his head up from the railgun he was cleaning to direct his attention to her.

"You'll get a kick out of this one." She was right. Katakolo was their explosives expert, after all. "One of the worlds is on fire. And not just a little bit. Looks like a sustained orbital bombardment."

"You're right, I do get a kick out of it," he said, grinning. He'd been fascinated with the logistics of orbital sieges

"I'm assuming that's not all we can learn about the system, right?" asked Foloi.

"Certainly not," said Archea. "And you damn well know that we need to be closer for this ship's mediocre sensor array to pick up anything more than broad details."

"I know, I know," he said, shaking his head at her missing the joke there. Everyone knew that sensors generally worked better when one was closer. It was a physics question, really. "In that case, I'll take the five of us around the system, see what we can see, no?"

[The Fedral Union]

Terra on the march.

“Well sir, we are bounded by treaty obligations..”

Said Interplanetary Secretary KI, his voice guff as was usual for his species yet professional; he had spent long hours glancing over the proposal and request for aid and saw little if any diplomatic way out of the situation.


President Shore folded his hands upon the auburn colored desk that graced the center of the executive mansion, behind him where wide window panes that looked outward to the bustling capital of the alliance, where air cars buzzed about massive spires at various levels like swarms of insects going about their various task. He had a grave expression on his face having spent all night reading over the reports from his allies and the immediate request and deployment there of of GRF assets, now it was up to him to tell his people that their duty and obligations to the allied powers required the march to war.

War… How abhorrent, how despicable in his eyes, and in most sane person's eyes, was some time the necessary evil of astro politics. He replied waving a hand nonchalantly across the desk of his pressing his fingers on a contact fluidly to summon a frosted glass of water.

”That much is obvious, as much as we both would like it to be otherwise we cannot ignore the plea for help from either a people nor an ally. I don’t relish the fact of sending young Terran Sapients in to the line of harm, but we must do what we have too..

The senate is going to be critical as if they never are eh?.”

Ki replied looking over at the President, he could already see some of the stress of the job taking its toll on the youthful and fresh appearance that so personified him in the past, he said just as he looked down at his wrist, the subdermal holo display clearly showing the notes from the report.

“The senate can't really fuss over the legality of our responsibilities, of course I know they’ll find some way to needle things but I don’t think we’ll have much in the way of opposition. Unless they want to look like they condone the genocide of an entire species to the people I think even some of the more pacifists in the senate will grudgingly accept this whole thing”

President Shore cracked a slight smile, it seemed to have been ages since he had a genuine reason to smile amongst the vicissitudes and crisis plaguing the galaxy and more over the Terran Alliance who was one of its stalwart superpowers.

”Well Ki, get the press corps together, inform secretariat Silver that the GRF will be receiving additional support from the Terran government.

Several hours later, 13:50 LPT

Despite the grumblings at the interstellar security meeting of various advisors in regards to the plan of action, it was ultimately settled after a grueling in depth strategic, political , and tactical analysis that the best course of action was to spearhead a rapid response into the system, while attempting to put political pressure to guide the situation. To put an analogy toward the whole strategy, it involved one of the largest deployments of Terran Forces since the Chronosian conflict.


”This is going to go over great with the people… Admiral Selm Murphy you say for this campaign we’re going to require the deployment of at least two fleets for the initial assault and two fleets as a reserve force.. How many ships are we talking?”


Admiral Slem Murphy had the appearance of a typical career officer, short well made hair no facial hair to speak of and a rather plain , stern look about him. He glanced to the president and said .

Sixteen hundred warships, divided into eight fleet elements, that's about two hundred ships per element divided further into task forces of ten ships within each element. It will of course take some time to deploy some of these ships but we should have them available just as the rapid response forces are moving in.

President Shore once more looked grave, he shifted in his seat and glanced over to Ki who was standing beside the table then to General Upreion, the scaled halfing of Sohjian origin looked back stalwartly.

”General Uprieon.. How many of our boys and our drones do we have to commit to this thing

The General said as if she almost expected such a question, that voice of his gruff and rather characteristic of her species.


Initially, we’re allowing the GRF to deploy several battalions as a forward spear, our plan is to use our initial small commitment to secure several zones of operations for our transports, Mr President, I won’t lie.

This is an entire system we’re assaulting, we’ve not seen this sort of operation since the last war with the chronosians, our initial deployment of 142,500 drones and troops will be paltry to the additional forces we’re going to have to commit. Less to say it will be a significantly larger force, Me and Admiral Murphy have already consulted with GRF commanders and our counterparts in the GESO. Unlike the last war, we won’t be alone, but we’re still looking at a large deployment, and it will take some time to accomplish. I and Admiral Murphy are relatively confident in our traditional technological edge and force multipliers.


President Shore once more let out a sigh, he waved a hand in near exasperation at the whole thing and looked across the table.

“And we have no other options?”

Shore looked to Ki who shook his head.

And so it was decided, grudgingly that things would go ahead.

---

Address to the Alliance. 1500 Local Planetary Time

President Shore appeared throughout the galaxy via holowave and media drones, the executive office was as majestic and pristine as ever with the slightly aged president looking toward the cameras. The lines on his face more obvious than before, he folded his hands on the desk and began to speak with a conciliatory tone at first.


"Good Afternoon my fellow sapients and citizens of the Alliance, I appear before you today to elaborate and explain what the recent news out of the Ellian republics means for us and for yourselves. I, as much as any of you, are shocked by these recent events, and are still trying to process the full brunt of it all. But one thing is clear; we cannot allow an allied power to stand alone in the face of hostile forces committing acts of atrocious barbarity. What kind of a people would we be as sapients as Terrans if we where to go back on our word and turn our back on those in need?

First, we all know that under the charter for the Galactic Economic and Security Organisation, that we are bound to assist any allied state in their conflicts if they so requested; the article for mutual defense has by the Ellian representative at the GESO general assembly today been invoked.

Secondly, this means that as much as we might abhor violence and wish a diplomatic solution that we must with the full technological, economic and military might of our people. Support our ally, this means sacrifice, this means the loss of a spouse, the loss of a child, the loss of a husband. I know this is not an easy choice for any of us and I do not take this action on behalf of our people lightly. We will need to spend resources in addition with our other allies to bring to a successful conclusion this conflict.

As your president and as the commander in chief and in accordance with article six of our constitution and, with the senate ratification of the GESO charter has ordered the deployment of our armed forces in order to bring about a satisfactory conclusion to this ongoing tragedy. When I was elected to this office I thought it would be an era of peace, an era of cooperation.

Of powers working together to combat the great displacement in all its forms and effects. We will continue this effort and the effort of gaining allies in far corners of the galaxy both economic and otherwise. This; is simply just a small bump on a proverbial road, a road our republic has long been travelling and has long since learned to adapt too.

Thank you for your time, wherever and on what ever world you may be. May our republic stand the test of time for many years to come."

---

The Rathos System, the Terrans and the thrust into war

In a sudden and subtle glimmer of light, twenty four Terran ships had jumped on the edge of the system, their wedged slender forms and sleek bodies tell tale signs of where they where form. Ranging from the large dreadnoughts to the strike cruisers then to the heavy destroyers and frigates they jumped perfectly in a combat formation. The veil of stars around them so many in number that it dwarfed even this mightiest of technological forces

Each formation had jumped in at the edges of the system on opposite ends, and in the midst of their formations two of the Alliances powerful dreadnoughts flanked at a reasonable distance by their task forces slowed to a crawl.

The flagship of each task force were assigned to spear head the initial allied effort into the system, in a rough sense. The TAS Orion, was one of these majestic beasts of technology and one of the newest ships on the Terran Registry.


Within its vast and spacious CIC sat Admiral Terrance Wellin, his EXO Ieekuri Koi and a display of the ship's avatar next to the vast strategic holo emitter at the center of this vast command center. His blue eyes glanced over the myriad of information provided by various sensory systems long range and short, from the positions of the world's in question, to the smallest speck of oort cloud debris. Obviously the image had been filtered to show only relevant information, Admiral Wellin sunk in his chair, the busy command center about him operating quietly, its personnel and drones focused on each of their respective consoles. Wellin felt the tendrils of the ship's mind intertwined with his, thought to thought, brain to brain. The vastness of the ship's avatar was all but inescapable and incomprehensible to him. Yet the sapience Orion leant this vast and confusing feeling a comforting warmth through that connection of thought.

At a whim a Terran could simply order or command most anything, from opening a channel to any ship or world within the reach of the hyper comms, to merely to attain a refreshment . This temporary union of mind and super mind gave such an advantage in the form of command and control that it replaced most verbal commands for certain duties and activities.


Wellin said through this connection of thought.

”Open a channel to the allied commanders..”

-blip-

”I’ve taken the opportunity to order a few of our corvettes and frigate attachments configured for long range scouting and operations to begin penetration into the system.

Orion mentioned, whilst Wellin prepared to speak through the interlink.


“This is Admiral Wellin of the Terran Alliance Dreadnought Orion, I am going to assume all of you have received the battle plan; so let’s get right to it. We’ve sent a wing of ships ahead in an attempt to gather intelligence, while it might seem redundant we can all agree we should never underestimate how fast events can move.


The Orion and her task force will move in from the displayed axis of maneuver as the head GRF group Alpha, once the rest of the allied forces arrive. Good luck..”


Wellin let out a sigh, his mind was occupied with what faced them. It seemed like a simple enough objective despite the volatile vortex of political forces and high stakes poker grasping at the edges of this bubble of responsibility he was charged with. Every commander weather biological, or not in his lessons on history had to grapple with the tenuous balance of a mission and the cost of lives or equipment needed or sacrificed to complete it.

