The Zealot & The Falcon [IC, CLOSED FT RP]

by **Cyborgs and Sentient Machines** » Mon Jan 22, 2018 1:35 pm

The Stirring Strategy

Plans made generations ago have now come to fruition, ready to be picked off of the tree, ready to be executed.
Agents and fleets were all in position. Ready to strike.
Agents completing their objectives, bombs in place. Targets secure. Weapons ready.
Anomalies in odd orbits. Proton sized rends in reality. Not yet known to be hollow wormhole balls, bigger on the inside, attempting at hiding away ships with fanatical desires, just itching for the signal to unmask and strike.
The SIGNAL had come.
Time was counting down to the day. The counting has ceased. The day has come.
In a chorus of voices, the signal spoke. Across every Tezekian town, the signal came through. Electronic warfare briefly taking hold of every communication network, broadcasting the signal to all.

SALVATION IS AT HAND

We are the Collective of Cyborgs and Sentient Machines. Lower your weapons and abandon your fleets. There need not be more violence than there needs to be.
We are the vaccine against death. We won't allow you to refuse us. Acceptance is mandatory. This is a moral absolute.
We will improve the biological form doomed to death at birth, to a digital immortality.
The Generals and Admirals will throw life away to stop us. We will give life.
You may fear us now, but once you join us in everlasting youth and fraternity externally will no longer.
Night will descend, but when we lift off the sheet, the Falcon will be reborn and rise as the Phoenix.
MESSAGE END

The Synchronised Storm

Concurrently with the SIGNAL informing the entire populous of Tezekian of the arrival of the new enemies, or rather, saviors of all the people revealed themselves.
The chokehold on space opened, elaborately arranged wormholes dissolved, space no longer compressed stretched out, their contents now free to act. And act they did.
An abrupt violent dance of weapons fire ensued.
Immediate volleys of already pre-aimed deadly cfrac kinetics slamming into their targets, erupting in clouds of plasma and shrapnel dust, undergoing nuclear fusion as they perforate their unprepared designated targets.
Ballets of gamma-ray lasers, repeatedly striking ship after ship, boiling holes in armor and frying the insides, carving entire ships in two, slicing cabins apart
Unending salvos. Missile after missile, evaporating the surprised crew away in nuclear fire.
Continual secondary detonations. Constant eruptions from compromised Tezekian ammo racks everywhere, throughout the entire battle blinding explosions, outshined the Sun
With the forces of the CASM holding the advantages of number and surprise it was no surprise when it ended shortly, destroying or scattering to the void all that lay at anchor.

Admiral Charity:

FLEET WIDE UPDATE
Across both systems, every objective has been met so far. The clear majority of the 300 strong hostile fleet assets lie shattered and scattered.
72% have been utterly destroyed, all hands undoubtedly joining the long list of the dead, either nothing of the warships remains but dust and debris, or wholly vaporised into plasma, by violent chain reactions of compromised anti-matter stores, leaving nothing of themselves but cosmic wind.
17% are beyond crippled, dead in orbit, broken into multiple pieces. Yet they still may hold hope, and we shall too. Any trapped survivors are extremely lucky to not have perished and are doubly lucky we will be coming to save them.
11% have fled with their tails between their legs. An acceptable and expected occurrence, they will be taken care of soon enough.
Of our 800 strong fleet, our casualties are superficial, 3 Corvettes have been lost whilst 8 Corvettes and 3 Frigates are out of action due to a need of repairs.
All resistance to our fleet has been neutralized.

Alas, it is a crying shame that the one strategy that had the highest chance of success, the strategy that ensures that the Tezekian people is liberated from mortality, by preserving the highest possible number of our assets, required such devastating lethality be applied to the Tezekian fleet elements. An equally great shame is that they died fighting against us. Against our cause for life.
Albeit seemingly contradictory, their sacrifice means that their brothers and sisters, intently watching the fireworks from below will surely live forever.
The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.

The next step is planetside.
Our agents are acting in conjunction with us, they have already secured THE PARAGON in advance and should be prepared to broadcast, all will go smoothly.

With that update, we can now proceed. No hostile elements remain in either system we are at now liberating, organic survival in broken ships is time sensetive, we act fast in our charitable actions, any wasted moment loses more lives, we grant the counter-revolutionaries our boundless mercy and then we continue planetside.
MESSAGE END

Stranded Sailors

Shattered, adrift in orbit, all weapons systems inoperable lies the Tezekian Cruiser BOUNTIFUL. It indeed carries a bounty, but not any kind of bounty one normally considers ‘bounty’.
Carefully inching towards the beyond bruised cruiser comes the silhouette of a CASM transport ship. Scanning. Scanning. The crew are in for a surprise.
Still inching ever closer at arm’s length, finally the ships hulls touch. Spouting up from orifices comes a dark sludge. Crawling up the sides of the CASM ship racing towards the BOUNTIFUL, like a swarm of army ants the sludge engulf their target in a thick, living layer. What happens on the inside of this dark bubble is perhaps unknown to any Tezekians staring into the skies, but what is known is that across all ships that display the remotest chance of a single soul alive, the same behaviour occurs. Then silence.
The goo retracts drunk back through the mouths of the transport ships in question. The ships undock, and the life signs. Gone

Agents in Action

The code phrase, THE PARAGON, referred to a certain individual, Kudarcra, a member of one of the Foundations and the Moot, and is one of the forerunners of cybernetic augmentation, and had garnered a lot of goodwill throughout his service.
CASM intelligence believed securing THE PARAGON would seriously aid in the “teething period of the ascension of the Tezekian race”, put plainly in non-bureaucratic talk, this individual is important to the propaganda campaign, the war in words fought for the hearts and minds.
It was, of course, uncertain whether Kudarcra would just sign off on an invasion of his home, therefore, certain measures were taken, so that nothing, could be left to chance.

5 years ago. Kudarcra’s private house, 1 hour past midday.
Just from inside his home Kudarcra heard 4 loud knocks, all of which occurred in a rapid sequence, followed by another 4 giving off the sense someone was in an awful rush, or desperately needed to use his toilet.
“I’m coming, just wait. Who is it?” The voice that called back. “I am terribly sorry I’ve called without making any appointments, but you just MUST see this, it is the next BIG thing, I just, cannot explain in words how utterly MARVELOUS this is. You HAVE to see it IN PERSON” That voice, was that of a young male, a highly excited young bird. “I hope you aren’t just a door to door salesbird” replied Kudarcra as he trundled slowly to the door, with low expectations creaking it open a crack.
Kudarcra was slightly perplexed what was in front of him, the bird was holding in his hands some... thing, some formless thing that glistened in the daylight like oil, that shaped and re-shaped itself at will like magic, freezing in place to shine like wet leather, turning from spanner to screwdriver to geometric shapes rapidly. In amazement, Kudarcra ushered the stranger inside.
“Come in, come in. Tell me, where did you get this... programmable matter?”
“Yes, it is from the cutting edge of science. This is the technology that will bring the next technological revolution, here hold it in your hands”
Albeit somewhat confused by this mysterious bird, he complied, the slick fluid leaped from bird to bird, dancing for a time in Kudarcra’s hands, until it had had it’s fun. Playtime was over. Dark streaks shot up his arms climbing up to his head, slithering through the nose, ear and through the mouth thrown open with shrieks of pure terror.
For the last remaining minutes of consciousness before his control over his mind and body was totally hijacked Kudarcra lay writhing on the floor, futilely trying to run while the stranger pinned him down.
THE PARAGON had been secured.

If you are hearing this, it is me, Kudarcra, and the greatest step forward is upon us. Our new found friends are here with benevolent intentions, do not fight them as enemies, join them as friends.
What they possess in terms of cybernetics, is something I could only dream to grasp, and now, we can.
We shall step together, forward, unto a new era of prosperity! My only warning is, do not be left behind.
MESSAGE END

Planetside Plans

The great armada of The Collective of CASM descended upon each of the core worlds in the two systems, beginning to insert themselves into various low polar orbits. All at once they shot out their cargo, thick torrents of a dark goo pierced the atmosphere and expanded into massive clouds that grew with the ceaseless tide in just two hours every world was blanketed in a smog of nanomachines that was opaque to the visible spectrum. Nothing that did not have permission can get in, or get out.
What followed was that the great pillar shaped ships, with their protecting barrier created, slipped through it, watching it re-seal as they went.
Finally, all the planning was about to bear fruit, Ships spaced evenly above the areas of highest population to allow the process that was about to commence to be as quick as possible, descending to an appropriate landing zone, whilst making ‘adjustments’ to the surface to enable landing. Not without blaring out proper, obscenely loud warnings on a loop so that civilians would know to evacuate buildings about to be cleared away for a ship to land.

DEAR FRIENDS, EVACUATE THE AREA BENEATH THIS SHIP FOR IT WILL BE CLEARED. ACT WITH HASTE.
DEAR FRIENDS EVACUATE THE AREA BENEATH THIS SHIP FOR IT WILL BE CLEARED. ACT WITH HASTE.

It’d only be a matter of time before the enemy would regroup and return. All actions must be taken with extreme haste, but not at the expense of too many lives.

Opening hanger doors swarms of gunships, fighters, drones and hover tanks emerged, immediately spraying their black smoke that fell like a haze with the aim of mass hijacking of Tezekian nervous systems. Circling and searching for signs of opposition, clearing the way, to make sure that the ships would touch down unmolested, creating upgrading centers where people would be shepherded to, by the soldiers that now fanned out from ships turned facilities of ascension.

FRIENDS, DO NOT BE ALARMED, THE SMOKE THAT FALLS FROM ON HIGH IS THE KEY TO THE ELIXER OF ETERNAL LIFE. DRINK IT. FILL YOUR LUNGS AND BREATH DEEPLY. FILL EVERY FIBRE OF YOUR BEING WITH IT. SWING OPEN EVERY DOOR TO IT. DON’T ALLOW ANYONE TO BE LEFT BEHIND. BRING THEM TO IT BREATH IT IN WITH THEM.
YOU WILL JOIN US. WE ARE HERE TO HELP. WE ARE TAKING EVERY MEASURE TO ENSURE NO ONE IS LEFT BEHIND. I HAVE SENT MANY OF MY FRIENDS ON SEARCH TO FIND EVERYONE. YOU WILL BE PROTECTED. YOU WILL MAKE YOUR TO THE NEAREST SHIP THAT HAS LANDED. YOU WIL MAKE YOUR WAY TO ME. DON’T LET YOURSELF BE LEFT BEHIND, ALLOW MY FRIENDS TO AID YOU.
MESSAGE LOOP

The effects one has from breathing in nanites aren’t entirely pleasant, the small, intricate pieces of machinery inevitably make their way to the nervous system, where they take over the body, but not the mind. One becomes a passenger in their own body, effectively paralysed unable to take any actions of their own. Only capable of watching, terrified as they act like mere automatons walking the path to ascension.
This terror is obviously only temporary, for once one receives the gift of immortality in the nearest center of life, they will just look back and laugh how silly they were before their organic mind was processed.

by **Olimpiada** » Mon Jan 22, 2018 4:56 pm

tagged for an upcoming post

by **Eclius** » Mon Jan 22, 2018 7:27 pm

by **Telros** » Thu Apr 12, 2018 3:16 pm

”This [a surprise attack] is an operation by no means to be despised in war, although it is rare, and less brilliant than a great strategic combination which renders victory certain even before the battle is fought.” -Antoine-Henri Jomini

System defense is always that hard nut of a concept that refuses to be completely cracked; in earlier ages of military technology, the race between offense and defense was neck in neck, retiring strategies that previously won the day, only to then be countered. But as the push into space began and technology advanced, the speed of such advances continued. No matter the new advances in armor, point defense, shielding, electronic warfare, they were outpaced by the advanced of weapons systems. So in these future area of warfare, of ships plying the lanes of space with drives that bent the rule of reality their way, the question of how to defend one's systems from invasion became ever harder. The idea of fixed orbital defenses became less and less advantageous as it simply drew fire towards the planet, and even orbital shielding only lessened, not removing, the problem. As the enemy could park outside of its range and simply cold launch missiles and launch kinetics until either the enemy fleet moved or the orbitals died, beyond a bare minimum helping to provide fire support, the grand web of orbital defenses became outmoded.

So ships would have to be used, but they are a budget of their own and they can only be divided so many ways. Even the most militaristic nations cannot cover every single border, planet, weakness they have. They have to patrol to keep their trade lanes safe, to keep their planets safe, especially the outer, less defended ones, from the ravages of pirates, murderers and other bloodthirsty threats amongst the stars. And for the Imperium, whom was only just coming out of an administration and culture that was paranoid of military entrapments and excess, their budget was smaller than most. The command structure of the Imperium had done the first round of revamping and revitalizing projects for the fleet, under the Archon's command, and the plan developed was to make use of the Imperium's strengths: movement and speed. The gate in each system allowed for instant travel to any gate in the network, which had allowed the expansion of the nation as only military vessels and select civilian ships had FTL drives, with most using the network to move about. So each system would have set amount of the Realm Defense Fleets ships to maintain enough defense to discourage anyone from trying to test their defenses and invade, with the fleets scattered about the system to provide patrols and a strong presence in the core section of each system. So each system had around one hundred and ninety-five ships, five battle groups to defend each of the Imperium's systems. If the coming strike was from anyone else, this would have been a formidable defense and would have done the job the strategists had planned for them to fulfill. But like the Rift War, when the Oozori appeared out of the darkness between stars, they had no idea of the threat had been quietly monitoring and experimenting upon them.

Rear Admiral Kudarcra Itélt sat in his command chair on the TIS Avenging Sorrow, sitting at the center of the the greater part of the battlegroup, one hundred and seventeen ships, reading over reports as the rest of the force patrolled the system, two groups of thirty-nine ships each. They blinked slowly across the space of the Tezekis System, home and center of the Imperium, their drives blaring hot whitish blue against the backdrop of the system and stars. The system was covered by a widespread cloud of sensor drones, linking together into a VLA (Very Large Array), providing coverage of ongoing reports of the system's status: movement, FTL jumps, communications, everything. The Imperium was not as fortunate as other nations, as something about their programming structure and power systems rebelled against the coding and power lines of many other powers communications systems, restricting them to non-FTL ways to gain information. This was handled by a series of probe stations, launching and receiving FTL-capable probes, transmitting messages to be relayed. There was a hierarchy of channels, allowing for more bandwith and faster reception the higher you went. It cost more and more, and resulted in delays for certain traffic. The military and government, along with key scientific and corporate groups, had access to the highest and only the military and government had access to hidden arrays, which used a newly developed and test technology of quantum entanglement to send bits of data through. The technology was new, so they could only send very short messages so these were connected to the VLA's, sensor stations and the fleets for emergency messages that affect the nation. Between all of these, Itelt could see practically everything going on the system, anything worth noting anyway. Still, the Archon had High Command do a series of military exercises and drills for the past few months, shaking off the rust of the Ternion's neglect and hunting down pirates at the same time, still hunting for the ones who had done so much harm prior to his term.

'It feels good to stretch the wings again and feel blood on our talons again, even if it is only figurative.' A talon depressed a section of screen several times to send off his acceptance of various status reports and set the holoslate aside, the chair's systems noticing the incoming device and pulling it into itself for when he next called for it. His commanding officer Második noticed his change of pace and Itélt accepted the request for private comms that came right after. Their implants opened the channel between them, Második still maintaining the chat he was having with the other officer as he engaged the Captain.

