Wolves Against the Bear

[Imperial Nalydya]

Weathering Storm
VRZ Hal-nam Ka ‘Suzt;
Nalydian 12th Fleet “Memory of Rekazhenvolash”

Argan, Murdoch growls from beneath a cloud of rapidly-growing cigar-smoke. Jlokhemitdamn Argan.

Heinz nods… Casts a glance towards Cholkük.

The vast bulk of the warship looms in the void, silhouetted against the dingy tan colouring of the dusty remote world below. The myriad running lights of the warship keep her from disappearing altogether into the blackness of space; the System Argan, top secret and sunless, is without its own star to cast rays upon the blue and gray hulls of the warships of the High Hunter’s Navy. The Hal-nam Ka ‘Suzt, lumbering slowly towards the world, lurches slightly as its maneuvering thrusters kick in, before settling into a smooth and constant acceleration. The escorting fabriccraft, an impressive panoply of vessels hailing from Cholkük’s very own formation – the Nalydian 12th Fleet “Memory of Rekazhenvolash” – mirror the movements of the much larger flagship, maintaining their distance and relative positions to her. The VRZ Trident of Jlokhemit, almost exactly half the size of Murdoch’s behemoth and serving as Cholkük’s flagship, is the closest vessel, sailing near her larger cousin with only a rather paltry two thousand kilometers of space in-between them…

It is a delicate ballet of men and steel… Thousands of warships making up the formation, moving in concert, sailing within their allotted fabricspace and glowing with the putrid energies of the rift that power them and flow through their systems. Only the presence of the interdiction rings established around the system keeps preying eyes from zeroing in on the vast beacons of Nalydianism that have taken up residence here. A precautionary measure, yes - yet one taken to ensure von Begin and nam-Kyzhaq can coordinate and maneuver with full confidence they will not be assaulted or leave the Systems Yamsai and Nalydya open to attack.

We’ve received signal from nam-Kyzhaq, nam-Murdoch. They are in position and ready to begin.

For a few moments, the bridge is silent. Murdoch chews on his cigar (eliciting no response from the others save for Cholkük - who can be seen attempting to stifle the wrinkled brows of disgust), while the bridge-hands expertly handle the ship, effortlessly edging it into a stable orbit around Argan.

Then, Heinz:

We’ll see how nam-Kyzhaq handles these new ships, he mentions bluntly. The thought worries him. He eyes the tactical display; on it are arrayed both the Nalydian 8th Fleet “Seekers of Taial” and Nalydian 3rd Fleet “Wrath of New Skardu,” the formations fielded by von Begin and nam-Kyzhaq, respectively. The difference is striking. von Begin, known for his mastery of defensive Array combat, has gathered his fleet and deployed them in standard spherical formations with pickets at range. Already his Arrays have begun linking and powering up to their full extent, as detected by the suites on the ships of Murdoch’s contingent. But opposing him is nam-Kyzhaq, the prolific Rift Cavalier, and protégé of von Begin himself. Heinz stares at the ships before him and consoles himself in the fact the exercise has gone smoothly. It has been a while since such a deployment has been made and it is always beneficial for the men to run through the motions of larger formation operations.

VRZ Polynya’s Visit:

The rift. A terrible realm of churning energies and particulates; a veritable soup of sub-hadronic particles whizzing, whirling, wrecking… And yielding to not even the most powerful of Array shielding that protects the rift cruisers of nam-Kyzhaq’s contingent. VRZ Polynya’s Visit, herself a Grazhni Chornalshi type rift cruiser, strains against the onslaught, using the very tenacity of the realm against it, funneling the sickly energies and flowing pseudo-plasma particles into fuel cells and holding chambers. She harnesses the ferocity of the rift, and in doing so is able to survive it. Nalydian engineering has come a long way from the very first of the fabriccraft that took to the rift those many moons ago.

Local fabric scans have brought up nothing, nam-Kyzhaq, the sensors operator chimes, all indications are that we are alone in the rift, he finishes.

nam-Kyzhaq nods. Chorkenzhel forward. Ready on the NS Arrays.

Tasinehdao! the affirmation is voiced, Tasinehdao! Ready on the NS Arrays! the order is echoed.

You may begin, comes the clarification from Murdoch. nam-Kyzhaq nods (again) and looks to the displays.

We have our orders gentlemen, he tells them, set course for... Talos.

[Imperial Nalydya]

The Rift Cavalier
Local Rift - Talos;
VRZ Polynya's Visit:

We are arriving in local rift, nam-Kyzhaq. Natyl and Mylchar systems are operating at peak efficiency.

Thank you, nam-Kyzhaq replies to the sensor operator. What have we got here?

Scans are not picking up anything out of the ordinary...

nam-Kyzhaq nods. There had been a great hope that they would get to stretch their legs and operate against a foreign adversary for the first time since the ill-fated Frankish occupation of Patagonia in the FB-1 universe; the mock battles between him, von Begin, Heinz and Cholkük tend to get stale: Cholkük, charging in, von Begin and Heinz, countering with intricate defensive fabricplay, nam-Kyzhaq himself - ever in-tune with the rift - staying out of most of the straight up fighting and picking stragglers off from the sickly realm before incurring the wrath of usually Heinz....

Jlokhemitdamn them. Jlokhemitdamn them all, he mutters slightly, nowhere near loud enough to be heard at the most distant corners of the bridge, but near enough still.

nam-Kyzhaq?

Scan the area again.

Tasinehdao! Local fabric sweep! the order is echoed.

A few moments of grueling silence pass. The tension - thick, damp, and horrendously tepid – sets in on the bridge. Sweat can be seen rolling down the cheeks of a number of the officers present before nam-Kyzhaq breaks the silence:

Anything?

No, nam-Kyzhaq, we haven’t detected anything. Talos is firmly under GESO jurisdiction. No hostile fleets, no vast armadas, nothing.

nam-Kyzhaq nods again. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, he considers to himself. Helmsman, bring us to our next port-of-call.

Tasi, the helmsman replies.

The Triskelion Kingdom
Enter, the Wolf:

The runner R-739 is the first ship to notify the Treskelion Kingdom of the arrival of nam-Kyzhaq and his fleet. nam-Kyzhaq volunteered previously to represent Nalydya during the Pordic-Treskelli Accords. One by one the ships exit rift and wait to be greeted by the Treskelions.

[The Triskelion Federation]

The Triskelion Kingdom

Planet: Triskel

Empire Day

Usually the space around Triskel was busy as it had always been, thousands of transport vessels coming and going with goods as well as naval vessels. However today was a very special day, it was Empire Day, the day in which the Empire celebrated its birth.Celebrations were to be had across the planet and the entire Empire, the navy had drafted in five hundred thousand vessels of varying sizes to be paraded around the home planet. Crews of the vessels would be allowed shore leave to party with their fellow comrades and the citizens would be treated to an amazing display of new military vessels and a spectacular light show put in the night sky over Triskel. In addition to the home coming of thousands of Sturmtruppen being on leave, millions of clone troopers would be brought into and war games would be happening near the planet to hone skills for when and if planetery invasion and defense was necessary.


T.S Wolfe, Imperial Star Destroyer MK III, hangar

Andrew Alexander stood on the sparkling deck of the Imperial hangar, it was his first day as an Imperial Stormtrooper the nerves were getting to him, stood at attention for over an hour now they were awaiting the arrival of Admiral Colt. He was one of thousands of troopers on inspection that day and he was spent several hours previous arriving on the Star Destroyer, unpacking all his kit and making it presentable for the inspection of his unit before they were deployed to a far away planet for months at a time to keep the peace of star systems and enforce the rule of law if need be.

Suddenly he heard the gentle whooshing noise as the lowest hangar doors began to slowly move, a gentle vibration ran through his feet as they moved into their lock position as the Imperial gunship elegantly appeared from the depths of the ship and softly touched down on the deck. The order to attention was barked through his helmets intercom system and he quickly moved into position with this rest of his formation, though within a couple of thousand troops, it would be hard to notice any mistake that he did make. Without a sound the sliding doors of the gunship swung back revealing the Admiral and two clone troopers. The Admiral was a tall man with dark brown eyes and sharp blonde hair in his mid twenties. After surveying the troops for a few seconds, he gave the Imperial salute which consisted of forming a fist with your right hand and placing it over your heart and then raising it into the air, the formations of troops in the hangar responded in like with the Admiral.

Wolfe was greeted by a lower ranking officer who emerged from behind the gunship and both began walking across the hangar towards pair large blast doors.

"My intelligence reports that a Nalydian vessel just jumped into the edge of our system, have the Illustrious and the Formidable go and greet them" asked Wolfe.

"Very well my, my lord. I will have the ships jump as soon as they can to the edge of the system" the officer barked back,

Wolfe chimed back "I want this battalion ready for ground assault within 24 hours, we have a friendly system that is experiencing the spark of rebellion and we want to crush it before it spreads, orders of the Empress herself".

Pausing for a second the officer responded "Yes my lord, the assault vehicles are being loaded as speak, the vessels contains around 15 AT-ATS and 15-AT-TEs and 10 AT-STS thus far".

The Admiral nodded smiled and both walked through blast doors out of sight for now. As they left the two Allegiance class super battle cruisers jumped to meet the Pordish ship.

[Imperial Nalydya]

The Great Powers
VRZ Polynya's Visit:

The incoming Treskelion vessels are hailed and greeted by the VRZ Polynya's Visit. The rift cruiser, 3.4 kilometers from stem to stern and finished beautifully in a warm coat of Pordic Gray topped and detailed with and by bands of azure and alabaster, stands at the front of the Nalydian formation.

This is Admiral nam-Kyzhaq of the Imperial Nalydian Voznayte Rekazhgrazhni Zhamra. I have arrived with my fleet, the Nalydian 3rd Fleet, 'Wrath of New Skardu." We are here for the state meeting between Nalydya and Triskel.

The ship begins to move slightly, betraying the collection of warships behind it...

From the bridge of Polynya's Visit, nam-Kyzhaq reviews the final transitioning of the reactor and relay ships into real space. The vast Grazhnichonzheron class reactor ships, only slightly smaller than the Nezhozhalb assault cruisers, seem to move reluctantly, their overtaxed propulsion systems forced to move craft whose mass consists entirely of armour and reactors for shielding. There are numerous mounts for defensive weaponry, but the type distinctly lacks any serious offensive capabilities, outside of the Array. And so with this being the case, the complement of reactor ships fades into reality within the formation of dreadnoughts, taking up residence along their impressive flanks, two per nam-Voznayte type, twice that per Nyko Rekazhnar'an with another six parking themselves alongside the vast bulks of the half dozen Rekazhenvolash, for a total of 36 being devoted to the command ships overall. The relay ships are much fewer in number, and are divided up mostly evenly between the main sections of the fleet.

The lead vessel-sphere, arrayed in standard spherical formation with extra power to running lights, holographic standards and auxiliary maneuvering thrusters, rolls into positions. The escorting cruisers, an impressive panoply of large rift-capable ships like Polynya's Visit herself, ring the massed formation of battlewagons that occupy the center of the formation. They dance about the fabric, keeping impressive relative distance; the capital ships are privy to nearly sixty five thousand kilometers of room to maneuver between them, while the smaller ships much less; the reactor vessels are within one thousand kilometers of their respective dreadnoughts, while the assault cruisers enjoy only twenty-five thousand kilometers of maneuvering room. However, the odd ships out - the Chorkenzhel - maintain extreme distances between themselves and the fleet, flirting with the very edges of the Nalydian formation as they advance along the edge. Overall, the vessel spheres are arranged in a staggered formation relative to one another, the lighter groupings of Nezhozhalb and Dritzhalb assault cruisers - easily discernible thanks to their funnel types and arrangements, at least when they're not obscured by the Array - sail along the "flanks," while the heavier dreadnoughts are deployed towards the center.

Anchored firmly at the centre of the lead capital ship-spheres is the famed VRZ Shimmering Whiteout, a 360km-long Rekazhenvolash class command battleship. It is an impressive sight to behold, marginally larger than the US state of Massachusetts, and bristling with guns. Indeed, the entire flank of its very considerable bulk is lined with gargantuan artillery pieces, one after the other, in a great staggered fashion. To crew them is an equally impressive task, with millions of Pords taking up the mantle of responsibility and giving their all to ensure each piece runs effectively and efficiently. But these do not define VRZ Shimmering Whiteout, rather, nam-Kyzhaq's powerful warship has bands of shimmering crimson running horizontally across the girth of its massive bow and stern, making it easy to differentiate from the other vessels in the formation, and it strikingly evokes the likeness of High Hunter Cholkük's flagship, the VRZ Trident of Jlokhemit.

We are ready to proceed when you are, nam-Kyzhaq adds.

[The Fedral Union]

TAS Lexington; SCG-91

The Trip had so far been uneventful, through the infinities of hyper space; the metaverse around what everyone called and knew as the universe dwarfed the size of the six hundred and fifty or so meter long strike cruiser; the proud markings of the Terran Alliance lay on either side of its gray angled hull lit up by the colorful display auroral streams of particulate matter that rippled and angelically danced across the hull in order to fade back in to the unlimited domain of both chaos and order; flanked by two Solairs class destroyers on either end. Admiral Lerrn Collins stood on the bridge of the highly technical ; intricately complex and integrated ship, the CIC was filled with glowing and bleeping holographic panels manned by drone, and sapient alike.

The Smooth hulled forms of these ships might have seemed like they where devoid of any sort of might yet underneath their advanced neutronic hull plating seamlessly integrated planning and ball emitters h the ships weapons systems; the most visible sign of any sort of fire power was the ships spinal lance and her missiles. Collins sunk back in to her command chair eyes focused across the various three dimensional projections across the screen before her; they had been diverted to a special event it seemed by the order of fleet command; they where supposed to rendezvous with a relief force of ships at Talos station in order to start phoenix initiative; witch was the distribution of aid to the refugees in need of assistance; yet here they where on the way to tag along behind a pordish fleet of ships in order to show to flag per say; in-fact, the whole few weeks had been quite a rather active one for the GESO and Terrans as a whole. First a few bits of wrong wording had lead to a fiasco that almost destabilized the alliance; sending member states fleeing but the quick action of a few brave diplomats had saw to it that the proverbial ship of state didn't sink.

It was ironic that the very persons who had jumped ship and caused the whole ordeal In the first place had their reforms instituted and superimposed with the old charter. It neigh on turned the GESO in to a confederation of states; such politics though was above Collins pay grade; her eyes looked outward toward the shimmering auroral lighting passing by the ship.

They where moving closer and closer to their destination; it wouldn't be much longer before the jumped back in to normal space, Collins placed a hand on her arm rests interfacing with the warm and cold tendrils of the ships sophont; what ever the case was they had their orders, if a few trouble makers thought they could destabilize an entire alliance well they where right but not for long.