The last major war was something still burned into the psyche of the Terran Alliance. It was something that forced it onto the galactic stage as a premier power, but at the cost of so many people so many innocent lives and so much infrastructure. This time things were different; they were not under attack but they were going to lead a charge onward into an allied system on a mission of liberation. Long gone were the days of the UTA fighting for its very life, yet Wellin still had a heavy weight upon his heart knowing that some will still die some might not come back. But if there was anything a commander needed to keep in mind was the fact that he had an objective and that he had to accept the consequences of his orders and his actions. Terran officers were taught that complacency was a malaise, and to not be prepared for any contingency was an abhorrent thought.



The Pordish fleet would arrive shortly, and once they did, along with additional Terran forces the day of reckoning would be upon these people. Wellin stood from his seat and folded his hands behind him glancing out of a holoport, all the meanwhile several two hundred meter and one hundred and fifty meter long ships under cloak and thus under a complete obscurity from the eyes of the universe converged from various points attempting to sweep with sensors the world’s slated as targets to be retaken. The great machinery of war which was the culmination of all of the sapient will and knowledge of several species where now ready to descend upon this system.


”You’d think all these centuries we’ve been amongst the infinity of the multiverse and the stars, we’d have grown out of such bloody fighting..”

Wellin thought aloud he looked over to his executive officer who could offer no real reply, he too thought things would be different, but where they ever different? No matter how advanced the power no matter how close to godhood one seemed despite that being an impossible achievement, war always reared its primal and ugly head.

It had gone on since the start of history, and perhaps will continue until the end of history; if such a thing existed.


”So far bravo and charlie group have reported nothing unusual, they’re entering from counter rotating positions towards our final objective.”

Orion said, noting Wellin’s distracted demeanor, Wellin looked back and nodded pacing around the holographic representation of the system. So far so good he thought, so far so good..

[New Roman Empire]

Emperor Tedian
Aboard the TES Ravage, Rathos System
216th "Emperor's Wrath"

Tedian had just walked onto the bridge, Ambassador Tal had just informed him of the situation several hours ago. Tedian made the decision to pull the 216th out and throw the 156th and 117th into the Kadush Expanse Revolt. He didn't have time to wait for the GA to do something damn politicians, they claimed to be the leaders of society and all they did was bicker and fight amongst themselves. Resolutions are just words, its soldiers who do the real work, anyone could sit there and propose a resolution but they wouldn't fight it themselves they know their military has that job. "Admiral, when all ships send the ready signal I want to jump to the Terran fleet location at the system. We will meet up with them for a short while then proceed to our main objective in the theater. Once we have a base set up we can start to engage the hostiles in the theater, hopefully we will be able to push them out swiftly and get back to the pathetic excuse of a revolt." Informed Tedian as the venom was clear in his voice on how he thought the rebels were no more than slaves attempting to break free form the empire which wouldn't happen not while he was still breathing.

"Right away Emperor Tedian, do you think our current forces will be enough to end the war?" Asked the Admiral who was at his station on the bridge over looking all of the bridge crew. This was standard on Terliran ships, it was a sign of status in the Navy to over look your crew as they worked to ensure they were doing their job as efficient as possible. Of course each ship also had an AI and each AI was different. If you got stuck with an ass you were stuck with that AI until a ship was sent to a dry dock to have repairs and to replenish supplies. Though thankfully the AI on this ship was decent and the crew seemed to get along with it.

Before Tedian could answer the AI called Vengeance who appeared as a female in front of the two, "according to our numbers I cannot guarantee that our current forces will be sufficient to hold against the hostile fleet if it were to do an all out assault on us. Ground forces currently is enough to secure us a base at our objective but again a full scale assault on the planet will not be easy. I would recommend having a support fleet of 20 ships with another 90 thousand soldiers at the ready once we have secured a base in our AO."

"Thank you Vengeance, but I think our forces will be sufficient if we need a support fleet I will have one sent but as of right now I believe this will be sufficient for what our current task is. We will drop out of FTL on the edge of the system and inform the Terran forces that we will be establishing a FOB on the planet of Vaizgamtas. That will give us the foundation to start to commence operations in that theatre of the system. But I trust in our soldiers to complete their objectives, I assume our deployable structures that we can launch from orbit are prepared?" Asked Tedian as he looked out into space from the Bridge view port.

"Yes Emperor Tedian the structures are ready, we just have to arrive at the AO and enter orbit providing it is clear and we don't have to fight our way to the ground we should be fine. But from what information we have of the system the winds are strong, but settlements on the surface are present. I would recommend an environmental shield to block out the wind, while I don't think the winds will cause our ships any problem while landing and taking off, it would make our lives much easier to not have to deal with the weather." Advised the Admiral as he brought up the projected lay out of the base. The shield would be at the center of the base, the defenses couldn't be shot from orbit so they would have to be put up by the infantry once they landed and that was the same with the environmental shield as well.

"Good, this seems solid I want to get underway Admiral have the ships sent the signal?" Asked Tedian as he put his hands behind his back.

"Yes, we are jumping in five...four...three...two...one...mark." Ordered the Admiral as the fleet jumped into FTL, all the fleet stretched and disappeared into nothing. The fleet wasn't in FTL long when they dropped out at the Terran Fleet position on the edge of the system.

"Admiral Open Comms with the Terran Fleet flagship." Ordered Tedian as he saw the Comm officer gave a nod to signal the channel was open. "Terran Flagship, this is Emperor Tedian of the Terliran Empire onboard the TES Ravage. Be advised, we will be moving on to our AO shortly at the planet of Vaizgamtas. From there we will be starting to conduct operations in that sector of the system hopefully eliminating pockets of their forces as we go. What is the current Sitrap of the situation?" Asked Tedian as he now waited for a response.

[The Dominion of Black Sun]

Dominion Deep-Space Frontier Fleet, DES. IEDUX-9870-0473.IV
E.SD-IC (ESC) system, 26,000 kilometers from EU-24321
The 'Aeternium', a Volhynia-Class Frontier Command Vessel

"More than that, Your Grace."

The Lord-Admiral stood face to face with the holographic projection of Techfleet Commander Thommand Pyrus. With a subtle gesture, the manifested figure summoned a visual diagram of the system, a 3-dimensional map, displaying their current location, the major planets and astronomical features of the system, and, most notably, a broad red disc denoting the region of space beyond which anomalous activity had begun to muster in a most unappealing fashion.

"The Auspec readings suggest at the least several dozen unidentified anomalous signatures towards the outer regions of the system, a portion of which are confirmed to be enclosing upon our position. We've yet to receive any word from the Morimpan Xenos, nor have detected any manner of reaction from them as of yet. I know I am of no stature by your comparison to make such observations, but I see sense hostilities are upon us." Pyrus' voice emphasized the relative urgency of the situation - he was a man who enjoyed a full understanding of all the variables, and as of current it felt as if they knew virtually none.

The situation was not so desperate, however.

"Please, Commander Pyrus, treat yourself to some peace of mind." Tullius' dismissive tone seemed to have impact on the man, either of surprise or shame, it was hard to determine. The Lord-Admiral studied the display with visual apathy - he would smirk, but he wasn't so daring.

A peculiar tone sounded off as Tullius requested the presence of his foremost commanding staff on-deck. Within an instant, several other figures appeared, each reporting in their name and duty in order, as per protocol. It took a moment, but sure enough, a crowd of holoprojected figures stood before the Lord-Admiral, now seated in his throne. The vibrant light of their collective glow illuminated his form, casting a rather dramatic shadow behind Tullius.

"It would seem our actions, or rather, the actions of our newest allies, the so-called Morimpan Republic, have rattled a particular sort of interstellar wasps' nest. As Pyrus and Wayde can confirm, there now exists a growing number of unknown objects, objects we are to presume are combat-capable starships of unknown allegiance or capacity" Tullius spoke with a declarative tone, lacking any passionate emotion other than the subtle loathing he seemed to always possess in reference to xenos. His words caused a stir amidst the crowd; although most were well-aware of the decaying situation, their superior officer's confirmation provided an extra level of depth.

Rising over the moment of chatter, Tullius proceeded, "Their arrival is an inevitability we are obliged to face, if not to secure our rightful place in historic record then in the name of the Crown and the Lord-Star, our eternal cause. I want every ship at maximal combat readiness and all personnel ready for every eventuality. This is not our first time exterminating petulant insects."

The Lord Admiral dismissed the commanding staff, their projections flickering off at once. A mere swipe of his hand along the arm of his throne, and an array of screens and terminals appeared before him. The fibrous, silvery stands that had seized him before returned, heralded by the artificial beckoning of the AuMi system, affixing him to his command throne. Within seconds, the body and soul of the Lord-Admiral Jaymes Tullius integrated itself into the very fleet he oversaw, assimilated into a shared cloud of deeply-encrypted consciousness, an entity that furthered its diversity as more minds incorporated themselves with the greater body of the Fleet.

The D.S.F Fleet would arise from its former state of slumber, but indiscriminate violence was not Dominion policy - not yet, that is to say. The potential for peace and cooperation was still quite a reality, so Tullius expressed in thought, although doubt was cast quite heavily amidst the Fleet's more jaded voices. War was forever on the horizon in the Dominion, stayed only by the fleeting concern for a peaceful resolution of words and politics to a problem more easily resolved with guns and manpower; Tullius would not go on record for failing to be diplomatic, but he certainly wouldn't make great pains and concessions for savages.

A transmission was blasted into the stars, a simple message of indiscriminate character that need only a simple response - complexity could be spared for later interactions, if any were to ever occur at all.

Code: Select all

Unidentified Xeno Entities,

On behalf of the Resplendent Crown and the Greater Dominion of Black Sun, I ask you make your presence and allegiance known.

Shall we make of you cooperators in our task, or targets for our guns?

Respond immediately, or allow our prejudice to decide for you.