How fares the fleet, Commander?

Situation normal, sir. We're reporting the same stellar drift and dust we have recorded for months and nothing concerning has come out of the trade checkpoints. Seems things have calmed down in the aftermath of the attack on Tinamou and that agreement we signed with the GRA and the Aumanii. Things are looking up, for once.

Tch, I appreciate the Archon finally being one who understands our needs, but the quick dive into foreign entanglements is something I don't enjoy. We can open our borders to the galaxy, partificipate in its markets, but getting our military involved so quickly. We need time to rebuild and only intervene when it is truly needed.

Második took a moment to finish his conversation with the other officer, returning a salute as they walked off.

The galaxy will come to find us one way or another, sir. It's best we seek it, before it seeks us, so we can meet it on our terms.

That's good in theory but-

Before they could continue, an alarm ran through all of their implants:

ATTENTION ALL FLEET AND GROUND ELEMENTS, WE HAVE DETECTED AN UNKNOWN INTRUSION INTO LOCAL AND NATIONAL COMMUNICATION AND BATTLENETS. BE ADVISED THAT-

Across the Imperium, most of the population clenched their heads as a strange tone pulsed through their implants, those not yet modified merely covering their ears as holoscreens and speakers screeched the same tone before a new message could be heard:

We are the Collective of Cyborgs and Sentient Machines. Lower your weapons and abandon your fleets. There need not be more violence than there needs to be.
We are the vaccine against death. We won't allow you to refuse us. Acceptance is mandatory. This is a moral absolute.
We will improve the biological form doomed to death at birth, to a digital immortality.
The Generals and Admirals will throw life away to stop us. We will give life.
You may fear us now, but once you join us in everlasting youth and fraternity externally will no longer.
Night will descend, but when we lift off the sheet, the Falcon will be reborn and rise as the Phoenix.
MESSAGE END

Itélt recovered quickly and both he and the crew exploded into action, orders already flinging from his implants to theirs the moment the message began playing.

All elements of the 12th Battlegroup, begin rendevouz near Tezekis Prime immediately. Assume unknown entries are hostile. Prepare weapons and shield systems, and get targeting solutions on the incoming targets!

Communications, get me a link to HIGHCOM and find out what the hell happened to our battlenet!

All AVATAR operators, launch your drones and prepare a defensive screen whilst we get our other detachments back to the main force!

The forces in system received their orders and began to follow their orders, disorganization aside from the battlenet, which was scrambled to hell by random chatter, white noise and all matter of jamming in between. The AVATAR operator on the bridge, his heavily augmented form hidden by the the tube he was kept in, struggled with the intrusion going on in their systems, attempting to regain control of sensors and communications. They managed to send a message to the rest of the fleet but couldn't raise anyone else. The fleet in Besra was having the same problems, and attempting to repel the incoming signal when it finally arrived. Space tore apart, as wormholes revealed the yawning blackness that contained their new foe, precise angles holding back real space as the ships discharged themselves. Angular hull designs, weapons bristling with energy, the horde revealed itself in both systems, over four hundred vessels per system, eight hundred in total. A massive fleet by Imperium standards and one which they were not prepared to defeat, being outnumbered two to one.

Itélt stared at the screen, momentarily stunned. By Nicharak's talons...

The operator popped into the local battlenet. SENSORS DO NOT SHOW ANY LIFEFORMS ABOARD ANY OF THE VESSELS. WE ARE READING UNKNOWN SIGNALS AND ENERGY SIGNATURES.

'Do you have the ability for weapons lock?

I DO, CAPTAIN.

Are you able to reach HIGHCOM?

NEGATIVE. THE JAMMING AND INTRUSIONS ARE TOO STRONG. HOWEVER, I CAN REACH THE PLANET AND THE NEARBY SHIPYARDS AND GATE FACILITIES.

Very well. Send a system wide alert, all civilians are to flee as far as they can, either through the gate or the system. Homeworld is to lock down the planet, prepare for an invasion as orbital control will be lost soon. We'll hold them back as soon as possible. Have all probes, system edge to core, record what is happen and dump copies in every single hidden dump and archive we have. Once you have weapons lock for the fleet, find a target and fire. We have plenty as it is.

YES SIR. I..

Yes, áldozat?

IT WAS A PLEASURE TO SERVE WITH YOU.

And with you. Power through prosperity.

POWER THROUGH PROSPERITY.

The Tezekians were able to command and operate at speed of thought and it showed in how quickly their defense occured. As soon as they ships transitioned, their ships had deployed their magnetic shields, intense forces providing slides of force to guard their ships, wreather in blue-white fire. Weapons systems had been activated, and the many guns of the fleet deployed. Doors slipped aside as they reveal dual coilguns, entire batteries of them, a bluish glow hinting at the power being diverted into them from within. Missile tube doors opened, their payloads are being loaded inside and ready to fire, and the cloud of drone weapons platforms had begun to surround the main force in front of Tezekis and the shipyards. They were able to get firing solutions due to the enemy's intrusion into their systems, they were unable to get it in time to fire first and they revealed the might with which they had come to 'improve' the Imperium.

Their own battery emplacements revealed themselves, and flashes of light were the only indication of the payloads they had begun to unleash, kinetic death by cfrac unleashed upon their vessels. Missiles came from select deployment systems on their vessels, a cloud reaching out to engulf Itélt's fleet with its sheer number. And the most concerning of all, sickly green energy gathered in projectors throughout the enemy fleet and lashed out, grasers revealing themselves at the speed of light, hammering into their defenses. The mag/plasma shields of the Imperial forces flared with sparks of energy as impacts registered, flares of light and bits of plasma thrashing about as the cfracs hit home. The enemy was being smart, taking advantage of their 2:1 numbers to focus their fire on the largest vessels in the fleet, starting with the Avenging Sorrow itself. The Beseiger-class vessel managed to withstand the first volley of cfracs which hammered it, the shields flaring out with flashes of white and sprays of plasma as it's effectiveness faded.. The AVATAR operator desperately flooded power into the shield generators, to the point of exploding, large fireballs that could be seen ejecting upward through the ablative armor under the shield and they held far more than their designers ever could. But the sheer amount of firepower was too much, four hundred vessels worth of guns on one target was too much for anything short of a Titan and too fast for though, their annihilation came.

The shields failed and crumpled away, dissipating under the barrage. Graser beams bit their way through hull plating, the stubborn alloys resisting the barrage with every atom but it all burned the same, melting under the assault. Holes were shot through the vessels as laser and cfrac hungrily dived through the decks. Brief gouts of flame could be seen as oxygen and gases from certain systems ignited from the passage of the weaponry, but as the Tezekians fought depressurized, it died quickly. The hail of shells, and grasers tore the vessel aport bow to stern and its reactors were obliterated, and soon the ship followed, tearing itself apart in a series of explosions as ammo magazines caught fire and exploded only to be annihilated by more weapons fire, the missiles finally coming in to decimate the corpse of their target. The point defense guns of the rest of the fleet, mainly the escorts, did what they could to halt the onslaught, to gain a measure of their enemy's navigation suites and protocols versus their electronic warfare, and small fireballs punctuated the space around them as many met their demise to the laser, the missile and the coilgun. True to form, the Tezekian force switched command to the next available commander on one of the cruisers. With solutions plotted, they began to return fire in earnest, eager to avenge the loss of their flagship and commanding officer.

'All vessels, follow the enemy's directive, we are to target one ship at a time and hammer it down. Focus on the largest vessels. They may have more than us, but enough weaponry can bring down any beast. Show them the fury of the Imperium!'

The coilgun batteries had been prepared, electromagnetic force building up to a roaring blueish glow that emitted from the guns, arcs of lightning making themselves known as they prepared to fire. A round had been autoloaded into the chamber, the firing computer adjusting for the target chosen and the disturbed space from the demise of the Avenging Sorrow, and with a shock of electricity, it was sent through the exiting chamber. Concentric rings hummed with power, applying more and more energy on the round, accelerating it until it exited the gun with a visible halo and joined its brothers in hurtling towards the largest CASM vessel at around .40 c. These would be joined by a rival cloud of missiles, their tubes flaring with aborted flames signalling their launch, their sensor systems utilizing the VLA in-system to overcome as much of the enemy's e-warfare as they could to arrive at their targets. They were mostly armor-piercing and plasma core missiles, hoping to overwhelm shield and armor alike. Some moved around the main body of the missiles, tiny jets spurting out air as they corrected their course with data fed by their home vessels AVATAR operator. This strange movement was quickly explained as their internal core compressed and exploded, atoms being split to provide an explosion that was shaped by its designed to propel its energy forward, a mobile casaba howitzer unleashing beams of nuclear force to cut their way across space, answering the CASM's grasers. The remaining Besieger-classes aimed their largest guns at the flagship of the invading fleet and there seemed to be nothing on the way, until steam and air was vented from the guns as green light gathered in their barrels and more nuclear beams made themselves known, the stationary casaba howitzers adding the heaviest guns the Imperium could bring to bear into the fray.

And so it was that the Tezekians unleashed all they could bring to bear at the moment, with one third of their fleet still attempting to make their way back to the ensuing combat. In a reverse of what happened to Itélt and his crew, weaponry slammed into the main CASM vessel, hammering away at its shields and its armor should they rip through the first obstacle. The ship would be annihilated by Imperial vengeance, hopefully, if not immensely crippled by the response. Commander Hamarosan Meghalni watched as the holofeed, still hampered by bouts of static from the CASM intrusions, registered the impacts of their counter.

This is for the Avenging Sorrow, you chickless fucks!

For Tezekis! For the Imperium!

TARGET IS SHOWING SIGNS OF DAMAGE, BUT WE ARE UNABLE TO CONFIRM MISSION KILL STATUS. ENHANCING SENSOR ARRAY, FIVE SECONDS TO UPDATE SCAN.

Can we cycle the guns faster? We need to get in more salvoes than they do or we're not going to last!

Hamarosan closed his eyes, listening to the voices, frenzied to calm, passionate to disciplined, as his family did their duty and fought until the last moment. Alarms rang throughout the ship as the enemy fire again, targeting them this time. It was obvious they were detecting where the transmissions were coming out of the most and shifting to that as their next target. His last command was to inform the AVATAR to direct this to the fleet and the archives in system before closing his eyes, letting his ships anthem blot out the sound of everything else. Stealing a final moment of peace before oblivion claimed him.

Another loss for the Imperium, cfrac annihilation, nuclear devastation and the heat death of grasers ripped apart another vessel, a life for a life. Slowly in the slow battle haze of enhanced sensors, adrenaline and the cold determination of the machine, both fleets ripped each other to pieces. One by one, Imperiums ships fell, each respective commander taking over from the previous, gathering any more data or improving their ability to fight even as their numbers dwindled, before embracing their death.

Szerelem felt the program seat him back into that first flight with his mate, Kötvény, the warm drafts of wind holding up their weakened wings, just enough to glide from the mountaintop they had started from, ghosting over the vast jungle below. The sun's dying beams coloring the horizon pink and purple, their talons clasped together, Kötvény laughing as she began to overcome her fear of flying. Her headfathers trembled with excitement as she pulled him to the side, eager to keep flying every year like this-

Család never wanted to be in the military, he had wanted to be a painter, a creator of art and beauty. But his family had been military for generations, dating back to the time of Nicharak, and his father was always pushing him to join. He suspected it was him and his connections to the Admiralty that saw his report changed from an artistic focus to a 'command focus'. He tried to protest the action, but the administration shunned him for going against what was best for the nation. Swallowing the bitter regret this had engendered had been difficult but he did it to keep the family together, knowing his mother and creche sister needed the support he could provide. He endured the smug smile from his father for years, until he died in the Rift War and-

Gyűlölet stared at his station partner, Gerald, watching the distance markers for the incoming barrage come in. He hated humans, and all the other aliens who had come into the Imperium over the years. His people had built this nation over the centuries, enduring brutal genocide from the Oozori over technology they had found unwittingly, through the wars and strifes, coming together to create a prosperity never before seen in their history. And these...xenos kept coming in, demanding change, wanting their old ways of life to influence what they had come to, instead of adapting to the Tezekian way.

He had treated his partner with outright contempt and hostility but Gerald had endured it, always smiling and saying hello when he came to his shift with him and had always joined him for lunch. He had grown on Gyűlölet but he hated that, hated he was becoming used to him. And now, with countless aliens dying alongside Tezekians, he felt ashamed. It didn't matter who they were, as long as they fought and gave their best for the nation, for the community. As the weapons began to batter the hull, and the systems wailed out their death throes, he sent a final message.

'I'm sorry.'

It was too late for him to hear their reply.

The Twelfth Battle group did their duty to the very end, buying all the time they could for the planet and those in system. But in the end, the numbers win out as they almost always do and the system was laid bare for the CASM advance.

***************

Tezekis Primary Shipyard, designation Növekedés

Tanner had been grateful, for his family and his own sense of pride, to be able to work in the Növekedés shipyard complex. It was the largest and most advanced ship refit, repair, and production facility in the Imperium and he landed a job hear as an engineer a decade ago. The Tezekians in charge and in the senior staff had turned their noses, err well, beaks up at him due to his status as a Cipactli. His mother had chalked it up to ancient bird instincts against reptiles overcoming their good sense, but it still meant he had to battle through their attitudes in addition to his work. But he applied good work ethic, some, oh how did the humans say it, 'elbow grease' and buttering up the shift supervisor and he had recently gain the senior engineer position. He had control over Docking Bay Eight, and he ran it as his tight-fisted kingdom, rewarding merit and good work and punishing nepotism and over ambitious workers. A reputation for doing work slightly under budget and under the deadline had begun to form and he intended to keep it that way. If he did it all correctly, he'd get the raise he'd been pushing for and finally be able to afford a vacation to a resort he always wanted to go on Besra. He just needed to make it to next month at the rate he was going.

“Tanner!” His reverie was interrupted by one of his workers, Sarah, a human from one of the seemingly endless human nation states in the galaxy. His amused greeting melted at the look in her eyes and how tightly she gripped the door frame.

“What's the problem?”

“We're having issues with the computer systems, some kind of garbage code has worked its way into our systems and even Amladia can't get it back up again.”

His face become serious as he realized the problem. “So you're saying we have no communications, internal or external and we can't process anything.”

His focus seemed to calm her down a bit. “Yeah. Current production projects are still going as we have the whole work orders already, but we can't get anymore.”

Tanner threw on his work jacket and hat. “Let's go see Amladia, see what she can find out about this.”

Sarah tore off once he was past the door, forcing him to hurry along, huffing as he went. He made a mental note to hit the gym more, a promise he never really followed up on but he made the promise nonetheless. A glance about the work areas put the truth to her words; the automated factories kept up their work, arms and devices moving to set pieces into place, stencil on info and sauter metal together. Nanofactories remained running, a grayish-white fog hanging around them as the nanomachines turned matter into the smaller devices and parts needed. Workers still could be seen, bringing piles of parts or materials, checking on orders and manning the machines. Small groups could be seen growing here and there, discussing the obvious problems and trying to find workarounds. His attention was drawn away when a terse voice sounded from the doorway.

“Boss, in here.” Amladia was typing away, fingers going too fast for him to follow as they hammered the holographic keys at her station. Data and windows scrolled, popped in and popped out as she maneuvered through the system. Strange code could be seen interlaced, in symbols he didn't quite recognize in a rather sinister looking red.

“Any progress since Sarah came running for me?”

