The Democratic Commonwealth RP Board [FT|IC|Closed]

[Pillowlandia]

This initial post is largely place holder for now, but this is the thread for all of the new FT RP to be posted as we restart the RP.

The thread is for members of The Democratic Commonwealth only. enjoy.

Our Map (v.1) is available to view here.

[Pillowlandia]

HMS Caladbolg
Deep Space

---

“Captain on deck!”, came the call from the officer of the deck and the various men in the compartment all rose towards the passageway.

“I have the bridge. Thank you Collins. Caomhnóir, update tactical feed on the main tank. At ease everyone.” He responded, walking towards the large table which jutted upwards from the floor as it came to life and bathed the room in a blue glow. He frowned as he glanced about the image, evaluating the alien space the Caladbolg found itself in. He lowered his hand to a plate on the edge of the table, which lit up beneath his hand.

“Commander Hiram Bagley, Imperial Commonwealth Navy, Captain of the Caladbolg. Authorized.” The robotic response came, a faint mechanical rumbling as the ship began to unlock its munitions which had remained laid up in their storage facilities for over three thousand years. A projection of a cube appeared above the table, slowly spinning and pulsating as small segments of its surface rose and fell randomly.

“Captain, I have preliminary targeting solutions on the craft. They are exchanging fire with one another and traveling towards us. Additionally, I have just become aware of a special cargo you need to know about.” Caomhnóir’s disembodied voice came from around the room, making the compact space sound larger than it was.

Hiram waved the AI off, shaking his head. “Worry about the cargo later, what can you tell me about our capabilities currently? What about theirs?”

“Captain, you should consider our cargo immediately it is of vi-” Caomhnóir began, his cube jittering in agitation.

“Don’t mind him too much Caomhnóir, his focus is where it ought to be with his training.” A new voice said, cutting through the low murmur of the bridge with a precise delicacy that everyone heard no matter how engrossed in their work they might have been.

Everyone on the bridge turned to look at the figure silhouetted by the light streaming in from the main passageway outside. It stepped forward slowly, the blast door sliding shut silently. He wore a simple working one-piece the same as anyone else aboard the warship. The fabric was adorned with no insignia of rank nor name, but instead a singular lapel pin in the shape of a phoenix. The phoenix itself was black, a black so black that it almost sucked the light from around itself, and affixed with a thin border of gold and platinum.

The entire complement of men aboard the bridge fell to their knee at once, their heads all bowed. Even Caomhnóir made his avatar do a bow, as the room was as silent as it had been for their journey once more.

“As you were gentlemen, I am only royalty. Captain, capture those vessels. I want information.” He said, his voice even as he came closer.

Hiram looked the man over, more a boy really. His face was still youthful, and his eyes were bright with both curiosity and confidence. “Your high- Majesty, I was not aware that you had graced our vessel with your most holy presence.”

“Please, call me Caoimhín. We’ll be working far too closely to be bothered by such clumsy titles. I’ve read the full briefing.”

Hiram frowned for a moment, glancing between the kid and the display several times. “As you wish. In that case, you are aware we have two contacts both engaging each other and bound to intercept us. Their construction is clearly different but of highly similar style. Both are less than one hundred meters. Our current state makes us look little more than an asteroid at the moment, and we are traveling at approximately a fifth of C. Their speed is likewise our direction.” He turned towards Caomhnóir, “Inform the complement to prepare for boarding action. I want you and fire control to get me solutions for disabled craft.”

“How efficient Commander Bagley. How efficient.” Caoimhín smirked, I will be awaiting the capture of these craft from your quarters Ceannasóir Bagly.”

---

“Lt. Jeffgay foglad, Priority message from CIC. New contact, origin unknown bearing 14 degrees starboard. It’s big and old. Might we have happened upon their base?”

Jeffgay glanced over at the ensign. “Interesting. We just might have. Davis, get me targeting solutions for the spinal gun on that thing. We’ve nearly got these damn pirates run out of the sector for good.”

“Firing solution is green sir!”

Jeffgay smiled, thinking about his soon to be promotion for completing the job so well…. and the booze he would drink in celebration. It would be a good time. “Fire.” He stated, starting to cross over to the sensor station to get a better look at the new contact.

The ship lurched beneath him, a streak of light rushing away from it as the railgun projectile raced towards the pirate craft they had been hunting for weeks now. He was used to the movement of the ship when it fired, he had learned to brace himself as he felt it about to happen. Just as he began to try and recall what the cook would be preparing for today's meal once they wrapped up the ship lurched again. Then it lurched a second time. A third. A fourth.

He fell to the floor, alongside the whole of the standing crew on the bridge. Even those in their chairs had been thrown about within their restraints. The lights overhead suddenly cut off, plunging the compartment into darkness until the red emergency lighting kicked in. Even the emergency lighting however struggled, flickering briefly before settling into its steady dim illumination.

“Bradly talk, what hit us?” Jeffgay shouted as he rolled over onto his back winded.

“Sensors are down sir, all I’ve got is LIDAR. It’s not debris from the pirate, the ship didn’t break up when we killed it.” Ensign Bradly said, a scowl across her face. She fiddled with the console, resorting to hitting its side in a vain effort to restore functionality. “It might have been that old station we saw? Missed an auto-gun turret or tw-”, her face drained visibly of blood, even in the red emergency lighting. “They’re going to board us!”

shit, shit shit, I was going to be promoted!, Jeffgay thought, pushing himself to his feet. He limped to the engineering console, pushing aside the engineer sitting at its seat after checking to ensure he still had a pulse. He skimmed through the status list;

Life support….online.
Propulsion….offline.
Moscou-Brown Drive….online.
Weapons….offline.
Airlocks...offline.
Sensors….offline.
Status: -/critical/-

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“On Mark. 3. 2. 1. Mark!” The blast threw a shower of sparks back into the compartment and sent the section of hull flying into the ship. The edges of the hole oozed with liquid foam meant to expand and seal holes, but it was too large for even it to patch. The squad moved into the ship, their rifles up as they scanned the hallway for any resistance.

They were one of four different pods that had attached themselves to the hull, each contained a squad of Imperial Marines. Resistance was light, and most crew they came across were unarmed and disoriented. The ships engineering and security section had been secured with ease already, and last was the bridge.

The four men of the squad swept around the corner of the final passage leading to the bridge. A single bullet hit the wall behind them. Dropping into a crouch they returned fire, lighting up the hallway for a brief moment.

“Combatant neutralized.”

“Advance.”

The hatch to the bridge was sealed, so they turned to the toys in their bags. Stepping back, they ignited the charge and the door sagged in its housing and fell inwards. They rushed forward, “Imperial Commonwealth Marines! Hands visible or you will be shot!” they shouted.

The bridge crew remained disoriented and confused, Jeffgay simply looked aghast as he saw the black armored figures step onto his bridge. It was more than he could handle. “DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU LOT OF PIRATES HAVE DONE! This is a ship of the Velonian Navy! The GRAND IMPERIUM OF VELONIA WILL HAVE YOUR HEADS! YOU DARE TO DEFILE MY SHIP YOU BU-” A single burst of light illuminated the room, as Jeffgay fell to the ground clasping his knee.

“Anything else you care to blabber about?” I am Ard-Mhion-Oifigeach Nuadha O'Leary of his Majesty’s Imperial Commonwealth Marines. I work for the Ard Rí of Cenaesia, you can say nothing of the sort peasant. What is the name of your ship? Answer reasonably before I shoot your other knee.”

“VSS Hawkstatek-Gwiazdowy, CPC-44998.” Jeffgay sputtered out, his face grimaced in pain. “You must think I’m stupid… the Cenaesians haven’t had a monarch since they fled the Awful Ones. Sure play the part well though, all that old shit you’re pretending to know how to use.”

Nuadha stepped close to Jeffgay, pulling off his helmet. “Let me help you….”

“Jeffgay, Lt. Jeffgay foglad.”

“Very well, Jeffgay. I have your ship under my control. My ship is capable of scrapping this thing you call a warship without even waking me up from cryo. But the thing is, the place we were supposed to touch down at is a massive asteroid field. So tell me, how’d that happen?”

Jeffgay gazed into Nuadha’s eyes, smiling. “Why, all current and future members of the Party know what happened. The old cenaesians had claims to this systems planet, and the new ones tried to settle it. So the glorious leader blew up the planet. Used the last of the old bombs for it, but it was worth it. They still act like they’re the most powerful ones around but these days they don’t even control their own trade. The Party made sure of that.”

“Is your FTL drive functional?” Nuadha asked, forcing his face to remain straight. God I want to shoot this fool. Its surprising he made it past birth with such idiocy.

“Only members of the Party may authorize the use of the Moscou-Brown drive. Who even calls it an FTL drive? Only the poor illiterates even remember such a old phrase. Without me the drive won’t work. You can’t kill me.”

“Is your entire ship party members?”

“All citizens of Velonia are members of the party.”

Nuada glanced towards the doorway, “Mion-Oifigeach Ohno, Toss him out the airlock. I’ve no need for him.”

Ohno nodded, slinging him over and beginning to walk towards the nearest airlock he had seen on the way to the bridge.

“WAIT NO! I’m important! I can tell you things!” Jeffgay cried, pounding his hands against Ohno’s armor.

Nuadha nodded, and Ohno paused. “What exactly can you tell me that is useful enough to keep you fed?” Nuadha asked, slipping his helmet back on.

“How to get to Cenaesian space.”

Nuadha paused, standing silently for several moments. “Take him to the brig. Round up the rest of the crew. They’ll live for a few more days at least.”

He brought his wrist up, initiating a communications link to the bridge of the Caladbolg. “Captain, the ship has been secured. Based on what I can tell, the ship is in rough shape but still functional. We’re clear to deploy the engineers and get the power stable. I don’t think we’ll be able to cut out the drive though. I saw a docking umbilical earlier though, looks similar to what we have onboard.”

“Excellent work Ard-Mhion-Oifigeach. Return to the Caladbolg at once. We have additional points of interest to investigate before we depart system.”

[Hydraxim Imperialis]

HNS BRESII
Near the border worlds of Hydaeus

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The ships bridge was dimly lit by the sun shining through the tinted viewing panels.The sleek interior black surface seemed to mirror the burning yellow behemoth before them. A small man dressed in a grey drab uniform was standing observing the magnificence of the sun while the rest of the crew lulled silently, droning away on various tablets and computer mechanisms. The sliding doors on the far wall opened to reveal two men dressed in black with silver tubes tracing various parts of their body before seemingly vanishing under the skin, and a single man dressed in ragged clothes with a long beard. The man formerly admiring the star turned with a small look of disgust upon noticing the raggedy man. “What is the peasantry of Velonia doing upon a Hydaeun warship.” In actuality the man looked no where near like a Velonian, his black dress shirt resembled times of old, much like parties in the sky that the founders told his great grandfather.

“Hehm Toun, We found this man trapped in a cargo room, he hasn’t said much and continues to moan of burns and scars that we can’t find. Sire, we believe he was a stowaway potentially from our last visit to the borderworlds but it is unknown.”
Hehm Toun began casually walking to the man, who now fell to his knees at the sight of the stars.

“Where are you from Outrider?” He asked, grabbing the man’s chin, forcing his eyes from the world beyond and instead to garner his focus to him and him alone. The man could do nothing but let out faint murmurs and catch his breath.

“Das Tons… Has Mavans… Hydraxii...” The man whispered. Toun was taken aback by the last of the murmurs.

“What do you know of Hydraxim.” He said with a curious but defensive tone.
A disembodied voice began booming over the speaker overhead. It was a deep, monotone voice strung together through precisely measured notes. “This man's DNA is on no official record, there is no trace, not even the Mavraei can find records of him.”

Toun stood, rubbing the underside of his neck and letting out a sigh. “Who are you.”

The disembodied voice interjected once more after moments of silence, “Hehm Toun, buoy 31 in sector 10 has reported status;” the voice changed to a young female voice and a small projection of video feed was placed on the windows, which darkened even farther to block out the sun.

“ unknown forces engaged with a single Velonian vessel. Aria; Communications AI XI, requests immediate action to be taken on behalf of the Third Hydaeun Nïes to secure its claims to the Vastian Space.”

Toun began rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Make preparations to jump to buoy 31, direct link please.” The AI returned to the deeper voice of a man.

“As you wish, sire.”

“It seems our guest will have to wait until we are less occupied.” The rugged man was dragged back out of the room. Toun began to pull up a variety of information on what were formerly window panels, but now rest a deep black as if they were only ever displays. A soft white light began illuminating the bridge once more, and the crew was visibly in a hastened pace. “If only Hydarxim could see us today…”

[New Velonia]

Velonian Congress
Alasia City, Planet Dion
Ninus Star System, Nationalist Hawkist Imperium of New Velonia

The vexatious squeak of clean shoes echoed throughout the halls as David Hearst hurried down the ominous corridors of the Grand People's Velonian Congress.