-”We're nearing the exit manifold now; constant communications with the Pordish fleet are at this time as orderly as could be; traffic control has been contacted and well.. It seems like we've not came in to an ambush I'd say.”-

Lexington said; despite some of the recent issues and the pull of tellurian support for them and the alliance as a whole they still retained along with their Pordish allies a technological edge competitively in the galaxy. It wasn’t as if there was one race guiding them along one path. Collins replied shifting in her chair just as the holographic vector map showed the hyper streams of their ships in transit start to twist together and superimpose at their destination system.

“I think you over generalize too much Lexington, besides aren't you supposed to be above such things? Two or three bag eggs don't equate to perfidy amongst all our friends”

The Sophont couldn't disagree; but it was part of a warship and trained to think like one, though the ships in the Terran fleet where meant and built to represent the best the alliance had to offer they where also envoys of peace in a fashion. Moments passed as they got closer and closer the streams almost merged ; with the proper messages sent and the prior arrival prodish ships, the Terran vessels; with their sleek angular forms burst in to normal space; wormholes that for a sheer blink of a second existed spat out these three ships they came to a crawl as their phase drives bulged space behind them, the very window in to the realm of infinity and maybe a god or gods what ever some less advanced civilizations might believe was short; and the fierce brightness of light that came from these torrential maws disagreeing with normal space time dissipated as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened at all. A quick and standard greeting was sent out along with the appropriate credentials again.

= “This is Captian Lern Collins of the Terran Alliance ship Lexington, thank you for allowing us to tag along on this excursion, if there is any particular path you wish us to take in approach vector please relay it to the ships sophont..” =

Now all they had to do was wait, and wait..

[The Triskelion Federation]

Deep Space

It started as a small red dot and slowly began to expand, it looked as if space itself was catching on fire as the portal to the Triskelion pocket universe fully unraveled. Through the fire appeared the bows of the Illustrious and the Formidable, like a monster appearing out of the depths they slid into position waiting for their prey, who had actually arrived before them.

Bridge of the Illustrious

The bridge was in a deathly silence as the crews went about their jobs, only the the gentle humming machinery could be heard. Admiral Lykon stood on the bridge and stared into the darkness of space and both the fleets that stood before him. He instantly identified the Pordish fleet by their design and shape, which were vastly unique from anything else in the rest of the known universe, through his studies in the Imperial Academy he had grown fond of their designs and tactics in war and had reflected them in his own campaigns across the galaxy. He was rather joyous to be rolling out the welcoming wagon to one of the Empire's closest of allies.

He marched towards the center of the bridge, his boots clacking on the metallic floor until he reached a dark elevated circle which lit with a blue glow when he stood upon it. As the circle began to hum and glow communications were opened with the nearby fleet.

"This is Admiral Lykon of the T.S Illustrious, I have been ordered to welcome you warmly to our sub space pocket and our home, we kindly ask that you deactivate any time distortion devices or your entry into our home may end up very unpleasant for your vessel and crew. In your own time, jump through the portal and you will be greeted by the grand fleet from there". The signal stopped and the two Imperial battlecruisers sat waiting for the fleets to jump through.

[Imperial Nalydya]

The Gate:

nam-Kyzhaq turns to the ship-captain at the helm of the Polynya's Visit. He nods to him with a single motion, urging him forward. The massive reactors of the vessel begin to thrum with life as the putrid rift energies course through them and are translated into workable energy to propel the vessel forth; mere moments after the order is given the craft begins to edge forward, first slowly, but then with more deliberate speed, and soon followed by the other vessels in the formation.

[The Triskelion Federation]

As they ships passed through to Imperial space they were greeted by the sight of millions of imperial vessels, thousands of destroyers, battle cruisers, battleships and two things objects that were even bigger. In the center of the system were to large gray planetoids, to the untrained eye they looked like gray grey skinned planets but in reality they were something much more sinister. They were two huge battle stations named simply DS-1 and DS-2, housing millions of Imperial troops and capable of projecting thousands of Imperial ships in any part of the galaxy that they were deployed to, to have two in one location was a sight to behold as they were larger than most planets in the galaxy which made them one of the Empire's biggest technological feats in terms of engineering and production. Due to being the size of large planets they had be stationed far enough away from each other in distance so that their gravity well would not effect each other or the ships which would be passing around the station, both civilian and military. In celebration of Empire day they had been brought to the home system to allow the crews to celebrate the day in which their Empire was founded, a brotherhood for millions of people across the galaxy being celebrated in unity.



When the fleet reached far enough into the system the ships were brought under the control by one of the many tractor beams on the DS-1 which brought them in line for docking with the station. Slowly a part of the huge station began to peel away to reveal a humongous hanger, inside were hundreds of Imperial Star Destroyers docked up, awaiting deployment, re-supplying and general rest for the crews of the vessels. Each station was huge city with thousands of shops, leisure facilities and even the home of Imperial Naval Command where the nations would be gather for their meeting to discuss their plans for the next few cycles. Thousands of vessels of varying sizes could be seen in the vicinity of the two battle station, many thousands of Imperial Star Destroyers were there for war games which were taking part in the area, some were actually guarding the stations themselves from possible smaller craft attack. Many were just there to ferry crew and resources between the large stations when teleportation was not deemed a high enough priority for the cargo.

Hangar A, Section C, Large Ship Section

Empress Anastasia stood watching as the foreign vessels made their final docking rotations in what was surely to be one of the universes biggest hangars, behind them the armoured blast doors the size of ships themselves began sliding back into place locking out the darkness of space one again. Next to Anastasia stood two Imperial Guards in their new power armour, in the armour they stood nearly 8 ft tall, covered in thick black durasteel they were a fearsome sight. The Empress awaited the arrival of the parties so they could proceed to the grand hall which has been specifically prepared for their arrival.

[Imperial Nalydya]

Triskel:

The Pordish armada responds to the portal deftly, powering their thrusters and sailing full steam into it. The Pords are familiar with such travel (nam-Kyzhaq himself is well versed in the history of the Naxid Wars in which Kesrith and Nalydya worked together to fight a cross-universal conflict) and their vessels are well equipped to deal with the type of transit. As the armada of massive warships slides through the fabricrend, the myriad ship-captains take due notice of what begins to take shape on their sensors…

Jlokhemitgrazhni… nam-Kyzhaq manages. The DS are even more magnificent in person.

Tasi, the captain, an older Pord, agrees. They are quite magnificent.

nam-Kyzhaq finds himself counting the vessels present and making a mental note of their number. Perhaps a habit gained from fighting the vast fleets of Barlat one too many times, but it is a habit he finds he cannot shake. He recognizes the familiar energy signatures given off by fleets once they reach one hundred thousand in number, two hundred thousand, three hundred thousand… Soon, he realizes the Triskelion have gathered over one million vessels here around their station. It is impressive indeed; most powers would fear such vast vessel counts, but the Pords, having grown accustomed to allies and enemies alike fielding such great hosts, do not. nam-Kyzhaq can only marvel at how even though the Triskelion fleet is impressively extensive, the stations DS-1 and DS-2 prove to dwarf even the gathered complement of sprawling star destroyers and super star destroyers.

Now the Pords are coming, and they too are dwarfed by the imperial splendour of the battlestations. Many of the veterans gape in amazement as their vessels draw near the stations; even the mighty VRZ Rekazhenvolash, the ship of legend, right hand of the Hunters and mighty dreadnought of the Alabaster Kingdom, was a mere twenty-five thousand kilometers from stem to stern. It too would have been dwarfed, had it lived to sail the fabrics here.

On one Pordish battlewagon, the VRZ Pitching Seas, a High Hunter sits on the bridge eyeing the displays eagerly. Stretching for over two hundred kilometers bow-abaft, the sheer size of the vessel guarantees it a spot at the centre of a dreadnought sphere. It is indeed a flagship of sorts, finished in blue and turquoise, and advancing purposefully with a certain stoic Nalydian fortitude that oft emanates from the vessels of the High Hunter’s Navy. She turns slightly to accept the incoming tractor beams, and then with a slight signal to her escorting Grazhnichonzheron reactor ships to cut loose their Array linkings, she begins the arduous process of aligning with the berths. A pair of gravitic tugs accompany her, aiding the bloated ship in her endeavour, prodding, pushing, and pulling where they need to. It slides into position without issue in a timely manner, and – in typical Nalydian fashion – though it is dwarfed by the battlestations, it still maintains a handsome margin of size over the other vessels present.

But such things cannot be helped. The VRZ, not known for going about things half-heartedly or seeking a cheap way out, gladly spends more on these singular vessels (not that they are few in number - far be it from the High Hunters to have a small navy) than other nations do on their entire fleets. It is a costing thing, mainly. The superkapital ships of the VRZ, vast and expensive as they are, but surprising agile (and not-so-surprisingly durable in the line of battle) are much more difficult to replace should they be lost, and their generational crews - Pords who have grown up on the ships and call them home - are irreplaceable.

Thus, Admiral nam-Kyzhaq looks out across the fabrics, taking in the sights of the battlestation and the numerous warships sailing about them, and clears his mind. As his ship docks in the gargantuan hangar (easily the largest in the known universe, he ponders bemusedly to himself, thinking of the open-space shipyards the Pords so prefer), he readies himself to meet the waiting Triskel entourage. He motions for his aid and two from his personal guard to accompany him. They are quick to acquiesce, and soon the small group is making its way through the bowels of the rift cruiser and to the gangplank so they may exit, with a colour guard falling in line professionally behind them.

Striding out in front of his men, nam-Kyzhaq moves with firm readiness. Dressed down in a standard VRZ blue frock coat with shoulder-length cape to complement it, he is easy to discern from his men who follow him clad in blue tunics and trousers both trimmed in a charcoal-black hue and sporting what appear to be fur hats emblazoned with the likeness of a single tundra wolf on the front of each. Their large GAR-25s are slung around their shoulders as they scurry to catch nam-Kyzhaq; it is more of a traditional thing than anything else; having come to the heart of the Triskel navy, if they wanted nam-Kyzhaq dead, the few guards with him would not realistically be able to stop them.

Regardless, that thought is far from the mind of nam-Kyzhaq as he walks towards the contingent waiting for him. He stops to bow to the Empress, completing the task in a single fluid motion, before addressing her directly:

It is both an honour and a pleasure to meet with you, nam-Anastasia, he says, using the Nalydian honorific as a measure of respect. He then turns to her guards, saluting them both as they stand splendidly in their black power armour before stepping off to the side slightly.

Behind him, the colour guard reaches their place and comes to a halt. They have the banners of the VRZ – a trident standing defiantly atop a shimmering turquoise field – and of Nalydya herself. There is a brief moment of silence as the men stand at attention before the anthem of Triskel is played by the band of the Polynya’s Visit. It is a grand tune and nam-Kyzhaq and his guards are compelled to silence; they are similarly silent when the Nalydian anthem begins and its various stanzas are played though. Following the completion of both anthems, nam-Kyzhaq steps back and motions to the band; they move back and plant themselves firmly in the ground behind the colour guard as their banners flutter slowly from the slight draft.

[The Fedral Union]

TAS Lexington SCG-91
The Lexington soon found itself even more insignificant in its size as it entered this ethereal and wistful like realm, created within the substructure of the metaverse, how surreal it was for this one Terran ship to be lead by their allies to place completely foreign from most of what they knew; but wasn't their own universe completely foreign for them? The Strike cruiser was one of the most powerful ships in the Terran Arsenal aside from the larger dreadnoughts and battle ships; yet here and now it closely followed the Pordish ships in this realm, rendered completely minuet in size by the massive planetoids structures, the larger ships species and persons they had never met.

They where at least fulfilling one part of their primary mission, to explore places that no others would, and here they would find just hope unique their allies are, and hopefully some cultural mysteries would be solved. Yet what kind of things where here, and yet to be discovered where still an unknown for the Lexington and its crew; the sleek angled Terran ship followed the IFF frequencies of the Pordish signatures on screen, sensors becoming fuzzy for a split second before adapting as moved along, the constants and variables of the universe seemed different here but in a sense the same as their native realm.

The Terran Alliance was well versed in the idea of universes with in universes; and manifolds with in manifolds to an infinite degree, that was what quantum foam was inherently made up of, expanding and contraction wormholes and micro verses, so it was hardly that surprising that such a place existed to them; they had to take precautions to make sure their own main power core was stabilized and shielded to make the transition. This was a testament to Terran ingenuity; and the Lexington’s sophont's thinking ahead.


-“Just when you thought you knew your friends…. They bring you to a place like this.. Well then; lets be glad their on our side eh?-

Collins said though the digital telelink; she shifted in her command chair slightly her mind intertwined and entangled palatially with the ships avatar networking to other senior officers on the ship, Lexington replied with a calm and collective tone in his voice.

-”Impressive structures to say the least; all my scans indicate armadas of ships.. Massive armadas of ships. It makes logical sense in a way, but I am quite interested to learn more about this culture.. As I'm sure you are.“-

Collins couldn't disagree, she was and had to be many things; space and the unknowns it provided had made it a requirement for officers in all positions to be in a sense tacticians, scientists, and engineers. And of course diplomats, while there where specialized fields for each on ships and in government, in the wildness of the universe a commanding officer and indeed the ships avatar/ sophont had to be adaptable.

-”Follow the Pordish ships to docking positions or orbit, we'll transpose to where we need to meet our friends, commander Kikar.Il.. You've got the ship. Don't give it up.”-


Collins jovially said , she stood from her seat adjusting her black gold and platinum trimmed command uniform resting her command cap upon her head, that brunette hair she had was somewhat short and in the style of a standard military cut. The Mastoid nodded; with a few clicks of his mandibles and a heavy accented voice.

-”Well then; good luck, I assume you're going alone or taking a detail of...?”''-

Collins shook her head in a plain non verbal reply; it wasn't the Terran way to bring weapons to a meeting of peace. Her gaze now fell upon the holographic sensor readouts then toward a sensor port to view the outside of the ship taking in the oncoming titanic structures and the magnitude of an entirely different plane, it seem much like hyper space yet it wasn't it seemed to be its own meta stable domain within hyperspace, much theorized by Terran scientists and sophonts.

With the troubles of the GESO left behind and now in the back of her mind; she stepped toward a clear spot in the back of the CIC, only one other officer flanking her. In an unimpressive shimmer her form and the form of her escort seemed to dissipate out of existence; toward the indicated meeting spot, it took some adjusting for the transposer to work properly, but in an instant she and her second officer along with a projection of Lexington’s avatar came in to existence; the authorities were of course warned before hand.