Regards,
Lord-Admiral J.A. Tullius, D.S.F. Fleet, DES. IEDUX-9870-0473.IV



[Ella2 6]

For Whom the Bell Tolls

Orbit around Rastho Minor,
ESS Temple of Orion
Admiral Ray Jefferson

The destruction of the advance scouting force did not go unnoticed by the other vessels of the Royal Scouts, one of the Starforce's largest home defence fleets. The Royal Scouts doubled as both the primary scouting and patrol force of the Dominion but also constituted part of the Dominion's rapid response forces. The command ship of the fleet formation, the ESS Temple of Orion was one of the newest Venator II-Class Heavy Cruisers which replaced the mighty Legacy-Class Dreadnoughts as the flagship of the fleet. The grand vessel and its fellow scout force starships close enough to receive its emergency call arrived in the Rathos Prime System in advance of the rest of the Royal Scouts and any reinforcements that Starforce High Command sends them.

"Sir," The communications officer, a clone by the name Gleam, began, "we've begun intercepting messages transmitted from and received by the Morimpan fleet. All radar and sensors on passive and all starship are on standby. The Terran fleet is also within the local vicinity and Terliran fleet have just arrived." Gleam's eyebrow shot up has he estimated the combined firepower of the allied fleets present. The numbers increased as the Pords dragged themselves out of the shroud of the rift.

The Admiral nodded, "Very good, give me a report on our available forces, we need to plan our next move with our allies carefully. Blanca, What's the fleet's status?" Admiral Ray smiled as the numbers were relaid onto the curved glass screen which dominated the screen. He nodded as he skimmed over a map of the system before turning the transparency of the screen back up.

Blanca, the ship's built-in AI unit, was one of E-LAWN's tactical advisors with a direct link to the E-LAWN central AI, Ellan. Her avatar appeared on the corner of the screen now, though barely visible against the darkness of the void. "I've already contacted Ellan," her avatar stated, "The other vessels of the Royal Scouts are on-route as we speak. Last reports indicate that many of them were patrolling the opposite edge of the Dominion, so they may take some time to arrive."

"Sir, we've got two carrier strike forces and their attached destroyer squadrons as well as a scouting party with us." Gleam reported, "Will reinforcements be arriving?"

"Hopefully," Ray replied, "But they might take some time."

"Do we have time, Sir?" Grace asked. Ray turned to regard her with a good-natured shrug. Grace was part of the test batch of female clones the Dominion commissioned. Commander of the 21st Imperial Marines, she was a charismatic leader and born warrior as all clones were. A capable and respectable leader, she was a close friend and able colleague of many commanders in the Royal Scouts.

Ray chuckled earnestly, "Time is the only thing we have plenty of. Unfortunately, it seems we're short on almost everything else. Rusty, dispatch scouting squadrons into the nearby area. Gleam, tell Commodore Obrien to get his task force together and set up a listening post around Eridu. Also, send Obrien my regards while you're at it."

"Aye, aye!"

The ESS Temple of Orion's huge hanger bay was revealed as the pair of massive sliding doors opened. Squadrons of starfighters were launched from the extensive runway simultaneously. Meanwhile, the ESS Absense of Evidence and a small detachment of Xavier cruisers broke away from the main force, heading for the orbit of Eridu.

"Sir. Message from an unknown fleet that is within the inner system," Gleam reported, "Patching it onto the main screen now." The transparent screen became opaque once more as a simple text message was brought up on display.

Code: Select all

Unidentified Xeno Entities,

On behalf of the Resplendent Crown and the Greater Dominion of Black Sun, I ask you make your presence and allegiance known.

Shall we make of you cooperators in our task, or targets for our guns?

Respond immediately, or allow our prejudice to decide for you.

Regards,
Lord-Admiral J.A. Tullius, D.S.F. Fleet, DES. IEDUX-9870-0473.IV

Ray's eyebrows shot up. "Well well well. What a pleasant host we seem to have," He joked, "Gleam, send them a reply and make it snappy." He stroked his chin, noting that stubble had once more begun to develop on his jaw. "Get the crew ready for combat, I think we'll get a hearty reception from these fellows here." The reply was sent as the Ellian fleet vectored towards the Terran formations, blue streaks trailing in its wake.

ESS Temple of Orion
To: Foreign Fleet
Encryption: Null

This is Admiral Jefferson of the Starsailor's Dominion. You should recognise us and our allies. Or at least just us. Regardless, since we've never had qualms with the 'Greater Dominion of Black Sun' I will give you a chance to stay out of this conflict. Should you use your discretion and choose to contend with the Dominion and Queen whom we represent, you will not receive any mercy from our guns.

---

The Big Red One

On route to Rathos Prime
ESS Mistakes Don't Erase Themselves, Do They?
Corporal Kyle Bowen

Kyle studied the somewhat plump man before him disdainfully. Not the most impressive sight, he'll admit, but certainly not the least he has seen over the years. The man was a stubby little thing, not even as tall as Kyle. His butternut fatigues a tad too clean, and his hands a tad too pale; not yet bloodied by the act of ending life. His stature was undesirable and his demeanour was everything short of remarkable. He was probably a coward too, shying away from the convicted corporal as he spoke.

"The Big Red One's an all boy's club," Kyle told the man gruffly, blowing thick tobacco fumes in the other man's face, sending him reeling in a coughing fit. "You want to fit into our gang you have to prove you fight like a man. A real man. Not some fake cardboard cutout like them clones." He took another puff of the cigarette. "I heard they threw you in here for murder," Kyle continued, peering at the man up and down through narrowed eyes, "you don't seem like the type."

"I didn't do it. I'm innocent!" He cried in distress. The man became more twitchy as Kyle regarded him with a critical eye.

"You'd fit right in," Kyle snorted in disgust, "Now get out of my way, Plumpy." And with that, Kyle shouldered past the other man despite there being plenty of room for his narrow build to slip through. The other man whimpered and Kyle retracted his earlier opinion of the man. He was the least impressive worm he has even seen. Even the eggheads that worked in skyscrapers were at least half the man he was when shit went down. He joined the other, more worthy convicts at the main section of the lounge. The others waved him into the circle and passed him a mug of cheap beer.

"So Kyle, how's the redshirt?" Dennis asked. Dennis a burly man, tall and exceptionally strong. He towered over the others for the most part and could throw anyone off the table in a good arm wrestle matchup. His eyes were a cheeky blue with the light of mischief about them. His grey hair was starting to whiten with age and his skin tanned from years of service beneath the twin suns of Zerzo.

Kyle sniffed indignantly and downed half the mug before replying. "To quote the Great Leader; Pathetic."

"He's not much the looker," Dennis agreed, "Enough of that, look what our host is playing." He jerked a thumb towards a group of white-clad figures stood in a semi-circle, watching two members of its ranks wrestling each other in a ring painted onto the deck for the sport.

"Stupid clones," Kyle muttered.

"What's wrong with le knife et needle? J'adore le knife et needle!" Noé exclaimed, his heavy Republican accent was much akin to the language 'French' spoken by the Terrans. "We should challenge them to un duel."

The clones welcomed the challenge full heartedly. The first and only ordeal to discuss was, of course, the betting. "Loser buys the winner drinks, for the rest of the day," A rather rugged clone sergeant with a bionic leg declared, offering a hand as a gesture to seal the deal. The other clones conveyed their agreeance with a combination of nods, grins and cheers. The spokesman of the Big Red One was Dennis, being an equal in rank and, arguably, composure to the clone representative. Normally, Dennis would accept such a gracious offer, but his chaps demanded more than normal folks do.

"This is why I dislike clones," Dennis scoffed, "you fight like girls." He let the statement hang for a brief moment before continuing. "You bet like girls too!"

"Excuse me, Sir?" A high-pitched cry rang out from within the whitewashed wall, sending ripples of laughter through the ranks of the penal battalion. A clone pushed their way to the front of the formation and took their helmet off, revealing a head of pink locks. "I happen to like being a girl." She stood before them now, obviously more than simply irritated but Dennis' remark. The penal sergeant turned to Kyle, a wolfish smile spread across his shaven features. Kyle allowed a wicked grin to slip onto his face as he realised Dennis would raise the stakes unprecedentedly high.

[Houseidou]

Koyaike Island, Sea of Contempt, Madara (Miura B), Ryuusei Cluster, Delta Quadrant
Three Houseidan Days Prior

Koyaike Island, one of the many volcanic islands across the ocean world of Madara, was from all outward appearances a rather unremarkable, sparsely inhabited rock. However, it should be more inhabited due to being only a few hundred kilometers from Dobuita Island, one of the more important islands on Madara. Dobuita Island holds the Dobuita Elevator, part of 9 space elevators that serve as the anchors of the Kamakura Yards, a huge arcing installation still under construction around Madara's orbit. When completed in a Terran century's time, the docks will encircle half of Madara's orbit, the half that always faces its sun Miyura, and be able to support not only thousands of ships, but also have refineries and processing plants for raw materials, factories to produce ship parts, and serve as a transit hub for the entire Sovereignty. However, Dobuita Elevator was part of the Kamakura Naval Reserve, the military portion of the Yards, and thus served the Celestial Navy in shuttling personnel and supplies to and from the various bases across Madara, as entering and leaving Madara's atmosphere was prohibited except in certain circumstances. And thus, few people outside of the higher levels of the Sovereignty's distributed government and vast military knew of a secret transit tunnel that snaked deep beneath the surface of the Sea of Contempt from Dobuita to Koyaike to plunge down an old magma tube into the hollowed-out heart of the extinct volcano.

Layers of hard igneous rock had been reinforced with armor plating and exotic materials to spoof sensors. An ansible, the most effective form of FTL communication ever developed by the Sovereignty, had been secretly installed piece by piece to connect with any other ansible it was tuned with, specifically the ansibles of the flagships of the Sovereignty's Celestial Navy fleets. And offices, ready rooms, war rooms, and other important locations comprised this top-secret facility. This was the Labyrinth, the home of DSHIGHCOM, the Divine Sovereignty's High Command. Due to the near-constant presence of some naval forces getting repaired, refitted, or upgraded at the Yards above, the Miyura System was second only to the Sacred Suns System in security, and thus, the Labyrinth was the most secure place in the system. And it is there, within its bowels, that the Admiralty Board met.