Hearst was born to modest means, his family arrived in the outposts on Dion's moon when the great migrations first took place. After the shameful events of the Great Exclusion, his family moved to Alasia with little to nothing in terms of liquidized assets. Hearst dawned the scars of a harsh upbringing, but that is what made him a powerful man. The burden of struggle his family tortured through made Hearst unique to most in the Velonian Congress. His heart held a strong faith, his eyes saw each man as equal and respectable. His mind was idealistic, not pragmatic, and his soul lugged around an insurmountable pity for the harsh actions of the New Velonian Imperium. But he did not show these on the surface. To others, he was simply the reformist. The man that compromised against the entirety of the Party. His name was often heard with snickers and snide comments from people that expected him to be shipped off on the next ship to the sun.

But that was before the death of the Party chair all those years ago. Since the Party was left decapitated and without a leader, the process of choosing a new one made Hearst propel himself to the precipice of complete power. His movements of respect for all the humans under Velonian rule uncovered a common idea shared by the Velonian populace.

But today, Hearst is at the grasp of power. He stands among powerful men as candidates for the next Party Leader.

As Hearst opened the door, the lights and ambiance of the Congress filled him with a mixture of dreadful nervousness and excited hope. He sat on a seat, facing three other men, Jacek Winthrop, Gen. Enrick Furlough, and Jeffgay Chopiec. Each of them stared at Hearst with the same eye of hatred and vice, but with different stories.

Jacek Winthrop was a man born to lead the Party. His family traced their roots back to the original founding of the party, his ancestors once serving under Joshua Hawke himself, or so he says. His education came from the best of party-sponsored schools, and every hour of his life spent on pledging loyalty to the party and to New Velonia. Winthrop's own personal prejudice and deep hatred for all men unlike him twisted the party's teachings to a dangerous extreme. He believes that although new velonia ensures that people with hereditary illnesses are not allowed to spread such illnesses, he believes that people that act as a drain from society have no place in it. His violent hatred of all men straying from the standard velonian man of green eyes and brown hair are inferior. His violent teachings attracted a small but vocal following, and he seeks to establish control of Velonia for himself, to purify the universe and rain hell on those who stand in his way.

General Enrick Furlough had his life handed to him. Pampered from the cradle to the workplace, Furlough remains even today totally disconnected from the struggles of nowadays. From the comfort of his home and the study rooms of the great Alasian Military Academy, Furlough convinced himself that the glory days of Velonia are behind her. The stories from textbooks of Velonian society working together to annihilate every city in the socialist FPFC nation and the glory days of Velonia conquering the entirety of the Western Hemisphere in the 2100s are what Furlough regard as the golden age. The modern controversy and the vying of political power in the party reek of social decay and societal complacency. As leader, Furlough wants to launch a national movement to expand Velonia to horizons not yet seen, to place all of the known universe under Velonia's control. Only though such a campaign can Velonia sustain itself with national pride without relying on shady and pitiful propaganda and forced lessons on Velonian history. The pride of a nation will lift all of its people to liberty and freedom, and restore the good old days to Velonia.

And the third man is the unstable and infamous Jeffgay Chopiec. Chopiec was born into a rich family, and has never worked a day in his life. He sits today as an influential young man who uses his money to get what he wants. he owns many of Velonia's major trading companies and holds the government hostage at gunpoint. Whether or not large swatches of the Velonian population starve is completely up to this man and how he feels in the morning. His riches and power propelled him to where he is now, but it earned him no popular support. He wishes to enter power to enrich himself and his companies. He buys the crooked and the corrupt and uses them as pawns to get what he wants. Chopiec wants to install a government for businesses, but only for the businesses he deems as useful to his own personal interests.

These four men sit, cross-legged and waiting, in the most unstable time Velonia has faced for a while. The party is on the verge of tearing itself apart and each man is unwilling to back down from their seat of power without a fight. Many are beginning to fear a breakdown of society as the selection process begins.

Nervously they sit, watching the Party Secretary walk up to the podium to a cheering crowd before her. In the paper she holds is the answer to who will lead the party and be the 14th successor to Joshua Hawke himself. In this paper is the future of Velonia, and on that paper is the destiny of the billions of people that live under her banner.

---

Nekroah City, Episillicek Federation
Planet Upsilla, Upsilla Star System

Nekroah City is the city of a thousand jewels. Its beauty fabled for longer than Upsillian history began keeping track. Even today, its skyscrapers stand triumphantly into the sky and its lines connect its skyline in poetic beauty.

A Nekroan individual stays miles away, looking at the city from a distance in the hills. Nekroans do not have names, but this individual sensed danger from what many are fearing may be a violent confrontation with aliens, and took the initiative to travel outside the city.

Months ago, alien ships arrived and placed themselves in orbit around the planet. It was in the middle of a global war between the major nations of Upsilla. The ships simply arrived and placed themselves in orbit, silently watching the planet for unknown reasons. It did not take long for this to set panic and mayhem in the population of Upsilla. Upsillians just landed on their only moon through an international effort, and they lack the sophisticated technology needed to defend themselves against these ships if they need to. Mass migrations out of cities and population centers are pushing Upsillan society to the brink of collapse.

It is in this setting that the Nekroan individual chose to flee to the mountainside with its family. With no hope of fighting against the aliens if they grow aggressive, the individual deduced that fleeing its home may be the only way to flee bloodshed. And on this morbid day, it was proven right.

In a matter of seconds, the once-peaceful morning air was charged with an uneasy disturbance. The individual noticed something wrong, and instinctively turned to the city. Out of nowhere, a bright light came shooting down from above. No sound was heard as this light fell quickly down into the city and made its impact.

As the object hit the ground behind the skyline, the ground shook with harrowing violence. The trees all around the hillside shook so much they ripped off their branches, and everyone hiding in the hillside were thrown like ragdolls about the floor. As the shaking stopped, the Nekroan individual looked back to the city, and what he found was terrifying.

Where the skyline once stood was a plume of smoke and lightning. Buildings were still toppling and the ominous creaking and sounds of screams were audible from the city. The ground rose into cliffs and fell into ravines as it appeared that the ground broke like a sheet of thin ice. The glows of fires and from underground lava lit up the city in an orange hue. Building after building toppled and exploded into clouds of debris. In a matter of minutes, the city skyline virtually disappeared.

In horror, the Nekroan individual began scrambling his belongings and started to flee the scene of horror before him. In the individual's rush of adrenaline and in his scramble to leave, he completely ignored the sounds of screaming and shooting behind him and below the hill. He started to run just as the shadow of a Velonian fighter ship passed over him.

---

In orbit around Planet Upsilla, Upsilla Star System,
Nationalist Hawkist Imperium of New velonia

"Sir, Operation Ksiacek has begun"

"Thank you, Lieutenant" replied Commanding Officer Gerald LK Henson, Commander of the Upsillian battalion of New Velonia. He was chosen to lead this operation for his experience in the dirty work of purification. His career in this department was long, and he carries many years of mass violence under his eyes. "Are there any difficulties?"

"No, sir. We were correct to assume that they were an E-Class scourge. We have no reports of difficulty, and this cleanse is taking shorter than we calculated. I trust that we will be able to tour what's left before leaving for a checkup this week."

"Very good. I might invite my family. I think they might want to see this,". Henson pulled up a picture from one of the Velonian fighter ships of a family of Upsillans charred to a crisp from orbital bombardment. "Harry, check out this barbecue!" Henson chuckled.

With a laugh, the commanding crew flipped more switches and shot more shells at the suffering planet. Each lever was pulled with ease, even if it meant the death of millions. Each button was pressed with a chuckle, even though it meant the destruction of a priceless landmark. Each deployed fighter ship was waved off with a smile, even though they were to be used for the massacre of countless aliens. Every city that disappeared behind a billow of smoke gave the Upsillian battalion one more thing to boast about when they got home.

For the aliens below, the hell raining from above meant the deaths of their families, of their friends, and of their civilization. To the aliens from above, for the Velonians sitting comfortably in their ships and flicking switches, this was fun. It was an event of excitement, it was something you get happy when you get assigned to. Cleansing up the universe was more of a weekend excursion than a military campaign.

But this is more indicative of the nature of Velonia. Each member of the Armada Spatiale, or the Velonian Space Navy, fell in line with the same party teachings as the rest of New Velonia. The humans of Terra and Nova Terra are the prime of civilization, they are the best the universe has. The riches and the resources of the universe belong to humans alone, as every other alien is a parasite that must be cleansed or put to work to be useful for the human race.

This ideology is what guides the Armed Forces of New Velonia, it is what guided its vast expansion across the stars, and it is what is guiding the Upsilla campaign.

[United New Mahisia]

[DELETED]

[The League of Eastern Orthodox Knights]

HESV Vulpe

Parion

Libertas System

“Commander we are approaching Central Command, we are approved for docking.” Fleet Commander Kitar shifted in his seat, he felt strange sitting in the Captain’s seat.

“Thank you Lt. Park, prepare the docking port, we’re finally home.” The three month campaign in the Valyria system took it’s toll on the HESV Vulpe, with many crew members lost in the line of duty. The most significant death being that of Fleet Captain Grayson. Kitar could still hear her shouting as the rebel blasted her. But the insurgency is gone, and once again the Federation was secure.

“Commander I’ve just received word that you are to go to Admiral Ponds’ quarters as soon as we dock. He wants a full report about the Valyria incident.” said Lt. Park. The sleek cruiser drifted into the Concordia Prime’s dockyards, situated just above the planet’s atmosphere. The Commodore slowed to a stop, and attached itself to the station.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________

Kitar hesitated for a moment before pressing the buzzer outside the admiral’s office.

“Come in!” Kitar entered the room and stood at attention.

“You wanted to see me Admiral?” The Admiral looked up from his monitor and smiled.

“Oh come on Ed let’s drop the niceties, sit down! Would you like a drink?” Kitar chuckled and sat down.

“Ah Pondsy, you haven’t changed a bit since the academy. Even though you’re a big shot Admiral now. That reminds me, congratulations are in order, how does it feel to be the youngest soldier to make Admiral?”

“Well I must say it’s been a wild ride. It’s helpful when your personal friend is the Chancellor of the entire Federation of United Systems. Anyways I need to discuss the loss of your captain with you.” Kitar’s smile disappeared, his brow furrowed.

“Our ship was on a humanitarian mission, bringing supplies down to the civilians, when we were boarded by a rebel strike team. Captain Grayson and I led a battalion to fight them in the hanger. We managed to fight them off but… but she didn’t make it.”

“I’m sorry Ed, she was one of our most promising officers and I know you two were close.” Kitar stared out of the window, looking at the view of the planet below. The vast metropolis created a patchwork of light on the planet’s darkened surface.

“I tried to save her, but the incoming flak was just to heavy. I failed her.” Ponds got up from his desk and walked towards the window.

“There was nothing you could do Ed, but the issue remains that the Vulpe is now without a captain and I think we’ve found a suitable replacement.”

“Well whoever it is I’ll be happy to serve them and the Federation with pride.” Admiral Ponds smirked, opened one of the drawers, and placed a Fleet captain’s badge onto the desk.

“The replacement is you Ed, if you choose to accept it.” Kitar sat dumbfounded for a moment before speaking.

“But I let my captain die! I was the second officer on board, I should have been able to stop the rebels, instead I let my entire crew down! I’m not ready for this Admiral.”

“Listen Ed, after the Captain died you stepped up, you completed missions, and Admiral Yulan tells me that you’re responsible for breaking the rebel blockade on Valyrix. Without you this insurgency could have turned into a full blown war. You’re a hero to the Federation, there’s no one better for the job than you Ed.” Kitar took a deep breath and started pacing the room.

“Ponds you know that it’s been my dream to captain a Federation ship ever since the academy. But I just don’t know if I’m up for the task.”

“Listen Ed, you’re the best man for the job whether you think so or not.” Ponds walked towards Kitar and stood next to him with his hand on his shoulder. “You’re ready for this brother, I’d trust you with my life.”

“Very well Ponds, if those are your orders then I’ll take the Captainship.” Admiral Ponds smiled, grabbed the badge, and pinned it onto Kitar’s dark blue uniform.

“Congratulations Fleet Captain Kitar, I look forward to hearing more successes under your command.” The newly dubbed Captain Kitar turned to his Admiral and saluted.

“Thank you sir, I’ll try not to let you down.” Ponds smiled, he’s known Ed Kitar ever since he was 12, they’ve flew many missions together, including the exodus from Terra 20 years ago. To bestow his friend this great honor was a moment of great pride for him.

“I’m sure you’ll exceed all expectations, I’ve instructed your new first officer to meet you on the bridge of the Vulpe, I trust you too will work well together. You too scored very highly on the compatibility exam. Dismissed.” Cpt. Kitar saluted the Admiral one more time before heading back towards the Vulpe.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________

The sliding doors opened to reveal Cpt. Kitar striding into the brightly lit bridge. Lt. Park, a stickler for protocol, was the first to stand and salute.

“Attention! Captain on deck!” Cpt. Kitar looked around the bridge at the crew members he’s served with for so long, sharing danger and adventure. He’s always seen them as brothers, and never as subordinates.

