Across the Stars (FT, Nation Rp, IC)

[Tagali Federation]

OOC

Somewhere out in the Depths of Space
Tagali Royal Fleet of House Shakan
4th Patrol Group


Among the vast emptiness of Space, a Tagali patrol fleet of 12 warships, mostly frigate and cruisers led by a single Tagali Battle Cruiser. They bore the banner of House Shakan, a Tagali Noble House and a Client House of the Royal Family, House Sajana. They were far out from the Empire, the closest safe harbor being those of House Yevzha's Vice-royalty of the Citadel, 6 system jumps away. This Patrol Group was one of many scouring beyond the boundaries of the Empire. The Tagali were on the hunt to find the last dwellings of their latest prey, the Humans. Many of their worlds had already fallen to the Tagali Empire, even their Homeworld, Earth, was under Tagali Domain under the stewardship of House Kanami. Still, Mankind proved to be elusive prey, long ago scorching star maps of their holdings in hope of delaying the Tagali Hordes.

On the bridge of the Battlecruiser stood it's Ship Master and Leader of the 4th Battlegroup. This Ship Master was unsual, for he was a Human Male, in his mid twenties. His curly brown hair stood out from the blue and white cowlicks of his Tagali crew. His face recently shaven while his comrades would never know what facial hair even feel like. He was an usual site on a Tagali Warship, much less as a Ship Master. To his crew though, he might as well have been a Tagali, for he was Vasili Khar-Shakan, the Adopted Son of Hamin Re-Shakan, the Head of House Shakan. As long as he was under his protection, no one would dare threaten him without reprisal from House Shakan or worse, from House Sajana itself.

Vasili looked over what few star maps left from the war. So far, they had found nothing, only fakes leading to barren worlds or once prospering colonies now abandoned or in ruins. Some had shown signs of the colony being evacuated during the closing months of the war. Others were marked with craters and high levels of radiation, suggesting that the locals had killed themselves to avoid Tagali subjugation. Either way, the trail was nothing but false leads and empty ruins.

Vasili turned to his Sensor Officer, a Young Tagali Female, a new recruit from one of the client houses. Vasili spoke to her in an accent more Jakalan Tagali than from any Human World.

"Anything?"

"Not yet, Ship Master. Closest thing to anything intelligent we've gotten are old barely intelligible radio signals from 10 systems out." Vasili sighed and looked out to the viewport.

"Keep looking, we can't return unless we find something."

[Alinora]

- ATLAS -

---

( Orion, Atlas' Headquarters located near the Galactic Core )

Orion | Unknown System | Core Region

While the Tagali had undoubtedly made great strides in science, and created structures of enormous magnitude and advancement, there was very little that could triumph over the sheer size and magnitude of “Orion”, the massive space station that Atlas had claimed as its headquarters, and held for centuries - unknown to the rest of the Galaxy. Originally founded by a small band of Human scientists during the early stages of their galactic expansion, the discover of volumes and volumes of data that had been stockpiled by the Ancients shocked amazed the Humans, eventually leading them to fake being lost in space and creating an isolated research post on the station that, for decades, would have very little contact with the outside world. Named “Orion” after a constellation seen from the Human Homeworld of Earth, the scientists on the station invested everything they had in understanding and protecting Ancient technology - forming the “Orion Society” around the time that civil war erupted between the various human factions. During the chaos, the Orion Society did make various expansions into other isolated systems to capture new resources that would drive their experiments, but overall, the organization remained isolated and secretive. That is, until the Tagali Empire invaded.

Taking advantage of Humanity’s war-torn state, the Tagali Empire stormed into human space - the various factions standing no chance against the organized, more-advanced Empire. World by world, system by system, Humanity fell to Tagali occupation. The Orion Society decided that the very fate of mankind was on the line, and decided to use their accumulated knowledge of the Ancients, and the technology they’d harnessed, to fight back. The Society organized a fleet, an army, and for a time, offered a real chance at organization to a scale that could successfully fight the Tagali. It wasn’t good enough. The “Coalition” as it was called made a valiant last stand at Earth, but was defeated. The Fall of Earth was a devastating blow for Humanity, who in the weeks following, retreated all across the front - aggressively hunted by the Tagali like animals.

Changed by the events of the war, and horrified by the sight of millions and millions of Human lives being so carelessly extinguished, the Orion Society would change… evolving into Atlas, a Human Supremacist, Paramilitary, Survivalist organization determined to not only protect Humanity, but to get revenge on the Tagali. Using any and all tactics at their disposal, from terror attacks to full-blown guerilla warfare, Atlas used it’s technological edge to deal deadly blows to the Tagali Empire and impeded their imperialistic ambitions at every corner. The conflict has existed in this form for many years - a constant power struggle, with Atlas usually being the root of the problems the Empire faces. Having infiltrated deep within their ranks, manipulating human factions to do their bidding, and constantly lashing out with brand new technological capabilities, the war with the Tagali rages with relentless ferocity - only calming for small periods of time before another battle reignites the flame. Here, at Orion, the heart of Humanity’s fight for freedom, there is much at play to secure a better future…

Over the centuries, as Atlas increased in it's power and influence, the station they named "Orion" grew into a "Shining City upon a Hill" - only that nobody but Atlas knew about it. It had since been organized into 4 "Wings", and the Inner Ring. The Four Wings took on the appearance of a city, and that was the purpose they served. Tall buildings rose up from the Wings, cars flew around everywhere, stores and shops were seen on almost every corner. Nearly 10 million people lived on Orion, a place of prosperity, where crime was virtually non-existent, and Atlas' provided enough food, fresh water, electricity, education, and free-time for all to live very happy lives. In a way, it was a Utopia that Atlas hoped to bring upon all of Humanity.

Within the Inner Core, however, things were much different. Thousands of Atlas Soldiers, which were made up largely of Synthetic Humans or "Synths", patrolled nearly every corner of the Inner Circle. Much of Atlas' Navy was based from here, it was where troops were trained and manufactured, and where nearly all scientific endeavors were carried out. It was also, within the Inner Tower that extended from the circle towards the center of it, that the mysterious leader of Atlas lived - a person known only as Sovereign, and who only a select few have ever met. Within the Tower, Atlas' second most powerful individual climbed the stairs which were placed on either side of a fountain, and approached the large window that looked out over the entirety of Orion. Supreme Admiral Robert Lawrence, who is in command of the entire Atlas Navy, as well as the Marines. The Supreme Admiral, dressed in his clean-pressed Atlas formal military uniform, crossed his arms behind his back as he gazed out at the station.

The voice of Sovereign, a calm and smooth voice, came through, seeming to come from all directions, with no actual origin.

"It's amazing, the things we've accomplished together... a mere glance out a window is a testament to the progress Atlas has made..."

"Indeed, sir." Admiral Lawrence said as pure energy began to come together at his side - pure blue clusters of energy that came together in the rough form of a human, without a face, nor any features.

"So far... in so little time - maybe not for a man who will ultimately suffer from his mortality, such as yourself, time is so precious to you, and death is a glass ceiling that is not easily broken." The being, faceless, irradiated an energy, and gave off heat around where it stood. "Time is relative, and what we've done here... we're in the process of deciding the very future of Civilization, in the universal equivalent of a fraction of a second. I have existed since the very dawn of mankind, Admiral... time is merely a concept of our imaginations - to you, it may seem as though I have existed to a substantial length of time, but to me… it feels as though only yesterday I was given life."

Admiral Lawrence continued looking out at Orion, somewhat confused. "What exactly do you mean, Lord Sovereign?"

The being shifted, facing the Admiral, who looked back. "The same amount of time can feel very different to two different people - 100 years for me is but a moment, but for you, it is a lifetime." Sovereign turned back to looking out at the station, his blue energy now moving around his body like water, rather than zapping and popping like electricity. "The point I'm trying to make, Admiral, is that victory was never won by impulsive military action such as those you've taken recently - I'm no fool, you're eager to see our goals finally be fulfilled, and while I admire your dedication, I do not want your perception of time to endanger us. If you're afraid that you'll die before our ultimate mission is completed... don't be. If it takes us a thousand years, so be it - we cannot overstep and risk losing everything we've fought for."

"Yes, sir." Admiral Lawrence said, straightening his posture and turning to face Sovereign and saluting. "I apologize, Lord Sovereign, I've been letting my ambitions get the best of me lately, and it is selfish to do so."

"Do not apologize, Robert" Sovereign commanded, his watery energy turning back to electricity. "Atlas does not deal in apologies - we deal in victories." The being turned, vanishing, and reappearing at the bottom of the steps. ”Do not make me speak to you on this matter again.” With that, the being dissipated into air, leaving the Admiral alone.

---

Unidentified Region of Space | Milky Way Galaxy
Commander Daniel Maxson

The AV Epsilon, a Frigate outfitted with highly advanced stealth and cloaking systems, had been deployed to a system located deep in space after reports of "unusual activity." Under the command of Commander Daniel Maxson, a lifelong member of Atlas, the vessel had only been in the system for a matter of minutes before they locked onto the small, 12-ship patrol fleet. After ensuring that it's stealth drives and cloaks were active, the Epsilon began to tail the enemy patrol ships, while activity spurred on it's command deck.

"Layman" Maxson called down to his Technical Officer, "send an order for reinforcements." Carly Layman nodded, beginning to type vigorously at her position before beginning to speak.

"AV Epsilon to Fleet Command... requesting QRF at following coordinates..." she proceeded to give their coordinates, then turning to look at the Commander. "Roger, sir, they're en route." Maxson nodded, stepping away from his podium, then pressing his hand to his ear to speak on ship-wide comms. "All Marines, report to the hanger. All Marines, to the hanger." He then yelled over to Layman. "Initiate cyber-warfare sweeps - target the Battle Cruiser and cut the power." She nodded, and got to work/

As Commander Maxson and hundreds of Synths & Human soldiers proceeded to the hanger to gear up and prepare for action, Tech Officer Layman and the Cyber-Warfare Team began infiltrating the Battle Cruiser's networks. Equipped with some of the most advanced Cyber-Warfare systems available, the AV Epsilon should be able to cut power to the vessel by the time the Atlas QRF arrives...