While the Vice-Admirals ran the Fleets and saw to its day-to-day operations across the Sovereignty and beyond, the field commanders of the vast infrastructure, it was the Admirals that guided the future of the Sovereignty. Many thought that the Sovereignty had a separation between church and state, but it was more of a separation between church, state, and armed forces. All three were crucial to the well-being of the nation, and all three had immense power within. And thus, these 6 Admirals, the Celestial Marine Commandant, a rotating representative from the Mobile Defense Forces, the Sovereignty Minister of Defense, and the Mother General of the Crusades of Houseidou sat around a table of thick obsidian pulled from the construction of this facility, polished and layered so it could function as a table, five to either side, with the Fleet Admiral presiding at the head of the table. Given more traditional Japanese attire, they could have been the generals of a feudal army, sitting in the presence of their daimyo or shogun.

"Now, it has come to my attention that we have received an unusual request." The Minister of Defense announced at one of their many meetings, the room dark to show the holographic projectors in the two long walls of the room. He tapped the display of his personal tablet, and a map of the galaxy appeared, with the Huerdaen Empire a blotch of red, the Sovereignty a speck of gold, and the assorted blobs of the allies of the Sovereignty in blue. He tapped again, and one of the blobs highlighted, zooming in as the data on Imperial Nalydya, the nation of the Pords, popped up for all to see. "The Pords have offered for us to send a group for a joint exercise in the depths of space, and to bring both naval and terrestrial forces for simulated battles. It is of short notice, but we have interpreted their offer as a sign that we have impressed them within the GESO legislature. This could mean closer ties to an ally that we officially respect."

"We have the Basaka situation under control for now." The Admiral in charge of Fleet Command replied. "We can spare a fleet."

"And the First Marine Expeditionary Force recently completed their R&R period, and are itching to get back in the fight, either patrolling for Basaka or going into the Fridge again." The Commandant added, noting the colloquial term for Reizouko, the rebellious colony world that had produced insurgent forces for almost a Grand Year since the start of the Crisis named after the world. "I propose we send them as well."

"Similarly, the entire 10th Fumidai OSM Corps returned from a tour on Reizouko a while back, and are fresh and training up new personnel." The Mobile Forces representative added. "But I am certain that this exercise will be a welcome change of pace for them. I volunteer them for this expedition."

"We also need to test out the Iwouto." The Admiral heading Fleet Support piped in, mentioning the name of their still-classified prototype support ship. "If we keep her back from the rest of the fleet, we can effectively perform trials on her capabilities in space."

"I have paladins rearing to go do good in the name of the Sovereign Mother." The Mother General interjected. "If you boys don't mind, I can organize two Crusades, one of Honor and one of Valor, each about the size of a division."

"Might I also suggest the Shikotan Lone Regiment for this action?" The Minister of Defense inquired. "They have been getting bored, and the PR we had around them is starting to turn against us. We made them out to be heroes of the Sovereignty, but now, they're 'heroes' with their thumbs up their asses. If we get them out there, then we can keep the public back in support of the war effort."

"Agreed." The Fleet Admiral finally announced, startling the rest of the members of the Board. He leaned forward in his seat to gaze at the others with his single eye. All of them, like many members of the Sovereignty, had nanites in their systems keeping them eternally young, but the Fleet Admiral had been leading the secular forces of Houseidou long before there was a Celestial Navy, or even a Sovereignty. And the nanites, at his choosing, had done nothing for his scars, so with his good eye open, he surveyed his subordinates. "And I elect the 11th Fleet to be the support arm of this operation."

"11th Fleet?!?" The Admiral for Fleet Operations choked. "We're not letting 'Mad Dog' Kasai anywhere close to our allies! He'll start an international incident for certain!"

"Which is why I am also sending you." The Fleet Admiral grinned, knowing the lack of friendship between the Fleet Command Admiral and the Vice-Admirals of his Fleets. "Someone needs to keep Vice-Admiral Kasai in line, as well as coordinate all of these other forces, and I know you can do it." The grin of his scarred face turned to a serious frown. "That is an order."

---

Sovereignty Celestial Naval Ship Ousumi, Tunnelspace, Outskirts of Rathos System
Now

And thus, Admiral Gosuke Asaira, Admiral of Fleet Operations, DSHIGHCOM, stood at the bridge of the 11th Fleet's flagship as they "drilled" just under the normal quantum membrane of realspace, heading to rendezvous with the Pordish task group. He looked out across the swirling, spiraling distortions caused by twisting the fabric of reality to allow the ships of the Divine Sovereignty's Celestial Navy to, in relation to realspace, exceed the limits of light, and figured that this assignment couldn't get much worse. The exercises had gone off swimmingly, as Vice-Admiral Hoshoku Kasai had been all to eager to "play" with the Pords, and Asaira had been forced to watch his subordinate like a hawk and keep him on a short leash, and in some cases, almost literally. The Vice-Admiral had the unfortunate tendency to start fights at every other function he attended, which is why he didn't get invited to very many functions. And with his appearance, one could see why. The Admiral was a shorter man, a bit on the stouter side, with short jet-black hair, a thick mustache, and looking very much like his contemporaries back in World War II. To contrast, his subordinate, the Vice-Admiral, was a hulking titan, rippling with muscle, a face scarred and stitched back together after multiple fights to the point that it was so ugly not even his mother could love him, with fangs poking out from his broken lips and short canine ears descending from his bald head. As an Inumimi, a person whose ancestors had spliced themselves with canine DNA, Kasai mentally took after the pit bull blood coursing through his veins. And Admiral Asaira hoped this his bloodlust would be best used in the hell of combat they were about to enter.

The Houseidan Expeditionary Force drops out of tunnelspace shortly after the VRZ River Fortunate, the VRZ Glacierrend, and their respective parasite task groups. First, one hole twists the stars in a spiraling pit, then another, then countless more as the AI-coordinated ships arrive in near-perfect sync with each other, having calculated the jump trajectories to hit an infinitesimally small target. Then, like a rubber band, the quantum membrane of the Rathos System snaps back elastically to allow a kilometer and a half of armor, fusion energy, atmosphere, and various other substances to complete the journey through the Alcubierre warp bubble, its gravitic impellers slowing the craft back down to a more respectable speed. The huge vessel resembles, from a distance, the long slender point of a spear, or the blade of a sword, but a well-used sword, as chips and notches in the sides of the blade are visible. These "notches", upon seeing the full glory of the SCNS Ousumi, are gun emplacements for its compliment of powerful ship-killing railguns. Adding to the battlewagon's arsenal are point-defense grav turrets capable of spewing out depleted uranium teardrops at such a speed that to the naked eye they resemble a silver laser, plasma torpedo tubes that can launch balls of plasma manipulated towards their targets via magnetic and gravitic fields, and a wide array of tactical and strategic missiles. A host of sensors not only coordinate feeds from other ships in the fleet for a real-time picture of the entire system, but can back that up using the quantum membrane of the system, the gentle tugs of the gravity of objects through spacetime, to locate moving ships. And layers of ablative armor are woven through the ship like a honeycomb, similar to the construction of a katana: instead of one single hunk of metal wrapped around a vulnerable core, like a Western sword, the Ousumi can slew off damaged armor to reveal new plating, sacrificing parts of her interior to keep herself functional and in the fight. The lack of energy shields had never hindered the Houseidans from their expansion amongst the stars, the special gravitic-based Structural Integrity Field sheathing their ships keeping them safe from harm, up to a point.

Joining the Ousumi were the twin carriers, the Takaikaku and Torukaku, she was tasked with protecting, fatter, wider blades carrying swarms of angry fighters, bombers, and other useful craft, the "wolfpack" of cruisers from the state-of-the-art heavy cruiser Atago to her older but wiser sisters Hisui and Shinju, slender nails with flared nacelles at the rear, and an array of smaller blades, and the escort destroyers forming the outer perimeter of the fleet, seeking out targets threatening their charges. Within the fleet, the Marine Expeditionary Force with its assault ships created an inner perimeter, adding their sones of fire to overlap and cover their Naval escorts in a symbiotic relationship between branches. And in the center of that sphere were the transports carrying the OSMs and the fabled Shikotan Lone Battalion to their destination. Bringing up the rear were the prideful pair of battlecruisers Mitoku and Hiei, not as thin as their cruiser cousins, but almost carrying as much weapons as their battleship cousin Ousumi.

Ousumi herself, or rather, Captain Ousumi Hoshino, the Hoshino-class naval functionary AI within the SCNS Ousumi, felt her song resonate across the fleet, joined by her battle choir of escorts. She envisioned herself standing in the cyberscape of her sensor grid above her ship, her avatar a young human woman with long purple hair in a hime cut, wearing a kimono with a bone-white background that depicted battling and dancing oni. Her engines thrummed with the heart equivalent of a small sun, her impellers pulsed and throbbed like muscles, and her senses saw more than any human could ever comprehend, let alone process. Her weapons steeled themselves with final adjustments to their firing solutions to account for the subtle nuances of the system. Her armor gleamed with her personal sigil, the mark her crew wore as their service patch, glistening in the light of Rathos with her name rendered in both kanji and English letters below. Her commanders and crew worked within her, guiding her and preparing her for her date with destiny. She was as proud as a warship could be, eager for the glory of battle, and as she fell into line behind the Pordish compliment heading deeper into the system, she reached out to check on her fleet. They sang out with her, all systems go. They were ready to fight and die for the home stars they loved, for that was their purpose as protectors of the humans they cherished, and who cherished them in turn as their defenders. They all heard the plea of the Terrans, as did many others, and Ousumi said a silent prayer, heard only by her fleet's battlenet of AIs, for the spirits, the kami, of those ships. Even though they lacked AI, they surely had souls, as humans and other sapients had given souls to their surroundings to make them seem like themselves. Those ships had personalities given to them by their crews and commanders, stories of epic fails, of glorious wins, and voyages to the places of dreams. And she hoped, when this was all over, to maybe meet those souls, as the embodiment of her ship and its soul. Thus, she marched towards battle, materializing an old-fashioned longbow and quiver in her arms. She could sense the avatars of her fleet doing the same, donning their battle rattle from clubs to katanas to even firearms both archaic and modern. And thus, she chose her personal favorite song, an ancient song from Earth that was broadcast across allied channels, but updated by the Celestial Navy.