She, and her second officer Ornal Bannon let their eyes wander in amazement taking in sight and sound of what was around them. They quickly turned their attention to matters at hand, still in a way looking toward the pordish hunters or officers for guidance for now. Yes the Terran's where advanced, they could perceive things with tools and the assistance of their Sophonts that many in their universe could; and they could manipulate many fundamental things that made the metaverse ,preform feats that may have seemed impossible but never estimated that they where the experts in everything that they knew all. They weren't gods, they weren't letting hubris or arrogance control them, not like many people of species before, they had learned from their past.

They where the anti-epitome to those Eldaarich powers or powers who wielded the “arcane” arts for ever expanding empire, it was mostly because of those powers the Terran's were pushed so far ahead technologically and vowed not to make the same mistakes if they attained any measure of technologies presented. And so far they had held true to their principles, and their ideals. They had faced the challenges of the warp; the great burns created by the mighty scythe's of demonically influenced chronosian invasions; the near destruction of their people after the introduction of the arrogant Sith empire that was no more, and extra galactic threats. They made mistakes like any mortal beings would but; they never faltered from their principles and common goals. Astropolitics where complex, it was a face of life, another fact of life was that they, they still and much to learn about others and other people and other species in the universe and beyond.

Bet things as they where, Collins bid greetings to those they where meeting following custom and protocol...

[The Triskelion Federation]

Anastasia graciously preformed the Imperial salute out of respect for Admiral nam-Kyzha bowing to her.

Behind Anastasia was a pair of large blast doors which silently slid open to reveal five clone troopers who's armour was marked with the five different colours of the Clone Armies. Leading the way was Clone Commander Wolfe wearing phase I battle armour, carrying his helmet between his waist and his arm. Between them they commanded several hundred million men across the Empire and all of its territories, it was certainly considered a rare occasion to have all of them in one location. There was on distinction between most clones in the Empire and other clones in existence was that these commanders much like Anastasia has life spans of over 300 years so most of them present were barely a quarter a way through their actual life spans which made them young amongst some of their counter parts.

Wolfe approached Anastasia and saluted while the other commanders snapped to attention. "Formation reporting as instructed, Ma'am" Wolfe snapped out.

"Thank you all for responding to my orders so quickly gentlemen, have any of you had contact with Lord Apollyon? His body guards are here, as you can see" she said gesturing towards her to body guards in power armour stood next to her.

Pausing for a second, Wolfe appeared to be talking to someone through the communications network in his helmet though Anastasia could hear nothing coming from his speaker, though he may had muted it for a private conversation with someone else. After a few second he responded "Ma'am the Sith Lord will be docking soon, his fleet was having issues with a few rebels. He reports that his mission to the Cloners facility was a large success and that the new training system is a great success, he should be here any minute now, ".

"Thank you Wolfe, I always wonder if that Sith Lord pledging himself to our Empire was not worth our time but has yet to fail us yet. Anyway when he docks, I want him to join our meeting, I have a new job for him with out allies" she was about to continue but was stopped by a loud noise occurring across the large hangar bay.

The ceiling appear to split into two as a large destroyer lowered from the ceiling, it had clearly sustained damage in combat, some of it very recent as the scorch marks were still glowing a bright red. A low hissing noise could be heard as from different vents thousands of nanites were released into the air and began swarming around the destroyer. It looked as if a small storm was roaring its head inside the otherwise calm hangar but in reality this was how repairs were made aboard the stations. It only took a few minutes but soon after they vanished and the Destroyer appeared to be as if it was brand new and just out of the dock yards which it was originally built. Several large blue beams appeared from generators both above and below the ship appearing to hold it in perfect position while final repairs took place, it was truly an amazing sight for someone who hadn't seen it before. The introduction of nanites on a large scale had cut the cost of repairs by millions and even the amount spent on medication for those wounded had been cut down largely due to this live saving technology.

Suddenly two figures appeared to jump and fell thousands of feet from the bottom hangar doors of the star destroyer and slammed into the deck with a thunderous bang, both were Knights of the Steel Brotherhood in power armour. Both were carrying the standard issue mini-gun that came with the armour, allowing that great combat abilities and strength. Like a ghost, a third hooded figure slowly descended from the same doors and gently landed on the deck without a sound. With a quick nod the the three figures began to walk towards them and soon were right upon them, much like the destroyer when they landed, the man and Knights had battle damage and injuries but by the time they reached Anastasia all had vanished and the Knights armour looked like it also had been freshly produced out of factory.

The Figure soon was shown to be Lord Apollyon himself in his usual dark robes, around his waist was his two dark sabers that were his legendary weapons that struck fear into his enemies. Though a originally a Sith lord he was now more than that, he had an order of Knights that were undying in their devotion towards the Brotherhood. He had hundreds of thousands of Knights and millions of clone troopers at his command. Some would say that he was Anatasia's bulldog and when she needed something done, she would remove the chain. He never denied this rumour.

"My master, lord. I am here for this campaign briefing,I see you have brought allies with you Anastasia, I recognise the honourable Pords, I've seen them in combat before first hand yet I don't recognise our other guests.Care to explain?" the Sith Lord said with a gravely voice.

Anastasia gave Apollyon an icy stare through her dark red eyes and responded "You may be a powerful Sith Lord but don't forget your place here, you will honour my guests, do you understand me?"

Rolling his eyes the Sith Lord bowed and began walking away followed by his two Knights in their power armour, one glancing over their shoulder and shaking their head as they went.

Anastasia put a smile on and said in a clear with a gentle sigh. "Now we wait for the Terrans....or not apparently". With one motioned she rolled her eyes and snapped her figures.

With a bright flash the group found themselves sat in the meeting room. The room was rather small and dark for what would be a high level diplomatic meeting, in the center of the room was a large rectangular marble table, sat at the end was Anastasia and everyone else on either side, with the Admiral closest on her right hand side and the Terran ranking officer on her left. The edge of the room was lit by dark red lights, stood underneath them were Shock Troopers in their phase II clone armour, their armour marked with the blood red colour which represented the Shock trooper corps, tasked with defending Triskelion government officials and buildings. Stood with them at the far end of the circular room was Lord Apollyon who was stood at attention with the troopers.

Putting on a smile Anastasia stated "Now, if we are all done teleoporting around the station, I'd like to welcome you all to this Battle-station, while our Pordish allies may have known of their existence, I believe you, the Terrans have not met us before. I will now allow you several minutes to ask me any questions about my Empire you may wish to ask to save us time".

[The Fedral Union]

What is Peace? for 500 alex

Collins glanced around subtly then smiled she folded her hands on the table ; the officer next to her following her lead. The Terran's didn't seem to be astonished at the whole affair, in the back of their minds and especially in Collins mind they wondered if this was some sort of a trap, but kept their composure.

“We apologize for any inconvenience we may have caused by our transposing.. We thought our message about it reached your personnel. That said we do like to get to know cultures of different peoples across the galaxy; but I doubt you or I have the time for a philosophical and anthropological discussion.

I suggest we share data link information so more specialized people on our worlds may study it. Other than that, we've come unarmed, your sensors can verify that.”

Collins said in a clam voice with a somewhat casual tone at the end of her sentence. What ever was in store, they didn't know what was in store here exactly; they where obviously the only ones with no arms on their person; whatever the case was and the discomfort they experienced in this situation they had a job to do, and where stead fast to do it. Collins adjusted her cap and uniform in her usual semi defiant manner; it wasn't projected against anyone in particular.

The Lexington meanwhile was already docked; it was one ship ; dwarfed in its size by compression to any of the other ships around them. It was small but represented a nation that in its own right was powerful, but also peaceful yet their peace had been constantly shattered and thus they had to hone their own military and technological skills to a high degree. But-they hardly wanted to make an arrogant appearance, while their ships appeared devoid of weapons they where hardly unarmed as much as they where constructs of peace; they had all the aspects of a war ship, hidden under that sleek armor plating, emitter arrays and triple barreled lance guns along with various other weapons and missile tubes. But no one expected nor wanted any of those weapons to be used; it would have seemed like suicide to even attempt it. The Terrans where obviously here under peaceful circumstances and considered the Pords one of their closest allies any friends of theirs where in a way a friend of the Alliance..

Collins spoke leaning in her chair eyes glancing across the room she smiled diplomatically of course saying as a compliment.

“You certainly have a good measure of security here I must commend you”

A blip came through a comn unit.

“The Lexington has successfully docked [chitter chitter] we will proceed to [click click] tp keep the ship [click] in order.. M'ammmm.”

The mantoid accent was obvious Collins nodded and said with no qualms about anyone overhearing.

“Good; if we need anything we'll let you know, Collins out”


Collins turned her attention to the conference now; it was obvious they would have to word things a certain way. And respect local customs as much as thy could.

[Imperial Nalydya]

Of Pords and Triskeli

nam-Kyzhaq stifles a slight chuckle. How rude, he considers, thinking about the Terrans and their teleporting. For them, fortunately, they had done so onto a Triskeli station. Had they attempted to do so onto his flagship...

But they hadn't and that is all that matters. Just like the Alterrans... Too many powers use lazytech, he muses, those instruments of technology that go above and beyond in the aspect of removing effort from the equation. While Alterra and the Great Houses and all of Laptev and Barlat too spent inordinate amounts of time investing in teleportation and transporter technology, the Pords spent their time working on how to stop them. Not out of any great fear or lack of trust, but rather in the same way one might feel compelled to install stairs inside of a building in lieu of an elevator. There are military applications - that is a universal constant, that anything and everything will eventually be put to use in warfare - but warfare did not provide the primary impetus.

Of course, it was obvious in general that they hadn't come entirely prepared and were, at least somewhat, flustered; information on Treskelion, at least unclassified information such as things as simple as greetings and meeting customs, are easily accessible from Nalydian archives, but it would appear the Terrans had not availed themselves of that information. Reasoning aside, nam-Kyzhaq did find the entire ordeal somewhat interesting, if - on some level - perhaps odd.

We've come unarmed... she had gone on to say, and those words stuck in his mind. The absurdity is not lost on him; in a multiverse replete with individuals who, like the Sith Lord, are stilled possessed of great potential in the absence of personal weapons, or even the Pords themselves, the children of Jlokhemit, imbued with the power and ferocity of his season, and thus more than capable of mastering cold itself and commanding the component parts of his realm, to even mention such a thing...

Again he stifles a thought (what was it..? Amateurs, maybe? Spent too much damn time with the nations of Laptev. The old professionals...) and turns his attention to the Triskelion gathered:

An impressive degree of workmanship has gone into the construction here, nam-Kyzhaq notes. It's good to be among friends again.

[The Triskelion Federation]

Anastasia nodded quipped "Yes, a lot of man hours have gone into building these magnificent stations. They provide us with the ability to occupy entire universes and support multiple campaigns at once. The ability to have that force is issue the Empire suffered for many years until these came along, now we are truly stronger than ever before. Anyway I believe it is time to move ahead with our meeting and display why we are all here today."

With grace she moved her hand over the holo-table that sat in front of them, there was a gentle hum and the room was saturated in light blue as a hologram appeared of two planets, information regarding the planets was listed down the side, most of the information was pretty basic, enough to give an invading force the general idea of the system they were about to invade. The first planet was forest planet, thick in green tundra which would make the ability to move large numbers of troops over land a large challenge than it normally would. A bigger issue was that the planetoid suffered from storms which roared across the entire planet for hours a day made it nigh impossible for any beam weapon to be deployed due to the side effect of the beam dissipating soon after being projected by the weapon.Combined with the thick tundra, any army invading the planet would have a harsh time finding the defenders and actually being able to engage them before being able to escape again.

The second planet was a roaring inferno of lava streams, a former factory for the Empire that had drifted away while the master was away dealing with bigger issues, the occupying forces were some of the best resistance fighters the galaxy had ever seen. Using large formations the Empire has tried to retake the planet with huge losses each time it was attempted so it had been left to fester on the edge of space, until the right time could be picked to reclaim it and the shipyard once again could be used to produce the Imperial Navy's destroyers once again as they have rightfully done for the years that they had laid silent. Though the factories had not been completely dormant, the resistance fighters had build many hundreds of thousands of hidden emplacements around the planet which could suddenly spring up at any time an catch troops on the move at any moment in time.

Anastasia smiled as she allowed all the parties to read the facts about the planets before calming stating "Friends, allies , I brought you here today to set you a challenge, these two planets listed here are currently held by rebel scum and traitors of my fair Empire. It is with that I task you with regaining them for me and in return you will be honoured greatly across the Empire.The first green planet will be taken by the Terrans and their armies, with the support of Lord Apollyon and his knights and the second planet will be taken solely by our ally the Pords. We would like to use both planets after the conflict so please avoid destroying them in the process, we know how easily that comes with the weapons we have in these current times. Now if any of you have questions?"

[Imperial Nalydya]

nam-Kyzhaq
nam-Kyzhaq:

nam-Kyzhaq nods as he takes in all the information. He looks at the lava planet and shudders. They’ll have their hands full with this one, he concedes to himself. He scans the planetary information and sends it up to his flagship.

I presume we will be needing to fight our way to the surface? Do we have any information on the composition or existence of defending fleets?

He waves his hand towards the hologram, almost as if referencing it, before pressing a button on what appears to be his wrist-watch. From it comes holograms of the vessels of the Nalydian armada, appearing within relation to their target planet; the ships, vast and impressive, are to scale with the smoky world, but still easily seen.

My fleet should be sufficient, regardless. Observe –

Again he moves his hand; again it appears to be in reference to the central hologram; again he activates his wrist-watch.

Before them flash the components of nam-Kyzhaq’s fleet: some two thousand ships total, roughly. Most of the craft are non-combat or support types – Grazhnichonzheron reactor ships, Chalerna relay ships and an impressive panoply of gravitic tugs, assault transports and Chorkenzhel class runners – but the main battleline, if it can even be called a line, is indeed a sight to behold.

A half dozen spheres make up the primary section of nam-Kyzhaq’s real space contingent. Each formation is built around a massive Rekazhenvolash class command dreadnought, dwarfing asteroids, and arrayed around them in twenty thousand kilometer increments are Nyko Rekazhnar’an line dreadnoughts, the Grand Arbiters of the Will of Rekazhnar and the vessels of his pelagic grandeur. Further still from the center are the nam-Voznayte type line dreadnoughts, named for their proclivity towards danger and their sheer relative proximity to the enemy.

Stretching in grand orbits around these vessel-spheres are Dritzhalb, Nezhozhalb, and Chorzhalb class assault cruisers, infinitely smaller (their size would be more familiar to Terrans; they are all under twenty kilometers from bow to stern) and arrayed at such great distance as to put the overall edge of the Pordish formation multiple light seconds away from the center - even without the consideration of the Chorkenzhel, which orbit even further.