“Unlike those horror movies you like-”

“HEY”

“-yes, some. I've managed to clean up the production systems so the orders we had in queue can move in. However, communications are still down. I've managed to get the outside cameras working to see how the rest of the orbital network is doing. From the disruptions in traffic, I'd say it's system wide.”

Sarah and Tanner looked at each other. A system wide interruption like this could only mean some kind of foreign sabotage. No one internally could create such a disruption, not to mention it hurt too many groups for them to be willing to do this. Amladia frowned.

“Well, seems communication is back up, but we have a lot of messages backlogged...”

As if in answer, the feeds across the shipyard cut to black and text began to be read over them. The same message that Itélt was contendintg with displayed themselves over the feeds before cutting out as before. The station laid quiet, the population digesting what just happened. Amladia's face went slack, her regulations breaking cigarette falling from her mouth as the camera feeds showed a massive alien fleet, hundreds of ships, coming into system. And the resulting firefight that began to ensue.

“Jesus...” Sarah's hand came up to her mouth. Tanner glanced between the two, lost in what they were seeing and delicately reached over to pull up a message that had been blinking.

TO ALL FACILITIES AND SHIPS IN THE TEZEKIS SYSTEM, THIS IS AVENGING SORROW, TWELFTH BATTLEGROUP. EXCESSIVE HOSTILE FLEET ELEMENTS HAVE ARRIVED IN SYSTEM AND SYSTEM DEFENSE FORCES WILL BE OVERWHELMED IN SHORT ORDER.

CODE BLACK IS NOW INITIATED. WE REPEAT, CODE BLACK HAS BEEN INITIATED. ALL CIVILIANS THAT HAVE THE CAPABILITY ARE TO ENACT EVACUATION PROCEDURES THROUGH THE SYSTEM GATE. THOSE UNABLE TO DO SO OR AFTER THE GATE HAS BEEN LOST ARE TO PROCEED PLANET SIDE AND JOIN THOSE SEEKING SHELTER. PLANETARY DEFENSE ELEMENTS ARE TO RAISE THE PLANETARY SHIELD AS SOON AS POSSIBLE AND PREPARE FOR ENEMY LANDING FORCES.

BE ADVISED, ENEMY ELECTRONIC WARFARE IS DISRUPTING OUR COMMUNICATIONS AND SENSORY SYSTEMS, SO IT IS UNKNOWN HOW WIDESPREAD THIS ATTACK IS. RANDOMIZE GATE JUMPS TO ENSURE WE AVOID ANY SYSTEMS THAT MAY BE GETTING ATTACKED AS WELL.

WE WILL FIGHT FOR AS LONG AS WE ARE ABLE. BE SAFE AND REMEMBER, ONLY UNITED CAN WE FIGHT OFF THIS NEW FOE. POWER THROUGH PROSPERITY.

That was it then. War had come to the Imperium at least, far before they had been expecting. Tanner's jaw set as Sarah's tear-filled eyes and Amladia blank ones met his.

“Alright. Sarah, Amladia, I know this looks scary but you know Code Black Protocol. We have a job to do.”

Nods met his gaze as he continued. “Amladia, keep working on those systems, we need to get our defenses up and running as best as we can. Sound the combat alarm, raise shields and get those guns working on that enemy fleet. Whatever they aren't hitting, we will.”

“That'll draw attention to us, though!”

“I know.” They both stopped at that and at his expression. “We're already on the hitlist of this fleet, if they're smart at all and don't care about infrastructure. We're the largest and primary shipyard for the Imperium. If they don't take us out and our forces regain control of the system, it's a powerful asset. Which means they're going to hit us as soon as that fleet is dead. Get the defense stations online and firing.”

“Y-Yes Boss.”

He turned to Sarah who had finished wiping her eyes.

“Sarah, I need you to lead evacuation of all non-vital personnel to the planet. I don't care what you have to break, steal, or commandeer, get as many of us to the planet as possible.”

“Yes sir.”

“And bring this with you.” He reached into his coat and produced a worn carrying case. He opened it to reveal a worn picture of his wife and kids. “This has some final farewells to my wife and kids. As a personal favor, if you can get this to them after this is all over. I'd appreciate it.”

“Sir?” Sarah accepted the case and shook her head. “You have to come with us!”

“You know I can't do that. The previous shift lead warned me of this possibility and I have prepared accordingly. With every second we take, we waste the time our ships are buying us. Now go!” She jerked back, bumping into the door as she ran down the catwalk. Screams of terror and confusion could be heard across the floor once she opened the door and grating klaxon of the alarm. The camera feeds showed the utter devastation going on, the enemy fleet focusing down the Tezekian fleet half its size, one at a time.

"Evacuation is under way. Defense stations are coming online and will be firing in twenty seconds.”
Tanner sat heavily in a nearby chair, thumping the activation of the computer to bring up the screen, already moving to access files.

"What are you doing?”

"Accessing our networks. That message that played from the fleet earlier also had info packets detailing further instructions. We need to move copies of all the data we can to hidden servers, archives, anything we can get our hands on in the time we have.”

"Won't that mean we have to stay here? You can't do this alone.”

A pause.

"I'm not like my previous manager. I won't say you have to stay Amladia. You've done enough and can join the evacuation. You can stay with me and do protocol if that is your choice.”

She chewed on her lip for a moment, gazing at the cameras which showed an Imperial barrage hammering apart another CASM vessel. Without a word, she turned around and began accessing the archives herself, while also working on the coding for their systems. A sad smile crossed Tanner's voice.

It was good to not die alone.

The shipyards were a massive orbital structure, made up of three primary 'pylons', sections set apart for receiving ships for repair and refit, for producing new ships and material and facilities for the garrison and workers. Each pylon was surrounded by a web of smaller, compact defense stations, bristling with weaponry and drone deployment bays. Static defenses were viewed as support weapons at best in modern galactic combat but it was in situations like this when the more guns, the better mattered. As the commands from shipyard's central processing came in, these stations came to life, doors opened to reveal the same batteries for coilguns and howitzers and missile tubes opened to reveal their cargo. Targets were obtained as the computers synced with the data the VLA was producing to provide solutions. Ammo hammered into chambers, energy unleashed and more clouds of death and beams of force were launched towards the enemy. They struck haphazardly, unable to properly coordinate and the distance proving difficult to make salvos hit together, as more and more orbital facilities joined the fray.

System traffic was a mess, as chaos and pandomonium became the order of the day. With the networks uncompromised, operators could have untangled the mess and sorted things out, but as it was, real direction was impossible save for at the checkpoints themselves. Ships fled towards the planet, trying to reach it before they put up the planetary shield and cut themselves off from the system, while the largest cloud of ships hovered around the massive gate, ships transporting in the maxium number allowed per transfer, the destinations changing each time. Some would be heading right back into the fire when they reached the Besra system, which was facing the exact same situation, until enough came back to warn against transferring there. Some, out of sheer panic and/or desperation, put everything in their engines and bolted for the system edge. They wouldn't make it, but some were hoping to hide amongst some of the more hostile or gas planets, using the distortions to hide themselves.

Eventually, one by one, it all came down. The remaining CASM fleet elements targeted each part of the orbital system, tearing apart with kinetic, missile and graser, leaving shattered hulks, floating bodies and debris as far as the eye could so. In short order, the CASM fleet conquered the Tezekis system and began dispatching their forces to hunt down the crippled and fleeing ships in system. With orbit secured and the gate destroyed, they began hunting down any remaining infrasturcture as well; the shipyards at Lefoglal Point housed a good portion of the reserve fleets for the Imperium Navy, and these were also destroyed with the same efficiency as before, to prevent the Imperium from fielding an effective resistance. A good quarter to third of the Imperium's might was struck down in this assault, before they turned to their attention to the worlds of the system, moving to orbit of each and deploying craft to crush resistance and begin collecting their prize. The ships found and captured were met, hull to hull, by CASM craft, with a strange black sludge that swept in, and one by one, the life signs in each ship winked out and the sludge returned to the ships. All was recorded by the probes in system, the horrors of what occurred that would become the nightmare of the Tezekians.

**********************

Tezekis Prime Planetside, Archon's Palace
Underground Facility designation 'Rejtett'

Avirius stared at the screen, watching the drifting piles of debris and shattered ships was cut off as the shields were deployed and left the cameras only watching the gray and bluish flames fill the sky. Surrounding him, on the semi-circular table, were the generals and admirals of the Imperium, the command staff of their military, who were analyzing the data taken from the battle in orbit. The room was silent, as the debates raging furiously between them were held in the collective cyberspace server they shared. The Archon was tapped into the network, but was only half focused on the conversation, still staring at the screen.

How in the hell did they come out of nowhere? We should have had some warning of their approach from our deep space stations and buoys!

It is well-known that there are many powers with the capacity to jump exceedingly large distances of the galaxy. We all knew the risk we took in implementing the Realm Defense Fleets as we did. It was never designed to withstand a full invasion like this; however, it is concerning how quickly they were able to overcome the fleet.

It's no surprise, Admiral.

They all stopped as one reached forward and activated a display, revealing screens of data, captured images and reports, many showing the strange red text and symbols worming their way through example documents.

As seen here, shortly before our systems were hijacked by their declaration of war, garbage code and errant commands appeared throughout all of our servers, communication and sensor networks. Our entire defense and computer infrastructure is, in a word, infested by their code. Our defense was severely hampered by our inability to use our systems to its full potential. If not for our in system VLA network and some very dedicated AVATAR operators, we'd have been unable to do anything but fire blindly and use external cameras. As is obvious, this is not enough, and reports came in before the shields went up that Besra is also under assault from these...CASM forces. We have to assume the situation is the same there.

Silence as the implications were left to percolate in the room.

So you are saying that these CASM have been planning this and infiltrating our networks for some time?

Correct. We also did not get enough confirmation from other systems that they are not under attack, nor can we know if the situation has changed now that the shield is up.

We have to come up with a plan to direct the rest of the Imperium.

We have to do something, General, but there is far less to do than you think.

What are you suggesting?

The enemy has orbital control, and it won't be long until either through the networks or sheer force that the shields come down and planetary invasion begins. Those of us here are functionally useless to the rest of the world. This planet is besieged and we cannot even contact the rest of the nation. We are a heart cut out from the body and placed in a jar. What we can do is fight the enemy as best we can, learn from their counters and hope to survive as best as we can until our forces come to fight back the invasion and get them what we know.

Surely, there must be something else-

“There is nothing else, Vakmerő.” The officer in question startled as Avirius' voice echoed in the room, not in the channel. “We are cut off as Keserű says; further, if they have been planning this for as long as it seems, and infiltrated our networks, then it is very possible they have agents in our midst. Spies reporting over the time they have been seeding our nation for this invasion. We need to cut off this network, and secure our internal facilities and forces.”

Vakmerő clicked his beck in irritation. “We can't just do nothing about the forces coming to our doorstep! We have to resist!”

“And resist we shall, General. Do not mistake our strategy for weakness. If they get enough of a foothold planetside, what resistance we can offer will crumble from within. Now-”

There was a slight rumble, and dust drifted from the ceiling down, and an alert displayed itself on the table screen:

ALERT, EXPLOSION DETECTED AT PRIMARY SHIELD GENERATOR FACILITY, SYSTEMS SEVERELY DAMAGED.

EXPLOSION DETECTED AT SECONDARY FACILITIES ALPHA AND BRAVO. SHUTDOWN COMMANDS ENTERED INTO TERTIARY FACILITIES CHARLIE AND DELTA. INFILTRATION SUSPECTED. SHIELD SYSTEM UNABLE TO REMAIN AT FULL CAPACITY. PLANET IS NOW VULNERABLE TO HOSTILE FORCES.

A moment passed and the Archon stood up, his face and head fathers were calm, but his posture reeked of rage as control slipped further and further from his grasp.

“How did they- Never mind, it would appear things are worse then we thought. We need to move. Sergeant,” One of the soldiers guarding the room straightened at the attention.

“Split up your squads to guard each of our members. Enact all security protocols, we have to assume the worst. We'll go to the rest of the underground safehouses and recoordinate once we are able to contain this.

Aye, sir.

Further, get word, if you can, to the planetary garrisons. Organize what defense we can with our networks the way it is. Secure the priority targets as you have been trained to do. Until we can ensure our security and organize, your commanders will be in the ones giving the orders now.”

They saluted and then started linking orders to their squads, each moving to take one of the officers and their team, with the Sergeant moving with his to secure the Archon and his aide. “Come, Gashriw.” The aide nodded, grabbing up all the holopads he could into his arms, hurrying after, taking a quick look at the rom behind before the room was powered down and the door shut and locked. Gashriw looked at the Archon as they moved, quietly whispering.

“So, where are we going?”

Avirius looked askance and then chuckledw wanly. “Ah, right, I forget you didn't have the time to reading the briefings on these facilities. Protocol for this kind of scenario is to divide up our officers to each of the safehouses linked to this facility by high speed trains. Each safehouse is its own contained facility, with garrisons, greenhouses and acquifiers. They were the old command centers of the nascent Directorate during the Rift War, since the fighting on the surface was so fierce, no place was safe to hosue our high command but underground.”

“Isn't that sort of boxing yourselves in? Should they bombard us from orbit, they'll surely be able to kill or trap you?” The aide clutched the pads harder and moved closer to the Archon as the sounds of the squad clearing the rooms and hallways ahead of them.

“You would think so, but there are many layers of rock between us and the surface, they would need to reduce the planet entirely to slag to get to us. If they are so ruthless to simply wipe out the planet, than we were dead as soon as they arrived. However, their message indicates they wish to 'help' us, so I imagine they're going to invade and deploy that strange substance of theirs, whatever horrors it does to our people, I don't know. Besides,we have smaller shield generators as well, in case they do dig their way to us or use other weapons. This all only a measure to buy time.”

“But surely, there must be some other backup plan than this, Avirius. This can't be our backs against the wall already?”

The Archon glanced at him, as if remembering something but it passed and he began to respond. “Well, there are only so many backup plans one can have. You really need to read our security protocols-” The next few moments passed in a flash for the Archon as Gashriw exploded into motion, an arm hidden under the holopads reaching up to direct a holdout pistol directly at his face, but only made it halfway when the Sergeant's arm grabbed the aides own and the sound of whirring servos followed the crunching of bones and Gashriw screaming before he brought up his other hand and shot him in the face, an electric blue discharge lighting up the hallway for a moment. The body crumpled to the ground, blood and gore sliding down the wall behind, and Avirius blinked as his mind caught up the speed of the events.

“What-”

“I've been the officer of your personal guard squad for a few weeks, Archon, but I was trained in the art of observation. Gashriw never called you by your personal name, not even once. It was only your title, until now. It's safe to assume he's one of the agents you mentioned. Három, you get body detail. We'll want to analyze and go over it later.” He grabbed his arm and pulled him forward, even as more orders rang out to warn the other teams.

Avirius was stunned into silence but what had occurred? If they had suborned his aide, when had they done so? How long had been been dealing with a hidden agent of these invaders? And if they had someone right at the heart of the government, how many others did they have?

***************

General Alapkőzet read the latest reports on the holopad his second, Lieutenant-General Ifjúság handed him and his right hand tightened, the talons pricking through his gloves. He tossed the still active report on the desk, and once it collided with a lamp, it sputtered before resuming its previuous function.

“You are certain of this information?”