He sighed and thought to himself, “I guess I better get used to this.” His gaze settled on a woman he did not recognize. She looked young for an officer, roughly 30 years old, with her blonde hair tied in a tight bun, typical of most female Federation officers.

“At ease comrades.” He walked towards the new officer and extended his hand towards her. “Hello there, I’m Cpt. Ed Kitar, welcome aboard Commander…?” The woman stuck out her hand and shook the Captain’s hand firmly.

“Ira, Victoria Ira, Admiral Ponds has assigned me to be your first officer sir.”

“Well we’re glad to have you on-board, I’ll need to see you in my quarters later so we can finish up the integration process, for know I’ll introduce you to the other officers and show you to your station.” They walked towards the far end of the bridge where a middle-aged man was engrossed in a mass of wires on a broken panel.

“This here is our chief engineer, Lt. Marquis. Marquis get your head out of the panel and greet your new first officer.” Marquis lifted his head and turned around, revealing strange indentations in his forehead, typical of life forms from the planet Alarin.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Commandant, I look forward to working with you.” He spoke with a heavy accent, thick and sweet sounding as if his voice were molasses.

“Thank you Lt., I look forward to be sharing this ship with you as well.” Marquis smiled, ducked below the panel, and continued his work. Kitar and Ira strode towards the front of the bridge, where two young men in red uniforms typed away at the navi-computer.

“This here is our helmsman, Lt. Mallory, and our navigator Lt. Tion. Gentleman get your asses up and greet your new boss.” Mallory and Tion stood straight up, knocking their chairs over simultaneously with a metallic clank.

“Sir yes sir!” They shouted simultaneously. Kitar chuckled, shaking his head at the tightly-wound men in front of him.

“A clumsy bunch aren’t they.’ remarked Commander Ira, helping Tion pick his chair off the floor.

“They’re a bit green, but no other duo has their kind of chemistry. Plus, Lt. Malloy’s crafty flying was the reason we managed to break the blockade outside Valyrix in the Valyrian system. Isn’t that right Mallory.” Mallory kept his rigid posture, but a glint of pride could be seen in his chocolate eyes.

“I was just doing my job sir, we had to get through the rebels somehow.”

“Good to hear that head hasn’t gotten to big Mallory. Now back to your station. Tion! Plot a course for the Kerryon system. We’ve been receiving strange signals from that sector and the admiral wants us to check it out.”

“Leaving so soon Captain?” asked Ira.

“The admiral messaged me on my personal comm. We’ve been receiving very odd signals from that system, signals that originate from technology predating the Cataclysm. We’re to go see if perhaps we can extract some useful data.” Cpt. Kites turned towards the rest of the bridge and shouted “Everyone! Take your stations, we leave for the Kerryon system!”

“Sir yes sir!” Like a well oiled machine, the crew began making preparations for the journey. Lt. Tion plugging in the coordinates, Marquis finished the final repairs on the weapons targeting panel, and Grayson got situated at her station. Cpt. Kitar sat in the captain’s seat, but this time all the nerves were gone. Ponds was right, this is where he belonged. Over the sound system a soft robotic voice spoke.

“Undocking procedure commenced.” The Vulpe drifted away from the dockyards, aligning itself for the jump. Mallory turned towards the Captain.

“Sir we’re ready to make the jump to Kerryon.”

“Let’s get on with it then.” Mallory turned back to his panel and pulled the lever igniting the warp drive.

“Warp Drive activated.”

________________________________________________________________________________

“Exiting warp speed.”

The blurred stars suddenly came into focus, to the right of the bridge, the crew could see the planet Karis, with its violet seas providing an astounding view. Kitar could not believe his eyes at the beauty of the Karis.

“Sir our scanners are picking up a strange signal coming from behind the planet.”

“What is it Lt. Park?”

“I’m not sure Sir, but it matches the signals received by central command from this system.”

“Alright let’s check it out. Mallory take us in.” Vulpe began to orbit the planet, its surface turning from a brilliant violet, to a dull purple, and finally to pitch black.

“Uh sir, you might want to take a look at this.” The viewport showed a ship of massive proportions, almost twice as large the Vulpe. Kitar’s eyes widened at the sheer size of this ship.

“Park what am I looking at here?”

“I’m not sure Sir, but the archives indicate that this particular design hasn’t been seen for nearly 2,000 years. Should we engage them?”

“Wait, I’d like to find out more. Contact central command, tell them we may need backup. Hannigan, concentrate all deflector shields to the front and ready the weapons systems. We don’t want to be caught sitting on our asses if they decide to attack. Tion, get the ship ready to jump to warp speed if we need to make a quick escape. The station of Rylon is the closest one. Park, hail then on the comm channel, open frequency, Ira and I are going to have a little chat with our ancient friends.”

“Yes sir!” Every man and woman began completing their tasks.

“Deflectors are up and weapons are ready!”

“Central command has received word, they’re sending two dreadnoughts to hang around Karis’s moon in approximately 10 minutes. We now outgun the enemy craft.” Kitar smiled approvingly, he always liked to come into a fight vastly advantaged.

“Have we been able to contact the unidentified craft?”

“Not yet, they haven’t picked up our... wait a second they’ve accepted the comm, sir you’re on.” Kitar cleared his throat before speaking clearly,

“Hello, this is Fleet Captain Ed Kitar of the HESC Vulpe. Who are you?”

[Pillowlandia]

Void Craft Gaoth
Kerryon System
Cenaesian Collective disputed territories

---

Sadb McAlister didn’t have much to her name, none of her crew did, but she never felt any sense of loss at lacking material wealth. Afterall, she knew what a heavy bank balance was like when her parents died in the accident and the insurance left her relatively rich. She had spent a few years, trying to live it up with the upper movers of the mid sized city she had been raised in but never felt at ease. Not until she had taken what money she had left and bought a hauler second hand. Most of her crew felt like that too she reckoned, least the ones willing to speak of the past. She didn’t bother asking about the ones who didn’t and they didn’t care to share.

Of course, spending all of one's money on a second hand junk rate voidcraft was hardly sound financial advice, but there was always people willing to pay for someone to move crates discreetly. One of the better ways to justify smuggling. She thought to herself, gazing out of the small circular viewport that graced her private viewing deck.

“I thought I’d find you in here.” A soft voice carried in.

Sadb tensed briefly, turning to face the newcomer with a thin smile. “Orrin, how ever did you guess my whereabouts? What do you want?”

He stepped closer, a light scowl draped over his features. “We take the jobs we take to keep the lights on and food in the mess. Not because we’re all angels. The crew wants to see their captain, they need your reassurance.”

“It wasn’t a job! It was a massacre! We transported CHILDREN to be ground up in that industrial backwater. We were told, I was told, that it was mining equipment!” Sadb sobbed, the tears rolling down her face freely now.

Orrin pursed his lips, crouching down to look the captain in the eye. “They were mining equipment, and we have enough credits to live an entire year. The universe isn’t a polite place. Never has, never will. Now get yourself together and show the crew their captain.”

Sadb opened her mouth to respond, only to be interrupted by the simultaneous beeping of her and Orrin’s slates, simple computers wore on the wrist that interfaced with much of the rust bucket of the ship unlike the neural implants of newer craft, summoning their presence to the bridge. Orrin only nodded at her, sprinting from her quarters towards the bridge with her following several moments later.

“Speak to me.” Said barked, walking straight to the holotank in the middle of the bridge and leaving the bulkhead to be closed by a random crewmember behind her. She drew to a halt to the left of Orrin, and the first officer took a half step back to position himself quite literal as her right hand man.

Kipling, her middle age but sharp eyed navigator, began speaking rapidly in a nervous spew of words. “There was a fight. Then nothin, and I moved to get scrap to sell, cause you know scrap is always useful and we can get a quick buck from it, and we real close to a yard but then when I got close I saw another ship. It was hiding ‘hind a ‘sroid and I saw it real lickey split on the graviton and got a hit by real strong ‘dar burst and the board screamed at me ‘bout a lock and the old gov box started screamin-” he paused, trying to catch his breath.

“The gov box started up?” Orrin asked, throwing a concerned glance to Sadb. “That thing hasn’t been touched since it was installed, it might just be malfunctioning Kipling, but this lock… did you get a decent look at the ship on sensors before you ducked back?”

“Shit”, came from across the bridge as a console began blinking with multiple red lights.

“Talk to me Ella, what do you got?” Sadb asked, turning slighting to look at her sensor and communications specialist.

“Those dumb Hydaeun? Yeah, just got a hit on one of their beacons transmitting jump information. Those folks we bought the new sensor suite off of did a real good job. Got no idea what they’re summoning, but it can’t be good. Has to be related to that fight.”

Sadb glanced towards nowhere as she tried to consider her options. “Show me that sensor readout of the ship that made the box go mad, and see if you can place it to anything we’ve come across.” The ‘box’ was simply that, a bundle of sensors and recorders that got fed any data from a ship that couldn’t be identified across an internal database of one of the fifty ships that had never arrived in the Elysium segment. It was expensive, but legally mandated to be carried by any Cenaesian craft and fully tax deductible. Which really meant a good fat bonus by telling those bureaucrats it had cost three times what it had. “Ella, clear the sensor alarms and keep a look out for anything else. I want to know if anything comes round this side of Karis towards our section of this asteroid field.”

The holotable projected a floating rendition of the ship that had locked them for a brief moment, though only the side that had been facing them in any real detail. Next to it was a rapidly shifting array of ships and sections of ships as the computer tried to match it to a specific ship on the box’s database. Sabd tightened her grip to the edge of the table as the rapidly shifting image began to slow and change more frequently. Finally it stopped, the second ship replaced by a simple floating “No Match.” Thank god. She thought. “Kipling, prepare to plot a course. A pirate with bigger guns than we clearly got there first. I don’t want to be anywhere near a ship asking for our papers that has a Hydaeun flag anytime soon.”
“Uh, captain. You might want to hold out on that thought for a bit. I’ve got a message on an absurdly old encryption scheme from the tight beam. Tracking origin, I’ve got some tiny drone. Relay from the ship we got a hit on?” Ella said, confused as to what she saw on her screen for the first time in years.

“Put it through on the tank.” Sadb said, cursing up a storm inside her head as she composed herself.

“Aye, its through now.” Kipling said.

“This is Captain McAlister of the merchant craft Gaoth. We carry only defensive arms.” Sadb said, frowning as the image she expected to see form on the holotable turned into simply a circle that visualized her voice waves.

The circle fell flat for several moments, before beginning to agitate. “This is Máistir na bhFarraige Bagley of His Majesty’s Imperial Commonwealth Navy. Your ship has been identified as carrying an IFF compliant with our mission identifiers. We require engineering assistance in rigging a captured FTL drive and making it ready for use. Your ship has one I presume?”

“A quite funny comedy routine, are you going to ask for all my gold next pirate?” Sadb responded, beginning to grow agitated at such a blatant forgery. “Finding an old ship doesn’t give you whatever history it came with. There is no crown and there is no Imperial Commonwealth Navy. Stop playing with me and tell me what you really want. You’ve got the bigger guns here, but I know how to drive away still.”

The pause was shorter this time, anger coming through even the abysmally low bitrate signal. “It is you who is mistaken Captain McAlister. My directives are clear, and your ship bears the markings of Cenaesia. You are legally bound to provide all necessary aid. We will transmit the codes you need to dock to our dorsal collar.”

Sadb laughed, looking towards Kipling. “Plot us a course out of system, we’re done here.”

“So help me Lugh, you are more obsteninate than the Bergcornian Emperor himself! Dock at once or so help me I will have your craft boarded by my Imperial Marines.”

Sadb paused, “Name the continents on Terra.” The voice had her attention now.

“Equestria, Edafosia, Elysia, Acquatasia, Permosia, Neochtia, Drakous, and most important Cenaesia. Would you care for me to also send you my grades from when I was five? This is a rather basic line of inquiry for a literate soul.” Came the response, a hint of confusion in its tone.

“I don’t know about your fancy title, but you’re clearly not from around here. Kipling, bring us around and prepare to dock.” Sadb said, ignoring the panicked look on Orrin’s face.

“You’ve saved my men some bullets Captain, I shall await your arrival. Long Live Lugh. Bagley out.” The holotank fell dim, and the hum of the engines ticked up in power.

“Orrin, inform the crew. Make sure they stay weary. I’m only half convinced.”

“I’m zero convinced, they are almost certain to be little more than highly schooled pirates. We are probably going to die Sadb.” He whispered into her ear before moving towards the bulkhead. He sealed it behind him as he left, and she turned her attention back towards the various sensor readouts around the bridge. I hope I choose correctly.

---

Elysium IV
Elysium System
Cenaesian Collective

---

The sunset cast a golden hue across the towering skyscrapers, its light failing to reach the ground leves of even the shortest buildings which blotted out the soil. Elysium IV was like any other planet in the Elysium system, almost filled past the brim with people of all creeds. It was the system where humanity had first arrived after fleeing Terra, and the system selected as the capital of the Cenaeisan colonization project. The planet never slept, and its vast economic prosperity rested upon the back of a caste of destitde workers and its vast space ports and shipyards that shipped more goods and built more ships than any other star system in human space. The silver phoenix of Cenaesia adorned the government buildings and craft, but was hardly a shell of its former self as the bird found itself nearly alone with its golden hued counterpart seen only in the deepest depths of the planet and long forgotten by the common man.