The holograms cut away now to a putrid realm, and it becomes obvious the technology is struggling to properly present just what it should be…

You’ll have to excuse me, nam-Kyzhaq says. He again presses a button on his watch and the hologram begins to focus, the energies of the rift coming into clear view for all to see. An eerie green glow overtakes the hologram… The unrefined rift. This is the final section of my fleet – the rift ships.

nam-Kyzhaq grins slightly as the holograms of the rift cruisers begin to fade into view, their hulls visibly dripping with putrid energies as they ply the sickly fabrics of that Jlokhemitforsaken realm. Their number is similar to the main contingent, but again their design stands in sharp contrast to the bulky real space vessels that were shown before. These ships are far sleeker and more elegant, designed with riftdynamics in mind, crafted so they slide easily though what serves, for all intents and purposes, as basically equivalent to the primordial pro-elemental soup that marked the earliest moments after the big bang exploded the NS-verse into coherent reality. There is no great variety of ships present, but rather the holograms focus on two distinct types – an aged Nezharekazh and the considerably newer Grazhni Chornalshi class. This does not take terribly long, and is soon completed.

I do not have any more questions, nam-Kyzhaq confirms. He ends the recording.


VRZ Blanketglacier, Assault Transport of Zhülnym’s Division
Heir to the Balnook name, High Hunter Tylaq Balnook:

Look at this shithole, exclaims Tylaq Balnook, a High Hunter of the black-cuffed Yamsai’an Guard. She squints as if looking in greater detail at the information, but this serves to only deepen her scowl. What the hell is nam-Kyzhaq getting us into?

Her aid, a simple Pord named Rytek, can only manage a nod.

We have four divisions of Paramarines, Tylaq. This shouldn’t present an issue. The Paramarine commander.

Tylaq frowns. The track record of the Paramarines is sketchy, at best. Their greatest moment, Feldmarschall Keegan’s ill-fated Unternehmen Vonshenkor was never completed. She recalls watching through the tapes of that operation… The shield wall stretching out into the Pacific, the millions of Kiran warplanes screeching overhead (plastering the beachhead), the return fire, sporadic but unyielding, the massive fireball that told of the destruction of the Jewel of the Pacific…

And then one image, one that constantly burns in her mind: an unending line of gray-and-butternut clad men snaking through the Japanese countryside, moving away from the enemy, withdrawing simply because Japan broke away from Kira’s Kingdom and was taken in by a faction that was allied with Nalydya…

How… Insulting.

Very… Comforting, she drones with a slight, nearly imperceptible, tinge of sarcasm. You will need to clear us a landing zone. We won’t step foot on those volcanic slopes so you’re going to need to do something about them with your fighters.

I think that can be arranged, the Paramarine commander agrees. I do like this area – he points to a portion of the planet and the hologram zooms in – where the plains appear to be a bit more solid. We can send in Reid’s veterans first. They will touch down and clear the path for your troops. I will attach all of the Grazhnichonzheron brigades to this initial wave and they will flatten the slopes and corral the lava.

Tylaq nods as she rotates the hologram, looking for areas that betray the existence of heavy defenses or indeed areas in general that blatantly reveal heavy defenses or anything remotely similar. The various facilities will need to be taken, but that should be easier for her troops than the Paramarines. After all, the Paramarines are not Hunters. Her lot, the Yamsai’an Guard, are some of the best damn soldiers Imperial Nalydya has to offer. Privately, she even considers them better than the Guards of Jlokhemit, but only actual combat can prove that.

Ihn Chänzhye, she says, excusing herself from the room.

[The Fedral Union]

This decision was way above Collins pay grade she expected to be here as an emissary of peace, not war. And certainly not to get the Terran Alliance enthralled in a foreign entanglement of conflict, there was already enough going on in the first domain, or the universe the milky-way was in. She looked around, keeping her calm smile and demeanor she said folding her hands before her the officer beside her eagerly awaiting what she had to say.


-”The the Terran Alliance is not in the business of imperialism; however.. Given the circumstances and the request by our allies for assistance. I can make no other decision on behalf of my people but to contact my chain of command in regards to this.”


Its just the way things worked; she couldn't on a whim draw the entirety of the Terran Alliance in to a war witch for all intensive reasoning had nothing to do with them solely, and even she had reservations about the whole affair; but on the other hand they could ill afford to let a conflict involving “force users” spill over in the milky-way or the universe they where from. She disliked sith in general, and quite distrusted them. With a swift fluid motion she tapped on the back of her hand; it took but a split second to relay the situation up the chain of command. With a sigh she waited not visibly shaken of course. Just obviously in contemplation, they had not at any point in time agree to do any sort of combat operations. She politely broke her silence; with her soft voice.


“If I may, the Terran Alliance has not agreed weather to support your endeavor or not; our government as foreign as it is to many of your peoples, have a process of decision making they must attend too before making such a commitment. The truth is; aside from “Insurrections” witch are by far internal affairs of a state. What threat would it pose to us.”

The Terran's Certainly were wary of intervening in the sovereign affairs of foreign powers, aside from the fact of slavery or undue suffering the Alliance had no desire on principle alone to get involved.

---

Office of the Terran Alliance joint chiefs of staff

“Requesting what?, Why?...”

Admiral Bronson exclaimed his eyes displaying surprise and utter disbelief, The Holo emitter next to him with the avatar of the Lexington and Secretary of State Malcolm Shore beside him.

-”The Prodish government on behalf of their allies are requesting operation requesting assistance, in the form of peace keeping forces. To restore order on one of their worlds; my own analysis is that if the technology that is available to them to cross in to our domain is used by either side so we could have an outbreak involving “force” users fighting one another in any number of locations..”

General Bronson drummed his fingers; it wasn't his call, he didn't like the sound of this but he had to weigh the risk, a peace keeping mission wasn't all that bad to prevent a spill over but he was no politician. Thus he looked over to Secretary of State shore.. Who was already mulling the entire affair over

“This isn’t even in our universe… But your saying if things get bad enough it could be?”

Bronson was mute; Lexington replied quite frankly.


-“There is a possibility, and such a thing could destabilize and siphon Pordish forces; who are one of the biggest contributors to the GRF and operations we conduct to the conflict; and it could have repercussions within our own universe as well.”

Bronson had enough to deal with in the milky way, let along another sub verse; Shore chimed in with an exasperated expression on his face.

“The president is going to find this to be a tough pill to swallow, and the senate is going to have a fit…The details sound like a usual tyrannical power grab… This complicates matters. Admiral Bronson, your take?”


The Admiral looked to shore and replied looking over the information; he had almost a disgusted look on his face.

“It wont be easy; we'll have to commit a significant force; can I speak freely Mr secretary?”

Shore nodded he placed a hand on his chin, pondering the whole endeavor,


Bronson in his usually coarse voice hands folded on the desk above said promptly.


“I'm a military officer, I'll follow orders and so will our people, but I find an issue with the fact that we are throwing forces in to a battle to assist for the lack of a better term a tyrant. I'm no politician Mr Secretary but I'm not comfortable sacrificing what we stand for to satisfy these people.”

Shore nodded; he felt the same way, he knew where Bronson was coming from, then the cogs in his mind began to turn; must be a way out of this that satiated both sides; they couldn't very well abandon the Pords who where completely alien in a way to their thinking.

“I'll figure something out, we need to meet with the president first.”

Bronson nodded; the man in his crisp platinum lined black uniform with golden epaulettes on his shoulders; and decorations across his chest stood forth; Lexington transferred in an instant while the two men walked toward the Office of the President.

---

The Executive office.

“Ma'dam President.”

Bronson presented himself saluting to the female half wolvian who shifted in her chair her eyes were longingly looking out toward the vibrant living city scape and crisp blue skies, the incandescent light seemed to make things glow.

Shore nodded with a half smile, the president let out a sign, hands against her armrests then folded upon her waist.

-”I reviewed the information sent to me; you want me, to ask this nation to send in its men women and other salient’s in to a region we have no business nor reason for being in; to keep the peace for an empire?

We're not a police force, and we're not certainly ones to subjugate a world in the name of another power.”


Mr Shore took the lead on this , Bronson was quiet but in a mull of thought. “Ma'dam president, I might have a plan so that if we do assist our allies it wont be in the name of.. Conquest.”

President Galloway nodded she would entertain the idea for now; but the moral implications the social implications and frankly the implications of our principles would be dire. They would be nothing without them they would betray the very thing they were and have always been against. Shore began to speak his voice lacking its natural luster.


“We, make it clear to the Pordish people and their allies; we're not going to send forces in to combat unless the following conditions are met.

First. The world in question is not to be put under the control of their empire, second we can broker some sort of two worlds different systems approach; protectorate perhaps?

Second. Negations between the two parties MUST be a factor; if we can mediate the dispute between moderate elements on both sides we can prevent a spill over or a complete damage in relations with our pordish allies.

Third, we speak to the Pords, and work closely with them; we must have their key diplomatic leverage in this to make sure any of this works. It may be their verse, but they want our help, if we can get our allies to reign in the fanatical desire to quench the personal and political liberties of a planet and make it known to them that in the long run, it will ferment less discord; less future rebellions and better economic relations for both sides. I think we can pull off at the very least a partition. “

Galloway drummed her furred fingers against the quaint red oak desk; her eyes showing genuine unease, it took a moment Bronson gave a slight nod. Then she said with a lamenting voice; knowing they where playing poker in a sense and standing on the edge.

“Convene the Interstellar Security Committee.. I want options, for now we'll go with what Mr Shore has put forth; hopefully I can convince the senate on the grounds of a spill over the destabilization of an allied force supporting our efforts, and the clear fact that we will not be going in to pave the way to tyranny through the barrel of a displacer or any other form. “

Shore nodded; Bronson nodded; now it was time to get things in order, after the ISC had been met with it took merely a second or so l back at the conference a holographic image of Malcolm Shore, still handsome yet more defined especially around his face, denoting a man of an older age. It took an hour or so before things came to ahead.

---

Conference.

“I'm Secretary of State Malcolm Shore; sorry I cant be there in person but the information you've given our government suggest this is an internal matter; but could have wide ranging consequences even in our universe. Our government for an allotted time period until our senate comes to a vote has decided to support a peace keeping operation under certain conditions -he spoke professionally without a hint of arrogance in his voice .-

That if we are to involve ourselves in your affairs, it is only because the Pordish people have done much force us, even so we have a history of being under subjugation and threat ourselves; and we wont support a military action that will perpetuate another power from doing the same thing.

My second point is you see. -The folded his hands life like in figure- That I'm quite sure your brake away worlds could come to an agreement of either a partition or shared devolution of political power. Our joint chiefs and our sophonts have all agreed that there may be an amount of peacekeeping needed to quell the radical elements on these worlds; but first you must see that radical retribution or any sort of harsh occupation might perpetuate and ferment matter in the long term. Creating yet more crisis’s down the line that you must spend resources and again expend people to deal with.

While with a more moderate approach you may gain much more in the long term than you would lose immediately. We do not want our soldiers our men, women, sophonts, ships to shed blood be destroyed in vain. I'm sure you would agree with that at least. One empire two systems, partitioning and the peacekeeping forces pacifying radical elements in open revolt; could very well avoid a long campaign and a repeated one at that.

If you agree or propose a compromise we could very well come to a satisfactory conclusion. - Shore patiently waited he didn't seem over smug nor under “common” for a Terran but he did drive to the point.


Collins folded her hands before her; she spoke out as Shore remained in waiting.

“We've been authorized to deploy gate probes to several positions near the opposing forces world, in order to draw our fleets in to properly conduct operations, She looked to a Pordish colleague and spoke.“ Space time here is different in a way; we might need to examine the data of how you jumped in to modify the gate systems to allow us to do the same. With little consequence. -Turning quickly back to the persons who had given them their - “assigned planet”. She said - I must ask what do you know about the leadership of these planets?”

[The Triskelion Federation]

The Imperial Armada

The Star Destroyer that Andrew had been stationed aboard had been ordered to join a large formation of large other vessels whom were en route to a nearby system. Each vessel in the fleet carried thousands upon thousands of troopers to control the swathes of Imperial territory through time and space. With precision the fleet appeared out of hyperspace within orbital bombardment range of the green forested planet. Within seconds thousands of fighters soared around the fleet as was standard procedure when appearing in enemy space. Now they waited for orders from above, since they were the Plan B.

Passing an oiled rag over his DC-15 blaster rifle, Andrew glanced over across the hangar, thousands of troops and pilots were rushing about preparations for what seemed to be an imminent orbital assault, when in reality they had been stationed there for several days now. Combat drills were be completed nearly everyday now, he looked down at his helmet which rested on the bulbus cockpit of the Low Atmosphere Assault Transport, he recently had added the blue paint of the 501st regiment. To his left he heard the clacking of someone approaching and noticed his squad leader Holly Knokes approaching with two other troopers strangling behind her.

With a bit of cockiness in her voice mocked "I see you have found use for these drop-ships then Andrew?" She said while nodding towards the gunship.

Picking up his helmet from the gunship and placing it on he retorted "Yes Ma'am. I thought if the pilots weren't going to drop us onto that hellhole of the planet I'd use it as a place to have clean my rifle and nap".

Knokes tilted her head and let out a slight chuckle "That is true, we have been waiting here for a long time now, this is your first deployment with the 501st, I hoped you'd have a more exciting deployment rather than watching a planet from afar".

Jumping from the gunship he landed right next to her with a gentle thud, placing his DC-15 on the magnetic plate on the back of his armour he responded "I was hoping that we'd begin an immediate assault on the rebel world down there. I've counted at least forty new vessels join our fleet, including seven SSDs and other large trooper carriers, by my estimate we have a couple of million troops here, including the 212th Air Assault Corps. It just seems odd...you know..waiting for something to happen".

Knokes looked at the young stormtrooper and smiled "You will go far in this regiment, Waring. The word coming down the chain of command at the moment is we are waiting on the arrival of Terran forces to lead the assault on this one but their political masters are having ethical debates, you know, like politicians do, rather than leading their people like our Empress preaches and practices nearly everyday".

The group began to walk away from the gunship, around them were other siege vehicles and weapons.

"I now see why we had our civil war and killed off the large political class, this just displays how far we have come from being stranded on a single rock and now one of the largest and most powerful Empires in existence under the rule of Anastasia and soon Elizabeth. I guess people seem to forget that our fair Empire has trillions of citizens and billions of planets under its reign. Myself being from a farming planet, I'd never have the chance to do this if it weren't for the Empire's vast reaching fist".