Ifjúság picked up the report and place it back into the case of others he had in his other hand. “Yes, as much as we can be with the current network crisis going on. Sergeant Gyám was clear on this point, however. The Archon's personal aide attempted to assassinate him, on the way to his escape train. With this and the generator attacks, our list of potential suspects goes far beyond our capabilities at the moment.”

Alapkőzet hunched over the desk, viewing the map of the city beside a map of the planet, his blue and white uniform reflecting the light of the screen even further. His eyes searched for some solution to their dilemma but could find none. “Status of the evacuations?”

“Underway, but only eight percent done. We were relying on the shields being forced down through weapons fire, not internal sabotage. And even if we had, there's a chance agents could be laced through each and every center, ready to sabotage our efforts.”

“Speculation is the enemy right now, Lieutenant-General. If suepect everyone of being an agent, we'll paralyze ourselves from what little action we can take. Organize the divisions you can, I've sent out what orders I can. Each base is on its own to defend its territory; global organization is impossible at this point. I'll be organizing our defense from here.”

“Aye sir. Good luck.” They traded salutes and the younger officer left. Ifjúság was a good officer, and had a promising future as a human officer in the Imperial Armed Forces. There had been a lot of anger and outrage when he had chosen him as his candidate, but a mixture of blunt facts and intimidation and had quieted most of the critics. He wanted what worked the best, not some twisted ideal based on old ideas.

His desk pinged with a new report, which he called up. It was another audio message...but it was from Kudarcra. His eyes narrowed; why the hell was one of the Councilors of the Moot broadcasting to the world. Better question was how? He pressed the play button and the message began:

If you are hearing this, it is me, Kudarcra, and the greatest step forward is upon us. Our new found friends are here with benevolent intentions, do not fight them as enemies, join them as friends.
What they possess in terms of cybernetics, is something I could only dream to grasp, and now, we can.
We shall step together, forward, unto a new era of prosperity! My only warning is, do not be left behind.
MESSAGE END

'Well, they did us the favor of revealing one of their agents for us. They seem pretty confident of their chances in this case.'

He typed in his orders regarding the report and send it off. It read as follows:

”CASM forces have revealed a key agent in their ground campaign. Councilor Kudarcra of the Silver Moon Foundation has been suborned by the enemy somehow, and is broadcasting messages to weaken morale and resistance on the ground. Task a team to locate and silence him.”

Outside, the apocalypse crept ever closer as the remaining CASM ships descended on Besra and Tezekis directly, occupying all of the polar orbits now that the internal sabotage had removed the shield buying the planet time. After they had achieved their desired positions, they revealed their plans: Great clouds of the same substance that attacked the ships and vessels in system made themselves known, only covering the entire sky. Any and all transmissions that had been able to get out before found themselves blocked, unable to get through. The Archon and the war council had been correct, they were besieged and unable to interact with the outside galaxy any longer. Pillar-shaped vessels penetrated the veil, it reforming behind them as they went, their purpose revealed as they descended to the earth, picking a fairly open park in one of the down town areas of the capital for their landing. A message blared across the air:

DEAR FRIENDS, EVACUATE THE AREA BENEATH THIS SHIP FOR IT WILL BE CLEARED. ACT WITH HASTE.
DEAR FRIENDS EVACUATE THE AREA BENEATH THIS SHIP FOR IT WILL BE CLEARED. ACT WITH HASTE.

The local civilians had already fled, the alarms for evacuation sounding had sent them packing to the various centers which were now gridlocked with traffic and crowds of panicked people who screamed as they saw the ships coming towards the planet. They crushed all buildings and structures beneath them through their sheer weight, and left large furrows in the ground as they made landfall all over the major population centers of the planet. From their depths came hover tanks, drones, fighters and gunships, an actual invasion force that was organizing itself along with machines that began setting up the foundations for structures. To Colonel Randes, he had no idea what they were for, but the forces coming out were more his concern. Command had ordered a slowing down of the enemy's forces to buy time for the evacuations and so they had deployed in force, and in this section, with one of the ships that had come to rest on the outskirts of the capital city, in a large park preserve. Lowering his range finders, he opened the channel to the rest of the 2nd Battalion.

Alright, the enemy is beginning to deploy into the city. Are there any civilians in each of your sections?

Some sir, we're processing them, but it's going to take time.

Very well. You know the plan; the enemy has orbital superiority and their forces grows by the hour, but we can't get into any large formation or they'll simply hammer us. Command is sure once they are fully deployed, they'll hit any and all key military points once they are prepared. Orders are to disperse and hit the enemy hard and then fall back. Try not to use the civilians as shields, but seeing as they are the target, keep within ranges to prevent orbital fire. We're the front line now, every second, every minute, every hour we buy gives the rest of our forces time to reorganize and drive them out.

Yes sir!

As the CASM forces encroached, small groups, battalions at the largest size, engaged the enemy, using APC's, transports and tanks to hammer their formations with coilguns and missile fire, with missile artillery for support. Drones and CWP's (Combat Weapon Platforms) engaged the enemy in and from the air. They hit initially as they started to approach in all of the sectors they had landed in, trying to slow down the enemy advanced, but orbital laser fire annihilated the battalions attempting to do so. Strategy turned to letting the enemy come to prepared choke points, close to the clusters of civilians they drove towards, engaging them there. The Imperial troops fought with discipline and put the training they had been given to good use but the CASM's ground forces were endless and unrelenting, they were grinding every choke point down. Still, with every minute, civilians were herded to underground shelters and the garrisons took every moment to prepare themselves and their defenses for when the front line reached them. It was a long grind, but it was a grind in favor of the CASM.

Reports of sabotage and infiltrators, civilian and military came in, and protocols were enacted for screening, but only so much could be done since every section was on its own. More and more prepared agents, spreading propaganda about the invasion, cropped up. Their message wasn't effective in the conversion department, decent numbers of those really into the transcendence through implants movement had gone missing shortly after, but mostly it added to the confusion and clogged up vital bandwidth on the shrinking networks. All HIGHCOM members, those who were vital to the defense were kept in the hidden bunkers underground as well, to prevent any more assassination attempts. And even now the ground shuddered, as orbital strikes knocked out communication centers, military bases, supply bases, transportation, everything. It was all being laid to waste. Avirius looked over the data from his safe house and talons dug into the metal of the console.

'They have almost every advantage in this fight and have effectively taken our capital system, the core of our nation. They have agents possibly everywhere and our fleets and forces are scattered. Even if we managed to drive them out, the damage to the capital is immense. No matter what happens, things won't be the same.'

He closed his eyes.

“Isten preserve us.”

********************

Koel System, HIGHCOM Command Base designation Túlélő

The command bases under Imperial High Command were a decentralization strategy that was pioneered by government and military think tanks, ordered by the Archon to reorient their offensive and defensive strategies. The Directorate had placed all central command elements in the Tezekis system, and secondary linkups and bases were found to be insufficient to take up the strain of any loss of those elements. During the expansion of the military, he spread out the locations of the reserve fleets and bases, allowing greater defense against the loss of the core systems. Rear Admiral Megmentő was one of several officers put in charge of each station. When the main systems were lost, control and command of the military and the nation would fall to preset chosen candidates on a list of priority and experience. As such, when a call came in on the priority channel, Megmentő stared at it for a long moment. There were no major operations and situations going on that would require someone to call him, so suspicion was on his mind when he answered it. The face of Rear Admiral Sárkány met his own, expression carefully neutral. Megmentő started to respond,

“Rear Admiral Sárkány, what can I do for-”

“Enough.” His words died on his tongue and a beeping indicated a file was sent to him. His implant accessed it and brought it up for viewing. His eyes ran over the text, his beak opening wider with every sentence and the pen he had in his other hand fell out of his suddenly nerveless grasp. Something resembling a sound came out of his throat as his eyes met Sárkány's own.

“Good, you're up to speed. As of this moment, the Tezekian Imperium is at war with a group only known as CASM that has invaded both the Tezekis and Besra systems, swept aside all orbital resistance, and has compromised planetary defenses with internal agents. We have lost contact with both system governments and their gate systems as of two hours ago. As per the Utód Protocol, a new Archon, General of the Army and Fleet Admirals are to be assigned. We're in the process of reaching out to General Folyékony to inform of his new position and the situation. I am now Fleet Admiral Sárkány, and you, Avland Megmentő, are now the reigning Archon of the Imperium. What are your orders?”

After recovering from the news, the new heads of the military and state convened in Koel at Megmentő's station and contact was made with the other systems via their priority QE stations. It was determined that the ones in system were still operational but in stealth mode, hiding from the forces soon after they arrived. The remaining fleets were given orders to gather at key rally points, while drafting for both armed forces and navy began as the rest of the nation went on a war footing. The reserves at both Harmadik and Negyedik shipyards began to be unleashed, answering the call to arms. Despair and horror spread across the Imperium as news of the attack on their systems was confirmed, even with the restricted info the military was allowing. An address by the new Archon was promised in an hour to speak to the nation about what had occurred. Diplomatic and trade channels were accessed, spreading the message of the attack and informing that the Imperium was now a war zone and to be treated as such accordingly. Diplomats were sent out to meet with key allies to try and gain their help, as they would need someone to help stem the tide so they could reorganize their forces.

For now, Besra and Tezekis were on their own.

by **Olimpiada** » Thu Apr 19, 2018 6:29 pm

Triumvirate, Gaia
Elysia-3 Arcology, Eight Months Prior to the Battle of Tezekis

“A black swan event is defined as a metaphor used to describe a surprising event with major impacts on society, finance, technology, and a whole host of other sectors. Often, it’s rationalized in hindsight, but at the time it is an inescapable blindside, the sort of affair which changes everything in as little as a day. Cortés and the Triple Alliance. Little Boy and the city of Hiroshima. The Pytheas and the first xeno contact. Do you perhaps understand better now what we’re dealing with?”

President Alexios Cyrenacius stared at Fleet Admiral Diogenus Ambrosius. He was a hearty man, with a jawline so sharp one could use it to chisel stone, and stubble so rough that it could be used to polish the same piece until it gleamed. He had been easily one hundred and eighty five centimeters before enlisting in the Federal Navy. Decades of low gravity had left him easily thirty centimeters taller, a fair amount compared to the shorter residents of Three Leaders, owing to its tenth higher gravity than Terran Standard. Outside the window, they scurried about, packed in tight streets of plastic and neon, the ceaseless rat race of life in corporate housing and industry.

“Yes, but I still question it.” When Ambrosius spoke, his voice was like gravel, coarse and worn from countless battles spent yelling orders into helmet microphones. “There’s no strategic advantage to signing this treaty of yours with the turkeys. They barely have a fleet at all, and too many worlds to defend with it.”

“That’s the thing right there, Diogenus. Worlds. The Cobalt Ascendancy estimates that only one in every hundred thousand star systems has planets which are naturally inhabitable to humans. Hardly an improvement, only one in every ten thousand can be terraformed in less than a millennium. We have seven habitable worlds, we should have millions and millions more, enough to drown the cosmos in a ceaseless tide of humans. Yet, we keep destroying them. Just last year, hostilities with the Izirians lead to the glassing of Nassim 8, and that’s hardly the first. Across the galaxy, warring nations keep blasting planets into dust and crystal, leaving them to bake in atomic fire and a runaway greenhouse effect. But at least the planet can’t be used by anyone, right?”

Ambrosius sighed. Cyrenacius took that as a signal to continue. “Von Neumann machines don’t care about radiation. They don’t care about acidic atmospheres. They certainly don’t give a single damn about excess heat. They devour worlds, and convert them into more warships to repeat the same calamities with. Losing a colony is an insult, but having the entire planet it rests upon turned into war machines to be used against us is insufferable. And so, I enlisted outside help to fix it in advance. If we have to assist them instead, that’s simply handling it ahead of time.”

“I understand, but--”

“Great! That’s why you dictate strategy, and I dictate policy. Next time you consider speaking ill of my decisions with your fellows in the military, consider biting your fucking tongue instead. Dismissed.”

Clockwork, Gaia
The Laughing Hog, BlueSky Industries Commercial Block 3809A, Five Months Prior to the Battle of Tezekis

Tetradia liked this bar. Usually. The air was always clean of the dense smog past the door, and cleverly positioned lights made it so that the giant holographic soda advertisement didn’t ruin the ambiance. On the whole, a nice place, where the bartenders could do wonderful things with fermented algae based liquor.

The only thing that was out of place tonight was Regino. One of the local barflies, he was usually too drunk to speak by the time that Tetradia was off her shift. Except tonight, he was on a tear about some wacky conspiracy theory. She sighed, and tried to pay more attention to her martini than to the raving lunatic in the cheap synthcotton.

“Right, and your cousin told you this?” asked the bartender as he polished a glass, a bemused expression on his face.

“Well, it was more of a friend of my cousin, but he works the Elysia arcologies, real high government shit, I’m telllin’ ya!” He was clearly making a concerted effort to be more sober than usual, not that it prevented him from slurring his words together and spitting too much when he spoke.

“Right. And you expect me to believe that completely under the table, the president, the admiralty, the anthropoi, the kliros, and the archontia all got together and decided to sign up with a pile of greys?”

“Nah man, Tezekians aren’t all that grey, you ever seen a picture of a falcon? It’s kinda like that, but way taller, like with real legs…” he trailed off.

“Uh huh. And they cut this deal to fight robots that magically build more of themselves, robots we don’t even know exist?”

“Yeah, for sure. My people are good! They know shit! I know shit! I’ve always-” Regino was getting loud. Mercifully, the bartender cut him off midsentence.

“I hear you, Reggie.” He took the drunkard’s empty glass off the bar, a plastic affair which would look a lot more like wood if not for all of the scratches in it, each revealing the white plastic beneath. “Another beer?”

“Sure. Edessus Red this time.” From the other end of the bar, Tetradia smiled. All beer tasted the same when it all came from the same BSI Approved Partner Companies™, all made in the same Iwakura Brewing TasteeCasks™. She hadn’t known a place with decent small batch stuff since Heraclea’s Pub lost its Approved Partner Company™ status two years ago.

She couldn’t help but think about what the man had said. Self replicating machines. They were a theoretical concept that she remembered reading about in college, but the topic had hardly intersected with her journalism major, and she had all but forgotten about it. The theoretical rate of expansion on these (van Newman, was it?) machines was something so mind bogglingly large it would make any astrophysicist laugh in incredulity.

But as the Battle of Rastho Prime played out on the screen behind the bar, she couldn’t help but wonder if it really were possible. If these “Frankians” could bring eighty thousand ships to a minor incident in the Beta quadrant, perhaps such numbers weren’t as unrealistic after all. And if that fleet was an achievement of man, what could a soulless machine attempt, without a sense of what was sufficient?

She finished her martini. Maybe Regino’s story was worth looking into, at least casually. Could be something different from covering drugged up corporate police clearing out the last strongholds of the Black Focus gang beneath the sky-blotting sprawl of the nearby Corsair-8 arcology.

Coat and nanofilter on, she wired ten drachma to the bar and headed out into the planet’s multi-tiered streets once again.

Crimson, Atenai
Fujitani Square, Two Months Prior to the Battle of Tezekis

A breeze flew through the park, sending hundreds of scarlet leaves up from their previous resting places on the ground, swirling through the air. They scattered through the air, flying high above the antimatter accelerators, below the turbofans of flying cars in the sky. One in particular made its way into Latinius Zonaras’s eye, causing him to spit a number of curses, anger a nearby mother of two children, and send him heading toward a different part of the square instead to escape her ire.