“Mr.President, the Velonian forces have begun to harass our shipping once more. Might I suggest that we consider making another payment to stop their actions?”

Lugus Teagan, the twenty-second president of the Cenaesian Collective, turned away from his aide with a deep sigh. “Might we also make the payment after that, and the one after that, and the next, and the next? When does the bleeding stop? When Tomás, when?”

There was a pregnant pause, Tomás carefully thought about his next words. “There are the battles you choose to fight and those you don’t. This… this isn’t one we have the possibility of even coming close to winning. We hardly have the hulls to defend our systems from pirates, let alone take on them.”

“Then we build! We have wealth, yards, and the technology to develop a fleet like we had back in the days of Terra. We could reassert ourselves as the leaders of humanity… restore the church.” Lugus said, glancing out of his office first at the sunset but then the inky depths of the streets long below.

“Election.” Tomás said bluntly, placing what had been in his hand on the president’s desk. “Now, this is the schedule and your speech for tonight's fundraiser. I’ve had your suit laid out in in your quarters. You need to schmooze with Kasumi and Mori if you have any hope of having enough money to finance the next quarter of ads. Argus has already begun running attack ads against your legislative progress.”

“Oh so fascinating.” Lugus responded, rising from behind his desk to walk towards his private chambers. “Tell me again why I ever dared to enter politics?”

“Because there was money to be made, your father threatened to disown you, you desire to legitimately better the whole of humanity and not just line your pockets, and you are far too indoctrinated by the church to allow yourself to do anything. But Argus has a point, your legislative priorities haven’t exactly panned out this term.” Tomás responded, following his boss and friend several steps behind. “You know, he wasn’t going to run until you snubbed his budget.”

“There was no way that I was going to allow him to kill off the capital police any further than it is just to help his cronies. Lines in the sand Tom, lines in the sand.” Lugus said, shrugging off his blazer as he began to strip off his normal office attire for the more formal outfit on his bed.

Tomás only rolled his eyes, turning to leave the room. “I’m serious about their support. You need the money to advertise and win over the house or the cycle is already lost.”



It was truly night now, as the artificial lighting of the planet sized city pushed back the darkness. The Capital district was bustling as always, filled with the affluent politicians and business magnates of both the Cenaesian Collective and far flung human settlements alike. Every corner seemingly held people proposing or finalizing a deal in the heart of commerce for the entire Elysium segment. Always in sight was the capital police, keeping a watchful gaze for criminals and ready to offer smiles to passerbyers and gentle help to any who had a few drinks too many. Their faces were uncovered and they were clearly human and humane. Assignment to the Capital District was cushy.

Far below they wore masks to protect their identity, and were constantly on edge with their fingers never far from the trigger in the den of degeneracy and destitution that made up most of the planets population. The lower quarters were less lower class and more closely resembled barely controlled anarchy. But that didn’t matter. None of it did to those upon the surface. Lugus barely managed to contain his disdain for most of those who resided upon the topmost layers of the ecumenopolis, but he also knew that a vast majority lived in blissful ignorance. It was those who knew continued to take no action which he truly could not stand, Argus among them. He just gazed at the people as they passed in a blur, his own person contained in a shuttle flying just over a hundred meters overhead enroute to one of the calendars largest political fundraising events of the year. The House of Cenaesia’s annual gala brought a swath of donors and politicians together under one very, very large roof.

There was a red carpet, surrounded on both sides by swarms of media and at least twice as many floating drones capturing video and images for use in their reporting to the whole of settled space. “You didn’t tell me that the entire press corps would involve a planets worth of people Tomás, this is excessive.”

“Just smile and wave, Mr.President.” He responded, reaching over and pushing the handle. The door did the rest, rising gently on a single hydraulic piston as Lugus stepped out. The focus was immediately upon the President, the most powerful man of the entire government. He walked slowly down the red carpet, stopping for photos and to shake hands with various people along the way. All apart of the job. He thought, his smile coming easily after decades of summoning it upon demand.

The gala progressed smoothly from there, patrons seated and the appetizer served by a sea of waitstaff. Lugus was sitting in a small side room, the voice of the host muffled through walls and followed by the gentle laughter the crowd politely responded with. A well oiled machine.

“It’s time.”

Lugus glanced about quickly, his thoughts broken by the tired looking event coordinator. He simply nodded and stood, being swarmed by a small group of staffers making final checks and adjustments to his attire and ensuring that his speech would be visualized in front of his eye correctly, invisible to the whole crowd. Just as always. He thought. The crowd rose and offered a round of applause as he walked onto the stage and to the podium, and he waved back with a smile on his face. He surveyed the room, glancing at each silver phoenix he saw and pausing upon it for a moment before continuing on.

“Good evening ladies and gentlemen, business leaders and politicians, heros and villians.” He paused a moment, letting the crowd give a small laugh at his joke. “Tonight is a wonderful night for the House to celebrate its accomplishments this year, and to toast to the accomplishments that will happen next year. To fundraise.” He gave a pointed look towards his colleagues this time, and they chuckled alongside the wealthy who had come expressly for that. “But most importantly, we are here to set the tone of next session. To set the goals. It is a unique opportunity for me, your President, to offer my goals and try to convince you of their grave importance to our collective well being.

I speak now because if we fail to act now, then we will have failed for all time to come. Ladies and gentlemen, please look about you at the displays of wealth. The displays of governance. For too long we have allowed the light of Lugh and the church to be left at the wayside.

We long said that it was because we had no resources to offer as we tried to survive. We have long survived and now thrived. The terrors of Terra are no more, and the adrenaline of fleeing is long since gone. We have let our morals slip by the wayside in the pursuit of profit without morals. Wealth without scruples. The church taught our ancestors that the path to eternal wealth is not paved with the injuries of the poor workers, but by the flood we make that raises all boats equally, not the one which leaves the boats of the less fortunate chained to the ocean floor.

We ought to be ashamed of ourselves! We allow ourselves to ignore the church, to say that we are a successful nation all the while we flail to gain a purchase on the ever steeper rockface. We let ourselves make what we call payments to the Velonians for protection. This is not protection! There is no threat they stop, no benefit added. They are operating a racket! A criminal racket, out of step of any meaningful measure of conduct.

They demand money to not attack our trade, yet our trade with them is but a slice of our sum. They demand money to not attack our trade, yet would not even exist had OUR ancestors offered them the capacity to travel to the Elysium Segment, had they not offered the ability to transcend the physical limitations of speed and light.

The Cenaesian is a proud nation, build by the survivors of not just Cenaesia but the whole of Terra in the image of the best which Terra had to offer. The history books feature so prominently our history because it is the best history we have to offer, the Church and State hand in hand are the path towards an existence of wealth for all and innovation for all.

Henceforth, I am reestablishing the Office of Naval Intelligence. We shall no longer tolerate the presence of pirates that prey upon our merchants. We shall no longer pay for our merchants to bring their goods to markets. We shall take back our rightful mantle as leaders of not just the descendants of Cenaesia but the whole of humanity! Ave Lugh! Ave Cenaeisa! Ave Mankind!” The crowd was largely silent, a few heads nodding but a large majority frowning or even scowling. This was not normal. Not even slightly. Lugus didn’t need it to be though, he just needed the ear of the whole collective. They would listen to what he had to say because he offered hope, something all to many of them had so long longed.

There was a wide berth around the president after his speech, as the politicians mingled with benefactors. Those he did speak with were largely quite formal and quite quick, unwilling to risk tainting their reputation after his speech. Lugus approached Kasumi, a smile at the ready.

“A very unorthodox address, Mr.President. I presume you are seeking my resources to win the upcoming bidding war against the other candidates for your position?” Kasumi began, eying Lugus wearily.

Lugus nodded, “Quite direct tonight, but yes I am seeking your help for my warchest. Politics are expensive.”

“You might as well save your breath, I’ve already decided to back the candidate who has not embarrassed himself before the entirety of the wealthy in the Elysian Segment. Not to mention, you have made the markets exceptionally anxious. Argus offers a much safer candidate.”

“Even if I offered a way to make back quite a bit before the election even happens?” Lugus began, lowering his voice despite the large buffer between them and the rest of those attending.

Kasumi looked at Lugus and laughed, “You have a very good sense of humor tonight Lugus, you and I both know that Argus won’t let you create those six divisions you wanted added to the Capitol Police. For whatever reason of his.” He finished delicately, careful of his words even in seclusion.

“I don’t want riot gear, I want warships. About oh I don’t know, ten thousand.” Lugus said, pretending to run the numbers in his head. “That make you interested?”

“You intend to get them funded how exactly?”

“Well, the navy can’t be expanded past its current authorized size. But, last time I remembered my office has full and total discretion over spending for any intelligence services that provide meaningful reports and intelligence to the government. A warship might be quite helpful in gathering meaningful reports and intelligence. Plus, I know of an intelligence service which is currently quite dire in material needs right about now.”

“You drive a hard bargain, you have my backing. My other half however will need to be convinced still.”

“Well, I think that the first check made out to you might just change his mind. Thank you Kasumi.”

“The pleasure is all mine, or might I say that of my bank account. Have a good night Mr.President.”

“The same to you Kasumi.” Lugus said, reaching out and shaking Kasumi’s hand.

---

HMS Caladbolg
Kerryon System
Cenaesian Collective Disputed Territories

---

“You cross this wire here, that terminal over there is not important, connect these two boards, sync this with the computer last…” the voices melded together just a few feet away amongst the various noises from machinery and sparks from welding filled the space. What had been an empty machine space just a few hours ago was being transformed into the new home of the Caladbolg’s newfound FTL drive. It was barely technically competent enough to propel such a large vessel, but it would suffice for now and give vastly more options to the ship for maneuvering and getting places.

The wreckage of the Hawkstatek-Gwiazdowy had been towed and docked to the bow of the Caladbolg as it was stripped of the drive and other parts. Aside from the drive, various conduits, capacitors, and other parts had been scavenged to replace critical and very aged parts which were or had failed in the more than three thousand years the ship had been traveling. The fact that the ship was in fact largely still fully functional was a testament to her builders at Moscou Shipyards, but the entirety of her missile complement had been stripped of targeting computers and jettisoned. Their fuel had gone bad, and they were at best unreliable.

Her armament of coilguns both in turreted form and her massive spinally mounted one were functional, and their ammunition the same as the day it had been stowed. Several capacitors had died in the interim, but were worked around and some even replaced by equivalents from the Velonian ship.

The bridge bulkhead opened, Nuada entering still fully garbed in his armor from his boarding and subsequent salavaing of the Velonian patrol ship. “Sir.” He stated, offering a salute to Hiram.

“At ease marine, how are the prisoners?” Hiram responded, returning the salute as he turned his attention towards the soldier.

“Still untalkative, but the ship wrecks have plenty of useful materials and components. We could be working for days to recover all we could given the chance.”

Hiram shook his head, “Not an option, we’ve got a matter of hours at best. We will make do with what we have. Give your men and yourself a break. We’ll need you sooner than later, and I need my marines at best strength. We’re in quite uncharted territory.”

“It’s actually quite well known space, just not heavily patrolled due to the claims.” Sadb cut in, an exasperated look on her face. “We really should leave now, the Hydaeun are already on their way. Cenaesian space is right close.”

“But you said that it quite a ways until we reach truly Cenaesian controlled space Captain McAlister. We will wait until we have done all that we can in integrating that puny drive to the systems of my cruiser. That is final. I am desperately in need of your expertise still.” Harim stated, moving towards the secondary holotank. “However, at this moment you may retire back to your own personal quarters. I’ll send for you once Caomhnóir has had a chance to crunch the numbers and absorb the data.”

“Fine.” Sadb huffed, walking off the bridge. Must be nice to have doors that you don’t have to manually crank open and shut she thought, annoyed that she was both here and that the ship older than any settlement in the Elysium Segment had nicer features that even her rust bucket. She wouldn’t go straight to her own quarters however, they had the information and the drive. Her job was done.

She made her way towards engineering, where Orrin had offered to help integrate the drive into the ship. Why they even bothered was beyond her, the ship was far larger than it had been rated for. But they said their little AI had run the numbers, and that it would “only” be as bad as a first generation drive. How it knew that still didn’t make sense to her. In fact, none of this made sense. The Caladbolg was never listed on any record as having been sent. Yet it was very clearly modified and rebuilt for this mission. She visibly had had sections to her hull added, and the triple reactors was certainly not common before the ship had set out. That and the absurdly large array of communications arrays in the rear of the ship.

The array was useful though, she supposed, the more powerful sensor suite onboard the Gaoth able to take advantage of the much better receivers. Let them properly see nearly to the planet in system. Her thoughts were interrupted as she entered the engineering compartment.

‘Ma’m, you can’t enter.”