Muzzles flash, bay'nets swing,
Battle rifle's piercing ring
Armor rolls with shining shields,
Fight those bastards 'til they yield!
Atmo drop to take the zone,
Fight to keep this world your own
Sound the 'larm and call the cry,
How many of them can we make DIE!

[Tonina]

"The Fire of Vengeance will engulf them"

It had been many many years since the day the Pordish Gods erased nearly all of the home universe. The time when the Terrans fled the Timeline, and the heavens were so revolted they took the rest as well... Nearly. For one peoples of the conflict remained, the Maya. As they stared out into the darkened skies, enraged by the cowardice, they did declare the time of K'aak' K'iinam, the time of Vengeful Fire.

Since the declaration, the Maya have been a nomadic peoples, roaming from timeline to timeline, universe to universe, hunting GESO down to extinction where they could. Despite the losses over the years, the System States had not been sated. The fires of anger still burned in their souls. Everything they had cherished was ripped from their grasps. There could only be one atonement: Blood.

So it was, that three fleets, those of the Tonina, Tikal and Noh Chactun System-States descended into the universe they ascribed to be NS-13. Intelligence gained from initial scouting efforts brought this realm into the eyes of the confederation. Inter-System Chatter confirmed a GESO presence, of some level, in the Universe. Additionally, cautious forays into known Maya Territory also showed the presence of the System-States of the Maya. Many of whom, according to intercepted chatter, had been confirmed to have the same leaders.

The results were promising, and thus the Three System-States had been tasked with entering space outside of known GESO borders and conducting further scouting efforts. Of these, the force of Noh Chactun were the closest to the current conflicts Front. Scouting parties were away, and it would not be long until the K'aak' K'iinam descended upon GESO forces once again.

Rastho Front

In a dimmed flash of nearly black light, the small scout ship arrived on the outskirts of the Rastho system. After the ship boosted up its SPA Scanners, it was instantly bombarded with the myriad of formations and munitions being fired. The ship was in information overload, yet the computer quickly identified not only Terran, but Pordish presence in the area. With most haste, the information was relayed back to the fleet.

Noh Chactun Fleet

"At last... We are the first to make contact, with the Terran Animals." Kan Ek's mighty voice boomed in the splendorous Nohoch Chempan of Noh Chactun. The Young King of Noh Chactun was present, and personally leading his people into battle, as was the standard of the Maya. Despite his age, he was a man with such a commanding presence that with but a simple look towards the right person, he relayed the order to make the jump.

The Rastho Front

Brilliant flashes of crimson errupted at the edge of the FTLi along the Rastho Front, rippling out to show depictions of ritual sacrifice, battle, and the lamenting of captives. It was a Mural created by the fleets arrival, showing their enemies what was in their future. The Maya Forces had jumped in at three different points, coming from multiple directions to the battle. Each detachment had one Dz'onot, to allow for the transference of forces across the three formations, as well as the timely arrival of reinforcements.

Two of the detachments were divided into 350 Atlatl, and 175 Chimalli, with the remaining ships accompanying the mighty Nohoch Chempan. It was an impressive display, to any who had the visual scans to see the craftsmanship of the Mayan Vessels. Each one was a work of art, individually shaped and crafted, if still in similar dimensions and overall shapes of others ships of the same type. Seeming to be made out of precious stone, gems, and metals to the eye. All along the hulls were Glyphs and other carvings. Some had entire stories from mythology decorating their hulls, or prayers to the gods.

Most of the craft ranged a few hundred Kilometers long, but one in particular stood out in size. It was the mighty Nohoch Chempan of Noh Chactun, which was notable for its abnormal construction. While each System-State's Nohoch Chempan was large, and truly unique. It was a Two Thousand, Two Hundred Kilometer tall statue of the System-States founding deity, sitting upon a throne. The great idol grasped in his right hand and axe, and in his left, the severed head of the Death God that the deity was said to have bested during the founding of Noh Chactun.

The statue was, in true Mayan Fashion, deceptively seeming to be carved of stone. The large, almost lifelike figure seemed to be adorned in Jade, Gold, and Silver jewelry, its skin seeming to be of granite, and the severed head it grasped too seemed so lifelike for a stone carving, with rubies and red jade making up the bloodier details. A truly awe inducing sight, it was purposefully grand. It was the projection of the System-States Power, Prestige, Piety, and Ego, in a brutally practical, yet artistic form.
As soon as the fleet arrived, defensive measures went up, and the King prepared his speech, which was broadcasted to all ships, and all personnel.

"My people, my patient people. Thirteen years ago, we arrived in Terran Systems, only for them to be left abandoned, and the gods themselves take the very universe from us... Yet we remained." Kan Ek' took a moment to let his words sink in, and those listening feel the nostalgia for home and the pain of its loss, before continuing. "We did not decide this life. To go from realm to realm, taking vengeance. It was thrust upon us by the gods, and their distaste for the cowardice of our foes." The young man began to tear with righteous anger, as he continued. "The judgement, our punishment for their crimes, is unfair, but not unjust. It was the plan of the heavens, to shape us into a mighty spear that brings the K'aak' K'iinam!" Kan Ek's voice began to raise in volume, all the while shaking from the intense emotions of anger and lament. "We were warriors before, but now, we are holy warriors! The gods have chosen us, to bring the heathens to kneel before alters! We are here, to carry out divine punishment!" An audible exhale came, before a moment of silence fell. When the King spoke again, it was a much calmer and collected voice. "Some of you may have doubts, but I will bring back your faith." He proclaimed, confidently, as the video turned to recreated images of the fighting taking place in the system. "Our wretched enemy, is already beset by foes. No doubt of their own making... This is our time. Our time for justice!" Kan Ek' rose his spear towards to heavens, as the den of cheering could be heard echoing through the hulls of the Mayan vessels.
As the great orator lowered his weapon, the den fell silent. All knew it was time to hear the final words. "Today, we go to battle. We, all of us, will do our part, and know our roles. And I, as your Leader, have the utmost confidence in your capabilities... I know, it will be hard for you to heed my words, and not underestimate our enemies, but I will give you this advice none the less. Always remember, it is the coward, who is most desperate." For once, the stern faced lord cracked a pleasant smile before the conclusion of his speech. "Onward to victory." With these final words, cheers could be heard once again, as the fleet began its approach, ever vigilant.

Message to the Offensive Forces, siding with Morimpa

"We have come to destroy the cowardly GESO forces, excluding the Honorable Pords. We will aid you where we can, and expect the same. If we board a ship, or land upon a planet, we expect you to cease fire upon the target immediately. We will extend the same courtesy."

[The St Templar Banking Union]

Rastho Prime
New Vulcan

The sensors were ablaze with a flurry of unknown signatures, their numbers doubling or even tripling by the second.Then abruptly, it slowed to a trickle. The powerful scanners of the UMRVS Inglorious Blade rapidly scanned through the objects, identifying them as vessels, calculating their physical statistics, generating possible classifications and affiliation all the while hypothesising the traits and likely usage of the craft. The data organised themselves into cohesive and articulate reports to be stored within the mainframe to be later transmitted back to HIGHCOM headquarters for analysis. As the AI poured over the details, Kyv'Tamara directed her attention to the Lord-Admiral of the Dominion of Black Sun.

Direct communications links were once more established with the Aeternium and the video feed synchronised itself between the two vessels. "Lord-Admiral Tullius," She began, a small tinge of sarcastic amusement in her voice, "It appears we have company to contend with. Tell me, did you happen to pack sufficient mosquito repellent?" She glanced at the small holographic projection of the ship AI just offscreen. "We've gathered some fairly extensive information on the makes of these foreign vessels. Particularly the Ellians after our last encounter with them some twenty minutes ago."

She turned to Kyv'Ross, the master of communications. "Kyv'Ross, would you contact our destroyer squadrons and tell them to continue orbital bombardment of New Vulcan?," she asked, almost politely, "Have all other vessels to follow us. Loose Formation." The bulk of the Morimpan fleet moved away from the planet and turned to face their broadside missile tubes towards the closest enemy formation. That formation just happens to be the Ellian scouting forces.

The Morimpan warships loosen up in their formation, with each unit having a decent amount of space to manoeuvre to evade enemy fire, but close enough to provide support to each other. The Morimpan vessels form themselves into a flexible wall of war steel, poised to strike with the might of a dragon. After firing a missile salvo at the Ellians, they then turned themselves in a wide arc to bring their spinally mounted railguns to bear against the enemy fleet. A volley of slugs made their way across the vast expanse before the sleek grey vessels turned once more to face their unfired broadsides. Interchanging waves of dense slugs and bursts of missiles shot across the void. As each weapon was reloaded, the others fired in a devastating tactic the Morimpans jokingly called 'turn-tail.'

As this played out, a bloody gash in the void opened as the fabric of spacetime tore itself to bleed. Massive warships emerged from the crimson incision, seemingly propelled by nothing. Their ivory surfaces decked with jade and sewn with gold. Stone carvings of wars and warriors were sculpted into the surfaces of each craft if they could be called such. Then, a colossal carving of some alien war deity emerged from the embers of hell, clutching his war blade and carrying a severed head of some monstrosity, sat atop a marble thrown of sorts.