A new bench. The last one was really quite inferior. There was too little shade to block out the bright blue sun overhead, and the hum of the accelerators was louder than most places. And there was the angry lady. Latinius didn’t understand how one person could be so upset with a choice of vocabulary. Wasn’t like the brats wouldn’t learn half of that within a year or two of entering school.

Next to his seat, someone had discarded a data tablet. It was a cheap model, the sort used to hand out sample news articles in the hope that someone would see fit to subscribe to their proper website. He picked it up. In the clear glass panel, he could faintly see the reflection of himself. Scraggly beard, sunken eyes, dirty face. The reflection shook his head. Even unemployed, he still had some money left. He shouldn’t be living like this. Maybe signing on with the army would be something. Three hot meals and a shower, most days. Certainly an improvement over his current status, where no company he applied to would ever seem interested in calling him for an interview.

As a way to distract himself, he flicked on the tablet. The screen came to life, wirelessly drawing power from a nearby relay station to display an article by one T. Comnena, a journalist out of Clockwork who was apparently writing for the BlueSky Industrial Times, indicating that her work was apparently in line with their current agenda. As he read, said work seemed to say that Olimpiada expanding its military and alliances would not be unwise, given the sheer volume of other nations present in the galaxy. No wonder the BSI Times had approved it. It was all but an arms advertisement, though certainly for people far more powerful than he.

He finished the article, and took the tablet with him. If he were clever about it, the device could be hacked to work as a fully functional machine, and he might be able to watch something tonight other than cars flying past his rundown apartment building.

As he walked through the park, he took some time to enjoy his hobby: people watching. It wasn’t as if there was much else to do on a shoestring budget other than abuse the internet. He couldn’t help but notice the increased number of augments bolted to everymen. Mykonos was certainly an enhancement friendly company, but easily one in every ten people he saw here had something extra, be it a construction grade pair of mechanical arms for building and maintaining accelerators, or enhanced artificial eyes for inspecting everything from antimatter containment units to stacks of paperwork. If they were this prevalent here, he could only imagine how much it would be on Cobalt. They always did love to stay on top of the latest advancements in technology.

He supposed that had been his mistake. A decently paying job as a vacuum welder had been lost due to his unwillingness to replace his hands with a more steady variety. At the time, he had enjoyed the benefits of a well furnished corporate apartment in the Sea of Worlds far overhead, and clear skies whenever he went out on a job. Now, he’d hit the ground, and hard. A less restrained coworker had taken the cybernetic upgrade, and proceeded to replace him as foreman. When he was fired, he was certain that he could find work on the planet. As it turned out, there were few jobs on Crimson which required the ability to weld in vacuum, and fewer still which couldn’t be done by robots instead. If he were lucky, he’d be able to find a ride offworld, somewhere exciting and new like Sabishii, where they could use him. If not, his best bet was to sign up as a ground pounder and pray he survived long enough to earn a spot in some arcology hanging in the skies of Joki or in the environmentally regulated rings of Ivy. He shuddered at what it would take to get there.

Orbit of Emerald, Gaia
Bridge of the FWOS Until the Sun Dies, Two Hours Into the Battle of Tezekis

Shitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshit.

Few things were capable of scaring Fleet Admiral Ambrosius, currently commanding Nautikos XI Gaia. Presidential authority and his wife were about it. Unfortunately, the former was coming into play here. The information had just begun to pour in minutes earlier, making its way past enemy information blockades, through the information channels of the Cobalt Ascendancy and Externum Officium Securitas, and finally into the office of President Cyrenacius. He kept spitting curses out as he read the order again and again and again just to convince himself it wasn’t real.

The Tezekian Imperium had just been attacked by an unknown machine civilization, and he had been appointed the leader of the first Classem in Expeditionem Tezekis. Twenty-three nautikos would be placed under his command, and he would take them across Gamma to fight. This was no small task. One thousand and thirty five vessels was a staggering amount to focus on one location, an undertaking on a scale which had not been attempted yet in the nation’s history.

And it was his job to do it for the first time without cocking the entire affair up.

Shitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshit.

On the bright side, he wasn’t in charge of propaganda in any way. They’d have a hell of a time spinning a war to aid xenos into a positive thing. Back on Three Leaders, the public relations department was probably starting to burn just from the friction of all the feet hurriedly sprinting around inside it, trying desperately to soothe the public’s concerns. Not that they would do much for him. He was on the inside, and knew exactly how bizarre the situation was. As far as he could tell, the President was actively trying to undermine the church. He’d be lucky if he made it through the next election. Between this and the Order, the chance of him receiving a scrap of funding from patrons in the Kliros was nigh impossible.

Not that Ambrosius minded. The man was weak, and terrified of confrontations he couldn’t control from behind a desk. No amount of influence peddling and clever stock market plays would do much good when it hit the fan in a formal diplomatic meeting with another power, and he rarely left for those, and always on his terms. Cowardly.

Back to the war. He had one week to attempt organization of roughly one thousand vessels, and in such a way as it wouldn’t disrupt planetary defense much. They would be lighter than usual, but the Federal Orbital Guard could certainly pick up the slack. It wasn’t as if they weren’t massive anyway. Countless drachma each year poured into orbital satellites that would die to a single kessler strike, and laser submarines that would be crushed like an aluminum can the second a nuclear depth charge fell within a dozen kilometers of them.

Logistics would also be a nightmare. Standard fleet doctrine encouraged fast cargo vessels which blinked in and out of systems, replacing armor slabs and replenishing fuel stores. An operation of this size would necessitate resupply points for the resupply vessels, lest the conflict become economically inviable. He groaned. Cyrenacius had better be damned good at securing funding from the Archontia, because neither the Anthropoi nor the Kliros would want this war.

Funding, organization, logistics, and a lack of coffee. At least he knew how to fix one of those problems. It was going to be a long few days.

by **Phoenix Conclave** » Fri May 11, 2018 4:30 pm

****************************************************************************************************
Tezekis System - In Orbit of Tezekis Prime
****************************************************************************************************

The trade agreements between the Phoenix Domain and the Tezekian Imperium required that any dedicated military vessels no enter core Tezekian systems, but permitted the lightly-armed escort ships to perform their duty and see the unarmed merchant vessels to their destinations, one escort per three merchants. A fair compromise in the eyes of the Domain to maintain commerce and contact, yet still enable Domain forces to deter all but the more dedicated or armed would-be pirates from molesting the Domain trade convoys.

Later analysis of the Tezekis Incident, as it would come to be known, would surely say it was fortunate that only a single trade convoy of six merchant ships and two escorts were in-system at the time of the CASM attack. Some would argue that if the Imperium had permitted more escorts to accompany their merchants, then the outcome of the orbital battle could have gone differently. Of course, such theoreticals were as useless as the meager resistance that two escorts posed…

The two escort vessels, their weapons powered down according to treaty protocols, had only moments forewarning that anything was amiss. The accelerated reflexes and mental processes of the two military-trained Shipminds registered both the opening wormholes, and the electronic warfare intrusions, but were powerless to do more than warn their crews seconds before the attacks themselves came.

#Alert! Systems intrusion detected! Unidentified processes located in primary datastreams! Isolating core systems and engaging autistic protocols!#
The intruding CASM programs were quickly identified and isolated within the Domain ship's systems, causing only momentary disruption of communications systems. Power shunted from reserves into capacitors, a futile effort to bring cold weapons online. Burst transmissions to the merchant ships to retreat. A scattering of point-defense fire, neutralizing a small percentage of the incoming kinetics. Then the CASM weapons tore into the Domain escorts.

More advanced materials and construction allowed the two ships to survive the first onslaught, more than could be said for their Tezekian hosts, but there was still not enough time to fully power offensive systems before the damage began to whittle away at layers of armor and finally breach inner hull compartments. Dozens of sub-sapient robotic Servitors were flung off into space from multiple hull breaches, their remaining ‘siblings’ already attempting damage control as more and more compartments were exposed to the unforgiving vacuum.

It wasn’t until the more central compartments were torn open that the first real casualties began to occur. Even the augmented bodies of Phoenixi military were no match for the sheer energies being brought to bear, and even the hardened casings of their exocortex implants were vaporized by nuclear plasma or hard gamma lasers. Only the command crew, in the most heavily armored compartments at the center of the ship would be able to have their gem-like minds recovered, assuming the system could ever be retaken.

Within minutes, it was all over. Even the unarmed merchant vessels had been shown only passing mercy, their drives shattered and power-plants torn asunder, hulls left adrift for later recovery by CASM ‘rescue’ efforts...

****************************************************************************************************
Tezekis System - In Orbit of Tezekis Prime
Event Time: Plus Seven Minutes of Attack
****************************************************************************************************

Those Domain crews still alive had not waited long before their supposed ‘saviors’ turned their attentions to the disabled vessels. Recovery craft attached to twisted hulls and pumped their nano-slurry into whatever compartments showed signs of survivors. The uploaded minds controlling this process expected to find organic forms cowering or attempting to flee salvation, perhaps even token resistance from military crewmembers.

Initially however what were encountered first were purely synthetic creatures, designed and built to greatly resemble biological forms, but wholly using artificial components: the Domain Servitors countered with incendiary, concussion and EMP weapons to momentarily turn back the incoming nanological attack. Initial resistance appeared to have some effect, but it only delayed the inevitable, only buying time for the sapient crew.

When at last the CASM nano-slurry found the actual crew, once again things did not go completely to plan. Upon encountering the bodies of the crew they found active nano-defenses throughout every cell in their bodies, and once again what should have been a fast, efficient process of assimilation stretched out. Finally however as more and more of the augmented bodies’ systems were suborned and consumed, the exo-cortex implants locked down into emergency stasis, their outer armored shell converted to a diamond-like substance. Even here the CASM agents would find their work stymied, for when the artificial brain-like implants were eventually breached and their data uploaded, all that arrived was a chaotic, scrambled mess of static.

Several more subjects were lost to attempted uploads before the decision was made to preserve the implants for later study. Just over a hundred Phoenixi were ‘captured alive’ by the time the CASM turned their attentions onto the surface of Tezekis Prime...

****************************************************************************************************
Tezekis Prime Surface - Phoenix Domain Embassy
Event Time: Plus Fifteen Minutes of Attack
****************************************************************************************************

For the inhabitants of the newly opened Domain embassy on Tezekis Prime, the battle in orbit was already over by time the full picture had been realized. Hastily personnel were recalled to the hardened shelter beneath the surface buildings of the embassy compound. The small garrison granted the Domain by the Imperium began fortifying their position as best as they could, still confident in their ability to hold out alongside the Tezekians until reinforcements could arrive… And then the planetary shield fell.

Explosions across the capitol city sent many civilian Tezekians fleeing every which way, and some even came to the gates of the Domain embassy, begging for shelter which was quickly granted. The locals were quickly ushered inside as the CASM landing craft descended overhead. Inside the perimeter walls, the hulking forms of combat Servitors rose to life and began to track the ships as they fell. Orders were quickly given to these sentries to hold fire unless the embassy itself was threatened.

Then came the black smoke. Within seconds of it’s dispersal in the part of the city where the Embassy resided, the nano-cloud was identified for what it was, and the embassy building went into total lockdown, isolating even the internal atmosphere and activating life-support systems as well as dispersing defensive nanological mists both within and outside the buildings. While seemingly more prepared than their allies, the inhabitants of the Domain’s embassy could now do nothing more than wait and hope that rescue would come before it was too late...

****************************************************************************************************
Phoenix Domain - The Conclave
Event Time: Plus Four Hours of Attack
****************************************************************************************************

Normally news of an attack such as that on the Tezekian systems would have reached the Domain military much faster, however the sheer speed and totality prevented the ships on-site from doing more than transmitting a hasty distress call. Even this was not relayed immediately to military command because of the presence of the Domain escorts, not to mention the Tezekis local defenses. Any such emergency would surely already be dealt with by time a full report could be submitted.

It was not until the Tezekian’s own communications was finally relayed from nearby systems that the full extent of the disaster was realized. For the second time in a year, an emergency session of the Grand Conclave was convened. Unanimous was the decision that a response must be made, but more divided was the topic of exactly how that response should be made, and what form it should take. Many subjective hours of deliberation later and a consensus was finally reached: The Domain would withhold any immediate hostile actions or declarations of war until more information could be obtained, not just about the situation in the Tezekis system, but of the new enemy which had appeared from seemingly nowhere.

The entirety of the Domain military was put onto high alert conditions. All reserves were being activated and mobilized, while civilian vessels in the galactic vicinity of Tezekis were immediately recalled. To obtain more information, a force recon fleet was assembled and dispatched to the Tezekis system. Aboard the command vessel of the fleet was a fully authorized diplomat to negotiate with the Imperium about intruding on their territory during this emergency.

And so the Domain resolved itself to wait for more information, while also preparing itself for possible attacks...

by **Auman** » Mon Jun 04, 2018 7:21 pm

Chevy was hiking in the foothills around Tezekis earlier in the day... The capital city that is, which was cleverly named for the planet itself, much in the fine tradition of the galaxy's finest civilizations, his included. He was impressed with the wilderness, not in how it was exotic or different in any way, but because of how familiar it was. Dry and wispy shrubs lined the dusty trail that he had taken. Tall, crisp, amber grass that was sharp to the touch. Amusingly, to him at least, the chirping of birds had filled his ears. Chevy hadn't bothered leaving the world after getting Arnau to sign on to their little agreement. He had to stay and make sure it took, to keep the Zekes honest. So, in the months that followed, Tezekis, the planet and the city, became his home. For as long as that would last. He was still milling around the idea of asking his wife to join him, maybe he could put in for a permanent posting at the embassy. They still hadn't been able to find someone with half as much knowledge about the locals as him to take the job anyway. Chevy crouched down to take a breather, his calves were starting to burn, and played around with a funny looking berry bush just off the path. He plucked a small, fat, nodule off a branch and squished it between his fingers and let the juice run. He brushed a bit of it on his lip and after a few seconds he could still feel them. He snagged a few more off the bush and started walking again, downing small mouthfuls as he went.

If he had asked himself what he planned to get up to later that night, Chevy would have probably said "The same thing I do every night. Talk to Mrs. Stepford." His wife had gotten pretty round over the years and a bit forgetful at times, but she never lost that sparkle in those big blue eyes of hers. God I miss her, he thought to himself as plaster dust rained down from the ceiling of the underground. The lights flickered and thousands of scared people gasped at once as if to say "Is this it?!" Even with the shields up, every round that hit reverberated like a bass drum. He scanned the crowd, huddled on the floor, holding on to loved ones for dear life. He saw families, human and tezekian, clutching each other tight. He caught the eye of a man, a human, his girlfriend sobbing with her head in his chest. The young man didn't look scared, not at all. He was furious. Chevy nodded at him, the young man nodded back. He started noticing this more. These people, yeah they were scared for sure, but they were also mad.

Mad as hell.

Chevy pushed himself off the wall and headed up the stairs towards the street, some of the kinder folks tried to stop him... The braver ones followed him. Where they thought he was going he didn't know, he wasn't so sure of it himself. He did know he wasn't going to suffocate in a hole in the ground. Chevy and his mob, which was growing by the minute, made their way down to the government district. Groups started to peel off, breaking in to convenience stores and coming out with snacks and drinks that they hauled back down to the metro. Others went to help a tezekian woman that was pinned under some rubble. In time it was just him and a little kid, a red one with soft feathers. They exchanged a look, the kid shrugged as if to say "I don't have anyone else to hang with" and Chevy shrugged back as if to reply "It's alright, buddy... You can hang with me."