“How come?” She retorted, glancing at the name on his uniform. “How come, Cairbre?”

“Just following or-” Cairbre began to respond, only to be interrupted by the blazing of a klaxon and the shift of the lighting to amber red.

The voice of Caomhnóir filled the passageway, “General Quarters. General Quarters. All hands man damage stations.”

“Shit.” Was all that Cairbre said, reaching out to grab Sadb’s hand. “We need to grab pressure suits.”

She resisted, “we’ll be fine with the shields, we’ll know when they start to fail. Warships aren’t display screens.”

Cairbre looked at her with concern, “We don’t have shields!”

“Oh.” Was all she said, allowing herself to be pulled along.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Contact on sensors, two AU distance bearing 2-7-0 azimuth 3-2 degrees. Recommend defensive action to protect reactor refueling, we’re quite limited on power output as of now Admiral.”

Hiram whipped his head towards the main holotank from the star charts he had been studying. “Size?”

Caomhnóir paused a moment, his own processing capacity divided among a massive list of tasks as he tried to absorb the new information and continue his other duties. “Approximately two hundred meters, designating sierra-1. Classification corvette size. Armament unknown. High probability of shielding.”

Hiram glanced between the starcharts and the ship being displayed. “Two AU?”


“Correct Captain.”

“Launch a salvo of mines, distance one AU or less. If they get too close they’ll get a nasty surprise. Set emissions control. Let’s hope only having one reactor up helps us hide among the cold rocks.”

“Contact on sensors, five AU distance bearing 0-9-0 azimuth 0-1 degrees. Rapidly approaching, approximately 1000 meters, designating sierra-2. Classification light cruiser size. Armament unknown. High probability of shielding. We have direct line of sight.”

“Shit. Get us behind cover, we’ll be sitting ducks without power and we haven’t any shields installed.” Hirim said, trying to figure out his options. His Majesty’s wellbeing is paramount..

“Initiating movement. Sir, they’re attempting to hail us.” Caomhnóir continued, his usually monotone voice confused.

“Really? New plan, get His Majesty aboard the Gaoth and have Nuada’s team go with him. Have Captain McAlilster and her crew accompany them to Cenaesian space. We’ll ensure they have a window to escape.” Hiram said, closing his eyes and signing the prayer of Lugh in the air before him.

“Affirmative, I am dispatching them now. They are still trying to hail us Captain.”

“Very well, put them through and in the meantime I want my reactors refueled and back online. I need power to charge the guns and the drive.”

“Aye, putting them through.”

“This is Captain Hiram Bagley of the Caladbolg, Máistir na bhFarraige of His Majesty’s Imperial Cenaesian Navy. This is Cenaesian space. You are in violation of the divine settlement and compact of the Elysium Segment by the peoples of Terra. Depart at once.”

[United New Mahisia]

New Horizonte
UNTSE Space

The Ridley-Cortez building towered over the others in the center of the city of 90 million. New Horizonte was simply a term for the urban mass that made up 80% of the planet. Ridley-Cortez Industries, like the city, was simply a small part of something massive. And something dark was occurring on floor 137 of that tower, enveloped in the brightness of the city.

"Mr. Delgado, this is unrealistic. A plot against the government was our plan, not having the CC involved. We don't need a war right now." said Chuck Logia, Deputy Managing Director of Ridley-Cortez in New Horizonte.

Young Lenny Delgado, Advising Director to the Board in NH, replied quickly. "The CC will add in trillions for us if we pull this off. Also, war is what keeps this company afloat. In fact, an armed conflict is just what we need. With the company under us, we'll be producing more weapons and ships than ever!"

The atmosphere in the room began its descent. Order, if necessary, would be enforced by the Senior VP for MS on NH, John Diaz, Age 60.

"Gentlemen, there's no need for argument. We can unfold these details after we take control", Diaz said.

"I can't agree, John. Taking over with our pants down won't have long term positivity! And anyway, Mr. Delgado, we'll be producing weapons, and ships, but for who? The CC have their own. The Government has theirs. We can't sell to ourselv-" he was cut off by Delgado.

"There will be no damn government if our plan works! We'll kill every single one. Kill their families, kill the loyal ones. We've come too far to fail, and too far to go soft!"

Murmur broke out among the 8 sitting in the room, and it soon became loud arguing. Diaz was trying to calm everyone, but Logia was bickering with Delgado, while the other plotters talked and argued amongst each other. Their conversations ended suddenly when the group's half Pillowlandian secretary, Ped Macguire, hastily stormed through the door.

"Everybody, get up and follow me. If you don't you'll either die here or out an airlock" he stated casually.

"What the fuck is this Pedro?" asked Logia, irritated.
"They are coming, get off your asses and come with me!" shouted Ped. He glanced behind him suddenly, before pulling out a MkV K-Gun. This changed people's minds a little bit. They got up and followed him, in a state of panic, fear and confusion. The group rushed down the halls past the offices and desk rooms.
"We need to get to the Teleporters and go to the Flight Platform ASAP. I'll explain when we're out of here!" screamed Macguire.

"A lot of explaining" said Lt. Colonel Oscar Portofiro, the military man of the plotters.

Suddenly, a man in Death Squads uniform came round the corner leading to the Teleporters. Instantly, Ped raised his K-Gun and released a volley of shots into the chillingly-dressed soldier, ending him.

"Holy shit, that guy was Death Squads! They really are coming for us!" said Logia, fearful. The Death Squads was the nickname for a terrifying organization called the NOOSE (National Office of Security Enforcement).

The group of 9 made it to the teleporters unharmed. They went in one by one, Logia going last. By the time 8 had made it to the Platform, the alarms had gone off and the teleporters locked down leaving Logia behind. The group looked up to the window where the teleporters were. Logia was banging desperately on the glass, looking down at them with terror in his eyes. In his mind he had hatred and terror, but before he knew his mind was splattered all over the window. Shock entered those in the group at the sight of their long time co-worker's grisly end. The least disturbed was Ped Macguire, who hurried them along to a Baron class transport ship.

"Chuck's gone, and if we don't get on that ship we will be too!" squealed Ped.

The group desperately and quickly rushed aboard the ship via it's lowered ramp. Once they were all on board, Ped went to the cockpit and fired up the ship's engines and drive. He'd only made it a few kilometers away when an alarm indicated armed ships approaching. Fortunately, he thought, he'd arranged a P1AZ turret to be fitted to the lower part of the ship, as well as a small missile bay.

"I'm gonna need somebody on the turret!" shouted Ped, sweat coming down his face.

"I'll do it" said Portofiro as he headed towards the turret room. The hostile government ships were coming in fast, two of them. They were advanced SL-IK 9s and their pilots didn't tend to have mercy. The black ships flew swiftly towards the Baron class. Portofiro was on the turret and released volleys into ships he once commanded. He did critical damage to the first one quite quickly, the plasma slicing through its wing and sending it down.

"Gotcha, you G-man bitch!" he cried happily. The others felt relief, and they couldn't see the ships trailing them so they were particularly encouraged. In the pilot's seat, Macguire struggled to dodge the accelerated mercury shots coming at his ship from behind. The pilot of the second SL-IK was stubborn and began landing critical hits.

"Godammit, just die!" was the neighborhood of shouts coming from Lt. Colonel Portofiro on the turret. He finally managed to get a hit right in the cockpit. He could almost see the enemy pilot squeal as he fried. It was just seconds late that the drive went into action and the shipped jumped out of the system with all it's power. It was now safe, and Macguire had a lot of explaining to do....

[Taoiseach Federalist Unions]

Commander Lazek slumped in the padded pilot's chair of the Federalist Cruiser, awful music blasting out of the speakers. Ever since he had been awakened by the computer system, he'd worked on catching up with the pop culture files, but found himself wanting to go back to sleep. However the AI said they were close, and bound to hit a habitable planet quickly. He pressed a button and the guttural noise stopped. Lazek breathed in deeply, contemplating his fate. Plucked from the planet where he was raised, and sent off into some galactic universe to restart human life. He slowly stood, his muscles stiff from centuries of rest. The faint green light of the ship basked the hallway as he hobbled back to his office. He walked in and grabbed his scroll. After a quick tap of the buttons it unrolled, and he was able to see the mission briefing. The tablet beeped, and Lazek looked to see a message containing preliminary reports of the planet they were about to land on. Mountains peaked throughout the perimeter of the planet, with barren flatlands and a desert in the middle. There was no name, only an attached code of 7714. The 7,714th planet they had inevitably visited in their attempt to restart life. Lazek got up once more and walked to the nose of the ship. Vast expanses of space whirled by, bright colors glittering against his ship. The ship slowed, and soon reached a drifting speed in which a landing would be attempted. He slipped down the corridor, now glowing yellow, and neared a pod. He stepped inside, the machine clicked and whirred, and he was suited for exploration. He flicked on communications, and AI began to talk.
“Greetings commander,” cheered AI, “It's been a long time since we've talked. According to my calculations there's a 99.87% chance we survive on this planet. There's also a 87.56% chance that we can grow crops without wasting the green houses. “

“That's good to hear,” replied Lazek cautiously. “Right now we need to focus on getting to the planet successfully and then waking the crew. We're always able to produce food, even if it isn't natural.”

“But good master, you surely don’t want to live off that tasteless garbage.”

“Awaken the Eagleton brothers. I’m not going to risk you killing us off. The others may worship you, but I know better” Lazek growled.

“As you command master,” responded AI defeatedly.

Lazek lowered himself into the coffin. Literally shaped like coffins from Nova Terra, the ship was mainly designed for scouting missions. Very lightly armed, and with few ways to avoid enemies other than simply outspeeding them. Lazek turned off the autopilot and ejected from the ship. The coffin’s engines started, and he began descending towards the planet. It slowly swam into view, lush and green near the poles, but a menagerie of oranges and yellows in the middle. The ship neared the atmosphere, and slowly began its descent. Lazek’s AI slapped a seat strap onto him, keeping his body from being mashed on the cockpit. After 10 minutes of reentry, the coffin landed, and the pressure released. The lid lifted off, and Lazek stood and planted his feet on solid ground. He was in the northern hemisphere, where flat hills stood everywhere. Some foreign grain, purple in color, was waving in a light wind.
“Are all life support systems clear?” asked Lazek cautiously.

“You’re ok to take off your gear,” replied AI.

Lazek found the clasps keeping his protective suit on, and slowly unwound them. His suit peeled off him, leaving him in a simple space uniform. The air was crisp and thin, but it was marvelous. After years of searching, light years of searching, they had found a home. A solitary tear streaked down his cheek, he began to walk down the hill to another. He grabbed his communicator and sent the all clear signal. Life was about to begin, and the ship was near landing. Lazek had begun investigating the purplish grain, when the cruiser landed nearby. Hundreds of Hibernian people had awoken, and their settlement was about to begin.

[The League of Eastern Orthodox Knights]

Federation Space
Libertas System
Parion
The Federation Senate Building
Darius could not hear himself think over the roar of hundreds of senators arguing amongst themselves. Senators from around the federation of all different life forms debated, colluded, and plotted sabotage on one another. It reminded Darius so much of his own flawed human.

“Seems that nothing changes even light years from home.” He looked down on his wrist come and saw the timer ticking down. 5... 4... 3... 2... 1... a loud horn went off in the senate hall and the senators returned to their hover seats where their various assistants, representatives, and other members of their delegations studied charts, received messages, prepared speeches, and fundraisers. Mir Kata struck the floor twice with his silver staff and spoke in a clear voice...

“The 10 minute unmoderated caucus has concluded, are there any points or motions on the floor?”

“Motion to enter voting procedure on Senator Ahn’s proposal to increase budgetary spending for the Federation security forces by 3 million credits in light of the recent uprising in the Valyrian system?” This motion came from Senator Mothora, representing the Moloni system.

“That motion is now in order, everyone please enter your votes into your comms.” said Mir Kata. Hundreds of blips echoed through the great hall as the senators entered their votes. The numbers were displayed on Darius’s screen, rapidly increasing until finally the vote was in. For: 231, against: 109. Darius stood up and spoke before the crowd.

“This proposal has passed, emergency funds will be diverted towards security forces.” The senators of the winning vote all turned to their delegations and congratulated each other while the others sat defeated, waiting for the next item on the agenda, the closing remarks. Mir Kata slammed the floor again before speaking.

“We will now end today’s session with closing remarks from Chancellor Darius Drachalis, Chancellor you have the floor.”