[Ormata]

Tru’Tat System, Forma
Byream’Ika Hall
Troaki’Dhau Autarky

The hall was dark; the Dhau disliked the brighter lights. It didn’t sit well with the eyes, which did not precisely care for such menial utilities. If they could see, why would they make it brighter, so went the general idea. The hall was dark, long and stretching out into the distance, and the walls, lined with paintings and bits of art, went-up to the vaunted ceilings. It was a dark hall, but an open one. Upon the floor was a carpet, thick and plush and patterned with a mosaic of art. Upon this carpet, in this dark hall, stood a figure.

He cut a curious image. Tall at some nine feet his stature was one of the military, one of the aristocracy, a stature that implied strength and wealth, the knowledge on how to use these and the wisdom to know when to use these. The Dhau’s legs, thick and powerful and oddly jointed, stood-out, open, their dark green flesh and pieces of armor standing-out against the onyx-gray wood of the wall, his hooves like little pieces of star they were so bright, shined. He stood-up, tall, despite the joints of the leg and a minor growth of zyvax upon the right. The doctors said it would present no trouble, treated it to ensure it’s benign nature, and would later treat it to ensure it’s dead nature. The Dhau appreciated their efforts; they were, it had to be said, well-paid enough to be worth it.

His upper torso was covered with a long, red robe, red as the color of coagulated human blood and red as the flowers on the planet’s surface. This was a thin thing, something meant for the planet and meant for such wear, yet over such a thing was an object of far more significance. A thick, heavy cloak, the kind one would expect to wear upon the winter’s day, the king one would expect to wear outside in the freezing blizzard, hung about his neck and shoulders upon a clasp. This was bloodied red as well, with a white trim, and the Dhau was careful with it about his shoulders. It had far more history than he, perhaps far more than the Autarky itself.

He shifted, both pairs of hands clasped, as though in reverence. The figure paused, eyes looking slowly from each painting to the next. One was an image of the Tromakiy, a cavalry unit during the Great War, charging across a bloodied field and charging across a bloodied line, whatever enemy they faced routing and fleeing. The artist had tastefully omitted the fact that an artillery bombardment had killed their mounts before the charge, and that the cavalry unit had charged across the field on their feet. The artist had also omitted the fact that the unit was wiped-out in that charge. Another image was that of Troumou’Dyantari, an explorer during the Second Expansion. He cut an impressive figure, it had to be said, though the artist had omitted his lack of one lower arm, something lost in a childhood accident. Each picture, the Dhau remembered, recalled the events and what was missing.

All just to forget what was coming.

He shifted again, nervously, eyes shifting and careful to know that what was coming was not the sort that occurred often. It was a grand action, a grand opportunity, something which had occurred very seldom in the Autarky’s history. It was an event which few Autarchs performed. A door, ornate and heavy, opened, and a human exited it, holding the door open. He was, in some ways, an example of the normal human in the nation, a tall figure whose musculature was extensive and whose irises were large. He was clothed as an officer ought to be, in his collared jacket, black, and trousers with boots, the sort whose medals and symbols marked him as a Lieutenant. He bowed his bald head slightly, one hand motioning for the Dhau to come.

And so, the Dhau followed. He moved through the door and was greeted by the Byream’Ika Hall’s sight, a massive thing whose architecture rose-up into the sky so far that it seemed one could imagine the very clouds forming. A cold breeze came over the figure, the wind blowing-through the great ornate windows. Upon either side of the hall were stands, high stands that extended upwards, and they were packed. Dhau and humans occupied these stands, with even a Fatvr colony in a little tank off to the side, watching, waiting, listening. The Fatvr enjoyed this sort of thing to a great degree. They thought it to be mind-opening, and the existence of one in the hall was a sign of the changing times. The last time such an event occurred, they had not existed in the Autarky.

In the center of the hall, however, was a formation. Standing in their places, standing at attention and holding in their hands those pieces they had carefully trained upon, the formation stood at their military attention and stood with their heads forward. They dared not look at the figure. The hall was silent, everyone pausing, everyone waiting, everyone watching. In the highest portions of the stands, snipers waited, soldiers waited, and these, too, were silent. They paused, and so did the figure. The Lieutenant beside him moved-up, behind him, taking the cloak from his shoulders and handing it with reverence to another Dhau in dark blue robes, who accepted with just as much reverence, eyes closed and head bowed.

To them, it was a religious object, something which held power simply by existence and held power simply by age. It was an old cloak, made before Forma was unified and made before the Autarky had came into being. It was an old cloak, worn here in the same hall before, worn in the same events before. It was old, and it had power. The entire planet knew that. The Dhau approached the formation, coming upon a high pedestal sat before them, and he mounted it. His lower hands still clasped, his upper two picked up a slender piece of wood, motioning with it. The formation sat down in their seats, other staying standing, and with another motion they brought those instruments up. Thus began the concert.

It began with the brass, a low rumble that continued as though the very ground was shaking. It began with the brass, the rumble of thunder in the greater distance before the winds and strings set-upon the concert with a will, coming with a rolling rhythm as though one was quick-marching in formation. The percussion turned into the footsteps, a fast thing as the two Dhau in the back of the formation set to work with their lower, powerful arms, beating against the drums with a will. The concert had begun, and it continued for perhaps an hour. The event did not happen often, for the concert to be conducted by the Autarch himself, and he was damn proud of it.

It was a hobby of his.

[Tagali Federation]

Unidentified Region of Space | Milky Way Galaxy
Commander Daniel Maxson

The AV Epsilon, a Frigate outfitted with highly advanced stealth and cloaking systems, had been deployed to a system located deep in space after reports of "unusual activity." Under the command of Commander Daniel Maxson, a lifelong member of Atlas, the vessel had only been in the system for a matter of minutes before they locked onto the small, 12-ship patrol fleet. After ensuring that it's stealth drives and cloaks were active, the Epsilon began to tail the enemy patrol ships, while activity spurred on it's command deck.

"Layman" Maxson called down to his Technical Officer, "send an order for reinforcements." Carly Layman nodded, beginning to type vigorously at her position before beginning to speak.

"AV Epsilon to Fleet Command... requesting QRF at following coordinates..." she proceeded to give their coordinates, then turning to look at the Commander. "Roger, sir, they're en route." Maxson nodded, stepping away from his podium, then pressing his hand to his ear to speak on ship-wide comms. "All Marines, report to the hanger. All Marines, to the hanger." He then yelled over to Layman. "Initiate cyber-warfare sweeps - target the Battle Cruiser and cut the power." She nodded, and got to work/

As Commander Maxson and hundreds of Synths & Human soldiers proceeded to the hanger to gear up and prepare for action, Tech Officer Layman and the Cyber-Warfare Team began infiltrating the Battle Cruiser's networks. Equipped with some of the most advanced Cyber-Warfare systems available, the AV Epsilon should be able to cut power to the vessel by the time the Atlas QRF arrives...

Vasili was ripped out of his concentration on the holographic star map when the power suddenly shut off. The bridge went temporarily dark before the back up generator came online, keeping life support and intership communications on, along with activating backup lights across the ship. Vasili hailed engineering.

"What's going? why are we dead in the water!?"

"We're going over the systems. Everything seems to be in order."

"Were we not cleared for space travel at the last port?"

"We past with exceptional success. It's like something from the outside got us." Vasili thought to himself. What could have done this. Could it have been- No, no human nation could rival the might of the Empire. Not even them.

---

Meanwhile, the rest of the fleet had taken notice of the sudden shutdown of the battlecruiser. Within minutes, the rest of the fleet made short jumps to other parts of the system. Supposedly leaving the stranded Battlecruiser to fend for itself.

[Labstoska]

High above the world of Horus
star system Alpha Seuden
British expeditionary fleet
The planet of Horus was a small insignificant world orbiting a rather boring pale yellow star, Lord Admiral Alfred Williams would have wanted the empires first conquest to of been a bit more grand however Horus was the closest and the least defended being controlled by an upstart warlord so it would have to make do for now.

the fleet consisting of one Britannia class super destroyer, 12 Windsor class frigates and a whole bunch of troop transports just waiting to jump in the moment the battle in orbit had been won. "First officer what are the estimates on the enemies defense fleet"the Lord Admiral called from his command chair ( or the throne as some of the crew liked to call it)" sir the enemy force is estimated to have 3-5 converted civilian spacecraft and one defensive orbital station, 'poor bastards' the admiral thought to himself he almost pitied the savages. " Alright gentlemen lets give these barbarians the good news, the British empire is back!"

The fleet began it's attack on the planet with the Britannia going in head on and the 12 Windsors acting as long range support, the 6 converted civilian spacecraft ( the lord admiral had a good old screaming match with his first mate for that little miscalculation) began to open fire on the Britannia however their flimsy armour was no match for British hypersteel, the British retribution started with the Britannia driving right through one of the defending craft, the remaining defenders hoped to use this opportunity to damage the Britannia's hull however the supporting fire from the Windsor's gave them no such chance, instead the defenders attempted to rally around their Orbital installation whom was now providing missile fire hoping to destroy some of the windsor class frigates who had now managed to pick of two of the defending spacecraft. The defense station succeeded in destroying one of the windsor frigates however by then the Britannia had closed in and was now opening up on the defense station with the full power of her broadside lasers, let us just say that the defensive station had seen better days in its lifespan so it was quick to explode in front of massive barrage of laser fire that the Britannia was opening up on it with. The remaining three spacecraft attempted to flee the onslaught but the fire power of the Windsors and the Britannia quickly cut them down." Sir all enemy forces have been destroyed and we have only sustained minimal losses" the first mate exclaimed "well one loss is a loss too many" the lord admiral started he then proceeded to bellow across the bridge " i should have you all demoted for incompetence, now send a message to field marshal Andrews that they are clear for landing on the planet."

Suddenly a message appeared on the holoscreen in front of him, the lord admiral stood up shakily and said " first mate please prepare some form of shuttle craft to deliver me back to Trappist-1 immediately and tell field marshal Andrews that he is now in command of this entire system" the first mate replied with clear confusion in his voice " uhh yes sir on it now but may i please inquire why?" the lord admiral took a deep breath and said "the king... the king is dead."