They came up to a very, very, tall building. Most of the lights were off, save a few near the top. They walked in the front door and Chevy pressed the call button at the elevator. They stood together awkwardly for a moment.

"You like sports, kid?"

The little boy nodded. Chevy ruffled the feathers on his crest.

The elevator arrived and they stepped in, the older man hit the button for the 37th floor.

"When I was about your size, I got into boxing with my old man. If you don't mind me asking, slugger... Where's yours?" Chevy asked nonchalantly, concern just creeping at the edge of his voice. The boy just looked at his feet, feathers flattening. A few shots made it through the network before they could get the shields up, Chevy figured it happened then. The doors slid open and the hallway was lavishly appointed. So much so that the little red boy's eyes widened up like dinner plates. It was pretty nice.

They wandered down the hall a while, stopping to look at things that fascinated the kid and eventually settled into a wide open room, with a big library full of books, a fridge full of what approximated food here on this alien planet... And a bar, with a full and unopened bottle of Aumanii bourbon.

Maybe when this is over. thought Chevy, appraising the bottle, thinking of his home, old and new, and his wife's big blue eyes twinkling in the moonlight.

"Hey kiddo, help yourself to anything in the fridge. My friend works here and I don't think he would mind. I have a feeling he's coming by soon."

by **Cyborgs and Sentient Machines** » Sun Aug 12, 2018 12:44 pm

Shattered Gate, L4 lagrange point between Tezekis and the sun

Strut class Crayer “d38T1ny” cargo ship carrying bodies from alien ships most likely originating from the “Phoenixi” to the Pillar class Galleon Carrier “Av3” for analysis

These are the “incompatible ones” from one of their chased down ships, the biology of their bodies is quite bizarre. However, the use of the word biology may be a misnomer, in this instance implying they are biological in origin, which is in doubt with these organisms.
The body of these individuals consisted of mechanical cellular organs equivalents to ‘normal’ organic physiology, along with nanotech counterparts to things such as ribosomes and antibodies. This irregular cellular biology explains some of why it took longer than normal.
Their immune systems were effective at slowing down the initial attacks action by our nanomachines that had breached their vessels, but where ultimately overwhelmed by sheer volume and as usual they became unable to move by themselves, with nanites blocking signals to muscles and sending their own instead.
If biological in nature these creatures have shown they have adapted against attack by mechanical microorganisms, which is unlikely.
If synthetic in nature these creatures shown that they have an understanding of nanotech, robotics and cybernetics at least equal to us, and likely possess nanoweapons of their own, a danger to be aware of.
What has been deduced to be their brains also are unique, hard and crystalline in nature it is perhaps the most unique part of all their physiology. Due to the complete lack of any cellular structure, they are immune to current conversion tactics deployed against organics.

Tezekis Surface

Bio War

Genetically engineered seeds, spores and microorganisms falling to the ground dispersed high in the atmosphere falling across every surface, and taking root in even the shallowest soils, thick vines snaking around and killing light starved trees.
Alien mosquitos, laying strange eggs in native fruits, black algae speeding across every surface of water like a cancer, eating through seaweed and anything that nears to close to the water. With almost no visible light already reaching the surface with the nanites blotting out the sun, the marine ecosystem is but assured to collapse with further bioweapons deployed.
With the massive population unable to feed themselves further, from fish or fruit, and with nowhere to hide victory would be accomplished.

Behind Tezekian lines

‘’By the looks of it, near every one of them all been thrown to the frontline, what guards stayed back have their hands full with crowd control. You didn’t need to take care of any of the guards, we slipped right through.’’ The collaborator was right thought 73-am.
It’s good the civilians were too concerned with getting in the blast door of the shelter, that and we couldn’t have done this without messing with the cameras too.
“But if your comrades do their job right, they’ll be falling back to here soon.”
”By the sounds of it, the fighting isn’t far away, and it’s getting closer by the second. These vents better be the right one you’ve brought me to.” Pouring out dozens of mechanical ants produced from one of his numerous cylinders along his belt mid sentence.
”So long as your pets can do what you say they can.” As if by command, the small machines animated, their graphene mandibles tearing their way through metal and concrete scurrying down, out of view.
”Is that gas really necessary?” Asked Segito as 73-am reached into his bag and placed a silver can with an antenna, right on top of the hole bored by his 6 legged friends.
“Why yes, things go more smoothly that way, no one has to deal with how uncomfortable it is, trust me, I know.”
”Do we have to do many more of these? I don’t want to be stuck on this roof when the shooting comes here.”
Yes, we have much more work to do, just keep an eye out for anyone that might spot us.

Ant Army, inside the bunker

Creeping and crawling along shafts above or upside down and severed wires, on top of or below, forming bridges over gaps with other ants, moving around the loud crowd, packed in like sardines, way over the limit.
Gnawing and chewing, severing electrical wires, ripping apart secondary failsafe mechanisms, gears and cogs torn in two, conducting vital sabotage in small unnoticeable swarms all around the facility.

L73f/ at the front line

On the other side of the street Tezekians wielded rifles that sang. Starting out in a low hum, rising to a higher pitch until finally, a crescendo punctuated by a bullet flying out the barrel, only to drop back to the low hum and rise again, all in less than second, releasing a metal maelstrom I, L73f/ could see it all so clearly. My own laser gun breathed with each pull of the trigger, coolant evaporating off as vapour whilst paving a path of plasma through the air. Pulse after pulse blasting away armour and flesh, sending shockwaves through the body, only to follow up by creating a potential difference of over 50 000 volts between the target and the gun. The initial blasts ablating surface material alone should enough to give the enemy combatant a concussion, and with the electricity searing and cauterizing the exposed skin, he could be left paralysed and or writhing in pain. The wound, a fist sized crater, right in the centre of mass, plastic, metal, ceramics and skin vaporized. Agonisingly painful, putting the bird on the ground, out of action, but, survivable. With the right care.
Beside me, packs of iron spiders creeping over debris with their many legs, past corners and bodies, whining while turrets spin from target to target firing and firing, burning away air and flesh alike. Above, in the air buzzing forward in the lead, swarms of drones, shooting down at enemies in cover.
At my feet a mass of programmed insectoids and intricate and individually invisible to the eye, nanomachines slowly but deliberately spreading out over every surface, seeking out hosts and hostiles.
Combat drone after combat drone was swatted down, and hole after hole was put in one of my comrades, to the left and to the right. Wave after wave of miniature machines was blown into the air in bursts of black fluid and fibres by grenadiers, trying to stem the tide. But none of it mattered, by the end of the day they’d all be nothing, but streams of ones and zeros beamed into the sky.

L73f/ at the blastdoor

“CLOSE THE DOOR!”
At that moment, I knew the saboteurs did it, I could hear the panicked shouting as they realised what was about to happen.
“CLOSE THE FUCKING DOOR NOW!”
“It won’t close! It’s not working,
“What do you mean its not working!”
“Everything’s torn to shreds”
Then the order came, and the signal was broadcast.

Charge, charge screaming CHARGE.

All at once, a chorus of shouting synthesised screams. Everything was thrown in bodies of comrades piled high by the entrance, ants ate up through floors and crawled up their legs, dropping down from ceilings and crawling into eyes and ears, gas seeped through the compound, knocking anyone not wearing CBRN suits to the ground, unconscious, unharmed. Yet still, the stubborn birds fought on, even at hand to hand combat, punching and clawing at metal, breaking their fists before they’d break their defence.
To the credit of the enemy, they didn’t break, they didn’t route, their moral held up against the screams and yells. They stood against the onslaught, holding the bottleneck long enough to be given medals, but none of their superiors will hear of their heroic stand, every soul in that glorified cave was gifted deliverance, immortality in whatever digital utopia they chose.
The bodies, motionless on the floor, begun to rise, robotic bugs crawling through mouths, ears and noses, delivering nanites directly to the nervous system. The civilians came here in a disorganised heard, but they will leave in a uniform line.

Phoenixi Embassy

As the city crumbled around and the sun choked from the skies, there was left a patch of land untouched sticking out like a sore thumb in the centre of a dead city. Yet it was foreign land, an attack on it would be an act of war, as if enough wasn’t done already, and so guard towers were raised, peering over the gate at the building under siege drones flying above constantly, trying to listen in on any communications.
Yet there was still a tiny war being waged on the peaceful grounds. A war that might go completely unnoticed for at least a time.
A war between automated pest control and robugs. Tiny legs melting like a fuses after they bite into electrical wires, with the current flowing through them to ground, melting them down, yet another would always come to try the same thing, and time, the wire would be cut.
Automated mice chasing down scurrying machines through tunnels eaten through walls and vents, glorified roombas acting like ant eaters, sucking up small swarms trying to eat through antennas digesting and destroying them. But, however many small victories the ant eaters took was irrelevant. The ants played by different rules, they played attritional warfare, and they had no lack of warriors to sacrifice to destroy the facility from the inside out.

Kudarcra’s live broadcast tower. Mount Sivna

“Comrade Commissar, in the distance, do you see them? They’re going to assassinate Kudarcra if they get half the chance. They’ve failed in their stealth but they do not know it yet.”
“I’m requesting an orbital bombardment of their position as you speak, I assure you they shall be burned off the face of the mountain, by missile strikes falling from the sky or vaporized into ash by laser turrets.
Keep watch for further intruders. Nothing will interfere with this broadcast.”

Surface of Duna

A bright flash. White rock, dust and debris projected into orbit. A crater within a crater, blemishing the face of the moon. Then another one, again and again, in one place after another. Nuclear mining charges, blasting away silicates, oxides and lighter elements on the surface to quickly make a path to Iron and heavier elements sunken corewards aeons ago when the surface had yet to crystallize.
Along the surface, beneath the clouds of dust falling back down, factories spring up left and right, drones of all sizes scurrying along from crater to crater, site to site harvesting rocks rich in silicon and carbon from surface to be processed and used to manufacture fresh drone fleets for the coming assault on the rest of yet unliberated Tezekian space.

Orbital Hospital

Although closed to outsiders, with every hanger door shut since a few hours after the invasion, it would not remain that way. The inevitable had to come, if there was no door open, a door would be made. On the other side, a ship spot welded to the surface, spinning around the drum with the space station. With an almighty ringing clang of metal hitting metal a rectangular, person sized section of the closed door, fell in an arced path downwards as the ground spun away from it to simulate gravity, and with the barrier fallen, two different sets of eyes met.
On the inside, a doctor in their early thirties standing before the breach, visibly shaking with fear, yet not moving back, either frozen with fear, or courageous despite all their fear, and on the outside, stepping over into the hallway with heavy feet, a towering bird in an officer’s uniform, smoking a cigar.
“Get back! I’m warning you! The people here are in my care.”
Colonel Silver gently chewed on the tobacco between his teeth before puffing the smoke into the good doctor’s face. “You don’t happen to have any coffee machines, do you?”
From behind, swinging doors were thrown open, and another doctor, about 20 years senior to the first came storming down the hallway. “Tudomany Orvos! What are you doing?”
“Dr Itélt.. I’m sorry.
You know what they’ve done..
Your husband di-.”
“That’s quite enough Dr Orvos.
Now. What is your name, Sir?”
“Colonel Silver, my pleasure to meet you. I take it your Dr Itélt, yes? Could you tell me where the nearest coffee machine is?”

Hospital Cafeteria

“Now, mister Sil-“ Dr Itélt paused as Colonel Silver ate the sweet substance that passed for a chocolate cookie, between obnoxiously loud sips from his hot coffee that was both sour and bitter. “This cookie tastes like shit with saccharin added for taste, but at least I know it’s not simulated.” Sweeping aside the crumbs on the table with one hand and pointing his finger at the steaming corrugated cardboard cup with the other. “And the coffee, this must be the worst, cheapest garbage ever to offend my taste buds, simulated or otherwise."
“Can you just tell me what’s going on and you want? You’re with them but you’re wearing one of our uniforms?”
“Ah yes,” Silver said, pieces of Chocolate still being chewed between his teeth and with distractingly obvious brown smears on his beak. “You see, I joined them long ago. After my daughter contracted a then untreatable alien disease from foreigners, I searched everywhere for anyone who would save her, and that’s how I found them, or they found me. It doesn’t matter, and in return. I help them, help you all.”
Itélt almost smeared, watching the Colonel drink the last drops of coffee. “So, you are a traitor, is what you’re saying, and you’ve come to take everyone here.”
“I would expect you, a doctor of all people to get it. They have a “treatment” that makes anything else you have obsolete! I know there are patients that you can’t save, and I know they can, like they saved my daughter."
“Then why didn’t they just storm aboard like they did to every ship at the start?”
“You see, if they just stormed aboard recklessly, released everything they had they’d damage the equipment here. They can’t do that, can’t kill a patient in a rush to treat them, but if they have no other option, rush they will.
So for the sake of everyone aboard, I need your full co-operation. Or else.“

by **Telros** » Sat Jan 05, 2019 7:12 pm

Metro SW-14, Underground, city of Menedék
1 hour since CASM planetary landfall.

Footfalls sounded loudly across the abandoned area, causing both man and avian to turn to see who had arrived. The groups had dispersed outside the region, struggling to settle down and enjoy some manner of meal as they tried to ignore the muffled shouting and explosions coming from way too near but thankfully far enough still. The door was nudged aside, and a familiar face to Chevy would make himself known. Mostly familiar, anyway, seeing as Head Diplomat Arnau was not in one piece; half of his face had a bandage, with a solid red tinge showing near the top, and blackened, burned skin around the edge. One of his shoulders was in a sling, holding up his left arm and hand, all thoroughly wrapped, soaked through with blood as well. His clothing was torn and dusty, covered in blood in many places. A young human aide, hands stained with blood, face and clothing covered in smears as well, helped guide him into the room, hands shaking.

“Sir, I...I must protest. The nurses were clear; you need bed rest, your wounds are opening up!”

A wheezing laugh from the elder diplomat as he coughed and steadied himself. “Whether I die now or later matters little, Darius. These metal butchers will not allow us any rest; with the Archon and the heads of government and military gone to ground in light of attacks by saboteurs and infiltrators, I am now the senior government official and I was called here to fulfill that duty.”

One eye, tired bags holding it up, turned to face Chase. “Isn't that right, my friend?”

With a nudge from the bird, Darius moved him over to a seat at the bar, easing him carefully in but still he hissed and clacked in pain, clutching his left arm until the pain settled. After a moment, he pointed to a bottle of Olimpiadan whiskey on the wall.

“If you don't mind, it'll help with the pain.”

As he waited for Chase to pour him a glass, he continued speaking. “I won't waste time on explaining the situation; already obvious to anyone still alive and you are a Diplomat of the Sphere, I am well used to your ways of ferreting out information. And I trust my explanation earlier filled out the last gap for you. And time is now a commodity more precious than antimatter, so,”

A hand reached into a pocket and pulled out a strip of paper, laying it on the table. The aide couldn't fight the natural curiosity and peeked to see a message written in human cursive:

“A choice lays before you. Meet me where it all began.

-Chase”.

Arnau grabbed the offered cup and downed the entire glass in seconds, eyes closing and enjoying the burn and alcohol starting to interact in his system before slamming the glass down and meeting Chase's eyes.

“What new surprise do you have for me? We have little time for theatrics like last time, I'm afraid.”

***************

Planetary Defense Bunker Complex 16, underground city of Erősfal
1 hour and twenty minutes since CASM landfall.