“Thank you, my fellow delegates. Today we have witnessed a truly beautiful thing, today we have witnessed the will of the people carried out. How many died in the Valyria system because our forces were underfunded? Too many. But through the power of democracy we have ensured that such a mistake will never happen again under the watchful eye of this senate. This government has one goal, to maintain peace and prosperity throughout this Federation. I remember it was only 20 years ago when my people first arrived to the Elysium sector, our home world destroyed and our species all but eradicated. But with the generosity of this Federation we have not only survived, but prospered. I’ve had the privilege of serving this grand democracy as Chancellor for the past five years. As you all know my term is coming to an end, but I do not wish for my service to the Federation to end. That is why I am announcing my run for reelection to the office of Chancellor!” The roar of the senators could not compare to the symphony of sounds from people all over the Federation. Opening and closing remarks are all broadcast to the public and are extremely popular. Election fervor was on, and the race was just heating up.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Chancellor Drachalis' Office
Two loud knocks woke the honorable Chancellor from his nap. He shot up in his chair and quickly straightened his hair before yelling “Enter!”. The sliding doors opened to reveal Mir, still dressed in his senate robes. He strode into the room with the same confidence that is displayed everyday on the senate floor, sat by the desk and poured himself a bit of Voraxian brandy. Darius would have been offended at almost any other of his colleagues entering with such bravado but Darius was too good of friends with the blue skinned Vice Chair. The two sat in silence, taking in the atmosphere of the Parionic night. Finally it was Mir who broke the silence.

“That was quite the speech you gave tonight, I think you’ve got a fair shot.” Darius smiled and poured himself a drink, adding one ice cube, and sipped at it gingerly.

“Thank you my friend, I trust I’ll have your support during this tumultuous time.”

“Of course Darius, there is no one better to lead the Federation. That reminds me there are two people in the waiting room wishing to speak to you. It’s Kenji Kami and Marius Corti.”

“Send Marius in first, Kenji is a patient man.” Mir got up from his seat and walked towards the door, motioning to Marius to come in.

“Ah, Senator Corti, please have a seat my friend. May I offer you a drink?”

“Thank you Chancellor, your hospitality is appreciated. The drink won’t be necessary, I don’t want to take up too much your time. I simply want to wish you luck on the upcoming campaign. I am glad to know this election won’t be boring with just me running unopposed.” Corti’s cordial smile was betrayed by the hatred in his eyes. Darius took note of this.

“Well you know that I love democracy and this great Federation, I guess I’m not quite ready to leave it in the hands of another.”

“Your dedication is most admirable Chancellor. Well I simply wanted to wish you luck. I look forward to a good contest.” He got up and started walking towards the door, paused, then turned back around for one last comment. “It’s funny, your people just barely arrived in this Federation and somehow one of you managed to secure the highest office. A paranoid man might suspect some foul play.” And with that Marius left, leaving his comment hanging in the air. Darius clutched the edge of his desk, suppressing the rage he felt towards the sneaky senator. The audacity of all but accusing the sitting chancellor of election fraud in the galaxy’s most democratic nation was simply astounding. Darius downed the rest of his brandy and slammed his glass on the desk, nearly shattering it.

“Send Kenji in.” The door opened and a short man appeared, his long mustache like two tendrils, seemingly having a mind of their own. He stopped short of the desk and bowed deeply.

“Honorable Chancellor, I hope you are doing well.”

“I am quite alright Kenji, although running the country does take its toll. May I help you with anything?”

“I simply wanted to ask you about your campaign, you know as well as I do that considerable funds are necessary to run successfully for the highest office.”

“Of course I am aware, I have done this before as you recall. In fact I remember you being a significant contributor to my last campaign.” Kenji smiled, nothing made him happier then being reminded of his wealth.

“You promised peace and stability, something me and my friends value very much amongst the systems of the Trading Clans. You’ve done more than we could have ever asked for to secure our little corner of the galaxy, and to increase our profits.”

“Yet I sense that you are not here just to stroke my ego. What do you want Kenji.” Kenji smiled again, but this time a sly smirk rather than the glowing smile of before.

“Well Chancellor, my friends and I are concerned over the passing of the most recent piece of legislation. The increase in security funding tells us that war is on the horizon. War is not good for profits, we do not want to be forced to send our support elsewhere, perhaps with Senator Corti.”

“What do you want Kenji.” The amicable tone disappeared from Darius, his anger could barely be contained.

“Well, let’s say that war were to break out, trade would be reduced significantly across the Federation. The only goods that would be shipped consistently is armaments. My friends happen to be premier weapon producers and shippers, yet this government has refused to offer a contract to us. Perhaps if such a contract would be tendered, we would consider funding your next campaign fully.”

“What your suggesting Mr. Kami, is bordering on war profiteering.” Darius let this accusation hang in the air for a moment before continuing, “However I am a reasonable man, perhaps a favorable deal can be reached between the Trading Clans and the Grand Army of the Federation. But such a deal can only be reached with the stamp of the Chancellor. If war was to come, perhaps it would be appropriate to invest in such high quality weaponry as that developed by the trading clans.” Kenji smiled an even wider, wolfish grin.

“That is all I needed to hear Chancellor, you can expect a generous donation from the Trading Clans very soon.” Kenji bowed once more before walking out of the red-walled office. Darius let out a sigh of relief and indignation, twiddling his thumbs to calm himself down.

“I think I’ll retire for the night Mir. I’ve had a very long day, goodnight my friend.”

“Goodnight Chancellor.” Mir left the Chancellor alone, who got up and plopped down on the bed in the connected room, utterly exhausted.
______________________________________________________________________________
HESC Vulpe
Kerryon System
“Hello, this is Fleet Captain Ed Kitar of the HESC Vulpe. Who are you?” There was a moments pause before a response was heard.

“This is Captain Hiram Bagley of the Caladbolg, Máistir na Farraige of His Majesty’s Imperial Cenaesian Navy. This is Cenaesian space. You are in violation of the divine settlement and compact of the Elysium Segment by the peoples of Terra. Depart at once.” Kitar looked puzzled before turning towards his second officer.

“Park is our translator functioning or did this man just say he was from Terra?”

“That’s correct sir. Archives show that several Terran people escaped the Cataclysm, especially from Cenaesisa. They set up some sort of governance across several systems.”

“And why was I never made aware of this?

“The Federation has never really had run-ins with the Cenaesians. The Trading Clans have had dealings with them but official relations have never been set up. Their navy is relatively small and weak, we’ve never considered them a threat.”

“Well that ship looks like it could give us a run for our credits. Park contact them again, I wish to speak with the good captain” Park tapped away at his comm and frowned.

“Hmmmm odd, it seems that they’ve stopped receiving our communications. They seem to be jamming our signals.”

“That’s not good.”

“Captain our scanners show their weapons systems are charging up.”

“Get the railguns online, aim for their main targeting system.”

“Brace for impact!” Railgun shots flashed through the vacuum, colliding with the deflector shields, sending ripples across the bridges viewing window.

“Marquis what’s the damage report?”

“Moussoir the shields are 85% effectiveness. There are some minor injuries in the shuttle bay. Our weapons are ready to retaliate.”

“Return fire!” Several railgun shots flashed across the stars, knocking out the targeting array of the Caladbolg.


“Successful hit sir!”

“Great job! Target their communications and their engines, get a boarding party ready.”

“Sir they are returning fire!” Several shot rang out, directly striking the shield outside the bridge. The ship shook with mighty force. Kitar couldn’t believe that the larger vessel could return fire without their targeting systems.

“Damn, they must have a fantastic shooters to be accurate at that range, return fire!” More shots streaked through space, scoring critical damage on the communications array and the starboard engine. The two ships continued to return fire, each scoring hits here and there. The sheer size of the Caladbolg made it difficult to bring down while the shield systems kept the Vulpe from being annihilated.

“Sir our shields are at 5%, they’re about to give out.” Kitar’s training kicked in.

“Mallory! Begin evasive maneuvers! Park set the weapons to fire at a faster rate. We’ll lose accuracy but the thing’s so massive that I doubt we’ll miss too often.”

“Sir yes sir!” The hits started coming much less often, Mallory’s flying was buying them time.

“Dammit where are those dreadnoughts.” Suddenly a massive bang was heard towards the back of the ship and the power shut off. Within a few moments the auxiliary power was kicked on.

“Moussoir Capitan, our shields are down and our main engine has been taken out. Jumping to warp speed is going to be difficult with all the incoming fire.” Mallory looked absolutely defeated sitting at the helm.

“I’m sorry sir, the flak was just too heavy.” Park chimed in…

“Sir they’re sending a boarding shuttle, we better send a squadron to the shuttle bay.” Suddenly the radar began blinking red and Park quickly moved to read the data.

“Sir there are two massive objects coming out of warp speed.” With a flash, two Federation Revenant class Dreadnoughts came out of hyperspace. “We’ve got an incoming transmission from the HESC Wolf”

“Put it through Lieutenant.” On the screen appeared Admiral Ponds with two officers on each shoulder.

“Who knew it would take your sorry ship to bring me out of my office.”

“It’s good to see you up and about Pondsy. As you can see we’re in a bit of a jam. That strange signal seems to be coming from a rather hostile Caeneasian ship.”

“Don’t worry Ed, you called the exterminator, now let us take care of this rat. Open fire!” Railgun shots rang out in rapid succession from both massive ships, pummeling the exterior of the Caladbolg. The ship began to list to the side, it’s stabilizers failing. Suddenly, their main engines kicked in, the FTL drive activated, and the ship was gone in a flash. Kitar sank in his chair, all that stress had left him completely drained. A quip from Park had him shooting up straight again.

“Sir we appear to be picking up a signal from another ship, a Hydaeus ship.”

“Great, just what we needed. I guess we ought to hail them. Send out a comm signal, open frequency.”

[United New Mahisia]

Deep UNTSE Space
Aboard the transport ship Malvinas

The ship drifted through the emptiness of space, like a stray dog through a back alley. Aboard, the atmosphere was dark. The group of escaped plotters gathered in the Convene once they were sure they were in Deep Space, and clear of NOOSE ships.

"Ok guys. I know this wasn't exactly forseen by any of us. Even Robert, bless his dead soul. I don't know how they found out about our plans, and I barely found about about that in time." stated Ped Macguire, the secretary and shady manager of the group.

The plot was composed of disgruntled Ridley-Cortez corporates, military men, and financiers. It began a year earlier when R-C high up John Diaz' secretary, Macguire, was approached by a minor investor and an army officer, by the names of Jim Miltez and Oscar Portofiro. The pair said they were interested in launching a coup, something which John Diaz had approached a few people to talk about. Diaz went with the pair and got his colleagues into a little conspiracy they would never come back from. It was a bad mistake. Here they all were, a month before their scheduled coup, escaped from Death Squads sent to end them in their seats.

"Tell us, Pedro. How did you find out about the Squads?" asked Diaz.

"Shortly before I came to you guys, I picked up chatter on a closed channel. It linked back only to a nearby ship which wasn't moving. I did some quick hacking and realized it was a Death Squads cutter, and by then they had already entered the building, according to their comms. I put this ship on standby and raced to the conference room. Here we are."

There was no reply. Robert Logia was dead. Nobody in the room had a future. Or so they thought.

The ship's supplies could only last all of them so long. They received word that Portofiro's unit was disbanded and replaced with fresh men, and their section of Ridley-Cortez was thoroughly cleared of most of its staff and documents. Their hope was dim, and with no actual destination, the group began considering the worst.

This was until the ship came across a Deep Space Transmission Station. It was marked UNTSE, and it picked them up within a whole 2 AU's. Upon hearing the news, Ped Macguire essentially offered the band a choice. Die on the ship, or maybe remain alive by docking at request. They chose the 2nd, almost reluctantly. But they were not hailed to dock, even within spitting distance of the DSTS. This could be something, thought Macguire as he docked the ship.

"This is a mysterious situation. I want Oscar, Lenny, Raf and Jim Jr. to come with me. Arm yourselves". said Ped, flatly.

The group picked up any K weaponry and even some old R guns, before going in. It was ominous in the Entry Tunnel. Upon arriving in the main room, however, the 5 found themselves surrounded. But not by normal UNTSE men. These people were in suits. They carried advanced KP weaponry. They had UNTSE armbands with strange symbols.

"Hands up, weapons down!" shouted one as he approached the 5. But he didn't need to get close to recognize them.

"Huh, you're the plotters from New Horizonte. Seen you on the Death Squads Confidentials. Doesn't change anything. Why are you here?" he asked, with a mysterious purpose.

"Whoa, we aren't those guy-

"TELL ME WHY YOU ARE FUCKING HERE MACGUIRE!" screamed the mysterious inquisitor, his KP gun now pointed directly at Ped's face.

Young Jim Jr. was almost in tears. These men seriously confused the group, and we beginning to scare them. Some more lights turned on and even more armband men walked in.

"We just found your station. We wanted to come and see about handing ourselves in or something else. But I know this isn't a normal UNTSE station. Who are you?"

"Handing yourselves in? Of course not. Back off boys, the play is over." he turned to Macguire. "Give your weapons to my men. I'm surprised this worked."

Confusion reigned among the 5 as they gave their weapons and were escorted out of the Entry Room and up a busy flight of stairs. They were shown into a room where their fellow plotters sat, with the mysterious agent.

"First things first. My name is Agent Pricio. I am with the Crimson Star Organization. Officially, I'm in the Intel Branch of the PG.", he said, referencing the Presidential Guard.

"Crimson Star Organization?" asked Portofiro.