"You don't need to argue a case with me, Waring. If it were up to me, I'd launch the assault and burn the planet to a cinder and send the rebels to the nearest salt mine for the rest of their shitty little lives. I however have heard our close friends the Pords are taking up positions for our other target. Anyway, I must inspect the rest of our regiment on deck-C. Fall in trooper" she said transitioning from friend to squad leader.



-------------------------------------------------------------------------------



The Conference

The mood of the room had changed since the Terrans had spoken to their politicians in their high castles.

Anastasia stared blankly for a second and appeared to be pinching herself with her right hand before rejoining reality.

"You don't seem to understand the situation that you are in right now. This isn't a negotiating, I do not negotiate. I am Empress Anastasia, First of my name, Defender of the First Order and defending the First order is what I plan on doing with this operation. Both these planets at hand are Imperial property and by extension of this, their citizens, resources and the air that we so kindly allow them to breath. I am giving you a chance to walk among one of the giants here, prove your battle capability to me. As an Empire we've spilled the blood our of troops for centuries for our allies alike, Pords, Nova Spartans, Alterrans and Tarakians alike without discussing the ethicity of the situation. So I kindly ask you do the same" Anastasia boomed.

Noting that Anastasia was flustered by the situation, Lord Apollyon appeared from the shadows and waved his hand through the hologram deck and displayed the green planet.

"I've had several Recon units stationed on the planet ahead of this operation, while their people have literally no space units to our knowledge, their ground units are quite advanced and very well dug in. As a society they seem to live in underground cities that are well protected from any kind of orbital bombardment, though we never reached these cities before the recon units suddenly all went dark at the same time. Which in itself causes me great mystery as I cannot see what happened to them through the force, which worry's me greatly.

The thick bush makes any use of large vehicles nearly impossible unless you wish to use flamethrowers on a large scale because beam weapons simply do not work on this planet, while we have found that blasters do work to an extent with some modification. If you manage to find yourself on the surface with a large enough army to conquer the system you will find that they know the terrain better than you and have snipers nests in nearly every tree or it seems to feel that way, bunkers will appear and then vanish just leaving the dead behind to burn. I understand you fear for the life of your servicemen but you won't be on the ground alone, I have mustered the Empire's top armies to help smash the enemy once and for all" Apollyon spoke with a calm and low tone.

Walking across to the Pords he changed the display with a wave of his hand.

"You my honourable allies have the much harder task of taking on the fleet and ground targets that we simply couldn't dent with our firepower and tactics so we thought, who is bigger, badder and scarier than we could ever possibly be? That lead me straight to you. Your combat record is nearly impeccable and not I would want to face you on the battlefield in a single fight. We know very little about their space units but there ground forces, as stated are quick and use their terrain to their advantage. Being a former Star Destroyer factory they do not lack weapons or spare parts to cause chaos with, do expect many traps to be awaiting you on the surface once you touch down. Staying in one place will be suicide so I suggest keeping mobile. I wish I had more for you but I don't and I can only wish you best of luck in your campaign and we will assist you in every way possible once this campaign begins. I also implore you to convince the Terrans that this mission is not some kind of ethical debate and that they can take that to their government body".

Apollyon once and strode off into the darkness of the room allowing Anastasia to take the floor.


-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ground Assault Preparation- Planet Virgil

On the belly of flagship T.S Irone Duke a small opening began to appear, not big enough to launch a vessel but bigger than a fighter. Suddenly there was a bright flash as a missile burner activated and began roaring towards the green marble beneath the grey giants which circled the planet.

Within minutes of being launched the missile pierced the atmosphere and the detonation process began with a yellow flash, a fire ball the size of several destroyers swathed in all directions, incinerating trees and whatever happened to be in the path of the flames. From orbit it appeared as if the planet itself was catching on fire, in reality the SUN device which had been launched was using the oxygen in the atmosphere to feed and fuel the firestorm which was consuming a small portion of the planet.

Andrew stood on the command deck, a few other Clone Troopers and Stormtroopers stood around and were watching as well, it was the first time in several decades such a weapon had been deployed, let alone in a combat situation. He took note that within a second it seemed as if the firestorm has completely come to a halt, in its wake it had left a barren area which would be perfect for the Empire to lands its massive amount of troops and resources that would be required for a large scale planetary invasion.

Out the corner of his eye, Andrew noted that several thousand vessels had already started their move towards the planet, as expected an alarm activated on the bridge which signaled all troopers that it was time to ready themselves for immediate ground combat. The sound of clacking boots filled the bridge as those who were watching went to their battle positions, there was a slight hissing noise as the seal was completed around his neck, he gave one look over his shoulder as he ran towards the hangar bay where the rest of the 501st would be preparing for it's turn to get their boots dirty on like many troopers had before. His heart was racing because it was his first operation on the ground out of simulations, stepping into the teleporter with other crew members he took one deep breath and then vanished in a bright blue flash.

[Imperial Nalydya]

Pride and Prejudice
nam-Kyzhaq:

nam-Kyzhaq looks to the Terran delegation. A slight expression of surprise washes over his face for a brief instant before he reins himself in; he considers what they have said, but does not find himself in agreement. He recalls the days of fighting alongside the Empire of Shay to quell the rebellion on New Skardu. No one questioned the ethicality of supporting them – it was simply a standard show of support for allies. And he had done well. In the orbitals of New Skardu he had given the Serdari (the protectors of the rebels - and a power in disagreement with his bombardment of the world) a battle for the history books, and to this day his victory is studied in academies across the verse.

Of course he isn’t in any position to question the methods of the Terrans. He understands the complexity of bureaucracies and he knows of the myriad levels of command and control that many such nations have established for themselves. Fortunately Nalydya has gone beyond that. His formation, operating under the direct supervision of VRZ command, is free from the tribulations of a civilian government interfering in the day-to-day operations of a military organization.

Even still he recognizes the merits that such a system has. Pords are cautious by nature and it is thus inherently understood (albeit unwritten) commanders should not put themselves into a situation that might cause an escalation of hostilities between Nalydya and outside powers. He ostensibly is the ultimate decision maker for the 3rd fleet, and is cleared to represent Nalydya on the world stage. Rarely do commanders exercise malprudence to such a degree that Nalydya would be put in danger. No Pord would dare challenge the armadas of Barlat alone; no Pord would hazard a contest against the Laptev Axis. But this – this is a minor operation and the adversaries nonentities. It would be insulting to posit nam-Kyzhaq's exertion of final consideration should actually be beyond him. This is what passes through his mind – the simple thought that the Terrans are so encumbered by politics that their officers are incapable of acting on information in the field without deferring the matter to a higher authority. An overgeneralization, perhaps, but nam-Kyzhaq has seen these types before. Where he has moved to save his men and their lives, others have lost theirs waiting for replies and clearance from elsewhere.

But again it might just be borne out of habit that, Nalydian officers - having grown accustomed to such freedom in the field - are so well-conditioned to the vigors of international politics. nam-Kyzhaq knows that where he made his name battles were considerably more difficult. Star-polities were all too apt to unleash blanket FTLi and comms and sensory jamming over entire battlespaces that commanders needed to be able to operate without supervision. But now in this verse, the new home verse for the Pords, such systems seem to be largely absent. He has even been hard pressed to figure out why he should even bother to fight in real space at all, but that is another matter entirely…

I do no portend to speak for your government, he addresses in reply to Collins, however it would be best if you were to join us in this endeavour without such added complications. He stops to mull over what to say next. He chews on the words before they even come out of his mouth, feeling each and considering their weight. You must understand – the Empire, Triskel, does not require your aid. Concerning yourselves with the well-being of those on your planet is liable to cause a much worse situation for them. Our operations here do not concern their safety, and as such interfering with Triskelion operations will serve only to make things worse. He stops to collect his thoughts again before continuing: Oh... And yes, I will get you in contact with my chief tactical adviser. He will have the information you are looking for with regards to the gates and jumping, he tacks onto the end, almost as if an afterthought.

He realized it was blunter than he had intended, but such things happen, and it is oft more troublesome to prevent them than accept with. Since familiarizing himself with the Terrans and how they operate he has developed a peculiar… Set of opinions on them. They aren’t nearly as bad as some nations, Barlat nations, with whom Nalydya has found herself at odds with in the past, but nevertheless certain national opinions and objectives are indeed eerily similar between the ancient races of the Concordiat and the Terrans here. That the Ishii carried themselves in a manner not unlike the Terrans is indeed more disturbing than it rightfully has any business being, but one can hardly blame the Pords for their caution. Myei syn'Ryall and ten million Ishii warships had descended upon the System Yamsai accompanied by a conveniently allied host of Kirans of near equal number to bring war to the capital of the Yamsai’an Hunters. Of course the Pords, and by an extension nam-Kyzhaq, would tend to view such moral crusades with an experienced air of dubiousness; Ish’Cong and Kira’s Kingdom both expostulated superiority from positions atop some self-conceived highground of morality, and along with the GRA, NFPA, the embarrassingly inept JVP, and the entire faction of OMNA, tended to draw the ire of many of the more realistically minded of the star-states.

This is not to say his opinion of them is bad, but rather, it is a mixture of practiced political acumen and what could only pass for… Pity. He shakes his head again as he thinks of the requests made by Collins; again he thinks about the realities of the situation and the relations between Triskel and the Terrans. The meeting had gotten tense rather quickly (that came as a surprise to nopord, all things considered), and it was apparent that no headway was going to be made. On the other hand, it was admirable Collins was able to maintain her composure and present such a counteroffer when surrounded by literally millions of warships of a nation she has only just made first contact with. He recalls the actions of Heinz and von Begin, the great twin admirals of the VRZ, who - during the Great Betrayal - had half a million warships between them (the most powerful fleet ever assembled by Imperial Nalydya) but even still were outnumbered and outgunned hideously by the combined might of the US0A, the Beornician GKLs and the United States. But Heinz and von Begin both were willing to fight to the last man, even against the most powerful defensive network in that universe, and perhaps it was this willingness in the end that proved to save them.

nam-Kyzhaq has no such confidence in the Terrans.


VRZ Blanketglacier, Assault Transport of Zhülnym’s Division
The Yamsai’an Guard

She can hear the familiar thrum of the reactors as they come to life, teeming with the rancid power of the rift as the reactors siphon stored energies out of the power cells and convert the untamed sickly realm into something usable for the ship. It isn’t a perfect process, but it works well enough. The excess is vented out into the void – the reason Nalydian vessels have massive funnels – and thus serves as evidence that Nalydya has not yet perfected the art of using the rift to power her ships. Nevertheless the realm still provides for considerably more power than other means, and Jlokhemitdamn it, the High Hunter’s navy would not be capable of fielding such vessels if not for the realm. Moving the vast bulk of many of the ships in the VRZ would be next to impossible if not for the power of the realm. Most of the veterans remember the earlier days of the VRZ – the HRF, or Hochraumflotte as it was known then – when vessels were required to sail under their own power and had to lug exceedingly large amounts of fuel with them. Nothing moved with any great speed in those days. Even the Kenzhelengrazhni class assault transports, a mere modest seventeen kilometers from stem to stern, would plod along if using the more aged propulsion methods. The most impressive pieces of technology in the VRZ are not her weapons, sensors, or defenses, but rather her propulsion systems.

I will lead the initial breach myself, Tylaq says to the gathered, pointing to her wrist displays, and we will land here. This initial phase will include the landing of a contingent of Paramarine Raiders as well as our underground fighter detachment, which I will oversee the deployment of. These damn lava pools will give us a headache otherwise.

How are we going to deal with these lava pools? asks one of Tylaq’s subordinates, a young brigade commander named Chülyat Kolnav. She stands next to Tylaq, huddled close along with the other brigade commanders - all in a semi-circle around Tylaq.

I expect we will need to maintain our Arrays. Be sure to clarify with your troops that Arrays will need to remain online for the entire duration of our time here. I’ve already spoken with commanders within the Rezhnam formations and they are more than willing to provide us with suitable structures for operations here. This terrain is not going to make things easy.

Chülyat nods and makes a note; her aid takes note of the information as well. I assume we will flatten areas we want to use and move from there, she continues to question.

Tasi. Until we have better information about these lava flows it’s best to stay far from them. The enemy should be taking up residence within the structures of the industrial areas anyway so I don’t think that should be much of an issue.

Chülyat frowns. The thought of dodging lava flows and being forced into the cramped confines of street fighting is not appealing. But then again, the entire planet fails to sound appealing. Alright, she musters, slightly adjusting her rifle, I think I can make do with that.

She bows to the High Hunter and hurriedly retires; Tylaq watches her until she disappears around a corner, undoubtedly returning to her command post.

That is all for now, Tylaq tells the other officers, and they too pay their respects and begin to retire.

I’ve received word from the captain we will be setting sail here soon, Rytek.

Tasi?

Yes – make sure things are in order for the assault. We may need to do this under fire.

Tasi, Rytek replies.

The vessel shudders slightly as it begins to move, edging slowing away from her berth in the DS. The entirety of Zhülnym’s division has begun to move from their positions and are taking up formation some distance away. Gravitic tugs dart this way and that, helping to maneuver the behemoth warships about, and ensuring that the heavy assault transports, pregnant with men and materiel, do not drift into a quay. The shuddering comes to a halt nearly as quickly as it began; the inertial dampeners kick into high gear, masking the acceleration of the vessel away from her berth.

Rytek too is gone, leaving Tylaq to her own devices. With an assault imminent, there are plenty of things that need to be tended to…

She soon finds herself at the Blanketglacier Shrine, the ship’s own place of worship. It is a simple set up (completely unlike the massive shrines on some of the older battlewagons that stretched, literally, for dozens of kilometers), but one that adequately serves the needs of the ship-crew. As an officer of the ZJR, the High Hunter’s army, she does not often have access to such luxuries. Battlefields on far-flung worlds in remote corners of the universe do not often present themselves as great places of worship. Yet paradoxically, as a High Hunter too, she has a greater obligation to Jlokhemit, Rekazhnar, Amaruq and the others than many of the sailors of the VRZ.

May Jlokhemit protect us, and Rekazhnar guide our spears, she says, removing her water satchels and placing them down alongside the small central sheet fountain. With a bow she pays respects and takes a moment to sit fully, seating herself before the flowing waters and clearing her mind completely… It would seem for a moment that the great tundras of Nalydya have overtaken the floor and the cold and the snow and the ice have taken up residence. His icy splendour blows through, and a flurry of snow cascades down, covering the floor in thin film of snow…

Prepare for rift transit, suddenly the ships PA system blares, we will be transitioning into rift and arriving within vicinity of the target area shortly.

Back to reality.