[The Moscow Metro Red Line]

"The greatest of heroes always started as the most humble of servants. The greatest of villains always started as the most proud of servants. Above all things, we are the children of the Gods. And as children, we should obey our ever loving parents whose love is jealous and is overflowing." - The Book of the Prophet Verchu The Kirnleth, 13th Translation

---

Emweh the Most Exalted of the Exalted Temple - Kel'kin VI - Kel'kin System -The Enclave

The word Zaron is an Exodite word meaning life. If there was a word synonymous with the Enclave it would be Zaron. Without Zaron there would be no Enclave. Without the Enclave there would be no Zaron. These two work in tandem and work symbiotically with each other. To remove one would greatly diminish the meaning and the symbol the meaning of the other. All this being said, in the seemingly endless pantheon of Zaron there is a common god which they all acknowledge as the best. That is Emweh who is known as the Most Exalted of the Exalted, the Oldest of the Exalted, the Father of the Exalted, Emweh the Highest, and many more. There are many temples dedicated to his name throughout the Enclave. So much so that it borders on the edges of absurdity and impracticality.

On the jungle world of Kel'Kin VI, a great chime sounds throughout the planet. A flood of people of biblical portions streams towards the nearest temple. The chime which was sounded is the call to worship and prayer. It is a signal for the flock to lay down their work and replenish their spiritual health. For any foreigner, it is quite a sight to behold as all of the sudden the streets become desolate and empty as everyone is in the temple. Even off-worlders of the Enclave join the local population in their time. While there is a possibility of theft during this time, such behavior is discouraged during these sacred times. If a crime occurs during this time, the punishment is death. This law applies to both citizens, non-citizens, and foreigners. While this policy has caused some problems for foreign relations, the Enclave is adamant in maintaining this rule. Some foreign embassies and consulates have suggested for their citizens to simply stay indoors and in their rooms during this time to avoid any misunderstandings.

A temple is always constructed as a circular structure with a single tower in the middle with the symbol of the Enclave at the top of the tower. The great doors into the temple opened and a flood of people walked in. The temple was spacious with numerous religious art decorating the walls. Simple drawings to elaborate holographic reconstructions of various stories from the Kirnleth. There was a table in front of the entrance with small circular devices in a large urn. Some of the people in the crowd went over to it and picked up a device, placing it in their ear or the equivalent of an ear. Everyone gathered at the center where the base of the tower was. A figure in green robes stood over the flock, with the holy book in front of her. As the crowd began the settle, the figure began to speak.

"Before we begin our praises and our spiritual replenishing, I would like start with this passage from the Kirnleth. This comes from the Book of the Prophet Imenus. he writes, 'How great is the love of the Exalted Ones. Who love will always love their children the same as yesterday and forever. I can find no greater joy and no greater meaning than in the Exalted Ones. To surrender everything to the Exalted One is not foolish, but worthy of praise. Glory to Drelix, the vigilant sentry. Glory to Xledna, the fearless warrior. And glory most highest to Emweh who is the highest of highest. The heathens will scatter before us and justice will prevail'."

---

New Nelson - Golevka III - Golevka System - Outskirts of The Enclave

There was a planet on fire. A world covered in destruction and death. It was nighttime on this side of the planet. An appropriate lighting as death seemed and followed every corner. There was once a beautiful city here. A port city that was prosperous. A port city that was the jewel of this system. But most importantly, a port city belonging to an human colony independent from the Enclave.

In a desolated library, with toppled shelves, broken walls, cracked tables and chairs, and numerous bodies, was a single soldier. He was the last of his unit. He carried a cracked sniper rifle with him as he darted from collapsed shelf to collapsed shelf. This library was the last tall building left in the city. A mere six stories tall. As he turned a corner, he tripped on something and fell face first into a soft and fleshly cushion. As he got up slowly from his cushion, he flinched in horror as he realized that his cushion was the open chest cavity of a Bechareth grunt. He tried desperately to wipe the blood and the guts from his armor, painting the white wall behind him red. As he did this he heard a noises from the outside. He fell down to the floor and then began crawling his way to a broken window. As he crawled, a trail of red followed behind him.

He crawled up to the window and looked out. There on the broken streets, and lit by fire and their armor lights was a squad of Efferlith Vanguard. They walked calmly through the street, with their carbines lowered and their silhouettes clearly visible. The lone sniper aimed his rifle for a few seconds but then stopped. He receeded into the library and walked past the Bechareth grunt. After walking for a minute he was met by the corpses of his comrades. A few of these corpses had pistols in their hands and a single shot through their necks and into their skulls.

The lone sniper went over to one of these corpses and grabbed it's left wrist. He pressed a button on the armor which caused the helmet to open. He grabbed the chin of the corpse and lifted it up for his eyes to see. The blank eyes of a woman stared back at him. He gently lowered his hand and then began walking away from the corpse. Just then he heard a scream.

He shuffled closer to where the scream was. It came from inside the library. He looked over and saw a squad of Efferlith Vanguard below him. These were the same vanguard as before but now they had a new companion. A civilian, a woman, was being dragged by two of the soldiers and was then thrown onto the floor. The vanguard were looking at each other and talking in their alien tongue. The lone sniper raised his rifle again and aimed. He steadied his rifle. And fired. A single shot cracked in the building and the civilian's head evaporated in an instant. The vanguard, hearing and seeing the shot, raised the carbines towards the sound and fired in its direction. The lone sniper crawled away as bursts of blue light illuminated the area around him. He ran farther away but he could hear their footsteps. Eager hunters after a cornered prey. He vaulted over bookshelves, crawled between holes in walls, and towards an open elevator shaft. As he got closer to the shaft, a figure stepped from the shadows and raised its weapon at him. He tried to stop and raise his own rifle but the figure shot first. A volley of plasma bolts hit him on the chest and he collapsed onto the floor.

His body twitched as the figure walked closer to him. The figure was feminine in figure and it stopped just above him. "This is Neva Leader. I've eliminated that sniper which has caused you problems." ... "Right. I'll get to it." The figure then turned and faced the dying sniper. "You should have accepted the mercy of the Exalted Ones. If you had, you would have avoided your fate." It then began to walk away, "This is Captain Kastella Marx to Neva Battalion. Return to the central hub. This city has been cleansed of the heathens."

[Alinora]

...

A scar seemed to tear space itself open, a fleet of Destroyers - all outfitted with the symbol of Atlas. The 11 Destroyers and hundreds of small-arms fighters, opened up on the deactivated Battlecruiser with tremendous firepower - using their new "Promethean Cannons" to tear apart the hulls of ships at the atomic level. The Destroyers fanned out, getting in defensive formation to prepare for the rest of the patrol fleet to attempt to counter attack, while the AV Epsilon hung back and continued to run cyber-warfare sweeps to keep the battlecruiser crippled.

In the Bay of the Epsilon, Commander Maxson had equipped his Officer's Combat Armor, surrounded by Synth Soldiers, who had begun to crowd onto the Drop Ships. Grabbing the support cable above his head, Maxson pressed his right hand to his ear, which enabled communication with the QRF. "Commander Maxson to QRF: watch our backs while we're in there. We should be in and out before the Tagali can send reinforcements." With that, dozens of Drop Ships broke off from the Epsilon and began hurling towards the Tagali Battlecruiser that'd been relentlessly attacked...

[Ormata]

Alpha Seuden System, High Orbit Above Horus
Negy-04 Expeditionary Fleet, ANV-Troga’Maxi’Doru
Contested Space

As the warlord fleet turned to ruined wreck, the hulls of some craft spinning lifelessly in the solar vacuum of space, smoke turning about and about as the various atmospheres vented and the crews suffocated, at the far reaches of the System, a disturbance was felt. The space itself was sucked inwards, distorted as it turned from a flat sheen of radiation to a tangled mess of yarn, and was, in but an instant, replaced by a pinprick of light. Nothing had been there before, nothing had entered into scanner range and nothing had approached from the distance at FTL speeds. No, instead, the space was merely replaced, and in it’s place was something that was far, far more productive than it’s replacement.

The bright light turned less so, fading as that infinitesimally small space expanded, an image and a fleet expanded, outwards and across all angles. And so, in the space of less than a picosecond, what was not there and had no warning suddenly appeared.

Floating there, in the white reaches of space, was Negy-04, a fleet implemented by the Autarky for reconnaissance purposes and investigative manners. In a word, they were the ones sent to look. While other empires would prefer to implement lightly-armed squadrons for the task, anything from a dozen corvettes to a singular cruiser to even, for some of the lesser species, a singular corvette, the Autarky deigned it necessary to send what other nations might call battle-fleets. First Contact was often painful, the Dhau knew, and so they wanted to be sure when encountering any enemy, possible or otherwise.

And so, there, floating in the midst of white space was a fleet, all surrounding three Torentarius-class battlecruisers, the fifteen Trimat-class corvettes disengaging themselves from the main cluster with maneuvers which looked much like what one would expect a fighter jockey to perform, retros firing in green expulsions as the corvettes scattered themselves across the loose fleet, scattering themselves from the rigid squadrons necessary for Blink travel. The Torentarius-class was, in some ways, a pocket battleship. Designed as it was for lesser duties, when the deployment of a full dreadnought squadron was deemed unnecessary, their small size belied a complex system of armor, weaponry, sensors, all lightweight enough for the vessel’s engines to power it to high speed. It’s bulky lines, heavy with armor plating, were like those of a freighter, and the low pylon sitting atop the entire vessel held it’s small, hexagonal bridge.

Sitting in this bridge, watching the white reaches of space pass by and the stars and the midnight black, was the lead ship’s crew, the crew of the Troga’Maxi’Doru. She was, in some ways, a storied vessel; all of her class were. It was an old class that had seen much and done much in it’s time. They were not of the sort to not. Her crew knew the history, too; they had lived-through, for some of the youngest, half of it’s service life, toiling upon it, working upon the vessel. Some of the older had been on the vessel since it was first commissioned. They knew the ship well.