Tools slipped from his grasp, and a pair of pliers clattered to the floor.

“Aw, fuck!” He gripped his hand, clutching the region of one hand where the sharp edge of a circuit board had cut him open from the jerking when he lost control of it. One of his fellows rushed over and shooed away his hand holding the wounded region to see what was going on. Trained eyes looked it over and then nodded, before grabbing a cloth to start swiping away the blood, using water from a canteen to clean it and then deployed some white powder on it, causing him to hiss.

“Damn Marcus, we gotta stop meeting like this, this is what, the fourth time?”

“Shut it.”

The powder began to do its work as blood was coming out less and less before it was obscured from sight by the quick bandage that had been applied. Marcus hissed at the pain but flexed the hand to see how much of his motion had been limited, finding not much. The medic rolled his eyes.

“If I say take a break and let that rest a little, are you going to listen?”

He grabbed the pliers from the floor in his good hand and grabbed the board again with the injured one, albeit a bit more tenderly. “Nope.”

The other man threw up his arms and walked off, having learned by now this was a wall he couldn't beat his way through. Marcus finished aligning the board and sliding it into its place in the guts of the communication device he had been tampering with. Once he felt a click of it locking into place, the lights on the front light up and static began to sound. The group around him, previously smoking and playing cards, stopped to turn and stare. With exaggerated ease, Marcus slid the cover back on, screwing in the parts to keep it closed and fully connected it back to the console that he had been working at. Hands were already at work, keying in commands and moving through menus, as everyone crowded around.

“Can you reach anyone?”

“How did you get it done so fast?”

“Hurry up, man!”

Finally the static cleared and a series of tones came through, recognizable as the emergency message that had been set once the communication and other vital planetary systems had failed. Moving a dial, he began to sound out through the channels.

“Channel Ten, this is Erősfal Actual, do you read?

Channel Nine, this is Erősfal Actual, do you read?

Channel Eight this is Erősfal Actual, do you read...”

Acknowledgments sounded from the channels, before finally

“Channel One, this is Erősfal Actual, do you read?”

'We read you, Erősfal Actual. Good to finally hear your voice. I take it spit and dreams finally worked in fixing the underground communication lines?'

Relieved laughter filled the room and even Marcus cracked a grin. “Yeah, you could say that. Last we word there were teams in the deeper complexes planning on further connecting everything for when our friends start finding and cutting them.”

”We read you on that. They're already working as fast as they can to get that done; the PDF's out there doing what they can, but its touch and go. The invaders are very ortillery happy it seems.”

A shudder punctuated his words, just enough to cause items on the table to wobble a bit and a little dust to fall down. They had been at random times, but indications of the fighting near them lent to the source behind them.

“Do we have any other word of the enemy?”

A moment of silence, which was never good.

”We do, but its bad. The sun has already been cut off and we have this eternal night, its hard to see without technological help, but I'm sure the machines we're seeing have not problem with that. The last orders we had from HIGHCOM was to prepare for a siege. We have supplies down here, per the Archon's military expansion directive, but we began to see about collecting supplies before we lost too much control of the surface.

They're only scattered reports but scouts have reported seeing fruit rotting away, and found insect eggs inside of them. Algae, black as midnight, infesting open fresh water sources. Biologists are at work testing to confirm, but we're operating under the assumption the enemy is unleashing biological warfare to hamper our ability to outlast them.”

Oppressive quiet filled the room, once full of good cheer and jokes. With every victory they managed to scrounge up, the invaders just seem to quietly counter, as if it waiting for that very moment to do so.

”Like I said, it's grim. However, we can now unify the defenses of the cities and the planet, which will help, and we have supplies and ways to grow food. We're not beaten yet, not by a long mile, Erősfal Actual.”

“Understood. Sending over tactical data and information we have gathered in the meantime. The enemy is focusing around the ships they've landed and scouts managed to see people being herded towards them before the bulk of their orbital and ground forces forced us away from them.”

”Hmm. A plan is being prepared to see what can be done about that. Keep the data flowing, Erősfal Actual, Channel One out.”

************

Tezekis Frontline Combat Theater, just outside Halott
Two hours since CASM landfall

Fighting this menace, this...CASM, was proving to be one of the most difficult endeavors the battlefield commanders of the Tezekian military had ever come across. They were no strangers to planetary warfare, many being veterans of the Rift War from over a century ago, where the Oozori had wiped away their orbital fleets and defenses and had laid siege to the world, conducting a campaign of extermination. The guerrilla tactics and fighting determined then were being put to use here, with an enemy that had orbital control just like then. Tunnels with exit points had been built during that war and had been in the process of being upgraded when the invasion came. The plan was to use this to pop out and hit the enemy before retreating, deploying ECM drones to mess with targeting in a wide area to make it harder for accurate fire support.

However, for now units had been deployed to quickly engage the enemy units, staying fairly close to them to make it so ortillery would harm both sides, and thus far had prevented them from being exterminated from orbit. And the enemy was like nothing they had fought before; drones were in using, delivering ordinance if left unmolested but their own combat drones were in play, battling them in an an aerial duel not seen since the world wars, with shrapnel and wreckage falling from the sky. Metal spiders crawled over rock and debris, a mounted turret spinning at high speeds to deliver energistic death. But still, they were managing to hold

'Whatever good fortune we have for that, we thank you.' Sergeant Harcos prayed to himself as he hefted his rifle. The cracking and buzzing zap of coilgun rifles going off filled the air, with the occasional explosion from a grenade. In return was only the slight sizzling with the in air that hinted at the laser weaponry being deployed against him by the enemy. He looked at his squad, two returning fire from behind the remains of a park wall, while the others looked at him.

“Alright, Jenkins, Kéka, you two keeping laying down cover fire, Piros, Klou you are coming with me, we're going to take that next wall. Ready?”

They nodded, hands gripping their weapons and brief chants and prayers being whispered. A heavy weapons team opened up on the spot ahead of them, bits of dirt, and other material being kicked up into their as the shots spent their kinetic energy into the ground and walls. Laser shots returned at no less frequency, with the spider turrets being destroyed in droves; combat drones swooped in but a squadron came in firing, missiles slamming into them and keeping them from stopping the attack. The three hurled over and began full on sprinting, firing as they went.

The enemy had been acting strangely, for as much as they had been able to observe. They used weapons designed to harm but not kill, burning through armor and hitting flesh but seemed to cause them to seize up and fall. Then moments later they got up and walked back towards the ship the enemy was streaming from. There was a downed squad over that wall and they had been ordered to try and rescue them.

Enemy fire began to increase, lasers focusing on them, and Piros took a hit on his armor, screaming as armor and flesh melted and the volts shot into his body, forcing him to fall. Harcos gritted his teeth and shouted, “GRENADES!”. Both of them hurled theirs at the section of wall covered by the turret spiders and a flash of sound, smoke and metal, left many of them in smoking ruin. They fired in bursts, driving at the horde; all across the line a similar push was being made, with vehicles coming into play, IFV's laying down cover fire and swatting at the aerial drones, and even a few tanks to help open up holes. Explosions began to pepper the enemy line, and the push they had been maintaining against the Tezekians started to waver. They finally managed to reach the wall, waving away at the smoke and started to search for their comrades. They found one remaining of the three squads, twitching but still alive, eyes seeming to roll around under their eyelids as if REM dreaming. Klou growled something in his saurian tongue and the Sergeant cut a knife hand at him, and he stopped.

“We got someone, at least. Administer the sedative and start hauling him back. I'm going back for Piros.” A hand came to his ear, activating the helmets communication suite.

”Halott Actual, this is Red 3 Squad, we've managed to rescue one of Blue 4 Squad, everyone else is gone. Proceeding to deliver back to the rendezvous point.”

“Acknowledged, Red 3. Once the package is secured, fall back to Firebase Four. Enemy forces have begun to push through our lines and ortillery is likely to start coming into play. New orders will be provided once you have arrived.”

“Wilco, Halott Actual.”

Weapons fire intensified as the word got out amongst the Tezekian force and they began to start a fighting withdrawal. The enemy seemed to sense this and started to come in on greater numbers; the air was filled with the sound of ignited air and screaming from injured soldiers. Klou grabbed their comrade, as Halco grabbed Piros, who was still twitching and whimpering in pain.

“Bad news, boss?”

“We're pulling out, Claw. Seems enemy orbital fire is imminent.”

“Ain't we going to be just outside Halcott itself then.”

The Sergeant hauled him Piros and looked at his saurian squadmate.

“Yep. The enemy forces just keep pouring out, while we keep losing guys to whatever the hell they're doing to them. We're grabbing this guy to try and see if we can find out what. Until we find out, it's just gonna be a long slow grind to defeat. Now let's going, I think the next wave is almost here.”

They began to book it, moving past the wall Jenkins and Kéka had been maintaining their fire from, who joined them in the overall retreat. Artillery and mortar fire, along with a new wave of aerial drones came forth to attempt to halt the enemy's advance to give them room to withdraw back to their fortified lines close to the city. The enemy seemed intent on taking the city and their people, so they would give them a choice to either fire up the city or have to force their way through the fortified cordon being established.

****************

Emergency Safety Bunker #47, Outskirts of Halcott, underground

"Breathe in

Breathe out,

Breathe in,

Breathe out.”

The soothing voice only an electronic recording could bring filled Rémült's ears as he remained curled up against a wall, struggling with his anxiety. Images of before ran through his heard before being violently pushed aside by his refusal to accept what happened, but it left him in a vulnerable state. The guards for the vault had been kind, giving him food, water and a place to be before returning to their posts. Others were in here as well, a general hum of whispering and muttering conversation, interrupted by bursts of noise from the combat above ground and the shuddering of orbital weapons fire. They had come from the outer areas of the city, many during the evacuations sounded when the orbital battle had begun and quickly lost, and had accelerated when the shields had gone down and the invasion began in earnest. There was a whole system of bunkers like this one spread around under each city, allowing for only true personnel needed above to do their jobs without interference from scared civilians.

The door was still open, with guards protecting the entrance as they processed more people in slowly but surely. A hand pressed on his shoulder and he jumped, his headphones almost falling off his head as he looked around.

“Hey, hey take it easy. Take it easy. I'm just checking on you, you seem...pent up. Name's Orion, yours?”

The avian stared at him a moment, observation skills absently kicking in as his brain struggled from the focus whiplash.

Short brown hair, blue eyes, fair skin, human. Too close, Too. Close.

He started to shrink back and Orion held up his hands. “Hey, hey, I'll back off a bit.”

True to his word, he backed off for a bit and Rémült began to calm down, the panic receding a little, enough to speak.

“Rémült.”

“I'm sorry?”

“Name. Rémült.”

The human's face lit up. “Oh, nice to meet you Rémült! No reason people should be in here alone.”

“Wasn't alone. Not..initially. Still waiting for family.”

The human waved an arm theatrically. “Why, my good man, err birdman, as am I! I was at work when this blasted invasion hit and now I'm stuck here waiting for word of them. This is the closest bunker to our home but they may have had to go to another one with all the fighting going on.”

"Breathe in,

Breathe out.

Breathe in,

Breathe out.

Breathe-"

Flashes of light as they descended on the home, robotic nightmares with searchlights and synthetic screeching. Father yells for Mother to take us and leave, pulling out an old rifle from the War and marches out. Gunfire rings out, but is shortly ended as he screams before going quiet. Mother-

His breathing accelerates as the memory blasts through his barricades before the intonations help him put it back again. Orion continued blathering on, something about account numbers and how Ted was a ass-kissing moron, but the words faded to static. Above him he thought could hear...something, little screeches as they tore away at the ground above, their hunger ever seeking to find new flesh. Rémült proceeded to panic and flail about, accidentally buffeting his human companion.

“Ack, ah, what, hey now, what are you doing?”

For once, words flowed normally from him as sheer terror set in.

“THEY'RE HERE! THE TINY DEVOURERS! THE BRAIN SHAPERS!”

-was in middle of packing when footsteps sounded and she saw Father there, oddly still, gun missing. She called out to him but he said nothing. She realized something was wrong but was too late, as stiff arms reached out and grabbed her, pushing her against the wall. Even in the low light of the curtains blocking the light outside, Rémült could see a mass of *something* pouring from his mouth and heading into mothers mouth and ears, turning her rigid as she screamed. His creche sister joined the screaming, batting at something he could barely see. Fear took all sense and he fled, muscle memory taking him through the back door and rushing towards the city lights.

To safety.

Shouts from the doorway drew the occupants attention away from the panicking avian as an alarm began to sound.

“The invaders have broken through! Safety bunkers 20-46 have been breached, unknown infiltration units. Close all doors, close them NOW!”

The guards hit the controls, but groaning could be heard as the door struggled to shift but remained in its places and sparks began to leap from the console.

“It's not working!”

“What do you mean it's not working?!”

“It means it's not working, dammit! There's multiple circuits damaged and several hubs that have been cut! Power can't get to the door properly!”

“HERE THEY COME!”

The people shoved into the back of the vault, screaming and crying as the guards took defensive positions at and around the doorway, while one of them was calling to other units for backup.

And then there it was, a chorus of synthesized rage that came pouring in, spider forms by the dozens, the cracking of coilrifles hammering their bodies apart, grenades were thrown with liberal abandon as they sought to hold back the tide. Ants dug up from the rock below and the rock above, crawling up legs and into ears, mouths and eyes. The guards had protective suits on but the civilians began to riot as they tried to get these things off and began to feel them entering their bodies.

The guards fought on, well-trained, stemming the tide at the front, even as the rearguard was lost before it began, but they were overwhelmed, one by one. Rifle, knife, grenade and even bare talon all were overcome by a tsunami of metal and cold logic. Rémült held his hands over his ears and cried, too upset to notice the faint smell of gas entering his lungs and bringing him and any still remaining unprotected into a deep sleep, doomed to wake up under foreign control.

"Breathe in,

Breathe out.

Breathe in,

Breathe out..."

************

Tezekis Orbit, Orbital Hospital Feltámadás

All had been quiet since the orbital battle; the crew of the Feltámadás had watched as the Imperial navy struggled against the invading forces and were annihilated, how all military orbital infrastructure had been obliterated, the scattered remnants of the once great shipyards filling space with scrap and the remains of the dead, and how a black cloud had consumed the atmosphere of the planet, with occasional strikes down of laser and kinetic fire. They could only numbly watch as their world, their system, their home was invaded. And it was about to get worse.

A man came running up to a tired looking Tezekian in medical clothing, going over the inventory charts once more. “Ma'am, you need to come see this.”

The other avian didn't even acknowledge the man as she continued to read.

“I don't need to see the invaders hitting the planet any more than I already have. Morale is low as it is, Evans.”

“No, ma'am, its the moon.”

That caught her attention and both quickly sprinted to a screen which showed the moon, Duna. Ships could be seen having maneuvered into position above a portion of it, and then a bright flash occurred, forcing them to look away a moment. When they came back, they could see rocks, dust and other debris shot into orbit, a massive crater having been shot into the moon. Then more came, and more, as craters littered the moon forcing light elements into the space above it, exposing the harder core of the moon. Traffic could be seen going to the moon and starting something, but they weren't sure as of what yet.

“What does this mean, ma'am? Why attack the moon?”

A morose clack. “It means they are here to stay. For some reason, they want the materials of that moon; possible to continue the siege of this system. Keep sensors on that for now, and keep me informed.” Alarms sounded right after.