[The Fedral Union]

(Almost done with a post for this, just need to edit a few things I'll put it up in the morning)

[Imperial Nalydya]

Kazhel nam Zhülnym
VRZ Broken Tide, Flagship of Zhülnym’s Division

The familiar rift wakes of VRZ warships betray the arrival of the vanguard of nam Zhülnym’s division, the primary planetary assault component of nam-Kyzhaq’s Nalydian 3rd Fleet, the Wrath of New Skardu. The rift cruisers – numbering no more than ten dozen – move in concert relative to the Chorkenzhel plying the fabrics of real space – those runners whose sole purpose is to scout and screen and act as the eyes and ears of any given fleet. nam-Kyzhaq so loves the runners and has given them prominent positions at the forefront of his fleet operations and composition.

The VRZ Broken Tide, a new Grazhni Chornalshi type rift cruiser, sails at the head of the formation. Its bow (sharp and knifelike and variegated with the cold-imbued hues of the land of the midnight tundra and of the very gods themselves) rolls gently with the pressuring of the rift. Her massive intakes gladly accept the realm, shunting the sickly particulates into holding cells and from there into refineries where they are converted into a form usable by the vessel. Most of this power is then redirected into the shields, working feverishly to keep the rift out, while the rest is divided between the rest of the ship’s systems.

Worst damn ground I’ve ever seen. Zhülnym, without even a slight hint of sarcasm.

Those orbitals are even worse, Admiral, a bridge hand notes, reviewing the incoming information from the runners. The Chorkenzhel have proven to be of great use… But this should come as no surprise.

Zhülnym raises an eyebrow and scratches his beard. We’re going to need to clear those orbitals first thing.

Do you want to strike before the battleships are here? His second in command – a fiery High Hunter with an iron disposition. We can likely crush them and deliver the system in full to nam-Kyzhaq when he arrives.

There’s no telling how long nam-Kyzhaq will be, another officer agrees.

Let me take my cruisers and wipe the field, nam-Zhülnym. Give me the ten best crews and I will lead them to victory.

Zhülnym considers the proposition. He needn’t worry about leaving the assault transports vulnerable in the rift – not many powers even possess the capability to strike vessels in the rift, much less effectively fight in it. Only the trio of Alterra, Givious and Kesrith (as well as Nuxipal before them) pose true threats to the VRZ in that realm. It is a delicate balance, and Zhülnym knows how lucky Nalydya is to be more or less friends with all those powers - even though they themselves do not necessarily find each other agreeable.

High Hunter Chelbük you can have your cruisers. Crush them.

Chelbük grins warmly and bows to the man. He turns to his aid and says but one word: Attack! before the man bows and relays the commands. Chelbük watches the displays as a section of cruisers detaches from the formation – perhaps a dozen or so vessels in total – and begins to fade into coherent reality, leaving the putrid fabrics of the rift for space-time more pleasant.

And they emerge into real space with much speed and energy, bearing down upon the lava world with all the power of the realm stored in their cells and a distinctly Nalydian confidence that seems to make their vessels glow. But the glow is merely the rift, rolling off of their hulls and fading into space-time. They are red-hot from the realm (shields only can do so much against its attempts at extermination) and thus are more than glad to accept the calming fabrics of a less turbulent verse.

The vessels are already familiar with what they must do. Before them nearly half a million hulks begin to fade into view on their myriad displays – a motley collection of what appear to be star destroyers, super star destroyers, interdictor ships and more. A hideous cloud (fighters, perhaps?) bellows forth from the group, dwarfing even the smoke of the funnels of the ships of the High Hunter’s navy. An odd occurrence, perhaps, because it should not be known that nam-Kyzhaq and his fleet would be arriving. A peculiarity, but nothing too concerning. Most of the ships (still) are not deployed for combat but rather are docked – gravitically anchored away from the world and at rest. Regardless, behind them (closer to the world) loom the massive signatures of what can only be vast and powerful battlestations…

Twenty light seconds distant from the hostile fabricworks the Pords turn rapidly, bringing all of their larger guns to bear. The artillery crews, men dressed in blue tunics and trousers both trimmed in red with crimson collars and sleeve-cuffs, pick out their targets. Each gun (forty-eight per ship but half that per broadside) trains at a singular star destroyer and the men servicing them wait for the order to fire. As the contingent drifts into the 19 light second range, the Arrays of the vessels complete linking and a massive shield takes shape around them, encasing the formation in a large charcoal sphere.

Fire.

For a brief moment there is silence aboard the vessels. Then, the solace is broken by the horrendous swooshing that accompanies the firing of PSKR pieces. The gargantuan batteries, unleashing rounds in clips of four, hurl their packages at near light speed – just a tick under to avoid the trappings of FTLi fields and similar technologies.

Swoosh! Swoosh! Swoosh! Swoosh! Halt. Swoosh! Swoosh! Swoosh! Swoosh! Halt.

They’ve begun! Chelbük excitedly says, turning to the Terran observer and back to the displays. The first rounds are on target; a star destroyer is hit once, twice, three times and then four along its length… The one hundred meter long shells, moving much too fast to be halted by the defensive turbolasers of the defending fleets, quadrisect the vessels they hit, turning massive portions into slag and sending the dying remains careening through the void. This scene plays out again and again as the Pords target more and more vessels – while they themselves remain within the nineteen to twenty light second range (well out of range of the enemy) and simply pummel the hostiles one by one with near impunity. Nearly takes the honour out of victory, Chelbük says.

Nearly… Zhülnym tells him, but there are an awful lot of ships there.

Chelbük eyes the displays. The dozen vessels or so are doing considerable work, but the enemy would appear to finally be reacting. One of the star destroyers attempts to pull away from a gravitic quay but is focus fired; the behemoth rounds from the cruisers shred the destroyer and leave very little left. Another is successful, and still another and another, and within a few minutes there is a sizable contingent of warships making steam for the position of Chelbük's warships. They move to get their weapons within attack range, rolling through the fabrics with all deliberate speed, making great time as they zero-in on the fleet-spanning shields of the rift cruisers. More vessels explode and blast their innards across the cosmos, but the sheer number of contacts is daunting. Within minutes it becomes apparent the cruisers will be overwhelmed.

You might want to pull your ships back, Zhülnym says with a raised eyebrow in a half ordering yet half suggestive tone. He too is eyeing the displays and can see the waves of hostile warships, now with ranks hundreds of warships deep, inexorably sailing to arrive within range. He scratches his head bemusedly as he considers the situation; Chelbük's ships are more than capable of remaining out of range of the star destroyers. He shifts slightly; a super star destroyer is hit and cracks in half.

For his part Chelbük grins. He makes no attempt at replying to Zhülnym. Clear them for individual battle, he tells his aid who acknowledges the order and sends it along.

In the void the massive fleet-spanning shields of the rift cruisers give way to reveal the large forms of the dozen or so warships. Massive plumes of billowing sickly green rift smoke pour in great sheets from the funnels as power is shunted into the various propulsion systems and they begin to speed towards the enemy.

Wasn't this maneuver called the Cholkük? he says in jest.

Zhülnym rolls his eyes. I don't think that's what that is called. I don't think that's what that is at all, the admiral tells him without even the slightest hint of a grin.

Chelbük shrugs. Close enough, the High Hunter concedes.

The exchange is broken by a deluge of new contacts that blanket the displays: the range has closed and the defending fleets erupt with the power of a million suns. Turbolasers and MAC cannons pound away in great number, saturating the fabric-space with a hideous amount of fire. Literally millions of projectiles and equivalent number of turbolaser bolts dart across the seven, nearing the cruisers and seeming to close with frightening accuracy.

Natyl and Mylchar Systems are ready and operational, Admiral, the sensors officer chimes in. His hands are busy at work, calibrating systems and relaying information and data from vessel-section to vessel-section. He inputs some more information, and then: By your command.

Your battlespace, Chelbük. Admiral Zhülnym.

nam-Knachen, he replies, counter the barrage!

Tasi, the order is echoed, counter the barrage!

Tasinehdao counter the barrage! again the order echoes.

And as quickly as the displays became inundated with fire, they are cleansed: for but a nanosecond the telltale signatures of the active section of the Natyl and Mylchar systems alight the displays before the entirely of the incoming barrage, in addition to the hoards of fighters, is snuffed out; the rift cruisers, now graced with free fabric, take the opportunity to flash-accelerate into the hostile vessel-grouping. In a display of pure speed and superluminal reaction, the vessels pinball around, blinking about the battlespace as they eliminate the hostiles one by one. The charcoal tint of Arrays crisscross the void while the purple hues of RPDCs bespeckle the fabric, and within minutes the entire fleet has been eliminated. Tens of thousands of hulks float through the void empty, lifeless, and devoid of any sign of resistance.

We have cleared the battlespace of warships, nam-Zhülnym. Chelbük restrains his excitement. It isn’t all too common his ships are able to let loose in such a manner. Usually the proliferation of FTLi fields or restrictive rules of engagement prevent him from allowing his vessels to do what they are fully capable of. Here though, no such restrictions are in place and no such technology is being utilized. He grins widely at the thought as he scans the displays and ponders to himself about just which of his crews likely scored the greatest amount of vessel kills and how they will soon be celebrating…

Apparently so. Helmsman? Zhülnym.

Tasi?

Take us out of rift. Bring all of us out of rift except for these cruisers. Zhülnym clarifies which ones via the HUD; included is his flagship, the VRZ Broken Tide. Within moments the orders are disseminated through the ranks and the forms of dozens of warships emerging from the rift take shape in the area around Chelbük’s cruisers – all of whom have slowed to a more reasonable clip. It first begins as a minor tear in reality – a respite from the coherence of space and time. From here it grows in size and ferocity until it becomes apparent an opening to the rift has been crafted. The Pordish ships surge forth from their multitudinous array of portals and come to a steady speed, having set a course that will bring them directly over the planet…

Blocking direct access to the planet, however, are the battlestations - which by now are fully aware of the Nalydian contingent. Zhülnym needn’t worry though. The initial phase of the operation has gone splendidly, although he has his reservations about the quality of the enemy battlestations after having seen the abysmal performance of the main section of their fleet. He knows he should probably dispatch some smaller vessels to sift through the wreckage for survivors, but the carnage and destruction is too complete. That will have to wait for the full arrival of nam-Kyzhaq’s fleet. For now, he turns his attention to fighting his way through to the orbitals and from there down onto the planet’s surface.

Barely ten minutes have passed since the beginning of the operation.

[The Fedral Union]

Conference

Collins had her orders; it had taken a split second or so before the sophonts and researchers looking through the data-links had discovered in the long run that the Terran's weren't being called to help enslave a planet; but as peacekeepers. National pride aside Mr Shore replied in short order brushing off the cold sounding tones of their allies as if it was a mere contextual misunderstanding. As Collins sat mute observing the subtlety at which the secretary of state engaged the others.

-“I know this entire affair may seem tedious to you, but it is the way things in our culture are done; our allies requested a peace keeping force, the president has instructed me to deliver to you the Alliance assurance, that you will receive military support.

You may learn many interesting facts about our culture as we have yours, now that this affair is settled I hope that we may conduct less macabre and mutually beneficial affairs in the future.”

Shore's hologram slowly dissipated; Collins nodded to the disappearing photoform'; the Terran's had a mixed history with so called force users, Terra and her people where almost whipped out or enslaved on mourners occasions by a Sith empire, and the forces of chaos that in the last war had cost the Alliance much in the way of resources; and blood. The loss of a home world, and being surrounded by warp users as well as incessant threats from malevolent entities, drove Terra and its people not to destruction nor a dark age, but in to an age of innovation's driven by the need to just survive, however technology alone wasn't the only thing pushed forth by this environment of strife, it crystallized in a steadfast manner its cultural values and “morals”.

“-Well then ladies and gentlemen, I suppose I should take my leave, I must join in the escort of our fleet.-

Collins was still conflicted about the situation, but she couldn't question what seemed to be direct orders from the top. They had come here on a mission of peace, only to be drawn in to a mission of war; something that would be on her shoulders for quite some time. These people however seemed to be in a state of eternal strife, how she should explain or justify what they were going to be doing to her crew was paltry to the job of the politicians back home, soldiers and officers wouldn't question things as much as the general civilian populace.


Seventy Two hours later.. Gate point Alpha,

A circular formation of spherical beacons seemingly independent from one another began to hum to life; crackling with some strange ambiance of white hot energy, in an instant arcs of lighting like bolts subtended the entire radius of the gate point, as the energy reached two of the probes aligned toward the center of this this circle; a final discharge of energy amplified by the other probes met in the center of the ring; in a mere instant the center was illuminated in a bright flash of energy; as tare in the domains between hyperspace, universe primary and universe theta as it was dubbed formed. Through this portal roughly four hundred ships slipped in to to this other verse, as the last ship of the combined fleets came through that realm of infinity the wormhole withered out of existence, the vast amounts of energy that hummed through each of the probes was now redirected to keeping the deployed hypergate on hot stand by.

Code: Select all

 This is Admiral Clement representing the Terran Seventh fleet; I can say I never expected a situation like this… Nonetheless we're here to assist at our allies request...

- TAS Challenger, CDN-108-

Vice admiral Antony Clement; stood with his eyes gazing over the holographic globe of local space, silhouettes of ships, planets and any other objects where clearly displayed as if they were almost within reach of his hand. As soon as the Terrran Armada had reached the system constant scans swept the space around them, reaching from and through the metaverse, down to the layers in between this universe. The additional intricate complexities of this universe; or of any other added many more under layers of data the Challenger's sophont had to sift through.

“Transport groups two and six will head in to the planet’s atmosphere; but before they can land any troop’s we’re going to have to secure that major urban area."-

The briefing went on for a few moments, the general gist of the whole thing was that the very public entrance of the large transports would mask the more subtle entrance of special operations teams Clement couldn’t find a better plan and whatever holes him and his fellow officers could find where always outweighed by the initial benefits, the long term objectives would after all have to be fluid with the situation.

----


The Surface some time later...


-“Alpha team, we’re en-route to your position, I repeat we’re en-route to your location.”-
A message crackled through Sargent Carson’s HUD, the labyrinth of the city, had not been the epitome of “city planning”, and what a labyrinth it was, even sensors couldn’t penetrate all the sprawling city center in the midst of this mostly “quaint” and sleepy world. Laser fire whizzed passed him and his team; this was one of the back routes in to the star port, they were amongst three teams sent in to secure the area, five men per squad.

Carson waved a squad mate over, he was crouched behind a flipped over hover car holding his displacer rifle up over its charred smoking hulk, the air crackled to life as he tapped the trigger unleashing with each tap three bolts of white hot particulate like energy that seemed to deform the air as it ripped through it; his squad mate stormed across a small gap between the alley way. The volume of suppressive fire put out by him and his comrades allowing their comrade to cross. It seemed to take an eternity in the mind of the solider making the trip, time seemed to slow to what seemed to be a standstill before the sleekly armored sophont made contact with the ground and one of the walls to the right of Carson.