Yet sitting in the chair of the vessel was the Admiral, and she had not lived through such adventures and tribulations. Her uniform, black and sleek with a white line running down the center of the jacket, did mark her as Navy, yes, and the symbols upon her collar and shoulders marked her as Admiral, yet the woman had not been upon the vessel for a long time. Perhaps a year, no more than that. Her red short hair was kept up and her eyes kept moving. She saw what was in front of her and, frankly so, it was not what she expected. In front of her was the tarried chaos of a battle, the vessels falling in flame and smoke towards the planet ever so slowly, venting what they could as the powers which be tore them asunder, ripping weak metal from weak metal. In front of her was the tarried chaos of a battle, a fleet hanging, suspended, in the midnight black. In front of her was the tarried chaos of a battle, and she was not afraid.

Merely annoyed.

“Sensors, magnify that fleet.” The Admiral ordered, snapping briefly. She wanted a closer look at the vessels which she might be asked to fight or which might offer a fight. She wanted to see who these people were. Before the sentence was even completed, the reinforced viewports on the bridge turned digital, one portion specifically turning from a window to a viewing station, magnifying up and close and seeing the fleet. It was a benefit, the Admiral had found, to have Fatvr upon the bridge. They proved useful to weed-out fear, to give a calm atmosphere, and to transmit orders far, far quicker. They could pluck those orders out of the air, send them directly to the other crewmember. The stuff hung on the walls of the bridge, green and pulsating with life. They liked the CO2.

Getting-up from her chair, she tentatively approached the image. They looked as though to be floating hunks of metal, circular and with sharp angles and all looking out-of-place in the painted night. They looked to be out-of-place; perhaps that was a good thing. Perhaps that was an interesting thing. They valued sights, valued appearance. Good. The Admiral was glad, though it did not show on her face. They were also new, different. First Contact. She jumped to action, striding back to her chair as she barked-out orders.

“Sound General Quarters! Bring up about, course 454-04-07! Weapons Officer, order to begin calculations for Blink jumps onto that dreadnought! Shields up, full! Comms Officer, bring-up the fleet.” There was no telling what savages would do. The vessel, and indeed the fleet, oriented as they were with the lead vessel, turned-about to directly point at and face the unknown fleet. Across the Troga’Maxi’Doru a harsh alarm sounded, just twice. Twice was all that was needed for the crew to jump to it. Across the viewscreen, seventeen screens opened, every one of them a Captain. The Admiral addressed them cordially. “Gentlemen, we face First Contact. The unknowns may be hostile. Sound General Quarters and prepare to engage. Do not fire the first shot. That is all.” And thus, the cordial talk was done. She was gentler than the Dhau Admirals; they would yell-out their orders, if they were excited enough. Blood was like wine to them.

“Now...hail the unknowns, Comms.” The channel was brought-up.

“This is Admiral Harma, of the Autarky Naval Vessel Troga’Maxi’Doru to unknown vessels. Identify yourselves.”

[Imperialisium]

Carpathia Sector
Sub-Sector Carpathia
Carpathia System

The Carpathia Sector, connected by a lone Hypergate to the rest of the Empire, sat on the edges of the Milky Way Galaxy. Covering three Sub-Sectors of space and the occupied Kharadonese Empire. The Imperial-Kharadonese war having only ended ten years ago. When the latter launched an unprovoked attack on the Imperial colonies. Over five years of war followed in which many worlds where devastated. Now, the sector slept at a present calm. Its masses living their lives in peace after the horrors of recent war. Its military on the look out, patrolling the space lanes and marching down the avenues of the occupied Kharadonese empire. Fostering a resurgence in the sector economy as the space lanes no longer where under threat of attack.

But the Sector was looking outwards. Looking to explore neighboring regions of space in the name of the Emperor. Even now the Imperial Navy was busying itself with forming several expeditionary forces that will be sent out into nearby systems to chart, recon, and explore new worlds.

The orbital dockyards above the Sector capital, Carpathia, were full of hundreds of ships coming too and from the system. Luxury liners, passenger ships, bulk haulers, trawlers, and the occasional security corvette. Looming, like wolves on the edge of the space lanes, lone Naval warships prowled. Their armaments and tracking computers slaved to the ships artificial intelligence and gunnery crews. Carpathia was home to three billion Imperial citizens. A pristine world of immaculate cities with wide boulevards, clear rivers, clean lakes and oceans, and vast stretches of untouched wilderness. This was the frontier of the Empire. The very fringes of known space in all its entirety. Farthest from the Throneworld. Only one could possibly wonder at what would discover out in the vast blackness of space.

Formal X Shipyards

The Formal System was entirely made up of gas giants and small chunks of lifeless planetoids. But was rich in mineral and gaseous materials. It was also the home of the Imperial Navy's largest shipyards in the sector. Capable of servicing up to two hundred ships simultaneously it was a vast conurbation of docking ports, galleys, quarters, and stockyards housing untold tons of supplies. Now, a row of docks called G-1 through G-10 where full of various ships from small corvettes to the hulking Grand Cruiser-Vigilant's Regard. It was a Gravion class Grand Cruiser. An old design but still boasting powerful armaments and fully functioning despite 700 years of service. Actually older than the Sector itself and one of the first ships to enter the region of space. Its lists of Captains and crew was long. But now it was going on a new mission. Not a routine patrol, not into combat, its service history stretching over twenty wars and some 140 separate engagements. Its hull and systems works of art as typical of Emperian manufacture. It was going to lead an expedition deep into the Galaxy. In search of new worlds and life.

[Orostan]

The Space Between Stars

The three Kilometer Factory ship propelled itself through space at many times the speed of light, its warp drive carrying the ship along. Beside the ship in warp were its escort of six 500 Meter Frigates, armed with death rays and plasma launchers. The ships were the First Vanguard Group, sent ahead of Narraga to secure possible mining worlds, and begin operations. They were one of many Vanguard groups, and they were the farthest to the front. Behind them were the other Vanguard Groups, sent forward for the same tasks. Interstellar dust in this section of the galaxy had the strangest patterns, which were seemingly indicative of FTL travel in the area. There were also curious bits of what seemed to be starship components picked up in deep space, all of which gave no clues to their builders, or why they had so many war scars. Regardless, the Naragga kept moving through space, sending a wake of interstellar dust and gas indicative of Naragga's huge mass behind it. In front, the waves of Vanguard ships advanced. By the time Naragga passed the mining outposts, there would already be enough resources harvested to fuel the Combine until the next operation, and a little more. After all the years of harvesting, excess resources were growing and there were serious questions of if the fleets should settle down, and build stationary structures unlike the mobile science platforms and factory ships that were servicing the Combine of Naragga right now. Sixty Billion and Four was the AI Commanding the First Vanguard. OTherwise known as Seebe, Sixty Billion and Four was currently guiding the six Frigates and the Factory ship through warp. He had been inside this factory ship all his life, since his parent, Ten thousand Three Hundred and Twenty Four, and this was the first Vanguard Mission he'd ever been sent in. Seebe wondered why he even thought of himself as a he. What was gender to an AI? Probably meaningless, Seebe thought. A sub routine within Seebe's factory ship body informed him his little group would be leaving warp soon. Seebe's 'sight', which was the sensor systems on each of the ships he flew could see in multiple spectrums, including radio. And right now, Seebe was seeing radio signals where none should be, even as distorted as they were passing through his warp fields. Strong radio signals meant there was a stellar anomaly that generated radio signals, of which scans had not indicated. The other possibility was far more intriguing, intelligent life could be generating these signals. Seebe began to slow his group, lessening the power of his warp fields, and allowing less distorted radio signals to come in. Within a moment, Seebe knew that these radio signals had specific patterns and repeated sounds contained within them. That meant someone was transmitting on those frequencies, and they might be hostile. Seebe knew he could not stop an encounter, you do not just turn around in warp. So Seebe chose the safest option, to drop his warp fields and fall out of warp just outside the system, and approach the inner system at a safter sub light speed, which he promptly did.

[Tagali Federation]

...

A scar seemed to tear space itself open, a fleet of Destroyers - all outfitted with the symbol of Atlas. The 11 Destroyers and hundreds of small-arms fighters, opened up on the deactivated Battlecruiser with tremendous firepower - using their new "Promethean Cannons" to tear apart the hulls of ships at the atomic level. The Destroyers fanned out, getting in defensive formation to prepare for the rest of the patrol fleet to attempt to counter attack, while the AV Epsilon hung back and continued to run cyber-warfare sweeps to keep the battlecruiser crippled.

In the Bay of the Epsilon, Commander Maxson had equipped his Officer's Combat Armor, surrounded by Synth Soldiers, who had begun to crowd onto the Drop Ships. Grabbing the support cable above his head, Maxson pressed his right hand to his ear, which enabled communication with the QRF. "Commander Maxson to QRF: watch our backs while we're in there. We should be in and out before the Tagali can send reinforcements." With that, dozens of Drop Ships broke off from the Epsilon and began hurling towards the Tagali Battlecruiser that'd been relentlessly attacked...

Vasili almost lost his footing as the ship shook from the impact. With their scans and communication knocked out, as well as the lack of physical windows on Tagali vessels, the crew of the battlecruiser were unaware of the Atlas fleet presence until the fire from the prometheus cannons shook the ship. Fires had broken out near the bridge and all hands in the crew quarters were lost after taking a direct hit. Vasili was relieved, however, that the ship was not destroyed. Since they had stopped firing at the dead in the water vessel, whoever these people were, they meant to board the ship. Vasili spoke on the main comms.

"All hands, prepare for counter boarding actions." Just as with the rest of the survivors on board, a hardlight mask began to cover Vasili's face, based around the collar of his uniform . This bit of Tagali technology acted as a oxygen mask, supplying the wearer with oxygen for atleast 3 days and protecting the crew for what would happen next. oxygen began to vent from the ship. It was standard practice for Tagali vessels to purposefully vent oxygen during a boarding action. Giving the Tagali their culturally dictated advantage in ship based combat. Vasili hailed engineering.

"Engineering, Report."

"That barrage knocked a few of the systems we managed to get back online off again, but we're making progress."