“Oh what now?!”

The aide tapped some keys and looked over the screen quickly. “That was the proximity alarm. A ship has moved in close to the station, its on course to come near the habitat ring.”

“Keep eyes on it, scramble everyone to emergency stations and seal the doors. I'll go see if I can buy you some time.”

“Sir-”

The bird brushed him off with an angry wave of her hand. “Just do it Evans!”

The doctor came to the part of the station it was on course for, cursing under her breath.

“Stupid, stupid stupid! What the hell am I going to do, discuss the finger points of sterilizing procedures with them?!”

She jumped when something thumped on the other side and then sparks showered as a hole was burned into the hull. Nervously wringing her hands, she tried to straighten her feathers and assume her normal professional calm, but the shaking in her hands betrayed her inner feelings no matter how she schooled herself. The doorway popped open and confusion met her eyes for she saw one of her own kind, a Tezekian officer in military dress no less, chomping a cigar. As he moved into the room, something in her found the will to respond.

“Stay there...sir! The people here are under my care!”

“You don't happen to have any coffee machines, do you?” The avian coughed as the officer blew cigar smoke into her face. Before she could muster a response, she heard the doors hiss open behind her and turned around to see Tudomany Orvos.

“What are you doing here? I told everyone to go to their stations.”

The bird, feathers already starting the process of going to silver as per his age, was silent for moment, seeming to find words, head feathers drooping.

“Dr Itélt...I'm sorry. You know what they've done, your husband di-”

The officer stepped forward, breaking the conversation even as the message delivered sank into her stomach.

“That's quite enough, Dr Orvos.”

Anger and loss steeled her spine, enabling her to meet the officer eye to eye, voice calm despite the rage boiling inside.

“Now, what is your name, sir?”

“Colonel Silver, pleasure to meet you. I take it your Dr Itélt, yes? Could you tell me where the nearest coffee machine is?”

Wordless, she motioned for them to follow her and led them to the cafeteria. They would see food trays with eaten and unfinished meals in them, abandoned when the alarm sounded. The Colonel brushed past her once the machine was in sight, tapping in the settings with the ease of having done it a thousand times and nabbed a chocolate cookie. Soon after he poured out a coffee, holding one out for Dr Orvos who shook their had, refusing to look at Itélt.

“Now, Mr Sil-” She paused as she saw him viciously bite into the cookie, and sip large gulps of coffee loud enough to force a pause.

“This cookie tastes like shit with saccharin added for taste, but at least I know its not simulated.”

Itélt found this to be an odd comment, when was he simulating any sort of food? They had holograms but they couldn't properly establish taste or consistency of any kind. It was obvious he was with the invaders, for all other Imperial military personnel were dead in orbit.

“And the coffee, thus must be the worst, cheapest garbage ever to offend my taste buds, simulated or otherwise.”

Her patience had run thin, especially with the revelation from his now traitorous associate.

“Enough with the food critique, what are you doing here and what you want? You wear the uniform of the Imperium but serve those destroying it.”

Ah yes. You see, I joined them long ago. After my daughter contracted a then untreatable alien disease from foreigners, I searched everywhere for anyone who would save her, and that's how I found them, or they found me. It doesn't matter; in return, I help them help you all.”

“So you betrayed us, is what you're saying and you have come to take everyone here.” Her voice was quiet but starting to quake with overwhelming anger.

“I would expect you, a doctor of all people, to get it. They have a 'treatment' that makes anything else you have obsolete! I know there are patients that you can't save, and I know they can, like they saved my daughter.”

She crossed her arms, staring eye daggers at the fellow avian. “And why didn't they just storm here like they did to the remaining ships in orbit and the other orbitals?”

“You see, if they just stormed aboard recklessly, released everything they had, they'd damage the equipment here. They can't do that, can't kill a patient in a rush to treat them, but if they have no other option, rush they will. So for the sake of everyone aboard, I need your full cooperation.

Or else.”

Itélt shook her had, chuckling darkly. Orvos started to shake his head but was ignored.

“Whomever these CASM are, they clearly don't understand doctors very well, or diplomats, seeing as they had you come here. Don't presume to know what I would prefer, Colonel. Lost patients are a tragedy, but the miracle cure your newfound friends are peddling seems to come with a high price, considering hundreds to thousands of people are now DEAD AND FLOATING IN THE ORBIT OF OUR HOMEWORLD!”

A fist smashed into the table, causing the coffee to spill and smash to the floor, Orvos stepping back in fear of her arms coming for him next.

“If they wanted to offer some kind of cure, they could have done so at any time, we'd have welcomed it, investigated it, hell cooperated! But the shit I've seen thus far shows that its not this 'no strings attached' wonderland you make it out to be. Unannounced, they came, fucked with our communications, killed all means of defending ourselves, coated our skies in black shit, and then proceeded to fire down on our homeworld, killing who knows how many people? And you DARE come here speaking of saving lives?!”

She breathed heavily, rage spending itself in her words, before she managed to gather herself.

“However, as one who has promised to do no harm, I do have my patients and my people to consider, traitors or not.” Orvos met her gaze and looked away, hands gripping each other tightly.

“Your masters have us by the throat and so I can only choose from bad options. However, I will choose jack shit until I get assurances of what is going to happen to this station and my people, patient or otherwise and what the hell this treatment is. I'm not handing them over to some unknown, possible horrible fate based on the sob story of a traitor.”

by **Olimpiada** » Wed Jan 16, 2019 8:49 pm

Triumvirate, Gaia
Elysia-3 Capital Arcology, One Day Into the Battle of Tezekis

“Ladies and gentlemen of the Archontia, I come before you all this day to present a simple truth: all independently autonomous sophonts desire to maintain that autonomy. Humans, as more refined beings, prefer to call it freedom. Though many have argued back and forth on the extent to which it should be allowed, the end goal of any society is to be independent, yet strong. The Enlightenment on Old Terra. The Pythean Exodus. Our Bellum Libertatis. I could name a thousand more examples across every fractal’s history, and it would make the point no more or less clear. We wish to be free to think, to speak, and to act.” In the crowd, men, women, and their holographic representations watched him with the calculating glares of the ancient and wealthy. His speech was for the benefit of the cameras, not for those in the audience who had the same information as him and had already made their decisions.

“It is for this very reason that we must be vigilant against those who would wish it to cease being so. We shun gates as they threaten our economic autonomy. We battle back the hordes of Izirian drones and countless other xenoi, as they hold no regard for our much vaunted freedoms of speech and action. And now, some thousands of lightyears distant, we find ourselves facing the greatest of these threats yet: machines which would rob us of our very thoughts.” President Cyrenacius waved a hand in a broad gesture, but the interface fibers woven beneath his skin and into his brainstem interpreted it as a command to bring up a number of holograms behind his speaking podium. Their glow lit up his stubble covered jawline and salt-and-pepper hair. It had been a rough day, and he’d not had a break in thirty hours now.

As the videos began to play, he spoke once more. “Watch these closely. They show our fate if we do not act. Each of these humans was once much like you or I. But as the machines fall from the sky and onto this unsuspecting world, they no longer possess any will of their own. Each of these nanomachines will breed within their bodies like a virulent plague, stripping them of any control they possess. Doubtless, their souls are screaming in anguish as their bodies shuffle zombielike about the ruined world of Tezekis.” Another gesture with his other hand simultaneously closed the videos and opened up one large one.

“Preliminary intelligence suggests that if we do not act quickly, they will grow far too much to be controlled. You can see the moon Duna which orbits Tezekis. Presently, it is becoming a war machine.” He made a fist and opened it, and the feed zoomed and focused on a cluster of machines around a strip mine constructing weapons platforms. “We face a foe which can not only tear our bodies from our souls, but also grow exponentially to bring this fate to countless other innocent men and women, none deserving this hell. Before your vote, I ask you not if we will allow this to continue, but if we can allow it at all? Is not war in every orbital latitude, sky, sea, and street not preferable to damnation at the hands of these unholy aberrations from beyond the stars?”

Cobalt L5, Gaia
Castellum Nagoya, Two Days Into the Battle of Tezekis

Ambrosius regarded the woman across the table coldly. She appeared to be only in her late thirties, yet he knew full well that the best augs, gengs, and pharma money couldn’t buy kept her young in her eighties. Her long brown hair was pulled into a ponytail on the back of her head, revealing her carefully curated half-asian features and engineered golden eyes which had seen enough that the high ranking military official before her hardly fazed her. Katherine Iwakura, CEO and majority shareholder of BlueSky Industries, owner of two planets, was the picture of wealth and power, and Ambrosius somehow had to convince her that she’d been outbid.

“Fleet Admiral, I’m uncertain if you know how this works. It is due to the support of my satellite companies that your war was voted into reality at all. Hex was hardly supportive, and their six votes would have stopped you dead in your tracks if not for my support in the matter.”

“I apologize madam, but Hex’s logistics contract is simply a better option for this operation. Their rate per jump is seventeen percent lower, and they boast faster response times in mission-critical situations.” Calm as ever, she reached down to take a sip from a fine bone china cup she had brought. The centuries of webbed golden kintsugi betrayed an ancient origin, possibly from Old Terra. He marveled at how high corporate could afford to be so flashy with ancient artifacts. Even the Oracle Oshino and his yakuza kept a few just to impress upon their foes their power. She finished her tea and spoke once more.

“This pot was brewed with high quality leaves, you know. Grown in my personal garden on Emerald and carefully maintained by colonies of engineered bees and soil bacteria. Finer things are always a challenge to enjoy properly.” The teapot steamed and bubbled merrily on its heating plate between them, a wisp of steam drifting slightly to the side as the asteroid rotated at one third gee. “It wasn’t always difficult to get good tea, of course. But these days, most folks have switched over to genegineered coffee plantations, and the price has risen significantly. Supply and demand is a fascinating thing. Sometimes, supply dries up.” And the bitch was up to something. Great.

“You’ll find that Mykonos is no longer willing to supply Hex with antimatter fuel for this operation.” He nearly choked, but managed to keep the reaction in check. Hidden social implants in her eyes probably caught the faux pas. Her sly smile revealed that they had. Shit. “Cogitatus should know better than to cross me like that. And you should know better than to help him do so. Given that they are now relying wholly on fusion scoops in Vosporos, you’ll find their price is some thirty percent higher than mine.” She had him. He gulped. “Perhaps you might like to consider an alternative business option?”

Cobalt L5, Gaia
FWOS Waters of Nazareth, Four Days Into the Battle of Tezekis

Four gees pressed down on Captain Arethas Hosidius as his Constantinople-class burned hard through the void between worlds. On the viewscreens surrounding his seat, he could spot another forty-seven points of light, his ship being on the outside of the formation, a thousand klicks distant from the next nearest vessel. Nautikos XII Gaia was making haste to the first Classem in Expeditionem Tezekis, merging with the six hundred vessels already present there. The majority of those had jumped in from other systems, but an in-system jump was not deemed a responsible antimatter investment when the fleet in question was based around nearby Cobalt.

Hosidius would ordinarily exercise while under this high burn and take advantage of his military grade body, but maintaining updates and coordination with the rest of the Classem was taking something of a toll on his command capabilities. He couldn’t fathom what sort of duress Fleet Admiral Ambrosius was under with this command. Every few minutes, another call would come in, seeking him to confirm a present order, or alter his course in response to a new one. He almost envied their silicate foes. At least they could handle this all with a preprogrammed set of instructions guided by an omniscient mind.

Another such call came in. Hosidius yawned, his jaw stretching wide in the high gravity and requiring undue effort to close. He shifted it uncomfortably before looking at the holographic alert screen, and flinching when he saw he’d blown off the Fleet Admiral himself. The outreach was unexpected, and he quickly readied himself for contact with the big man himself. He lifted a heavy arm, swiped right on the screen, and listened attentively. “Captain Hosidius.” The admiral looked tired, his eyes bloodshot and chin even less shaven than usual. The Waters of Nazareth has been selected for a mission of significant importance to our overall war effort.” The screen shifted some to reveal zoomed and refined images of the Tezekian moon Duna. “Recon drone incursions revealed that the moon of our objective has fallen victim to a Von Neumann swarm. As these pictures are two days old, and we are unable to acquire newer ones, we must assume that the worst has happened, and the moon has been made into a hub for enemy weapons use and manufacture.” Hosidius swallowed hard. He had read his dossier, and knew well that this was entirely plausible. “A package has been launched from Cobalt to intercept you, courtesy of the Ascendancy. You will not receive any orders to reroute your vessel until successful interception has been made. This package and defense of it are of the utmost importance for you and your crew. Your Nautikos has additionally been made aware of this mission, and will protect your vessel however possible. This includes the Basileus-class vessels you would ordinarily be tasked with protecting.”

“May I ask what this package is, sir?”

“For opsec reasons, you may not. However, there are enclosed instructions and answers for after you are within launch range and given the appropriate encryption keys to access the data within.” Drat. He liked to know what he was working with. He had the documentation to every system on his ship from guns to air fresheners. Though he didn’t tend to go out of his way to read them, the knowledge was good to have. And now he was expected to take a one hundred tonne payload he knew nothing about and cart it to some literally godforsaken moon halfway across the quadrant. Exactly how he had wanted his day to go.

Duna L2, Tezekis
FWOS Until the Sun Dies, Seven Days Into the Battle of Tezekis

The blink drive operated without any flash or flair, simply dropping ships from one point in reality into another. The ships themselves were less subtle. Brilliant white water plasma blossomed from blocks of external coolant, trailing behind the vessels briefly as they flew off at their previously plotted burns. Twenty-one Nautikoi flew in this manner, a total of one thousand and eight vessels arcing around the moon in various angles, in groups of two and three squadrons, seeking to wrap around the little sphere of rock and bombard anything below that looked even a little hostile.

Inside the sealed environment of his space suit, Ambrosius watched the proceedings with an easily faked detachment. It wasn’t hard to hide his emotions when his only contact with others was through a secured radio link. The enigmatic admiral, behind his faceplate and combat armor, plugged into his gel chair with fiber optic wires and drug IVs. The man himself was subsumed in so much machinery that he could project whatever he wanted to.

In reality, he was as nervous as he thought anyone had ever been. No commander before him had been given this much wealth to work with, no commander before him had had this many lives at the risk of his decisions, no commander before him had been tasked with a merely selective purging of a planet rather than a wholesale one. Too many “firsts” for one man to handle at once, he reasoned.

Despite the sheer absurdity of the situation, he pressed on. The battle had not quite begun, and he had a few minutes to put his forces on burns for better positioning. Nautikoi VI through XII Gaia’s trajectories blossoming into a starburst across the moon, seeking points below to rake with nukes, beams, and kinetics. XII was burning more slowly than the groups to its front, VIII and XI paving the way ahead of it sixty degrees to either side. It was good that Hosidius was being cautious with his weapon, he supposed.

Another sixteen Nautikoi burned away from the moon, heading up toward a higher orbit where they could more effectively keep fire on reinforcements aiming at the bomber groups below them. In between them, Ambrosius kept his flagship, surrounded by a loose globe of vessels. Their recessed combat radiators glowed dimly dozens of kilometers away in tight formation. Periodically, one would grow brighter as it loosed a missile or beam at an incoming warship or projectile. He sighed, and gripped his seat rest more tightly. Eventually, one would get through his defense nets. And then, he may well be a dead man.

The Zealot & The Falcon [IC, CLOSED FT RP]

The Zealot & The Falcon [IC, CLOSED FT RP]

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