"By Gods!" Kyv'Tamara gasped as a stunned silence descended upon the bridge. "What is that thing?" There was no reply. The awe-inspiring figure moved as if by its own will, seemingly frozen in time yet as lively as any man.

"The gods do grace us," Vel'Sahara whispered. There was no disagreement to that. Another minute of awestruck silence passed as the Morimpan war machine ground to a complete halt, each vessel transfixed by the sight of the magnificent figure. The communications console lit up with an incoming message, snapping the attention of the crew back to present.

"They're... Hailing us?" Kyv'Ross glanced up from her screen, "They're hailing us... Ma'am." Kyv'Tamara brought the message upon her command console and read it quickly. The translation was fairly crude, having no previous contact with this race ever before. The mention of the GESO took Kyv'Tamara by surprise. The GESO? Here? She cast her gaze about and sure enough, the tell-tale fleets of the Terran Alliance were anchored not far from the Ellians. The Ellians must have secretly been GESO allies, she could see no other explanation for their presence here. Regardless, these... enlightened beings seem to be fighting against their common enemy. With a smirk, Kyv'Tamara ordered her fleet back to the offensive. Divine intervention was a suitable term to be used here.

[Pordlandia]

Autumn Yields to Winter
VRZ River Fortunate, nam-Cholkük type Battlecruiser

The relative muted extent of hostile interdiction has been noted by the Pords - both Kalanok and Pataaq. For this reason alone Kalanok and his warships have found themselves thrust into the system much closer than they had expected - a welcome surprise considering the commonality of expansive blanket FTLi. In response Kalanok simply orders his supporting vessels to their appropriate positions within their formations and calls Glacierrend to sail abreast of him and not behind; regardless they keep a relatively paltry distance between them. It also means, however, that instead of hours or tens of minutes before they would be in range, they have but only a handful. Kalanok glances to the displays; the distances between his ships are listed in thousands - "25" is displayed between Glacierrend and River Fortunate.

Terran forces arriving at system edge, nam-Kalanok, the sensors operator states. And they are not the only new arrivals. She sends the info over to Kalanok who can only nod.

So it begins, then, he states. Do we have a hail?

No, nam-Kalanok, it appears we have not been noticed just yet, the communications officer chimes in.

Kalanok scratches his chin. Perhaps the Katasians were right, he muses to himself.

Incoming transmission. It is from one of the occupying fleets:

Code: Select all

Unidentified Xeno Entities,

On behalf of the Crown of the Greater Dominion of Black Sun, I ask you make your presence and allegiance known.

Shall we make of you cooperators in our task, or targets for our guns?

Respond immediately, or allow our prejudice to decide for you.

Regards,
Lord-Admiral J.A. Tullius, D.S.F. Fleet, DES. IEDUX-9870-0473.IV

Should we humour them with a reply, nam-Kalanok? the sensors operator chuckles.

Kalanok laughs slightly as well. Among the vast panoply of star-polities who claim themselves relevant there are but a handful who truly have discovered culture. Not the crude pseudo-culture of warriors or well-dressed diplomats that pervade the myriad verses, but true culture - and respect for all that is good and divine. He stifles a sigh.

Message them back:

Code: Select all

"We are elements of Vice Admiral Kolnaq's Brigade; Admiral Hyth's Division of the Pordish Voznayte Rekazhgrazhni Zhamra. We harbour no hatred towards you, we are simply on official business. Have your weapon systems ready for when we arrive in range."

The sensors operator raises an eyebrow. Is all that really necessary?

Kalanok thinks on the matter for a few seconds. Either way they will have been waiting for us, he says. For now shields up, PBA probes away, and ready the artillery crews.

A grand chorus of tasinehdaos! ring out across the bridge as the orders are carried out. The results of said orders, however, are much easier to discern for those observing the small Pordish contingent than those on the bridge - vast clouds of small spherical objects begin flowing away from the large battlecruisers to take up positions above and below their plane of transit while the biggest visual change comes in the form of what appear to be large charcoal clouds overtaking both of the primary warships, their supporting craft, and all of the space in-between them. Power output spikes, but such things aren't all too unexpected for fleets prepping for combat. What would perhaps be odd, however, would be the nature of the spikes as it would seem the bulk of the power is being funneled into the combined shielding... Or rather at least that is all that can be easily detected.


VRZ Glacierrend
Battery Chelyb; 6,500cm PSKRs; Glacierrend Artillery

Orders coming down, guys, Nokytak Chelyb - the battery commander - states rather bluntly. He's been bored (these damn guns are boring, and so is this damn patrol), but now it would seem that things are about to liven up. We're already receiving targeting info. Kalanok wants the usual.

A number of groans emanate from the crowd. Anti-fleet firing patterns? one of the Pords, a red-cuffed captain of artillery, questions.

Yea, we're using smart munitions here. Be prepared to fire here soon. We're well within an AU.

A few more groans and perhaps even a yawn saunter forth. Chelyb shrugs. Make sure your damn guns're ready to shoot when he orders, he says forcefully.

The various Pords salute and make their way to their specific positions. They disappear through myriad corridors and into hatches as they scurry to their battlestations; around them massive shells, larger than some smaller ships, are hauled into position and readied. At other stations stores of power are double and triple-checked. Nothing will be left to chance. Chelyb visits each gun station under his command personally to reinforce morale; computer screens and fancy devices are no true replacement for interacting with the troops. Each station is a half-sphere blister with individual passageways through which to enter - visiting many can be a hassle (the turrets are more akin to buildings in scale) but some things are worth the effort. He comes upon the piece commanded by the artillery captain from before: he enters.

nam-Chelyb, we know what we're up against?

Chelyb shrugs. I don't have specifics, he says.

The artillery captain nods. Fair enough. The artillery captain salutes and Chelyb returns it.

The deployment had been rather rushed. But as long as they aren't some fleets... Well, Kalanok would've told them had they been the adversary. And probably brought with him a couple more ships. Or a thousand. Chelyb gives a really slight grin and nods to the artillery officer. Don't want to miss tonight's dinner. Spoke with our chef and he's cooking up a real good feast, Chelyb says.

Tasinehdao nam-Jloknam! the artillery officer replies. I'll be there, he says.

Chelyb pats his fellow Pord on the back and makes his way out of the gun battery. He heads deeper into ship - to his overall battery command post. As per standard Pordish fashion, he has twelve guns under his direct command and hundreds of crew. On ships such as this one there can be thousands of similar twelve-gun batteries dotting the turbulent surface. For obvious reasons the VRZ Glacierrend, a smaller nam-Cholkük type battlecruiser, that number is closer to the mark at the lower end of the spectrum. But it is still an appreciable number and it is quite the impressive task to keep everything in order. Where some more intellectually primitive nations might slave all of their systems to an AI the Pords find such machinations redundant and only fall back on such crude methods when they are forced. Fortunately (for all involved) real space battles with FTLi hemming things in do not threaten this status quo.

For his part Chelyb and his boys have been told to train the barrels of their guns towards one of the larger ships in the hostile formation - a craft sensors have placed in the dozen kilometer range bracket. Kalanok has given clearance for all of Glacierrend's batteries to be trained against the Black Sun forces while the batteries of his own vessel, the VRZ River Fortunate are to engage the Mürympskyan. For now his battle has turned into one not all too unlike those of the higher-ups: a console war fought behind screens and displays. He looks at one in particular with a focused attention; it is a range display and a counter detailing how long it will be before they are to open fire...


And Winter Brings the Jlokstazh
VRZ River Fortunate, nam-Cholkük type Battlecruiser

Helmsman, ease our course from this angle, Kalanok orders. He motions to his displays and jots out the course himself manually to clarify. Keep our speed at maximum sublight.

Tasi, the helmsman says. Coming onto course, maintaining full sublight cruise.

Full battlestations, gentleman. It's about time we got this show on the road. Kalanok moves a few parcels of information around on his displays. The other ships in the formation will appreciate the notification. As much as he'd like to succeed here with his ship only he is acutely aware of the intertwined nature of the modern VRZ. He looks to the sensors operator; she has cocked her head and appears to be noting something.

nam-Kalanok, it seems that our Houseidou allies have arrived in-system only slightly behind us. They appear to be taking up battle order, she says. She nods matter-of-factly but proceeds to double check the scans anyway. It looks like they will be our nearest assistance.

Welcome them to the theatre, comms. Kalanok orders.

Tasi, hozhna, comes a reply. A short message is sent to the Houseidou forces welcoming them to the theatre and thanking them for the assistance. It also details the current positions of other GESO forces in the area and goes on to state that due to our advanced relative positioning, our two fleets will be the tip of the spear.

Kalanok, though, looks to his second in command. Bridge is yours, he says, and dismisses himself out of the chamber.

He passes through the heavy doors at the rear of the chamber and makes his way into the corridor. Within a few turns he arrives at a small shrine - the River Fortunate Shrine. He clears his mind and kneels before before it. The metallic surroundings begin to fade away and a cool breeze begins to overtake the area. A light wisp of snow enters first, and then a large torrent - but not an all-consuming torrent, but just a flood in a pattern around him. At his feet the ground cools and takes the form of tundra and as he looks out he can see nothing but the wind and the snow and the ice for kilometers all around him.

Battle is nearly upon us, nam-Kalanok DritteJloknam, a voice calls out from the cold.

Yes. And this threatens to be our first engagement in some time that is more than putting down brigands and pirates, he says.

The worlds here, they are not inviting to our kind.

I know, he says, but we are here and now we must fight.

Only through the guidance of Rekazhnar's Spear can victory be visited upon us, the voice calls out again.

By his eternal grace and superiour vesselmanship, Kalanok says.

Yes. Let him guide our bows. Only then will victory not elude us, the voice calls.

Kalanok scans the horizon. The snows and the ice and the wind are constant. They beat down upon the frozen ground with a staunch determination almost seeming as if they wish to rend it from its own terrestrial prison to free it and lift above and into the grand skies of Jlokhemit. Kalanok inhales deeply. Victory will not elude us, he says.