"Do we have control of the hangar operations, yet?"

"Of course, why?"

"We're going to open the door for our uninvited guests. All hands in the Hangar Bay, leave the area. Hunter Teams 1-2, Warrior Lances 6-9, report to Hangar Bay entrance and take up defensive operations."

Meanwhile, after everyone had left the Hangar bay, the blast doors opened up. Without the pressurized shield, loose crates and other objects began to float out into space. Everything else that was locked into position, including the 6 Tagali Santara-class Fightercraft. By this point, the Hangar Bay was empty, not a single Crewman insight. The door to the hangar bay, but nothing came out. It stayed open for a a couple minutes before closing again, supposedly without a single thing entering.

[Alinora]

...

From the bridge of the AV Epsilon, the Cyber-Crews monitored transmissions throughout the Tagali vessel - taking note of the unusual activity taking place in the hanger, and making sure to avoid that sector of the ship. Thankfully, Atlas had developed a secondary boarding tactic. Ten large shuttles approached the vessel, coming to a halt at various locations across the ship's hull. An arm would extend outward, eventually connecting to the side of the vessel. Explosions would occur, tearing apart the ship's hull, followed by dozens upon dozens of Atlas soldiers. Though the Tagali had vacuumed the ship of all oxygen, the majority of Atlas' forces were Synths - not requiring it to live. The few Humans, including Commander Maxson, had respiratory systems built into their armor. As Maxson stepped onto the Battle Cruiser in his black armor, he would immediately begin to direct the rest of the Atlas personnel who had began boarding. "All units proceed to designated targets as per boarding motion 21-4."

Maxson and his crew of 10 would begin their push towards the Bridge, while other units would begin to proceed towards other centers of the ship such as the engine room, shield generators, and life support systems. It wasn't long before the Atlas forces would meet and engage Tagali defenders, but Atlas Synths were a force to be reckoned with, and would not give in easily.

[The Moscow Metro Red Line]

"The word of the Exalted Ones surpasses all prior and future knowledge of this mortal plane. Do not fret if you cannot understand it at first, for its wisdom is folly to those who abide by the ways of this mortal plane. It shall empower the weak and rob the strong. Only the faithful shall remain standing. Both the living and the dead." - The Book of the Prophet Saycreed, The Kirnleth, 13th Translation

---

New Nelson - Golevka III - Golevka System - Outskirts of The Enclave

The fighting in the city subsided. All around the city, the forces of the Enclave began to head back to their transports. The planet has been purged of the heathens. The only heathens that were living had been placed upon poles and left to slowly die. Drones of Efferlith design began to scout the city for the bodies of the heathens and placed them into a large pile. The bodies of the faithful, were incinerated where they fell.

In the center of the city was a spaceport which was used quite often among the former populace of this city. During the invasion, this was used as the main landing site of the Enclave soldiers. The spaceport has a name, but the Enclave soldiers simply referred to its as the central hub. A multitude human soldiers gathered in a burn-out hanger of the starport. Around them were the frames of battlesuits of Efferlith design. The Battlesuits had the unit markings of a human tactical armor battalion. In the Enclave Military, battlesuit units are officially referred to as Tactical Armor Battalions. However everyone else just simply calls them Battlesuits since it is much easier to say.

Even though the soldiers assembled wore armor similar to that of the regular human rifleman, they all are actually battlesuit pilots. Battlesuit pilots fight as mechanized infantry. Since their battlesuits all have a combat AI, they can simply leave it on autopilot and fight as regular infantry. Of course all of them prefer to stay inside their suit, but there are those moments in a battle where the pilot is much better off leaving the suit in autopilot than attempting to fight using the suit. As such, battlesuit pilots are given more training than the average rifleman.

A woman with short blonde hair walked up to the assembled pilots. Once they all saw her, they stood at attention and saluted. "At ease." The woman ordered, to which all of the pilots became more relaxed. "Soldiers of the Ostian 15th Tactical Armored Battalion. Comrades, this day you have performed admirably. You have served the Enclave well and you have made yourselves into truly great warriors for the Exalted Ones. We shall depart this wretched planet within two hours and return back to home to rest. You have all deserved it. You are dismissed." The pilots saluted her and then began to depart from the hanger.

In the sea of faces, the woman noticed a single Efferlith Battlesuit pilot with commander markings walking towards her. The commander saluted to her and then removed its helmet revealing a male Efferlith face. Efferlith male and female faces were almost similar to each other. Perhaps the only difference between the two is that the female face looks more a little like a human's face. "Captain Kastella Marx." The commander spoke calmly.

"Commander Ke'lshan Ir'xan." Kastella replied, and then returned a salute. "What brings you here?"

The Efferlith Commander reached into his armor's side pocket and took out a flask and two glasses. "A celebration drink for a glorious victory." Contrary to its appearance, the flask did not contain any alcohol. Efferlith biology is unable to handle alcohol, thinking that it is a hazardous and dangerous substance. As such many Efferliths have drunk things with caffeine in them such as teas or coffees." He gave a glass to Kastella and poured her and himself some tea. They clinked glasses and then drank. "This process would have been much easier if the humans had simply embraced the mercy of the Exalted Ones. If they had, they wouldn't have met such an unfortunate fate."

"If they had, we won't be here right now sipping tea over the corpses of these heathens." Kastella replied and then drank some more tea.

"I feel some pity towards them. So lost in their decadent ways that they have lose all forms of reason and as such forsake the mercy being offered." He took another sip, "I'm actually here to tell you of certain developments within the Enclave."

"Really? Do tell."

"I have heard some rumors that the Circle has decided to investigate certain human colonies at the outskirts of the Enclave. This terrorist organization known as Atlas as put the Circle into some form of panic. They fear that humans within and near the Enclave are collaborating with them. Of course such fears are unfounded in my opinion, but such fears exist in some of the most powerful people of the Enclave. As your former classmate and your friend, I am telling you to be prepared for an inquisitional investigation into your affairs. I of course believe in the steadfastness of your faith and your zeal, but some of the inquisitorial agents may not be as so perceptive as I. Stay safe, my friend. It would be a pity to hear how the greatest human commander in the human tactical armored battalions got mistakenly killed for some overzealous agent's mistake."

Commander Ir'xan grabbed Kastella's glass and place his items back into his armor pocket. He placed his helmet on his head again and walked away. Kastella gazed at her friend as he left. "Only the faithful shall remain standing." She muttered to herself and then began walking to the other side of the hanger.

[Labstoska]

High above Horus
HMS Britannia
The lord Admiral was just about to board the military shuttle craft, it was a small squat vessel with no kind of elegance whatsoever it's cube like appearance didn't any favours either however it was fast and practical if he was lucky he would be able to arrive at new London before the House of Lords stated their grand debate of who should be the next king. God forbid what would happen if he could not arrive on time. Most likely the lords would spend the next year or so debating wether or not the next should have the same hair colour as the previous one and from there onwards the empire would stagnate and die from the inside.

Rather suddenly his launch procedures were rudely interrupted by the blaring sound of an alarm and robot like voice coming over the speakers saying " Unknown vessels have entered close range of the fleet, all crew report to your post, all flights of the Britannia are to be canceled, this is not a drill". Upon hearing this the lord admiral unstrapped himself from his seat and exited the hanger bay, as he walked through the now crimson lit corridors he saw the various crew members panicking as they scrambled to get to their various posts."Pride of the royal navy" the lord admiral muttered as he entered the elevator, no regard for rank or reason this crew was a bunch of rookies dressed up in fancy uniforms shoved aboard the most advance ship in the entire navy and were expected to defeat any foe that came their way in the name of king and country no wonder they were falling apart, he was surprised they hadn't done so sooner.

When he eventually reached the bridge it was in utter chaos much like the rest of the ship the semi circle of monitors surrounding the command chair all showed statistics and estimates of how likely they were to win a battle all of which were worrying. The Lord Admiral sat down on his command chair and began screaming at the commanding officers to calm the hell down. The first mate spoke up in protest "si..sir we were never prepared for a fleet of this size this was only supposed to be a sm..small excursion out into space we weren't ex..expecting anything like this" the Lord Admiral rebuffed him "Calm down for gods sake man you are an officer in the imperial navy act like it" "ye..yes sir" replied the first mate looking rather dejected now. Rather expectedly the holoscreen in front of the lord admiral began to flash indicating that a message had been revived the Lord admiral patted down his greying brown beard and quickly polished a few of the medals on his chest and then chose to accept. When the holoscreen flashed to life with the image of woman wearing an odd uniform with short red hair, the lord admiral breathed a sigh of relief, they were human he could deal with humans. The woman then asked for him to identify himself, rather than incur the wroth of the gigantic battle fleet that this woman appeared to have control over he replied " I am Lord Admiral Alfred Williams of the British expeditionary fleet we must kindly ask you to vacate this area of space as it is a warzone and we have yet to find information in the ground to space weapons that our enemy might have" the lord admiral then awaited their response

Deep space
the RMS defiance
Space in the Draconis system began to boil and burn as a large gaping wound opened up in it and out of that wound a sleek and rather modern looking ship emerged. Few things in the empire were sleek or modern all of them were built with a practical purpose in mind however dame Amelia Harris was wealthy and was therefore the exception. Everything on her ship was of the highest quality, in the captain's quarters the large wardrobe propped up against the wall to pencils on her desk were hand crafted to the highest standard. The ship was of it's decor for a different reason, they were waiting in the Draconis system for the Atlas envoy to appear in order to discuss the possibility of Trappist constructing androids for Atlas. Over the speaker a cold metallic voice said " signal coming in from Atlas source would dame Amelia Harris please report to the bridge". She patted down her short blonde hair and slotted a top hat over it (she was quite scandalous in the press for her wearing of top hats) and then began walking to the main bridge. Not only was she hoping to secure a deal with them on android production and the possibility of military activity but with the king dead perhaps Atlas could aid her with a different matter...