-“We’ve got them pinned, I think we have their attention, if we’re going to get this done, we better hurry.”-


The sophont glanced at Carson both of them taking their “go” at laying down another volley of pulse fire.

-“Affirmative Alpha team… Hang in there.”-

A voice came through again, Carson without a flinch through sheer muscle memory switched his rifles drone grenade launcher to fire mode; the second his squad mate let up its suppression fire he called out a thumb pushing a button just above the launcher.


-“Lettin loose a Drone.”-

With a buzz an egg shaped spheroid projectile, flew from the tube; gravaitic fields activating around it as it lunged forth in to the alley way guided by its own common sense and a short range feed from his sensor HUD. In the blink of an eye it flew in to a blown out window of one of the run down buildings the cluttered the alley way. Carson could get a glimpse of the dirty; ash sullen faces of the insurgent’s. He had little time to think about it, to think if all about what was going on, the insurgence seemingly tried to scatter. He didn’t hear much other than a loud energetic explosion, a flash followed by a cloud of plasma an instant after put an end to the noise of blaster fire from one side of his team’s position. Carson quickly glanced over to a fresh contact on his sensors; his squad changed targets and interlocked their fire, three faced forward a squad mate on the other side of the alley covering the building the grenade hit with various strafing strikes.

In the distance an explosion could be heard, it rumbled through the maze of streets in the sprawling metropolis, smoke began to billow from an area just above the horizon in the direction of the star port. Above them the sky was swarming with drone craft. Anyone who wasn’t stuffed within the entangled mass of enclosed alleys and buildings; or distracted with the savage reality of war could clearly see some of the wings of craft that crisscrossed the skies above.

“-Unit four reporting in; -crackling explosion, and blaster fire/ Displacer fire.- We’re almost through the doors to the control center, we should have the airwaves playing some tunes shortly. –Another muffled high energy crackle. Came through the coms. Unit one what’s your status?”-

Carson could hear one of his squad made reply, her voice seemed calm no strain or stress from the current firefight seemed to be hinted at despite the noises of energy fire filling the place.

-“We’re tied up two kilos from the star port, we’re holding the opfor down while bravo and Charlie teams move in for the objective.-“

Team two’s command replied, his atmosphere much calmer now Carson cycled with his squad mates in taking turns to strafe the alley way with fire, pits and melted metal/slag from the disruptive weapons they were using scarred in ever greater density the already dowry and rundown labyrinth.

And to think, this was just the start of it all, Carson and his team where in for quite a time; none of them looked forward to this on a more consistent basis. What lay ahead; was not to be envied.

[The Triskelion Federation]

[Place Holder]

[Imperial Nalydya]

Bolshoi of the Seven
Kyzhaq, Tylaq, Zhülnym and Chelbük:

Zhülnym watches Chelbük’s eyes as they follow the markers of his dozen or so rift cruisers through their movements atop the fabric. They have slowed greatly, and have signaled the success of their mission. The lead cruiser’s commander takes the opportunity to ask for clearance to engage the hostile battlestations; without hesitation Chelbük nods.

But the man cannot see the nod.

Tasi, engage the battlestations, he orders moments later. His aid relays the message before returning his attention to the displays.

The lead cruiser accelerates and shifts a great amount of energy into her shields. It arrogantly plods forth, headlong into the fray, and soon comes under enemy fire. The two Pordish commanders – Chelbük and Zhülnym – take note of the action, observing its ship-captain as he makes no visible attempts at engaging point defense or other active measures, but instead simply opts for absorbs the entirety of the incoming fire from the turbolaser and MAC batteries with his shields and Arrays. It might even perhaps be the better option in the long run, considering the usefulness of the energy given to the Nalydian systems by the non-slug ordinance.

A trio of MAC rounds slam into the cruiser; the shields visibly splash from the impact and portions float off into space before they slosh back into the chasm created, effectively filling the hole and negating the damage. These shields, the outer shields, the Array shields, seem unimpressed by the volley. And Chelbük can indeed deduce such things just from merely watching the displays – although details specific enough that they are of little use to a commander such as him oft go unrelayed. He simply grins as he watches the other cruisers plowing on behind the lead ship, now all beginning to circle the battlestations one by one. They ring them in nearly orbital fashion and open their missile banks; systems silent thus far, the pods are emptied missile by missile until a large blanket cloud is formed.

They circle the Pordish contingent and arrange themselves in waves. Within minutes they begin their assault, assailing the battlesations in intervals of ten seconds – so great in number that, even with such short intervals between the waves, they cannot all be eliminated. But the battlestations, large and impressive, are not so easily defeated. They dwarf the warships currently present, but it is only after observing the results of this barrage does Chelbük consider the implications of their monstrosity.

Do you concede, Chelbük? Zhülnym – finally letting humour into the battle.

No, Chelbük retorts, but not without realizing what has happened. He knows Zhülnym isn’t taking the battle seriously. Hell, he probably even knew we were going to destroy all those other vessels without any issue at all, he concedes to himself. Bring up the cruiser commanders.

Tasi! his adjutant.

The holographic forms of the ship-captains of the rift cruisers begin to take shape on the bridge, and a quick count verifies all are present.

Saturate the stations with combined Array fire, he orders. Finish this fight and prepare to cover our landings.

The Pords salute and cut the comms link. Again a few minutes pass; again the Pords link the Arrays on their cruisers. The vast energies of the Array course through space between the warships and hum with all the putridity of the realm. They make no attempts at masking the vast amounts of energy they are burdened with; each vessel’s signature glows with the power of ten million quasars and the very strength of the gods. They are but the conduit for the rift, accepting its power and redirecting it, sending it crashing to where they need it and using it for their purposes.

A single beam is formed from the power of the rift, appearing on the furthest edges of the combined Arrays. It too is charcoal in tint and fraught with hideous power. Within its shaft is all the hatred of the realm and a sea of high energy particulates that serve to give the rift its power. And accompanying them are new particulates – rift nanites, grown from the sickly fabrics themselves and specially tailor so they absorb the energies and contain them. The beam rips through coherent reality on its way to its target, boiling space-time as it transcends it. It slams into the first battlestation in a horrendous clash, detonating it in a massive explosion so powerful even space-time rocks from the explosion. The shockwaves reverberate out through the myriad levels of reality and are even detected in the rift.

This occurs again – another and another and another, each for a singular battlestation until they are no more. Chelbük grins at the overkill but realizes he likely won’t have such opportunity again.

I suppose we should proceed, he tells Zhülnym.

Tasi. Proceed, nam-Kyzhaq replies, appearing in holographic form before them. The two Pords snap to attention and salute, prompting nam-Kyzhaq to wave them off. They relax and wait for him to continue. nam-Zhülnym, call back all your rift ships into the realm. Your transports and escorting warships will accompany the main section of my fleet in real space. Good job on clearing the orbitals.

nam-Knachen. Chelbük?

Chelbük nods. With a simple wave over his displays he orders his ships back. They acquiesce in proper fashion, flowing back into the rift and leaving nothing remaining of their brief tenure on the seven. Moments later, the Nalydian fleet emerges in full force from rift space, spilling out into the orbitals of the planet with all deliberate speed; the vast battlewagons, dwarfing asteroids and rivaling all but the largest of constructs, take shape at the centre of the Nalydian formation while the assault cruisers, larger than the rift cruisers but still dwarfed by the battlewagons, find their proper locations at positions ringing the heavier warships. In totality, the formations resemble massive vessel-spheres, each with a singular supercapital ship at their centre.

The Nalydian positioning has not gone unnoticed by those planetside. Nearly as soon as the Pords arrive, the ground erupts with anti-orbital fire. A 25km cruiser, the VRZ Windy City, is struck repeatedly by groundfire. A blaze erupts on a number of decks and the fire can be seen from the other ships in the formation. The Pords begin to pull back out of range of the ground weapons, but the damage has already been done. VRZ Windy City calls on a few tugs and they aid her in bringing the blaze under control and her captain sends a status report up the chain of command. In all probability, she has lost hundreds of crew.

While all this is happening, a few more holograms appear on Zhülnym’s bridge; they are of many of the ground commanders and the other vessel-division Admirals. At nam-Kyzhaq’s behest they have been gathered.

Alright – we are all present. I will review our plan of action for this assault one last time before we initiate our attack. Hünat, your Paramarines will be landing first at these landing zones – nam-Kyzhaq points to the landing locations – and will be clearing them for subsequent landings by Tylaq’s Yamsai’an Guard.

Tasi, nam-Kyzhaq. My Mantleshark formations are slated to be included within my initial wave. I do not think we will be encountering too much resistance, although those anti-orbital emplacements will need to be silenced.

That can be arranged. A few wings of cruisers will accompany your ships through the air column and down to the landing zone. That should be sufficient. Zhalna?

Tasi?

Your cruiser sphere will be detached to assist Hünat in this. You must ensure those transports make it safely to the ground. If you don’t… Well, we’ll all be in for a real bad time.

Tasinehdao, ihn chümyenok, she replies.

The initial phase of the invasion will see the securing of this complex. This will need to be secured before we move out anywhere else on this rock. My intelligence suggests it will be heavily contested.

This should not pose a problem, Hünat assures. I will send you my timetable for the capture of the facility, nam-Kyzhaq. Assuming everything goes according to plan we should have the entire facility under our control by the end of tomorrow. I cannot be sure though, which is why I will be sending my best formations in to take it.

I trust your judgement on this, Hünat.

This is merely the first of the major facilitates we will need to secure planetside. Here – he points to the map – along the shores of this lava ocean is the primary objective for our assault. These industrial works stretch for hundreds of kilometers and will be hell to pay securing.

All eyes turn towards the industrial works Hünat is referring to. They are indeed massive and it is apparent their purpose is singular in nature: fabriccraft construction. All other complexes on the planet are arrayed around it like great spokes on some vast terrestrial wheel; even Hünat’s chosen landing zone is somewhat distant from the objective. But that only makes sense. No Paramarine commander lands his men directly into the heaviest of locales of enemy resistance.

nam-Kyzhaq, will we be receiving any more divisions?

nam-Kyzhaq frowns. He had contacted ZJR command in an attempt to secure more ground forces to aid in the attack. Peterson had not been willing to help. Something about the VRZ having more than enough men to pull off a planetary assault against savages or some such drivel. The admiral was not amused.

No, I don’t think we will have many, if any, reinforcements.

We’ll make do, Hünat replies, We are ready to proceed then, Admiral. There are a few things I would like to review with my division and corps commanders, but if you are ready, we are as well.

nam-Kyzhaq can be seen waving and ordering individuals elsewhere on his bridge though his hologram. Moments later he turns back to the individuals gathered: Proceed, he tells them without any embellishment. One by one the holograms vanish from Zhülnym’s bridge until only High Hunter Tylaq, Admiral nam-Kyzhaq himself and the Paramarine commander Hünat remain.

nam-Kyzhaq, I do have my reservations about Hünat’s ability to take that ground, High Hunter Tylaq chimes.

Hünat has his orders – he will take that ground

Tylaq raises an eyebrow. Nothing thus far has suggested that will be the case. She already is overseeing the deployment of the Mantlesharks, and now it would seem she, and the rest of the contingent in the first wave, are on a one-way mission.

Have you see the terrain? I’ve been pushing for a different landing zone since we were assigned this planet.

In the worst case scenario we can soften the landing zone with our warships, nam-Kyzhaq concludes.

Hünat’s hologram manages a nod.

These VRZ-types are always so sure of themselves. She cuts the link and her hologram fades. Hünat was saying something, but then again, he had said he had more to say to his commanders…

We are ready to leave, High Hunter, Rytek interjects, interrupting, well, nothing.

She nods and picks up her rifle and slings it over her shoulder with a single fluid motion. The two leave the conference room, and as they do, the engine thrum returns to the Blanketglacier. They can feel the shuddering of the assault transport as it begins to brute-force its way down through the air column, having obviously begun the planetary assault. The noise is hideous as they make their way to the hangar bay, and the loud telltale booms! of ships not too far off speak of the accuracy and power of the groundside defensive batteries. A few more explosions are heard; she looks out of the hangar bay and eyes a triple-barreled gun mount on the underside of a nearby ship blasting away – the purple hued bolts of the weapon streak through the sky and leave trails as they whiz down.

But, they have arrived. Tylaq steps into a landing craft and waves the pilot forward. The Pord nods, and after some radio chatter with flight control, begins to accelerate the warplane. He taxis slowly though the hangar for nearly two minutes. Other landing craft follow him as he makes his way to the take-off strip. Within a few minutes, he is where he needs to be: a quick verification from flight control is all he needs. The massive engines of the landing craft scream as the pilot pushes the throttle to the wall and it climbs out and away from the transport. It soars into the sky – and into the chaotic mess of battle – to join the other landing craft that are forming up similarly.

They circle as the first wave descends. Hundreds, if not thousands, of landing craft stream towards the planetary surface: here, one is hit and explodes spectacularly. There, the shields of a different warplane barely survive a direct hit. The engines of another take fire and start to burn profusely. Black smoke pours out in great sheets as the fire spreads, and the pilot, quick on her feet, puts the bird into a nose dive to snuff the blaze. She pulls out at what would be tree-top level, if there were trees on this hellish lavascape of a world.

Those are the Mantlesharks being deployed over there – brings us down near them, Tylaq strains.

There is a momentary silence, almost as if the pilot was not sure if anything had actually been said.

We have Mantlesharks landing over there, she repeats, this time pointing visibly to the ground. Of course, now standing next to the man does wonders for comprehension.

Tasi, the pilot replies.

The craft banks sharply and begins to descend. An explosion rocks it, and but for a moment it would seem the plane is intent on falling out of the sky. Yet it shakes off this assault and continues down, finally coming to a relatively pleasant landing on a small patch of brown and black rocks. Tylaq is first to exit – she crouches low beside the plane and brings up her tactical display to observe the progress of the Mantleshark landings.

They’re going pretty well, Rytek notes.

We need to take out those damn batteries. Kyzhaq won’t risk shooting down here with his ships. We’re going to need to land here soon, Tylaq tells him.

Gunfire whizzes over their heads; a few bolts of dark matter burrow into the landing craft behind them. Tylaq, already crouched low, doesn’t react. Instead, she thanks the pilot of the landing craft and begins to move away from it.

You’re probably right, Rytek agrees, although I don’t think we should stay down here for long without the Guard.