You are correct. Victory will not elude us, the voice, indistinguishable from Kalanok, replies.

nam-Kalanok to the bridge, a metallic voice rings out. It is jarring and clashes with the environment. Kalanok sighs and looks out across the tundra once more. He quietly thanks himself for the conversation, places a small offering at the shrine, and makes his way back to his command post.

nam-Kalanok, it is Pataaq. He is on-screen.

The sensors operator interjects: Our sensors are going haywire with high-level readings, she says, to which the communications officer continues:

Yes...

nam-Pataaq..? What is the situation?

Pataaq bows. The high level readings we are seeing are not just any regular FTL-entry signature, Pataaq says. He looks out at his displays and points to the various warships sliding into coherent space-time at the edge of the system: a small host of Maya types. A frown etches across Pataaq's face as he looks over their entry. These signatures are temporal in nature, he says, confirming the hunch of Kalanok's own sensors operator.

What the hell..?

The signatures do not sync with known-vessels from this timeline nor are they giving off temporal readings consistent with warships from this timeline, Pataaq continues.

I don't have ti -

Intercepted communique, nam-Kalanok, the communications officer says.

Bring the message up, Kalanok orders.

The message is played in full for all to witness. These forces have come to bring war to GESO elements in-system. How... Peculiar. Kalanok raises an eyebrow. Like most of the ship-captains and higher-ranking members of von Begin's 8th Fleet, he had become privy to rumours... Rumours of a great temporal abnormality - they type of which has not been witnessed by Pords since the days of the CAS and before them the Concordiat. But this one was different. It was all-consuming. It was more... Complete. Or so it was thought.

Message Glacierrend and tell them to avoid firing on the Maya forces, Kalanok orders. Thank you Pataaq for the rapid update. While you're here, is there anything other of note?

Not right now, Pataaq says and salutes. His hologram fades and Kalanok can only shake his head. The day promises to be a long one.

nam-Kalanok, also, before the Maya came... We received word of incoming enemy fire.

At this range? Kalanok questions. His frown breaks back into a less-irritated gaze and he looks at the deployed forces. Nature?

Slugs and missiles, nam-Kalanok. Nothing particularly exotic, the sensors operator says.

Return fire then, Kalanok says, make motions for counter-battery fire and by Jlokhemit, knock down those incoming shells.


VRZ Glacierrend
Battery Chelyb; 6,500cm PSKRs; Glacierrend Artillery

Loud alarms ring forth in the battery command center - incoming artillery fire! Prepare for counter-battery fire! Nokytak Chelyb takes all the commotion in stride. He has been here before. With a single movement over his own displays he order his men to fire and they do so. As ordered, they fire upon the Dominion of Black Sun fleet with their batteries; the vast 6,500cm PSKR artillery pieces, deluging 4-part kinetic impactors a fraction of a pace below light-speed, open up in grand sequence of four.

Thwoom! Thwoom! Thwoom! Thwoom!

Four rounds are loosed from each gun within the Pordish host and then the silence of the void overtakes them. But only just - another salvo is loosed as well and this one follows on the heels of the the first:

Thwoom! Thwoom! Thwoom! Thwoom!

In the void, the veritable cloud of guided shells emerges from the depths of the charcoal-tinted Array shielding surrounding the Pordish formation and heads to their targets - the various warships making up the Dominion and Mürympskyan fleets.

Cease fire, Chelyb orders. The orders crash through his ranks and the men follow without question. Kalanok wanted two salvos to be fired, and only then will free fire be allowed. Chelyb takes this too in stride and can only wait for the results of the first salvos.

The battery commander can just about imagine the torrents of sickly green smoke pouring forth from the funnels somewhere far above him. As the ship moves through the void he can just about see how the trail of rift smoke betrays the movement of his ship - where she has been and where she will be. A truth, that the ships of the High Hunter's Navy are eager to maintain. They have come to love their funnels and the rift which courses through them. For them though things have not always been this way. The rift has not always been as accepting.

It is only in these times that the Pords have come to master its intricacy and hatred.

Chelyb looks to the displays once more. He can see the indicators of hostile ordnance nearing the formation. May Jlokhemit protect us, he considers to himself.

[Novaya Equestria]

Above Armanya, Lunar System
Orion Arm, Nebula Galaxy
Novayan Confederation Space

Three fleets began to gather at the Armanya Spacedocks as transport ships began to assemble around them. "Attention! Defenders of the Novayan Confederation, this is Admiral Daniel Yuroshita! We have been gathered today to be sent to a system which was under assault by the New United Morimpan Federation. Our goals is not to aid either side, but to monitor everything and protect those that wanted to escape from that war. We will be bringing members of the Novayan Red Cross and negotiators to transfer those unjustly treated. Once we arrive, we'll inform all parties of our intentions here. Viva la Novaya! Viva la Salta! Viva la Vida!" Admiral Daniel said as the troops said the three last sentences.

The Novayan fleets then began to head towards a few Wormhole Stations as they wait for three wormholes to open. The Wormhole Stations soon opened up the three wormholes, allowing the fleets to head to the Rastho System.

Near the Rastho System

Three wormholes opened up as the Novayan fleets exited it. Upon arriving, Admiral Daniel sent a message to all parties involved.

Code: Select all

Attention, all parties. This is Admiral Daniel Yuroshita, commander of the Novayan peacekeeping force sent by Admiral Borealis Norsoutha. We have come here to monitor the situation, establish refugee camps, distribute humanitarian aid supplies, care for the wounded and ill, and also prevent more deaths. I await your response, everyone.

[Olimpiada]

---

Orbit of Eridu, Rastho Prime

---

"The fuck do you mean there's humans down there?" asked Foloi, his tone a strange combination of excited at the discovery and enraged at the associated implications. "That shouldn't be. Uncharted human colonies are as far apart as they are few, everyone knows that. Maybe they're just similar and the cameras need cleaning?"

Archea shook her head. "Nope. Had the lenses polished not a day before we left. The only thing that could be harming our resolution at this point would be a micrometeor impact, and the shields should be preventing those."

"Damn." He opened his eyes wide, then blinked them hard. "Well, I suppose we should have a lo-" He was cut off as the FTL sensor went off. They both rushed over to it. "Signal came from about ten light minutes out. Looks to be using an advanced jump drive of some sort."

"Please, everyone knows that the jump drive type FTL has been perfected for centuries. There is no "advanced" version," said Archea, shaking her head. Foloi didn't respond. His jaw hung open as he looked at the telescope view for the jump area, witnessing the light show after its brief ten minute trip across the system. Archea rushed over. "How long until we can jump out." It wasn't a question, it was a statement. Ships hundreds of kilometers long weren't a joke.

Foloi had run out of the room, and could be heard working in the cockpit, his fingers dancing over the controls. "Not sure. Do they have FTL inhibitors?"

She quickly checked. "Nope, space is unchanged. We're probably out of range." There was no warning when the ship jumped, the re-entry into the space surrounding Cobalt grinding on the metal as the still-hot FTL drives caused minor spatial distortions around them. A disgruntled Ciro Lalas could be heard storming up the stairs behind them.

"The hell was that?" he asked, throwing his hands up in a gesture of exasperation. "I thought we were going to be here for a day, and I get tossed out of my bunk like a sack of rice. Least you could do was offer up a warning."

"You didn't see it," said Foloi with an intense stare.

"So what if I didn't see it, whatever it was. Can't have been that-"

"YOU DIDN'T FUCKING SEE IT." Archea broke up the argument in advance by presenting Lalas with a tablet showing a statue the size of a small moon carrying a severed head, backed by a thousand years of Mayan history flashing in the void. Lalas looked visibly shaken.

"I'm going to bed, wake me up when the universe is normal again."

---

Three Leaders, Gaia

---

"Very well President Cyrenacius, why did you assemble us here today? You seem to be hesitant to release any information, something which we do not take kindly to." Cephalus Baris stared down past rows upon rows of attending clergymen in the polished black granite chairs from his seat in the upper level of the Kliroswith contempt.

"I called you here to discuss a threat not only to our security as a nation, but to a group of humans greatly in need of our help," he said. Cephalus smirked. This man knew nothing about the security and theology he claimed to so readily understand. At the end of the day, Alexios Cyrenacius was merely a bureaucrat, and despite him belonging to the Church of Man's Divinity, he had never attended the church's theological academy on Emerald, and as a result would never truly understand the role of the divine in their lives. In Cephalus's estimation, this made him worthless.

"Go on." Cephalus was willing to humor him. He had nothing better to do today, though those attending by quantum entanglement and only present via their holograms obviously did.

"Three hours ago, I received a report from Cobalt Ascendancy Covert Operations, specifically Hand 135. They had been assigned a reconnaissance mission to the system of Rastho Prime to investigate the recent destruction of several Ellian warships. Many of you have likely heard about this on the news." His voice echoed around the large room. "The part you didn't hear about is Rastho Prime 7, or Eridu if you prefer." He made a quick motion onto his tablet, projecting an image of a small city onto a hologram floating in the air behind him. He let the image slowly zoom in. "Rough estimates say it was colonized a few hundred years ago, leaving it technologically primitive." The zoom finished, showing two humans sitting by a window having a conversation of some sort. "In fact, it was colonized by humans."

The room exploded into shouting as each person seemed to think that everyone wanted to listen to what they had to say. The truth was, no one did. Cephalus decided to break the cacophony by using his tablet to play a loud buzzing sound into his microphone until they stopped talking and started clutching at their ears instead. He shut it off."Who cares? They're noncombatants, and they should be able to defend themselves with ground forces and nuclear missiles. It's none of our concern. Maybe you'd rather inform BlueSky Industries or someone, they seem to love primitive nations."