[Alinora]

- ATLAS -

---

Somewhere in Deep Space

A lone Dreadnought, the infamous flagship of the Atlas Navy, emerged from a wormhole deep in the vast expanse of space - decorated in the symbol of the organization it represented. The presence of such a massive ship would be... intimidating, if nothing else - such a mysterious organization, with access to such vast resources certainly made it a group not to cross. That is surely why the British decided to ally with them, rather than oppose them - few who crossed Atlas lived to tell the tale. Commanded by Admiral Aaron Rylech, the Dreadnought known as the AV Imperium would hail the British vessel with a short, simple message:

AV Imperium to vessel: you have clearance to board our vessel with a lone shuttle. Hangar Bay 27 is open for your envoy to dock.

[Tagali Federation]

...

From the bridge of the AV Epsilon, the Cyber-Crews monitored transmissions throughout the Tagali vessel - taking note of the unusual activity taking place in the hanger, and making sure to avoid that sector of the ship. Thankfully, Atlas had developed a secondary boarding tactic. Ten large shuttles approached the vessel, coming to a halt at various locations across the ship's hull. An arm would extend outward, eventually connecting to the side of the vessel. Explosions would occur, tearing apart the ship's hull, followed by dozens upon dozens of Atlas soldiers. Though the Tagali had vacuumed the ship of all oxygen, the majority of Atlas' forces were Synths - not requiring it to live. The few Humans, including Commander Maxson, had respiratory systems built into their armor. As Maxson stepped onto the Battle Cruiser in his black armor, he would immediately begin to direct the rest of the Atlas personnel who had began boarding. "All units proceed to designated targets as per boarding motion 21-4."

Maxson and his crew of 10 would begin their push towards the Bridge, while other units would begin to proceed towards other centers of the ship such as the engine room, shield generators, and life support systems. It wasn't long before the Atlas forces would meet and engage Tagali defenders, but Atlas Synths were a force to be reckoned with, and would not give in easily.

As the Atlas intruders made their way through the ship, they would soon be ambushed by cloaked Tagali troops. While not exactly ones yearning for a fight, the Tagali will fight with ferocity unheard of when defending their territory or backed against a wall. Plasma flew threw the corridors of the battlecruiser, tearing through large numbers of the Atlas boarders. Around every corner, it seemed as there was another group of Tagali Warriors lying in wait for their Atlas prey.

Meanwhile, outside the vessel, the rest of the Tagali fleet returned. Now organized into a a spear head formation, going full speed towards the Atlas ships. While to an outsider, it would appear the fleet abandoned their comrades in their time of need, they were simply following standard procedure, pulling back from the site of an ambush, waiting for whatever attacked to show itself, then turning the tables and descending on it. The ships began to launch a screen of plasma fire, clearing out many of the fighter craft. The heavy plasma beam cannons of the targeted the destroyers in rapid succession, destroying large chunks of their hulls.

Back on the ship, Maxson and his team approached the Bridge, the doors straight ahead. As they passed a corner, Maxson was jumped by a four legged creature, pushing him to the ground. It was a Prakshi, a reptillian like creature that had been domesticated by the Tagali for thousands of years. It was fully armored, plates of armor protected vulnerable spots while it boasted a similar respirator as the Tagali. Maxson could see the creature trying to snap at it with it's powerful jaws, the only thing keeping it from biting down on his neck was the creatures respirator. It's poison tipped tail thrashed about, keeping his comrades from getting near him. As Maxson struggled with the Prakshi, the beast's handler, a Tagali Hunter decloaked, plasma blade attached to his wrist, appeared in the middle of the group. The Hunter cut through two of the nearest Atlas troops, while his fellow two comrades decloaked as well, supplying cover fire for the two close quarters combatants.

Behind the entrance to the Bridge, Vasili and the rest of the Bridge crew had their guns trained on the entry way, the sounds of the battle outside coming through muffled into the room.

[Alinora]

...

As Commander Maxson turned a corner, he found himself getting tackled by a massive, gnarling beast. A wave of pain shot through his body as he landed flat on his bag, with the drooling beast inches from his face - making a single swipe across his chest that tore apart the torso of his black armor, shooting sparks up from the electronic equipment inside. Daniel grabbed his blaster, which had slid a few inches away when he had been tackled, and pressed it up against the chin of the beast - firing six times before the creature roared and got off, stumbling around for a few moments before a hail of Atlas fire brought it down. Daniel could feel the lacerations across his chest, but ignored the pain - turning his attention to the Tagali hunter that, by this point, had killed two of his men.

He fired a lone shot that would meet on the Tagali's belly, then charge foreword - ramming his shoulder into it's hip, then lifting it up, and slamming it onto the ground. The other Atlas troopers would return fire on the other two Hunters while Daniel brought his fist through the Tagali's facemask multiple times, until purple blood was splattered across his body, and the Hunter was motionless. When he stood, grabbing his blaster, the remaining Atlas forces had eliminated the Hunters, and were ready to advance. "Commander Maxson to CIC" Daniel hailed the ship, "Alpha has suffered 4 dead - proceeding on same course with remaining units." He looked around to his men, then nodded, leading them the rest of the way to the double doors of the Bridge. "In positions" he said over comms, and approached the side of the door while one of the Synths approached and began to enter codes into the panel. Another Synth pulled out a cylinder - a grenade - and waited. Moments later, the doors slid open, and the second Synth tossed the grenade inside. A flash followed, and the squad of Atlas forces stormed in - gunning down anyone who could pose a possible threat, and taking position in various high points in the room. Commander Maxson, who stood out due to his damaged black armor, shouted - his helmet translating his words into Tagali.

"Everybody keep your hands where we can see them - you move, you die!"

[Spindle]

Command Creche
Outer-System Observation and Interdiction Platform Melodious
Sssrir System Edge

Hy'rr'el's bodily functions were a work of art.

Assimilated from the sessile species which had once lived in the system Hy'rr'el now observed, it carried all of the features which a motionless hunter carried - anchored into the ground by thick roots, his main body was studded with dozens of indentations. Each of those indentations held, at its centre, a barb-headed appendage and, when feeding in the times before the Collective, the appendages would extend with enough force to skewer most prey through-and-through. From there, the carcass could be drawn up to the central mouth at leisure, where the body would be cut down into smaller pieces, ready for full ingestion. Symbiotic bacteria unravelled connective tissue here, letting each portion of the animal float free in a gore-filled soup.

This soup would eventually move into the digestive tract proper. Here a colonies of organisms, ranging in size from a few centimeters to a few micrometers, worked away on every portion of the soup. The meat itself was easily digested, the gristle after a little effort. Bones were softened, liquidised and absorbed, hair dissolved and hide consumed by the Nssiis hives. The system was the most efficient the collective had ever seen to evolve naturally: almost eighty percent of the mass of any given victim was incorporated into the complex ecosystem which was a mature Rssirs.

The Collective had, in its own evolution, improved upon the system. Now the food could be taken apart on the molecular level and every single molecule it contained could be incorporated into Hy'rr'el's body, another member of his crew or even the very station they were living in. Beyond merely logistical advantages, this made it nearly impossible for any individual to become intoxicated by, or otherwise display adverse psychological effects from, high concentrations of certain substances. It was, from a number of viewpoints, a marvellous system.

Unfortunately, the lack of any waste meant that Hy'rr'el lacked the biological grounding necessary to say: "Oh shit!" when the situation called for it. This is a fact it was blissfully ignorant of when a two-and-a-half si'tt'or long ship dropped out of FTL and began to blue-shift rapidly. In part, this was because the Rssirs had never fully understood nor really cared about the more peculiar cultural oddities which other species expressed, and much of that knowledge had burned with a dozen other worlds. Mainly, however, this was because it was busy utilising the vocabulary it had available to it, with great effect.

"Two-trunked, black-barked, spine-shattered, flesh-ridden sack of tired old -"

With an obvious effort it calmed itself and stilled the colours rippling over its outer shell stilled to a regular maroon. Two of its feeding-appendages shot outwards, jerking to a rapid halt as Hy'rr'el brought them to a stand-still. With a twitch of the largest, it brought up the tactical holo: a sphere of light which filled the room around it. At the far edge of the room was the system's primary: barely the width of a full hook. The planets around it were smaller still: barely the size of a hook-tip for the smallest. Dotted throughout were dozens of the blinking spheres, indicating the operational ranges of each of the defence stations and their Ku'ss'in wings and the new objects.

And the blue-shifting objects was going to pass straight through Hy'rr'el's own volume of operations.

"Si'rr'ie?"

The smaller gasbag floated into view as a spread of smaller dots flared out from the station itself: the exosuits assuming the traditional atom formation around their mothership.

"Sir?"

"Paint the oncoming with a wide-spread LASER. Seventeen re'tt'or wavelength: make sure they know we're not trying to fry them."

"Message?" Si'rr'ie asked, her feeding-sail extending slightly in anticipation.

"Standard "remove relative velocity and state intention" for now." Hy'rr'el sighed, "Cycle it as normal, running through the languages. Let's try and get a base unit of communication together."

"On it." Si'rr'ie replied, her feeding-sails twisting as she interfaced with the station's internal systems. For a moment, nothing changed. Then the blue-shifting object lit up with reflected light. And that was the ball set in motion, Hy'rr'el realised. It was going to be a while before a reply could get back, but that wasn't all that bad. They had a number of things to do while they waited to see what the newcomers were going to do. With any luck they'd actually slow down before they hit anything important. Or initiated hostilities.

He hoped it wasn't the latter.

---

Command Core
CIS Harmony
Survey System 11094

Every rule has an exception.

It was a phrase which existed in dozens of cultures, separated by time and technology and physiology and space and contact. It was a rule which hundreds of different texts, audio clips and video feeds from more sources than the Collective could ever hope to archive contained. It was a perfect example of panculturual concept: that singular truth found across hundreds of different life-forms. It was an area which, unsurprisingly, held a great deal for the Collective. These were truths: the few ideas and concepts which species from every physiological and psychological group could agree upon.

It was unsurprising that so many of them spoke of imperfection.