Tylaq nods. Somewhere off to their side a squad of Paramarine Raiders assaults an anti-orbital emplacement. Voznayna! a Pord shouts, followed rapidly by the ear-splitting thump! thump! thump! of rifle fire. A muffled explosion drowns out more screaming – Pordish? Enemy? – and smoke begins to billow forth from the battery. The massive barrel, reaching skyward, heels over and comes crashing down into the lava below, splashing the scalding rock onto the solid shore, and then sinks down into the morass.

A few moments later, a Pord emerges from the battery. Half of his face is gone and his uniform is visibly burned; his barrier suit (worn underneath) is torn and shredded and there are massive burn-marks where healthy skin should be, while his left arm is entirely gone. He too takes a few steps before plummeting into the lava below, the remains of his uniform and person burning slowly as his corpse floats down the lava river…

Two more Pords follow him out, their faces blackened with soot and dust and charcoal. They also appear ragged and have burns and portions of missing uniforms. And they are then accompanied by another Pord who appears to be leading a prisoner – a soldier clad in heavy armour, and then by another Raider wielding a heavy kinetic canister autorifle.

What’s going on here? Tylaq questions. She is still somewhat distant, but has begun to move closer to the Raider detachment.

The Paramarines turn to her with puzzled looks on their faces, but almost instantly they see the black trim of the Yamsai’an Guard and soon recognition washes over them.

High Hunter Tylaq Balnook: an honour, one says with a bow. We are in the process of eliminating these anti-orbital emplacements.

Mantlesharks should be supporting your assault. Who gave you orders to begin before them?

We got word from our pilots those emplacements are too heavily armoured and shielded to be easily destroyed from the outside, the same Pord, a captain, speaks up again.

Hünat… Damn him. Pull back until we can sort this out.

The Pord again bows as Tylaq cues her communications link. At first there is static, but then through the garble comes a muffled voice: Tasi, nam-Tylaq?

Begin landing operations. The Raiders won’t be able to secure all of the landing areas, she tells another Pordish officer – a ZJR pilot who is in command of her landing craft detachment.

Within minutes another wave of landing craft begins descending through the air column. As before they receive a hideous wall of anti-orbital fire and dozens of landing craft are blown out of the sky. Here and there craft streak downwards: one crashes into a lava pool and skids through the molten rock before coming to a stop; another plows nose first into the ground while a third manages to successfully deliver its cargo and men before succumbing to a direct hit from a lava thrower. It explodes in a massive fireball, throwing the Pords around it to the ground.

Tylaq watches the landings. Gradually, the Pords of the Yamsai’an Guard make their transition from the ships waiting above to positions on the ground. They land in areas that have been flattened and secured by the Paramarines, but these areas are not great in number. More will need to be secured before the full might of the Paramarine Korps can be brought to bear against the rebels of this lava planet.

Captain, how many of these emplacements have you eliminated?

Three or four with my men here. Probably a dozen or so in total including my men elsewhere.

Rytek, do you have the map?

Tasi, Rytek replies, fetching the information.

Tylaq places the map on the ground and a hologram of the battlefield comes into view. It denotes the location of all known enemy emplacements and the relative locations of Nalydian forces, with special emphasis placed on their current location.

Are these the emplacements you eliminated?

The captain nods. We have been moving along this ridge… Resistance has been picking up along it.

Thank you, Captain, she replies.

He bows again and Tylaq uses the opportunity to excuse herself.

They’re probably heavily entrenched on the hill at the end of this ridge, Rytek notes.

Worst damn ground I’ve seen in a long time. I suppose it isn’t nam-Kyzhaq’s fault though.

Rytek shrugs. nam-Kyzhaq is likely sitting comfortably on his bridge, watching the carnage from the safety of his flagship. Nothing that is here could even come close to posing even a minor threat to his damn battlewagons. Of course he doesn’t mind recommending the Paramarines, and Tylaq’s Yamsai’an Guard, for a planetary assault on some Jlokhemitforsaken broken shell of a world.

Rytek, contact the rest of my staff and tell them to set up headquarters on my current location.

Tasi, Rytek replies.

Off in the distance the first of the Yamsai’an Guard prepare to begin the final assault on the heights protecting the center of the rebel defenses in the area. The Paramarines, moving up behind them, have already been bloodied attempting to take them once before. Tylaq eyes the enemy positions through her binoculars and can see the colours of the Great House of Zhyso moving forward through the fog of war; the standard falls once, rises, goes down again, rises yet again… Then it falls.

High Hunter Tylaq?

Tylaq turns to see DritteJloknam Chülyat Kolnav and her entourage greeting her. With them are the first of Tylaq’s headquarters battalion. The treads of their vehicles grind the volcanic soil as they come to a stop and allow for the Rezhnamen and other infantry to disembark.

High Hunter Tylaq, we are deployed and ready to move on your command.

Can you see those heights, Chülyat? Tylaq points. The heights are just visible in the distance. We need those secured. If we don’t… Well…

Tasi, I can have my scouts check the area and we’ll begin soon enough, She says, then opens a communications link between herself and a NokeshteJloknam under her command in charge of artillery. There is a loud explosion, and Tylaq can just barely make out the words zhyr: “ridge,” and chünezhen: “guns” as Chülyat discusses deployments with her artillery officer.

Driver, bring us over to the base of that hill, Tylaq calls.

The driver pokes his head out of the IFV to see Tylaq and Rytek climbing inside. He doesn’t question the order but rather displays affirmation by following them. The High Hunter ducks beneath the low ceiling and slides into a bucket seat.

Stay away from that ridge. We still got fire pouring down from it, she continues through the din. The driver merely nods.

They drive in silence. The chunka! chunka! chunka! report of Pordish squad support weapons and loud hissing of lava and dark energy weapons are much too loud to carry on any meaningful conversation through. Every now and then a louder explosion can be made out, but usually these are far more distant than the near rhythmic pattern of super-kinetic weaponry that the VRZ and ZJR are so famous for. Within ten minutes, they are arrived.

This is far enough, she calls up to the driver with two bangs on the metal panel beside him.

The two Pords climb out and crunch back down onto the soil. A quick glance around reveals the Pords in the area are a mixture of Yamsai’an Guard and Paramarines. A few riding Yünak RPCs whiz by – the scouts – indicating that a major assault is in the works.

Suddenly, the Pords rise up from their positions. With one or two Paramarine tanks among, they begin to advance up the hill. Somewhere near the front wave the flags of both Nürzh’s brigade, a child-unit of Tylaq’s formation, and Chülyat’s brigade.

Kenzhelenskaya!
Namen jlüb Jlokhemit’an…
Hymokna!
Rekazhenjlokzha,
Kenzhelshyk,
namen reknuna!
Kalmyzh nam-Jlokhemit’an
chübnazha,
myzhüv rüchan
jlokte’anshyk…

But she had ordered the attack.

Tylaq follows them, keeping low to the ground, and moves with deliberate steps. She checks her rifle again. Still in working order, or at least so it seems. Its systems will come in handy – especially with the thick smoke that rolls off the lava flows helping to obscure the battlefield.

Crack! Crack! Boom! Off to her side a Pord falls and a dark figure, dripping with molten rock, emerges from the ground. She turns to fire but he is already drenched in rounds, his heavy armour now his tomb.

We need to clear out those tunnels, she says – but far be it from her to be the only one in the area with the same idea. A Paramarine squad advances on it in a rolling fashion, suppressing, moving, suppressing, moving, before arriving in grenade range. The lead Pord lobs a grenade into the opening only to be met with a wall of flaming rock that consumes both the grenade and his body. He slumps over dead beneath the stream of molten rock while his comrades recoil from the intensity of the heat.

The Paramarines do not reform to assault the position again, but rather fall back. Moments later mortar fire rains down on the position, obliterating the opening and crushing all underneath in an avalanche of dirt.

This minor setback does not curb the inexorable march forward. Position after position are overrun as the Pords advance and begin to near the summit. Nearing it, they find the final defensive line – a shielded trench and bunker line that preempts a cluster of the largest anti-orbital weapons in the sector.

One of the Paramarine tanks tests the shield by firing upon it; as quickly as the tank’s position is reveal it is deluged in fire and erupts in a fireball. The turret comes clean off and lands off to the side with a thud! and its crew – those who actually survived – force themselves out of the burning wreckage. One is hideously burned beyond all recognition and simply falls from the vehicle into the dirt while the other stumbles around bleeding profusely from his ears for a few moments before collapsing to his knees. A Paramarine corpsman is quick to aid him, and he is soon removed from the battlefield.

For her part, Tylaq has neared the front of the Nalydian assault. She watches as the shields are brought down by what can only be Mantlesharks. Slinging her rifle around her shoulder she draws her sword and brandishes it:

Who will come with me?

The bearer of the colours for Nürzh’s brigade, a different Pord than the one who held them at the start of the assault, stands to join Tylaq and Rytek. Within moments, the line again begins to move forward in a mad rush to close the distance to the final defensive perimeter. The ground is broken and uneven and boulders are strewn about the hillside making advancing perilous. But nevertheless, above them, artillery and longer ranged autocannon fire serve to help keep the enemy heads down, though they can only do so much…

She jumps down into the trench and is greeted by the enemy. A stab to the throat ends him; the cool ENS coated blade slides easily through both man and armour. To her side another Pord hops down. He lands on an enemy blade and is summarily shot. He falls dead, and the enemy knight turns to see Tylaq. She pulls out her sidearm and fires twice at the heavily armoured man but his thick plating shrugs it off. He raises his gun, but before he can fire there is a loud thwump! and she can see the remains of his body, having been turned to gelatin inside his armour, slosh down into the lower cavities of the suit; he falls over, lifeless, to reveal a blue-and-black-clad member of the Yamsai’an Guard across from where he once stood, pulse rifle still smoking from the shot.

She nods and turns to move down the trench. Rytek, further along, swings the butt of his rifle into a rebel. He stumbles back, dazed, yet doesn’t go down. He had partially raised his shield to block, but before he can recover, Rytek is on him, driving his bayonet through the rebel’s faceplate. The man’s brains boil and pop as the blade forces it way into them, flash-freezing then annihilating the very matter that make up what it comes into contact with as it is driven home.

Similar scenes play out all throughout the trenches: somewhere a Pord brandishes a massive canister autorifle and begins clearing vast swathes of enemies; their bodies are unrecognizable after being shot… They are vapourized and rendered unto mist. Elsewhere, a trio of Yamsai’an Guard cover each other and methodically clear room after room, moving down the trench, lobbing grenades and killing those who emerge. Still further, Paramarines engage in hand-to-hand, weilding their massive rifles like warhammers and brute-forcing their way through the opposition.

Within minutes the trench is secure. Bodies of both Pords and rebels litter the area and the dull moaning of the wounded and dying begin to overtake the now more distant-growing din of battle. The enemy, having lost the outer trench, falls back to the deeper defenses, but those too are taken in rapid order – although not without grueling casualties. Through her communications link she overhears that Hünat as well had participated in the assault but he met his match in the form of an explosion. Lucky to even be alive, he now is aboard an assault transport being tended to. He babbles on about terrible ground through his communicator before he shuts it off at the request of his bedside doctor. In the moments prior, though, Tylaq also overhears that the initial objectives have been secured and the landing zones are cleared for the landing of the main contingent of Paramarine forces.

She rides back to her headquarters with Rytek in silence. The battlefield is littered with bodies and burnt out vehicles; the Rezhnamen are already going to work, removing the corpses and investigating the smoldering remains of Paramarine tanks and the various infantry vehicles. Through the view slits on the Vubzhay IFV she watches as Pordish engineers climb over the destroyed vehicles, snuffing fires and attaching towing lines to them. It is tedious work, and she considers herself lucky such things are not included within her duties.

Tylaq’s brigade commanders have already gathered inside of her headquarters tent by the time the Vubzhay IFV comes to a screeching halt beside it. She hops out of the vehicle and parts the flaps of the tent to see this, returning the salute of the guards as she enters.

High Hunter Tylaq, DritteJloknam Pytna Nürzh, brother of the famed DritteJloknam Atka Nürzh (author of the book Axis: Enemies & Allies that is named after the famed photograph that was taken at the end of the brief Beornician-CHS War in which he served) greets her. He bows and the others do too. Tylaq returns the bows as she comes up to the central map.

Nürzh, are you in a position where you can move out soon?

Nürzh nods. Tasi, we can move out soon. We’re in the process of deploying some of our heavier units, but this damn ground is so unstable. Mobile shielding and artillery should be ready within a few hours, he says, wiping some dirt from his face.

My brigade will need some time to reorganize after that assault, High Hunter, Chülyat Kolnov interjects. She bites her lip as it turns into a frown: We won’t be in a position to move anytime soon.

Tylaq frowns as well. She knew the assault was costly… But Jlokhemitdamn it, Hünat’s Hill, as the men are now calling it, truly had been a nightmare.

Understandable, Chülyat. Nürzh, your brigade will need to take over main combat from Chülyat’s. One of the artillery brigades will support you while the rest will deploy with Chülyat on the ridge and heights.

Nürzh nods. I’d like to suggest DritteJloknan Razhnev’s artillery for my support.

That can be arranged, Tylaq agrees, But for now, consolidate your positions until the Paramarine situation is sorted.

Tasinehdao! the brigade commanders reply in near unison. Chülyat is first to bow, then Nürzh, followed by the other three commanders, all of whom are present in holographic form only. Their visages disappear as they take their leave, vanishing as both the other two brigade commanders exit the tent. It had been a short meeting, but there wasn’t much to say. The assault had been bloody and Tylaq’s formations will need to reform and recuperate. And with the greater share of the Paramarines now landing planetside, they will be given that opportunity.

[The Alterran Empire]

The Iconian Imperial Embassy - Yamsai, Nalydya

Ambassador Kraven sat at the table, dressed in some of the finest furs from across the Pordic territories, sipping tea and contemplating some of the latest chatter coming from the newly united empire of Iconia. He sat in the cold, brisk air surrounded by the ice roses and other frost-flora that had been transplanted to this world from the Ambassador's home planet of Fesoan.

As the Ambassador enjoyed his morning quiet time, he came across a message in his secured email pertaining to an operation for peacekeeping on Talos. The Empire had long since determined that stability in the Talos region was vital to the Iconian pathway to prosperity as it included several vital supply lines and trade routes that allowed the Empire to function as normal. The email noted that the Emperor wished to involve a small Iconian peacekeeping presence in the operation.

Ambassador Kraven set down his tea and immediately called his contacts within the Pordish government, seeking to know how Iconia could support the peace keeping efforts and where troops could be deployed.

Without waiting for a response, the Ambassador ordered the Valdore Fleet in orbit to head toward Talos and to have the Regiment Elite Guard (REG) prepared to engage in peacekeeping or humanitarian operations.