"We were established, mainly of members of the PG and some mercenaries loyal to the President, to serve secret operations on behalf of our great elected leader. Hence our name. And you shall all be part of our greatest operation yet. Taking over the UNTSE under Mr. Roil."

Some Months Later
New Horizonte
UNTSE Capital Space
Presidential Conference Room

The federation's biggest executives sat at a long table adorned with symbols of the nation. The room was elegant and expensive, with paintings of the home world and the greatest moments in the history of the Enclaves decorating the walls. At the head of the table, looking out a full glass span with his back to the executives was President Vestro. He was listening to the petitions of the rich.

"Mr. President, the allegations against you and the growing opposition in the senate is very discouraging for us and the people we work with." said Ormono Cortez, CEO of Ridley-Cortez. There was a small murmur of agreement with his statement among the others seated.

"And what might that mean? The people you work with don't sit here. I do." said the President, still looking away from them.

"There's already been a plot of a coup against you. The plotters are still at large. They worked for my corporation. Our business is the true power in this nation. Your seat means less than ours." Cortez replied.

"I agree. The truth is that we are in power at the moment. We don't want to have to...change our corporate positions on you, Mr. President."

This bought a new atmosphere to the room, an almost chilling one. The suggestions made were serious, but not much less occurred at this table than that.

"And that might entail what?" asked the 34 year old Vestro, with a cold lack of real curiosity.

"The Senate may have to make an action which would not be good for your young career. As a result of our positions. I'm sorry Mr. President. We can
and will take the wheel from here, as we always have. Your job is done."

The President turned his seat around and revealed his face. He looked emotionless, staring down every man at the table at once. Fear was now present in everyone but him. A small, but growing, fear.

"Does Mr. Cortez speak for all of you?" he asked, casually. His reply was a murmur, primarily of positivity.
"I think it's important to be clear. Raise your hand he speaks for you" said the President. All the hands went up. In one second the fear caved in and a horrific chill became present. The President clicked his fingers, and the doors opened. In came Lenny Delgado, Jim Miltez Jr., Rafa Jina, Ped Macguire, and Andre Pricio. This group along with the Presidential Guardsmen in the room picked up their KP weaponry and Argus knives, and began to kill. They shot and stabbed their way through the executives in 3 seconds. On their vests a small header simply said "Crimson Star", and on their armbands, a sixteen-pointed red star gleamed.

"Very good," said the President, addressing his men.
"I want you to pass on further orders to Crimson Star. First of all, seize the assets of all these men and filter them through the names and organizations on this list" he said, handing a piece of paper to Macguire.
"The cabient and senate, sir?" asked Delgado.

"Abolish the senate. Then, root out any from the opposing parties, and others disloyal to me. Find their families. Put them together, then kill them all. Any other major officials suspected of disloyalty are to be disposed of as well. As for the cabinet; pack them onto the next ship to the sun with other degenerates."
"Even the loyal ones? They've worked for you..." said Jim Jr. solemnly.
"Would you like to join them, young man?" asked the President with a deliberately raised eyebrow. Jim Jr. said no more.
"Seize any media, wipe out the opposition to us. It is time for a new regime."

The President got up and looked out the glass on the great city. His time, had begun.

[Hydraxim Imperialis]

Contested worlds
~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The black gleaming carapace of the light cruiser gleamed from the sun as it streaked straight towards the remaining federation ships left in the system. The vessel had traveled well beyond Hydaeun borders, but now its main target had been lost, and its commander infuriated. The comms crackled as a connection was established, and Toun regained his composure.
“This is Hehm Toun of the HNS Bresii, servant of Baronii Mareleus. I’m here to rectify an emergency beacon signal, the is contested space, and while I would normally ask you to leave, I would to extend a hand at assisting the Nϊes.” He said in the typical arrogant tone that many Hydaeun captains carried. “ The ship you had engaged with, we would like assistance finding its location out, and perhaps its cause for being in this segment of space. It matches no known records of current up to date or prototype ship. These small acts may be the start of something larger, please think wisely of your words before committing to any one decision.”
There was a long moment of silence before the federation ships responded. Toun examined the ships that were neighboring the smaller vessel in the center. A small reading appeared on viewing panel. Toun read the words ‘Dreadnaught’ and felt slight butterflies in his stomach. The bresii was outgunned, and knew it was in no position to put up a fight against dreadnaughts, however it matter not that they would die, but rather secure Hydaeus. Toun gave his life for his nation, but as all men, he was afraid to die. Suddenly the main viewing panel Toun stood in front of lit up. It displayed a man sitting in his command chair. Toun noted the brighter qualities of his uniform, not many commanders have had contact with Federation personnel, and while he had the chance he glanced his own grey sleek outfit in comparison. The mans annoyance on screen was only visible through the slight twitch in his eye. Toun slightly tensed, he was aware of the weight of his actions but the longer he stayed in this bizarre situation with these bizarre ships and bizarre humans he became more and more anxious. The captain began speaking
“This is Captain Ed Kitar of the HESC Vulpe. We were also drawn to this area by ancient signals coming from the ship.” As the man spoke, he had a strange accent to the hydaeuns, he did speak the (english) they had learned, but spoke it rather differently. Toun made it a note to investigate this strange intricacies, and listened more intently. “It appears they were hostile. My admiral has given me the go ahead to investigate the ship. Perhaps we can help each other in that regard. However my ship has sustained significant damage to the main engine. It will take some time to repair.” Toun couldn't help but smile slightly. He was a low ranking captain in the Barons navy, but always on the lookout for opportunity, and now he didn’t feel the futile chains of peace hold him back. He finally felt, now, that he was serving the greater purpose that would see his career launch.
“Wonderful, I’m glad to be serving alongside intelligent men such as you.” He realized he had already revealed his interest despite trying to hold onto himself. He felt annoyed with himself, but continued on as if nothing out of the ordinary happened. “I’m having my crew send over details for you to be able to find me or communicate with our local baron. For now, while you repair, we will continue searching for this ship, please do notify us of your readiness when closest available.” He paused for a second. “And, captain… I do ask that you find me personally, I am most interested in your federation as well as this ship.”
With that, the ship began increasing its thrust and speeding off into the endless night, soon disappearing into a blue light to the distant stars beyond.

~~~~~~
A strange world of a strange people
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I could feel the ship swaying slightly while I watched the viewing panel shine with images of the overwhelming rain as we raced by the city that seemed to stretch forever into the sky. The blue and red lights, the dancing holograms, the vibrance of cars racing to and fro far down below. It all was a new sensation to me. I grew up on the agrian world of Areia V. Miles of green and mountains separated me and my neighbors. I’ve never seen a world like this, I’ve never even seen the kind of men that came to collect me. Even as I sat in the swaying ship, getting closer and closer to what I assumed my destination was, I didn’t know where I was or why I was there. All I knew was the transferred ship after transfer ship. I was surrounded by boys the same age on all sides, but all of us looked different. I kept to myself despite many of them talking and making friends. There were boys just as tanned as me, boys in far more fashionable clothes, boys in royal robes, boys who were pale and dirty. None of us looked the same, but all had a story, none knowing where we are going or why we were gathered. One boy in royal robes from a lesser known baron put forth the conspiracy that we are being taken by Three to a recruitment world. None of us believed him, but no one could find a better reason. After he said that we stayed away from the topic, and I stayed away from the other boys. Day after day, week after week we were transported until this rainy world. It was then that everyone all collectively, and suddenly, had interest in me, as I was the only boy not talking, besides the aristocratic royals or higher class lads.
“Oy, farmer boy, you haven’t said a word since we got on this damned ship, and we’ve been on and off many other ships for days now. What’s your story? Any idea where we’re going?”
I looked over the other boys clothes, all well kept, but his hands betrayed the rest of his body. They were calloused and hardened. His skin was pale despite his strength.
“How could you guess I was a farmer boy?” I replied with a tone of defensiveness. I’ve often heard stories of the other worlds, but you could never be too careful around strange new things.
“Tan skin, scaly skin, calloused, and now defensive, you even have that little nick in your forehead... lemme guess… Baronii Davaen? The ‘castle’s’ always instilling a fear of others in his folk.”
We hated that nickname for our baron… He whispers truths and provides damning evidence to other worlds, but they all simply make fun of him as a mad man locked in a rotting tower in his long lost castle.
“No, and I’d rather not give any information I ain’t have to, ‘specially to a manufactorum worker.”
“Pardoned? You’ve got some kinda problem with my kind?”
“No, just that you’re all a little to dumb for my liking.”
Right as the boy registered it, before he could even feel the embarrassment, the door to the ship opened wide.
As it opened we all sat in silence, we couldn’t believe our eyes, we were filled with both immediate terror, and an absolute wonderous feeling.
Emperor save us, the next thing we said would’ve had us killed if not for the royals...
~~~~~~

Chiagra, a lost colony of Hydaeus
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The walls of the underground city were molding and rusted with years of wear and tear. Hundreds crowded around a large opening in the center of what seemed endless steel and copper roofs. They huddled around the central heating unit, some working, some begging, all starving. The city was forced underground after the Unification War, a brutal and violent war to unify the lost and disjointed systems, and worlds, of the Reainni Confederation under the new banner of Imperialisians. During the dawn of the war many systems declared independence, even severing ties completely with other worlds. This world happened to be such a world. It was once a blossoming and beautiful world, life and potential to grow shone through every form of life and civility. But its independence would prove to be its downfall. Quickly realizing that much of the worlds were defectors to what was formerly known as the Imperialisian Realm, now known as Hydaeus, the world descended into chaos. Months of brutal guerrilla warfare ensued, and much was not helped when the Imperials arrived with their warships. The war was almost won, with loyalist victory near in hand, but as the ships loomed closer and closer to the planetary capital, the rain of nuclear hellstorm and fire began to drop upon the surface below. The bombardment continued for days, even weeks. The atmosphere turned to ash, and the world began to become consumed by the white snow of an eternal nuclear winter. All that remains are the outcasts that are rumored to survive on the surface, and the massive rotting underground city, simply known as the dwelling. Food became scarce, artificial light was all that was seen, power was one of the only things that the people had no worry for. But anything else was a constant struggle to find enough of. A man sat near the massive furnace, by a small gathering of the homeless folk that often would be seen begging on the narrow streets of rock and stone. The man fiddled with a ratchet that sat on his toolbelt, and gazed up at the immense machine that had breathed the little life into the city. He had wondered how the council had managed to fuel such a machine, some rumor it as steam generators, other simply say unsurmountable sums of coal. Finally some simply rumor it to be fed with scraps and trash. Whatever it was, he was simply glad it worked. He scratched his brow, as if wondering what to work on next. He glanced around with familiarity at a preschool that lay nearby. He waved to one of the small children, who in return called out “Hi daddy!” The man smiled shortly, before feeling his stomach rumble with hunger. Dinner wasn’t until five more hours but his stomach seemed almost always ready for a meal anytime. A short few moments passed and a small, stocky man strode up by the other.
“Hard surviving on only two meals a day, innit woodstock.”
“Yeah, I guess so. I don’t worry too much for myself, but…” the man gazed over to the boy who played in the makeshift backyard still smiling and waving at him. Woodstock could only smile and wave back.
“It shouldn’t be like this you know.” the smaller man spoke, a small disdain in his vocie as he glanced around the street at the pale faces and sunken eyes of the masses.
“Don’t spew more revolutionary propaganda please, we have enough of that already” Woodstock sighed back as if exhausted by simply the thought.
“I’m not talking revolution, but perhaps I’ve heard of surfacers and maybe a place they set up.”
“Surfacers don’t exist Don, even if they did they’d certainly be doing worse than us.”
Don sat down leaning against whatever he could put his back to.
“Well, it's hard to agree with that when seeing is believing.”
“What? You.” Woodstock laughed slightly “You of all people they could reveal to were the one that surfacers contacted?”
“Yeah what's so hard to believe?” Don said in a defensive tone, not quite catching woodstock's meaning. Woodstock took a minute to gather his thoughts.
“I mean, even if they did exist, you know travel to the surface is forbidden by the elders and the council, and again they don’t exist.”
“So? These ain’t just any run of the mill people. They are here on a rumor, and word they spread is they have a working spaceship”
“A what?” Woodstock said in an absolutely astounded tone, drawing the attention of nearby passerbys.
“You heard me, they offer revitalization and refugee to what they call Hydaeus.” Don said with a sly tone. Woodstock took note of the new name, an unfamiliar name.
“Hydaeus? What happened to the Imperials? They should be around, considering it's been 200 years and they still left the mess up there.”
“It’s unclear what they’re doing up there, or what they plan on doing, all I know is spread the word and get everyone the hell out of here.”
“Why would we even risk it though? We have all that we can to survive here.”
“That's just it thought, we only survive, do you remember any time you weren’t a child in which you could sit down and just be content?”
Woodstock thought for a minute. And then he took another minute. Finally he spoke, “That doesn’t matter Don, you’re talking about death based on a hope.”
“No, I’m talking about life based on a promise.”
“I’m assuming you’ve already broken the law by going to the surface…”
“Of course, where else am I going to find booze in this god forsaken shit hole rather than in the ruins.”
“You know you could kill us all with that radiation”
“Eh, I clean up before coming back, and besides, radiation might do your system some good and finally kill you.” Don slightly laughed
“Yeah sure,” Woodstock laughed back.
“Give it some thought woody, It’ll just be me and you, no family, no commitment, we can come right back, I can take care of the radiation, just come and see.” Don said in a worried and concerned tone.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea, but give me a week, maybe I can find some time to kill. At Least it’ll be better than losing at Pazak to you again.”
“That's the spirit!” Don gave a hearty laugh.
“Yeah, sure” woodstock smirked while staring over the ruined city, feeling his ribs and rubbing his sore and achy muscles. “Well… Might as well kill the time before then, let's get to it…” He sighed a painful sigh and looked back to the metal amalgamation that stood before him as it had for the passed 20 years he had serviced it. And once more he cranked the nuts and tightened bolts, checked gauges, and watched the steam rise into and pass on through the various pipes that ran exposed through the city.