Things can always get worse. If something can go wrong, it will. Never attribute to chance what can be attributed to malice. The tenets of a species - and society - which has managed to survive in the face of a world seemingly out to get them. It was, therefore, unsurprising that the rule: "Every rule has an exception" itself has an exception. That exception is relativity: the idea that no object can move faster than light for any given medium. It was never truly broken: instead, like a stage magician, every spacefaring society has learned how to create the illusion of faster-than-light travel without truly flaunting the laws of physics. Alternate universes, folded space and, of course, detached space.

It was that bubble of space-time which had collapsed seven seconds ago, depositing the Harmony into realspace with a flare of gamma rays which could melt the hull off of a decently-sized mining ship. It was an interesting phenomenon: though spacetime itself was massless, the displacement of the previous portion of spacetime still siphoned off a touch of vacuum energy and converted it into high-energy photons. It was a fascinating phenomenon, one which promised to revolutionise the energy industry. It was an area which Se'ss'il was intrigued by as much as anyone else, and as the system resolved into the screens in front of him he found himself fervently wishing that he'd decided to research it back on Ne'rr'ekk.

Because the local space wasn't exactly empty.

A handful of ships, standing just clear of the clunky boxishness which so often characterised a society new to FTL and far clear of the spindle-like fragility which marked those new to spaceflight, sat in the second world's orbit. Nitrogen atmosphere on that, along with the telltale traces of methane and water vapour which suggested that life - in at least some form - existed on the surface. The one city currently visible also provided some strong evidence for the existence of life there. Glancing back to the screen, Se'ss'il checked over the orbiting ships.

His antennae flicked with resignation. Of course. It was possible that the twin-railed protrusions were merely for transport, but there was another pancultural concept he felt appropriate here: if it works as a method of transport, it is also a weapon. His mandibles tightened with amusement: he'd been spending too much time conversing with Se'rr'esl lately. Her odd brand of cynicism was beginning to seep into his own psyche. Flexing his fingers for a brief moment, Se'ss'il considered the situation he'd found himself in.

The Harmonious wasn't a warship - not by a long shot. She had some armouring, but it was meant to provide protection against micrometeor impacts, not full-on railgun shots. Flight was something he'd rather not attempt right now: it was likely to provoke an overly-interested reaction from the residents of the orbits. And it wasn't as if he was certain they couldn't track his FTL, or overhaul him in FTL, and he certainly wasn't going to stake his life on it. So that was fight and flight out of the question: that left communication as his sole method of dragging himself out of the pit.

"Re'ss'ral?" He managed, almost startling himself, "Paint them with a comms LASER and cycle a greeting through whatever languages we've got in here. Let's see if we can give them enough datapoints to pull together a rough translation."

With the slow, dawning realisation of just how deep a pit he'd stumbled into, Se'ss'il considered the panculturals again. It seemed that he was seeing just how bad things could potentially get - how much further into the jaws of tragedy could they really advance?

[Orostan]

Sssrir System

As soon as Seebe entered the system, he knew something was up. The radio signals were strong here, strong enough to be in same system. His suspicions were confirmed a moment later when his ships were hit by a wide spread laser. The beam strength was low - low enough to not pose a threat, and the beam very easily reflected off the shields of the ships. Seebe responded with his own scan, sending out a powerful wide angle radar pulse from one of the domes on his Factory ship's underside, attempting to gain the lay of the land. The next thing he did was to activate his passive scanners, focusing on the station of origin, which was not around an outer planet as Seebe previously thought. Seebe fired a brief burst of thrust from each of his ships, changing their trajectory to head closer to the unidentified station. A moment later, a radio signal was identified that seemed to be directed at Seebe's ships. Probably a request of purpose, and of identification.

As Seebe did not know the local language, he did what most AI would do in his situation. He oriented his escort Frigates into a defensive formation, and began a response to the station on the exact same frequency. Seebe sent the standard first contact package, as his first radar and passive scans began to tell him what else was in the system, where it was in relation to him, what it probably was doing, and so on. The first contact package contained simple messages in an easy to read electronic forma, no audio included. The first section consisted of simple math problems, to ensure that whoever the AI was talking too was not a dumb automated system. The second more complex math problems, a test of intelligence for an organic being. And the third math problems that could only be solved with a complex computer (for most species), testing the sophistication of the alien computers, and the alien's technology. The message would then display the flag of the Combine of Narraga, a short message in the Narragan language - those of the creators of Narraga, that translated to "Greetings! We come without war."

[Ormata]

Cresmag’Ori System (Survey System 11094)
Ymar-37 Expeditionary Fleet, ANV-Crega’Xoru’Doru
Autarky Space

“Sir, incoming vessel.”

The Admiral was not precisely paying much attention. In fact, he was of the sort to read a datalink while the crew performing the more menial tasks. After all, one did have First Mates and Executive Officers and the like for a reason, did one not? As such, the Dhau’s reaction towards such interesting events was a mildly bored ‘hmm’, sitting in his chair was he was and holding-up the holographic pages to read. His career had been stunted, of that there was little in his mind, and there was far less for him to do about such a damnable thing than he would care to admit. The Admiral disliked his post and, perhaps, disliked his ships. Being upon the border of unknown space meant seeing a lot of what was known, that is to say space, and less of it.

His own fleet was of the style which was nice and fun and heavily outdated. Two dreadnoughts, one under his own personal command, stood in-orbit about the planet, along with three of the newer cruisers and a dozen of those pesky little corvettes. As a military operation, he would have felt very secure in his placement. The dreadnoughts were of the Da’Ida-class, older and in some ways outdated, but serviceable nonetheless. Their worth lay in their armor and weapons. Yet he wasn’t thinking upon that.

“Sir...sir the vessel is not transmitting an IFF. Sensors, are you sure that damn scan is correct? Admiral, the vessel is not on our charts.”

“What do you mean it’s not on our charts?” The Admiral’s interest was piqued. Such a thing...no, that wouldn’t happen to him. He couldn’t have that sort of luck. That was far, far unlikely, the mere concept was alien and odd. First Contact was something that happened to other people, something that shouldn’t happen, not now dammit. What odd thing is this? No-one expected it and his mind ran-through the correct procedures for First Contact. You did not perform such a thing, try to train for such a thing, no, you just took a course on it and that was that. What the hell was this? He sat-up straighter, turning the datalink off.

“Alien, sir. She’s...hailing us.” The Captain was getting just a bit agitated, the poor human, sweat underneath his collar, and he stood like a bird of prey over one of the consoles. Straightening back up, and leaning back, his response to another was, “Comms get that damn translator online!” And then he leaned back forwards, in a pose that might just seem natural.

“Keep working on the bloody thing. Doru’mah!” The last word the Admiral spoke was like a spitting curse, a thing which held more emphasis than the mere word suggested or his poise stated.

Yes. The Fatvr enjoyed a few things in life, on-board the Crega’Xoru’Doru. The crew made their CO2, the Fatvr made it’s Oxygen, and the generators didn’t really have to work that hard in terms of oxygen production. In some ways it was a transient, a moss that grew and was in the intermediate stages between a minor and major colony. It was one of the few which was not laid-about upon a planet. As a great result of this, the Fatvr possessed a greater boon to the vessel than many of the other crew. It could speak.

“Contact them, please. You already know the message.” The Fatvr did. There was blessed little it did not know about upon the vessel. And so it began, speaking through space and through metal hull and through shield, spoke to the other, unknown vessel’s crew. It spoke to them, carefully, calmly. For an older Fatvr, it did have a little sense of humor, and such a thing was communicated generally.

Hello. To whom do we address?

Alpha Seuden System, High Orbit Above Horus
Negy-04 Expeditionary Fleet, ANV-Troga’Maxi’Doru
Contested Space

"I am Lord Admiral Alfred Williams of the British expeditionary fleet we must kindly ask you to vacate this area of space as it is a warzone and we have yet to find information in the ground to space weapons that our enemy might have."

“While such information is pleasant to note,” her voice was ever so strained, taut, “We will choose to ignore it. Were you to be so worried about the enemy your fleet would not be so close to the planet and so close to your enemy.”

The Admiral checked her chrono. A minute had passed. The warheads would be ready. Good. The other Admiral, though, he was...odd. ‘Lord Admiral’, what a pompous and unnecessary title for a man commanding such a small fleet. ‘British’, though, that was a new one; she had not heard of a British anything for so damn long now that it seemed to be just a legend implemented to frighten small children...or make them laugh, depending on the notions. Strangely-worded speech, the man used, of the sort for the latter. As far as accents went, however, the man had one of the less pompous as she had heard. Perhaps such accents were not always pompous. Perhaps.

“We do not, however, come with ill intent. You stand upon the Autarky’s doorstep and we heard of the battle. I trust you do not come with ill intent against us, Lord Admiral. It would be...unfortunate.” A Dhau standing at his console, off to the side of the screen and out of sight from the Lord Admiral’s view, mimicked a tear falling from his face with one hand, a devious little smile playing upon his face. Weapons Officers liked getting to watch Blink Missiles be launched. It was a fun occasion for them.

[Lunas Legion]

Resource System Designate 4D-2B-N-3

Resource System Designate 4D-2B-N-3 was not the largest or most resource-rich system out there. A B-class star with a single moonless close-orbiting gas giant and an extensive asteroid belt which housed the vast majority of the system's salvagable metal resources. Hardly the most appetizing system for resources.

The Xa'ath had decended upon it regardless. Resources were resources. And this system was distant enough from the contacts they had stored in their memory banks that they doubted any of them would be willing to contest this system's resources. Of course, that did not mean contacts they had previously deleted could not be willing to contest it, but they had made relatively sure that would not be the case.

Grand Nodeform Twelve had assumed its standard position by the star, having extended the vast half of Dyson Sphere array it housed to devour the star's light to fuel itself, the various Forms it carried and the vast factories and memory banks within, surrounded by numerous Shipforms that would be termed 'battlecruisers' or 'destroyers' by others. Other Shipforms were scattered across the system as sensor pickets, keeping a silent eye as yet more varieties of Shipform filled with Workerforms buisily mined away at the asteroids or salvaging gases from the lone gas giants. Other groups of Shipforms had assumed similar positions in the surrounding systems, providing a further-out sensor picket and protecting the Shipforms and Workerforms focused on taking the resources in other systems.