"This is why," said Alexios. He replaced the image of the people with the image of the stone statue. The room was so quiet that one could hear a pin drop. One could also hear a single man quietly ask "what the fuck that thing was", the man in question being an utterly terrified Cephalus Baris.

"That thing is the reason we need to step in."

Someone else stood up, the Church's representative from Clockwork. "What can we do against that? It's the size of a moon. A moon!. We can't handle it, not as lacking as we have allowed ourself to become. Mankind may certainly be god, but we would need it entirely working together to accomplish a task this gargantuan."

"Shut. Your. Mouth." Alexios's tone made a distinct shift from that of a bored politician to a zealous militant. "If we don't protect them, who the hell will? The Morimpans who are currently raining atomic fire down on New Vulcan and likely to move on to every populated world in the system? Or perhaps the xeno loving bastards in the GESO? Maybe you'd rather that we let the ones with the imagery of ritual sacrifice and the giant statue do it? They seem like friends."

"I just-"

"I said shut it. We're the only ones competent enough for this, and you all know it. Our armies are the finest this side of the Scutum-Centaurus arm, our navies have the firepower to rend larger ships into a cloud of shrapnel and xeno blood, and they are both PERFECTLY suited to this task. I'll leave you fine folks to vote." He turned, and walked out of the room, his footsteps echoing around the room as he did so.

---

Orbit of Eridu, Rastho Prime

---

The Olimpiadan fleet appeared quickly, white flashes dotting the area around Eridu as ship after ship entered the system. Alex Golias wanted to see how close they had gotten to their destination before FTL interdiction locked them out, but he wasn’t allowed to move right now. Unfortunately, he got to stand at attention in rank and file with the other infantry across a dozen transports, watching a hologram of Admiral Nassos talk about their duty in battle, as well as their role as divine parts of mankind.

It wasn’t anything Alex hadn’t heard before. The military leadership would always try to say something inspiring before battle, and once again, they were failing. It was more likely that the blessing by the priest that came after would do far more to moralize the troops. He brought himself out of his thoughts. The Admiral seemed to be wrapping up.

“... WE SHALL FIGHT! WE SHALL SUCCEED! AVE HOMINUM!”

He drew the short sword belted on his left side with his right hand, thrusting it into the air as thirty thousand other soldiers in the same room did the same.

“AVE HOMIMUM!” went up the cry in response. Alex frowned slightly. Even an algorithmically generated speech would have been better. The Admiral needed to get a better writer than himself, evidently. He supposed it didn’t matter now. Olimpiada was in the system, and it was time for it to get to work.

[Ella2 6]

It Tolls For Thee

Rastho Prime
ESS Temple of Orion
Admiral Ray Jefferson

"Missiles and slugs, incoming."

The scanner lit up with was a simple plain text message and red arrows pointing towards an outline of the Temple of Orion before the helmsman. Alert! Torpedoes to starboard. Without warning, the clone pilot banked the vessel hard to right whilst pulling up. The Venator responded swiftly; gracefully pitching to the upper right of its plain of reference, leaving an arc of blue ions trailing in its path. The missiles sailed past harmlessly, piercing through the faded blue clouds left in the ship's wake.

Alert! Torpedoes fore'ard.

The following waves of munitions were mostly brought down by the point defence systems after being slowed by the ship's powerful energy shields. Activity on the bridge was hectic as always when in combat, with each station relaying orders to departments below. Streams of data were fed into rapidly into the starship's multiple processors and relaid to the main screen to keep the Admiral updated on all significant developments across the system.

"Tubes one to three, standby for target alignment."

Ray narrowed his eyes at the visual relay of the enemy fleet, pointing out key targets for the Ellians to concentrate their firepower on. He selected a particularly large Morimpan vessel which scans assumed to be either a dreadnought or a battleship. While he doubted that was the command vessel of the Morimpan fleet, he recognised it as a vital target, one which needed to be removed from the playing board promptly.

"Tubes one to three, you are cleared to fire."

A faint boom set the bridge trembling as the three mass drivers accelerated torpedoes simultaneously at the Morimpan starcraft. The torpedoes ignited their engines as they left the tubes, further accelerating themselves and correcting their flight course as their target shifted its position in the void. Countless streaks of blue crossed the infinite expanse of the void between the two forces, all locked on to a collection of large Morimpan warships.

"Torpedoes away!"

"Admiral, there's an unknown energy signature appearing on the edge of the system," the Observer announced, "it looks big." The observer peered through a set of telescopic lenses. "Morimpan superweapon?"

"Wouldn't surprise me," Ray replied, narrowing his eyes at a large crimson vortex that has appeared in the indicated direction. "Helm, prepare us to move. Battery, train all guns on that... thing and be prepared to fire." He recoiled in surprise as starships emerged from the bloody portal. The emergence of starships was no surprise. No. That was at least half expected. What did surprise the Admiral was the sheer size of it. He muttered religious curses under his breath at the sight of the massive starcraft. The words, like the man, were transfixed by awe, he rapped sharply on the metallic surface of his command station to get the attention of his crew, though mostly to bring himself out of the trance-like state. "Lads... Gents! Come on, get this ship moving. Back to work!"

The crew, which had also ceased work returned to their normal duties with haste. "Are they friendly?" One of the clones stationed at the gunnery station asked uncertainly.

Ray turned to regard him baefully. "You best start praying that it is."

---

A Clone Apart

On route to Rastho Prime
ESS Mistakes Don't Erase Themselves, Do They?
Clone Commander 'Rosie'

CC-075, or 'Rosie' as her friends called her, was one of the first batches of female clones the Dominion produced. They, like their male counterparts, were genetically modified, combat fit soldiers of the Dominion. But, unlike the average clone soldier, female clones were raised with slightly different training and specialised in certain fields. Some things, women just did better than men and, apparently, the Dominion believed that enough to commission a test batch of female clone soldiers. It appears that one of those things seemed to be leading the Dominion's brave soldiers on the battlefront.

Rosie smiled as Clapper recalled the last time Pivot and Mace duelled in knife and needle. "The ol' sarge was right fast as he is. You should have seen it!" He told her, "I just clapped and away they go! Didn't even need me to say another word." Knowing, Clapper, Rosie knew that he said something anyways. "Regardless," He continued enthusiastically, "The ol' Sergeant was the fastest to react; lunged at Pivot here with his knife like this." Clapper mimicked a quick jab at a phantom dummy. "But Pivot was right quick too! Dashed to one side, blocked the ol' Sarge's knife and tripped the man over."

"Oh, really?" Rosie asked, feinting disbelief, "How'd he manage that?"

"Be quacked if I know," Clapper replied, "but you should have seen it. The ol' Sarge barely got the wind choked out of him, and he was back at it: Flicked his knife out and went for Pivot's hind knee, deadly quick he was. Would have been checkmate, right there and then, had the Commodore came down and had a big go at 'em. Had a big go at me too."

"Had a 'big go' at me too after it too," Rosie muttered. She knew the man much better than Clapper and the others. It only caused her to dislike the man much more than the others. The Commodore was an atypical commander of the Ellian Starforce, a man who hated clones with a passion. While most Ellian commanders get along rather well with their fellow starsailors, Commodore Bradley had a very turbulent relationship with his crew. Rosie could only say that she was glad to be off his ship, and she had a vague suspicion that this sentiment was echoed by the spiteful Commodore.

"Oh did he?" Clapper tilted his head, an expression of surprise replaced his usual smile, "I thought he liked you."

Rosie brushed the notion away, "Oh no-" Clapper stopped her before she could continue.

"Looks like somethin's happenin'," he said, jerking a thumb in the direction of the duelling ring.

Rosie followed his gaze. The 'ol' Sarge,' a clone that went by the name 'Mace,' stood cross-armed before his platoon, addressing the gang of convicts that were being transported aboard their ship. They were a nasty lot. If Rosie had to pick her poison between them and the man Bradley, she would gladly choose the Commodore. And that's saying a lot in itself considering her opinions of the man, and of course vice-versa. It appeared that Mace was discussing the lots to be placed on a duel between the two forces.

"Loser buys the winners drinks, for the rest of the day," Mace offered, extending his hand out to seal the deal with their challengers. Clapper nodded in approve beside Rosie, muttering something about how "they simply can't refuse the offer."

"This is why I dislike clones," The leader of the rabble scoffed. He was a rather big man, tall and broad in the shoulders. His muscles were toned by years of labour and his belly gave hit to the fact he drank a fair bit. His next statement annoyed Rosie and his final comment set her cheeks aflame. "You fight like girls," he declared, letting the remark hang in the air for a brief moment before continuing. "You bet like girls too!"

Rosie, red-faced with anger, fired back in reply. "Excuse me, Sir?" She yelled in challenge and proceeded to push her way to the front of the golden striped platoon. Her comrades attempted to give way but were shoved aside by the enraged Commander. Taking her helmet off and holding it by her side, Rosie stood with the majority of her weight on one foot and her free hand placed on her hip. Every inch of her radiated anger. "I happen to like being a girl."

There was a moment of brief confusion within the penal battalion, but they recovered quickly. Almost too quickly. The Ellian sergeant smirked at Mace as the clone glared at him in return, obviously, he too was irritated by the man's remark and his attempts of not displaying that irritation has failed. "Winner keeps the girl," the thug said quickly and seized Mace's hand, pumping it up and down enthusiastically before the clone could react. The Butternuts cheered as their chief stole the show and, more importantly, set the stakes in their favour.

Rage soon gave way to fear as the penal sergeant cracked a wicked grin at the clone commander, a grin much more akin to a wolf flashing its barred teeth than an earnest smile. Rosie resisted the urge to back away; to put distance between herself and this man. Or perhaps shrink behind the wall of her comrades. In the back of her mind, the implications of a clone defeat in this duel were only beginning to sink in. Reaching for her combat knife strapped to the small of her back, she steeled herself against his withering gaze and prepared for the battle to come. She would take the field herself.