[New Velonia]

The Velonian Civil War

It's been months since the fateful moment where the party convened to decide that David Hearst would be the new Party Chairman and, by extension, the supreme emperor of all of Velonia.

The party debated. The party argued. The party threatened, spat, and dealt its way to a vote on the successor to the legacy of Hawke. But in an ironic twist of fate, the very same party that obsesses over having complete control over Velonian life had no control over its own fate. The gears of civil war have been spinning for a long time in the Empire of Velonia.

The foundation of Velonian society is a belief in the supremacy of man, and the survival of the fittest. This was the justification in the heads of men as they exterminated entire species of aliens. This was the driving force for the expansion of among the largest empires in known existence. This was the value instilled in every Velonian in the youngest years of their lives. It only seems reasonable that this value is woven in the fabric of Velonian politics. Positions of power do not come through merit; they come through force.

When the party chose to elect Hearst as the Velonian Emperor, they were attempting to ignore the largest driving force of power in Velonia. Each contender for power rose to the position they were in through force and violence- why did the party think that they would stop that practice that short of the highest office in the galaxy?

After the envelope was broken and the losing candidates drove down the paved roads of Ninus's capital, the civil war was already in motion. Furlough, popular with the military establishment and equipped with complete control of Velonia's armed forces, ordered a complete lock-down of Ninus. He set up roadblocks, quarantined the planet, and attempted to capture his rival contenders. His forces captured many popular party leaders and executed all of them, but his 3 main rivals evaded his capture.

Winthrop, utilizing his control of the elite Szturmgroupa (SG) to sneak himself off the planet and hide away in the SG capital of Granica. From the remote corners of the Empire around the Granica star system, Winthrop mobilized the SG and began major seizures of star systems and military outposts, disarming and capturing hundreds of millions of Velonian troops.

Hearst, feeling robbed of his own position of power, immediately went on the offensive. He purged Furlough's supporters, disarmed all SG troops under his control, and armed his supporters to form a new armed forces. Invasions of Ninus and Nowa Velon pushed Furlough's zone of control further south, but catastrophic losses in the Battle of Segsus halted his invasion. Only a short time after the war started, each side became entrenched in a stalemate that changed little in the months following the collapse of the Imperium of Velonia that continues to the current day.

To be continued epic style

[The League of Eastern Orthodox Knights]

Federation Military Ranks:

Private
Private First-Class
Corporal
Sergeant
Staff Sergeant
Lieutenant
Major
Ground-Captain
Ground-Commander
Colonel
Brigadier General
Major General
Lieutenant General
Grand General (This Rank is reserved only for war time)

Federation Space Corps Ranks:

Ensign
Junior Lieutenant
Lieutenant
Fleet Commander
Fleet Captain
Senior Fleet Captain
Vice Commodore
Commodore
Lieutenant Admiral
Vice Admiral
Admiral
Fleet Admiral
Grand Admiral (This rank is reserved for war time)

Planetary Combat Units:

Federation Troopers
Federation troopers come from all across Federation space, with hundreds of different lifeforms making up the backbone of the Federation army. A typical trooper is equipped with light armor that can deflect indirect shots from enemy fire. Troopers often carry TX-57 assault rifles (as is the trooper in the image below), Mihai-72 sidearms, and Vibroknives.


A Human Federation Trooper outfitted in black armor and equipped with a TX-57 assault rifle

Mihai-72 sidearm

Vibroknife

Federation Incognitos:
Incognitios are elite troopers whose task is to infiltrate enemy lines in order to steal sensitive data, take out important targets, or sabotage enemy operations. In peace time they often act as military police, investigating smuggling rings and under criminal organizations within the federation. They don’t follow the typical command structure of the Federation, able to operate autonomously with obligations only to the chancellor and the generals. Incognitos are equipped with light armor, a personal cloaking device, a DC-58 sniper rifle, two Mihai-72 sidearms, and a Vibroknife. The Incognito’s helmet is also equipped with an AI system which allows them to identify weak points in an enemy encampment, armor, ship, based on data from the Federation military database. The software also transmits any important data an Incognito might discover to the database to be analyzed by intelligence officers. They often use Jackrabbit speeders to make quick getaways and captain Trojan Blockade Runners. Many incognitos also like to use SPFV Interceptor Class Werewolf modded with cloaking devices.


A Kalkari Federation Incognito

DC-58 sniper rifle

Federation Shock Trooper:
Shock troopers are heavily armored infantry specializing in urban combat. Their armor is cybernetically advanced, speeding their movements and making and hand to hand combat all the more devastating. These troops are generally Krelions, a humanoid alien race known for their immense strength and size, although particularly extraordinary humans have been known to sometimes become shock troopers. Shock troopers can be equipped with IX-2000 handheld turrets, DC-42 shotguns, Mihai-72 sidearms, and vibroknives.


A Krelion Shock Trooper

IX-2000 Handheld Turret

DC-42 Shotgun

Jackrabbit Speeder

The Jackrabbit is a speeder capable of carrying a single trooper and his equipment, in order for reconnaissance and scouting over long distances. The Jackrabbit is equipped with a twin-turret system and is occasionally used in battle.


A Federation Trooper on a Jackrabbit speeding across a desert landscape

747 Behemoth Railgun Tank

The 747 is equipped with heavy plated armor, a twin turreted railgun system, and two gatling guns. The tank hovers above the ground, able to move quite rapidly due to the lack of friction. The tank crew consists of a pilot, a main gunner, an auxiliary gunner, and an onboard engineer. The tank is able to hold down objectives and break through enemy lines, crushing infantry with ease.


747 Behemoth Railgun Tank

All-Terrain Tactical-Walker
The AT-TW is a large armored vehicle with six legs that is capable of traveling across rough terrain. Generally used to provide artillery support to infantry and decimate enemies from a distance, it’s main heavy cannon packs a wallop. The walker is also equipped with anti-aircraft missiles and smaller turret systems for taking out targets at close range. The walker is generally operated by two pilots, a main gunner, an onboard engineer, and an AI system. The AT-TW is also capable of transporting a squadron of thirty additional troops.


AT-TW in scale with an average trooper and assault drone

Yellowjacket Gunship
The Yellowjacket is a planetary assault vehicle primarily used for raining hellfire on enemy soldiers and vehicles on the ground below. Equipped with railgun turrets, tank-busting missiles, and bunker-clearing missiles, the Yellowjacket is a formidable force. The vehicle is operated by two pilots and two side-gunners.


Yellowjacket Gunship

Space Combat Units:

SPFV Interceptor Class Werewolf
This is the smallest FTL capable vessel in the Federation fleet, generally used to combat bombers and provide suppression fire at low altitudes. The Werewolves are the most maneuverable vessels and fastest. The Werewolves are equipped with railgun blasters, hydra anti-fighter missiles, perfect for taking down other small vessels in dogfights.


SPFV Interceptor Class Werewolf

SPFV Bomber Class Bear
The largest of the single pilot vessels, the Bear specializes in bombing missions carrying heavy ordinance proton bombs to cripple enemy capital ships, frigates, and ground fortifications.The bear is also equipped with two AI powered 180 degree, swiveling railguns using the Federation proprietary targeting system. The bombers are also equipped with flares to misdirect tracking missiles from enemy interceptors.


SPFV Bomber Class Bear with a pilot for scale

Large-Capacity Troop Transport:
The Large-Capacity Troop Transport (LC-TT) is a ship capable of carrying a brigade of ground soldiers along with tanks, speeders, and walkers. Generally accompanied by fighter squadrons or frigates, these massive vessels are slow to deploy and generally are used to deploy armies for full scale planetary invasions, after the initial skirmishes have been won and a foothold gained. The LCTT is lightly equipped with several AI controlled railgun systems and some shielding, relying on its escort entourage for protection.


An LC-TT orbiting Parion, escorted by interceptors

Low-Altitude Troop Transport:
The Low-Altitude Troop Transport (LA-TT) is a fast moving troop transport capable of deploying a company of men and 5-10 speeders just seconds after landing. These ships are generally used to deploy reinforcements in the heat of battle, also capable of punishing enemy ground-troops with air-to-ground missile systems, tank buster cruise rockets, and several mounted railgun turrets.


LA-TT with an interceptor for scale

Corvette-Class Trojan Blockade Runner
The smallest and weakest of the Federation’s large space vessels, Trojans are used for patrolling galactic backwaters, reconnaissance missions, stealth operations, salvage operations and as blockade runners. Trojans are also occasionally used to destroy already damaged large vessels when frigates are not available. Lightly-armed and armoured, the Trojan excels at outrunning other large vessels and performing stealth missions, as it is the only Federation vessel with cloaking abilities. The armaments on the Trojan include several railgun systems, and anti-fighter missiles. The vessel is equipped with minimal shielding, delegating most of its energy to cloaking and engines. The Trojan also has plenty of cargo space, either for supplies or discreetly transporting trooper battalions. Gangs of corvettes can also be used for clearing mines and attacking other anti-stealth vessels, should they be detected.


Trojan Blockade Runner in deep space

Frigate-Class Hornet
The Hornets are larger than cruisers, better armed and armored, and generally used for escort missions for either single capital ships or whole fleets, patrols, and in merchant convoys as protection. The ships are mounted with several railguns and missile systems and are often used in large swarms to overwhelm larger enemy craft and defend slower moving capital ships. Hornets are moderately shielded, able to withstand several shots before taking hull damage.


Two Hornets orbiting Lothus

Destroyer-Class Avenger
The Avengers are known for their devastating barrage of railgun shots, armor piercing missiles, and capital ship-busting torpedos. These ships are known for their incredible firepower with 3-4 taking down capital ships in short order. These vessels are the smallest Federations ships with on-board hangers, carrying several bomber squadrons to deliver devastating blows to enemy fleets. These ships often operate as escorts for whole fleets, never single capital ships, although occasionally appear as destroyer-only divisions.


An Avenger in deep space

Cruiser-Class Phantom
Phantoms are a mid-sized Federation vessels, useful for a variety of military tasks, including anti-fighter vessels, planetary bombers, supply-line raiders, and scouts. The Phantom are able to operate independently but are often seen in fleets. Phantoms are well-armed and armoured, capable of holding their own even against larger vessels due to their sophisticated shielding, railgun turrets and hydra missile systems. Phantoms also carry several squadrons of interceptors and bombers. Beyond combat roles cruisers can operate as exploratory vessels and colonization missions.


A Phantom orbiting a newly discovered world


Battlestar Class Vessel Lynx
The Lynx is a massive vessel, and the heavy hitter is space combat capable of punishing enemy ships with volleys of railguns, torpedos, and proton-missiles. These ships tend to decide the outcome of any encounter, dealing heavy fire power while protected by frigates and destroyers. Railgun systems, armor piercing missiles, torpedos, and heavy cannons for destroying planetary targets are all customary on these massive ships. They also have several hangers, both for deploying fighters for space combat, and transports to invade the planets below.


A Lynx over an enemy world flanked by two frigates

Hadron Invasion-Capacity Carrier
The Hadrons are the second largest ships in the Federation fleet, acting as massive transports for interceptors, bombers, ground vehicles, and troops. These behemoths are capable of carrying hundreds of divisions of troops, and all the equipment and resources necessary for a successful invasion. These ships are generally lightly armed considering their size, relying on the large numbers of fighters they carry or the fleets that accompany them.


A Hadron Transporting troops from the military base on Lothus

Dragonfyre Dreadnought
The Dragonfyre is the embodiment of fear, the largest vessels in the Federation Fleet (and possibly the entire galaxy). These warships are built for one purpose, to crush enemy fleets with ease. Generally the mere presence of a Dragonfyre is enough to send enemies on the run but the railguns, missiles, torpedos, thousands of fighters and corvettes capable of being deployed, and central heavy cannon that destroys large sections of planets generally do the trick when it comes to firepower. Only an Admiral is allowed to command a Dragonfyre. The appearance of multiple dreadnoughts is a rare occasion, reserved only for battles of biblical proportions or in instances of great curiosity and uncertainty, such as the appearance of the Caladbolg in the Kerryon system.


A Dragonfyre delivering devastation on the surface below