After all, it would be highly inefficient to have the entire Xa'ath mining in one system for resources. Economies of scale were there to be exploited, and to not exploit them would be wasteful.

And so the Xa'ath continued to toil away, metals and useful gases being pilfered until either they had run out of resources to extract, they were forced to move or they ran out of space to store the resources, in which case they would move on. The Xa'ath only stopped moving when they were claiming resources. To not be moving onto the next system while constructing more Shipforms, Warforms or Workerforms would be inefficient with time.

[Tagali Federation]

...

As Commander Maxson turned a corner, he found himself getting tackled by a massive, gnarling beast. A wave of pain shot through his body as he landed flat on his bag, with the drooling beast inches from his face - making a single swipe across his chest that tore apart the torso of his black armor, shooting sparks up from the electronic equipment inside. Daniel grabbed his blaster, which had slid a few inches away when he had been tackled, and pressed it up against the chin of the beast - firing six times before the creature roared and got off, stumbling around for a few moments before a hail of Atlas fire brought it down. Daniel could feel the lacerations across his chest, but ignored the pain - turning his attention to the Tagali hunter that, by this point, had killed two of his men.

He fired a lone shot that would meet on the Tagali's belly, then charge foreword - ramming his shoulder into it's hip, then lifting it up, and slamming it onto the ground. The other Atlas troopers would return fire on the other two Hunters while Daniel brought his fist through the Tagali's facemask multiple times, until purple blood was splattered across his body, and the Hunter was motionless. When he stood, grabbing his blaster, the remaining Atlas forces had eliminated the Hunters, and were ready to advance. "Commander Maxson to CIC" Daniel hailed the ship, "Alpha has suffered 4 dead - proceeding on same course with remaining units." He looked around to his men, then nodded, leading them the rest of the way to the double doors of the Bridge. "In positions" he said over comms, and approached the side of the door while one of the Synths approached and began to enter codes into the panel. Another Synth pulled out a cylinder - a grenade - and waited. Moments later, the doors slid open, and the second Synth tossed the grenade inside. A flash followed, and the squad of Atlas forces stormed in - gunning down anyone who could pose a possible threat, and taking position in various high points in the room. Commander Maxson, who stood out due to his damaged black armor, shouted - his helmet translating his words into Tagali.

"Everybody keep your hands where we can see them - you move, you die!"

Vasili's vision was still blurry from the blinding light of the flashbang. He gestured for everyone else to do the same.

"You fool, do you know who I am. I am Vasili Khar-Shakan, and you are trespassing on a Noble House's vessel." Vasili's vision returned to him, allowing him to see the intruder's for the first time. He took note of their armor and weapons.

"Oh, it's you Atlas Bastards...."

---

22 years prior....
Tagali Occupied Neograd
New Voronezh


Vasili's ears were ringing as the gunshot rang out mere feet away from him. The crowd of angry Human rebels cheered as his Mother's lifeless body fell down to the ground. Vasili's father spat out a string of insults in Russian, before their executioner came over and hit him with the butt of his pistol. A Man stepped forward, wearing a long trench coat with a patch sown onto the right sleeve. The Man began riling up the angry mob, calling his family words he had never heard before such as collaborators along with a slew of insults his Mother had told him to never mutter. Chants of death began to be shouted from the crowd, a request the Executioner was eager to fulfill. The Executioner stepped behind Vasili, placing the barrel of a gun behind his head as Vasili's father begged.

[Labstoska]

Draconis system
The RMS Defiance
Dame Amelia Harris was on the long and fashionably decorated bridge with walls decorated with portraits of the king along the walls and the various monitors having decorated edges, an almost perfect blend between ancient 19th century and modern technology, when the message came through requesting that they enter a shuttle in order to board the Atlas ship. The Atlas ship was a dreadnought, miss Harris wasn't quite expecting them to bring a fully armed military vessel to a diplomatic mission however Atlas did need to make sure it's secrecy was maintained. So dame Harris went down to the lower decks and boarded one of the ships shuttles, it wasn't quite the elegant vessel she wanted in order to secure this deal with Atlas as the shuttle took on the appearance that most ships it the empire took on squat and with sharp edges poking out at various points in the ship to give it a cube like appearance alas it would have to do.

RMS Defiance to Atlas vessel: We are sending a shuttle to board your vessel please stand by

[Alinora]

- ATLAS -

---

Deep Space | Milky Way Galaxy
Commander Daniel Maxson

Commander Maxson gazed around the room at the Tagali while keeping his weapon aimed at the individual who had identified himself as Vasili Khar-Shakan, who had explained that they'd boarded the vessel of an Imperial House. To Daniel, that just made the operation even more successful - sticking it to the very minds of the Tagali occupation. Before he could reply to the Vasili character, who had called them 'scum', he received a transmission from Tech. Officer Layman. "Commander, I suggest you wrap up this operation - we won't be able to hold onto the ship's systems for much longer, and the QRF is under attack by the rest of the patrol fleet."

"Roger that" Daniel said, noticing a Tagali tech officer in the corner, and nodding to one of his Synths. The Synth approached the tech officer, grabbing him by the collar and effortlessly throwing him against the wall behind Daniel. Another Synth approached, grabbing the unconscious officer by the collar and holding him up, while the first Synth handcuffed him. Daniel would nod to the Synth, then speak to the rest of the Atlas personnel on the vessel. "All units: Juno. Repeat, all units begin Juno." Daniel looked up to Visili, his weapon in a ready position. "Looks like you guys just lucked out - be grateful, Atlas is rarely this generous." A Synth trooper tossed a small canister into the room, at Vasili's feet, and Daniel would follow his team out. Seconds later, a flash would erupt - giving Commander Maxson and his team time to return to their shuttle, along with the rest of the Atlas personnel on board. Still, he couldn't help but feel like that name was... familiar. Visili Khar-Shakan... he just couldn't put his finger on it.

Meanwhile, in space, the Atlas QRF found itself in a heated engagement with the Tagali patrol fleet - but held out well. The Atlas Navy was not large, no, but the organization chose quality over quantity - building it's ships to be quick, tough, and able to pack a punch. With it's Promethean Cannons, along with laser weapons, the Atlas Destroyers returned fire, fighting to hold their perimeter around the stalled Battle Cruiser, even though many ships began to suffer damage. Still, they had their orders - hold the line until the order is given to retreat.

---

Deep Space | Milky Way Galaxy
Admiral Aaron Rylech

The Admiral, escorted by dozens of Synth Troopers, made his way down to Hangar Bay 27, where he had directed the British envoy to dock. He personally had never understood the relationship that Atlas maintained with the British, but it wasn't his place to question Ashur, nor his motivations. If Lord Ashur believed that the British were a worthy ally, then he accepted it. Admiral Rylech entered the hanger, which was filled with Apex-Class Fighters - the main fighter of the Atlas Navy. A meeting area had been prepared not far from the hanger, so now, all that could be done was to wait. Admiral Rylech stood with his arms behind his back as columns upon columns of Atlas Synths gathered to greet the British.

[Tagali Federation]

(Image)

- ATLAS -

---

Deep Space | Milky Way Galaxy
Commander Daniel Maxson

Commander Maxson gazed around the room at the Tagali while keeping his weapon aimed at the individual who had identified himself as Vasili Khar-Shakan, who had explained that they'd boarded the vessel of an Imperial House. To Daniel, that just made the operation even more successful - sticking it to the very minds of the Tagali occupation. Before he could reply to the Vasili character, who had called them 'scum', he received a transmission from Tech. Officer Layman. "Commander, I suggest you wrap up this operation - we won't be able to hold onto the ship's systems for much longer, and the QRF is under attack by the rest of the patrol fleet."

"Roger that" Daniel said, noticing a Tagali tech officer in the corner, and nodding to one of his Synths. The Synth approached the tech officer, grabbing him by the collar and effortlessly throwing him against the wall behind Daniel. Another Synth approached, grabbing the unconscious officer by the collar and holding him up, while the first Synth handcuffed him. Daniel would nod to the Synth, then speak to the rest of the Atlas personnel on the vessel. "All units: Juno. Repeat, all units begin Juno." Daniel looked up to Visili, his weapon in a ready position. "Looks like you guys just lucked out - be grateful, Atlas is rarely this generous." A Synth trooper tossed a small canister into the room, at Vasili's feet, and Daniel would follow his team out. Seconds later, a flash would erupt - giving Commander Maxson and his team time to return to their shuttle, along with the rest of the Atlas personnel on board. Still, he couldn't help but feel like that name was... familiar. Visili Khar-Shakan... he just couldn't put his finger on it.

Meanwhile, in space, the Atlas QRF found itself in a heated engagement with the Tagali patrol fleet - but held out well. The Atlas Navy was not large, no, but the organization chose quality over quantity - building it's ships to be quick, tough, and able to pack a punch. With it's Promethean Cannons, along with laser weapons, the Atlas Destroyers returned fire, fighting to hold their perimeter around the stalled Battle Cruiser, even though many ships began to suffer damage. Still, they had their orders - hold the line until the order is given to retreat.

Soon after the effects of the flashbang subsided, the ship's power returned, activating the ship's security systems. Autoturrets throughout the ship activated, firing on the retreating Atlas Boarders. Back on the Bridge, Vasili regained his site, he was beginning to hate flashbangs after being hit with two within the span of ten minutes. Shortly after, one of the bridge officers approached him.

"Four dead, the Bastards took Naved. His children will grow up without a Father." Vasili looked at the now operational viewport. The Patrol Fleet was giving hell to the Atlas forces which were responding in kind.

"Then let's make them suffer for what they've inflicted on us today. Fire the Dajev Cannon." The Dajev Cannon was the largest armament medium tier ships such as the battle cruiser could muster, only outclassed by the larger and more powerful plasma cannons of the Tagali Dreadnoughts and Capital Ships. A large ray of green plasma reached out from the Battlecruiser, making contact with the nearest Atlas Destroyer. Large chunks of its hulls were blown to bits, depressurizing many compartments. The beam stopped for a full minute, allowing the Battlecruiser to pick a new target. Hell was unleashed on the Atlas ships.