NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: To reinforce the title, this is closed to me and Chron ONLY, unless either of us want so let anyone in, in that rare case.

Now, this thread is not canon for us in anyway; this is basically a "What if...." scenario. What if the Imperium of Terra was attacked by the Chronosian Imperium? That's what this is. It won't affect our nations history really, unless we choose to have it happen and is in a sense, a wargame.

Mostly, its just a thread to ease my boredom and Chron's desire to slaughter something.

Anyways, enjoy!

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0900 hours, April 16th, 2671 (Military Calendar)\
Jakarthi System, Planet 0345, CODENAME: Obsidian

Askar II, the bright sun of this system sent its yellowish-orange light flooding through the system, causing shimmers all throughout the system due to the light filtering through the space dust. Light bounced off of the asteroids on the left edge of the system, causing a tiny point of light to gleam on that part of space. And finally, the light impacted with a massive, solid object. It was a dark planet, with a murky black color, punctuated at several points by glaring red points, and the network of dots that revealed that, somehow, civilization had managed to conquer this rough planet.

This....was Obsidian.

Named after its dark rock that piled up on countless layers due to the constant volcanic activity, this world was rich in mineral and raw material resources as well as in valuable gases such as tritium and deuterium. A perfect mining world. Terraforming had made the planet much less volcanic than it had been upon discovery, enabling massive cities to be built on the planet, connecting roads, and mining sectors and industrial complexes, that turn these vital resources into war machines and weapons as well as various items for the citizenry and the Imperium as a whole. It was a vital planet in the continued existence and sustaining of the Imperium's military. Massive shipyards orbited the planet, producing the various ships, added onto it being an Inner Colony, it had a higher military presence than most, an entire fleet guarding the planet and hosts of Marines along with several ODST complements guarding the planet, provided with countless vehicles, weapons and other items by the great factories of Obsidian. It had been discovered shortly after the Human Civil War and it played a key role in rebuilding the Human Empire, as well rearming the navy and the army to its present glory, and was considered a key planet in HIGHCOM's eyes, so they had a formidable presence in the system. With the fleet in system, added onto the ships produced by the ship and local patrols, a large Super MAC station network, crack Marine and ODST divisions on the ground with state of the art weaponry, and anti-air, infantry and tank systems protecting the military bases, air spaces, and cities of Obsidian, HIGHCOM was confident that no one would dare take a crack at this planet, and those who had the capability to would hopefully realize that there was no point in getting bogged down in a war that would drain countless resources.

They did not, however, count on the Chronosians.......


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Capital City of Obsidian, Abysha, current HQ for the defense of Obsidian

General Elias watched the holoscreens with clenched hands, watching as the Imperium's fleets battled the unknown enemy that had invaded their skies and so brutally smashed into the defenses of this fortified planet. No motive was known, aside from a garbled transmission demanding submission to the “Chaos Gods” and the “Imperium of Man”. Strange growls and some sort of unknown force had interfered with the transmission but the message was clear:

Submit or die.

However, the Imperium did not give in so easily and so their forces had been mobilizing during the past hour, as the orbital defenses and ships exchanged salvo after salvo of space-shattering fire. And for the past hour, with breaks to go give out orders for deployment and oversee the mobilization, he had watched the situation in orbit. Admiral Jalkar was doing a fine job but their enemy was just as well-trained, tough and determined as they were, and he was forced to watch as ship after ship, along with their crews, exploded or ripped in two, littering orbit with bits of debris and bodies. Granted, their enemies were suffering the same rate of casualties, but they had lost so many, so soon, it was a dire omen. Not since the Covenant-Human War had so many been killed in that space of time.

They did get a shard of luck, however. Their enemy, identified through a stray transmission as the “Chronosian Imperium”, had backed off to one side of the planet. The Terrans fleet had pulled back themselves to cover the rest of the planet, and the main shipyards. He was forced to watch as the cut-off Super MAC stations were slagged one by one, though they put up a hell of a fight, damaging more ships and destroying several before falling under the enemy fire.

They would be avenged.

Help had been called for, but due to the invasion by the aliens in the Harvest system, as well as trouble in the Garvandis systems, doubled with the need to adequately protect the entire Imperium, it would be several weeks before a proper counter assault could be launched, to drive out the enemy. Reinforcements were being sent but they were not enough to thrust out the enemy, both Admiral Jalkar and Elias agreed on this, but they could force a stalemate. The brewing conflict, they both knew, was going to be bloody and claim many lives. Sighing, the General turned to the tactical holomap, showing the deployment of Terran forces around the planet. All the cities were deep into the zone the military had established as their main stronghold, which became known as OLYMPUS, the citadel of the Gods, in their transmissions, so to keep the enemy off their back. Their countless air, vehicle and infantry defense systems were active and regular Skyhawk and Sparrowhawk patrols were keeping the airspace safe, along with ground patrols of Warthogs kept the area safe. Artillery positions covered the entire area twice over, making it a tough nut to crack. Seven subsequent areas had been established as “forts” of a kind, around this one point. They provided the last line of defense before OLYMPUS itself, and were major forts with artillery positions, air-fields and vehicle pools, as well as a solid stock of infantry.

The first line of defense for all these was a series of Firebases that crisscrossed a large field of obsidian, that was still warm due to the proximity of a lava pool nearby. It was a massive field, which was bordered by two smaller passes that were blocked with anti-vehicle road blacks, anti-tank LOTUS mines, and an entrenched 23rd Eagle and 45th Wolf ODST divisions, full with air support and vehicles. The main area that would have to be watched was the massive field, as a large amount of forces could be deployed rather quickly, so a network of Firebases had been established during the time Obsidian was colonized to guard against enemy attack. Now, they were being used and manned, with regular patrols sweeping the airspace and the ground, though not as heavy as the farther in forts and OLYMPUS. Elias knew that they were most likely going to be hard hit and casualties were expected but they needed to give a target to the Chronosians to hit, so they could ambush them and cut them off with superior air and vehicle power, as well as get an idea of what they were up against.

Sending several new orders for Skyhawks to cover Firebase Gamma's left flank, he sat and waited for the inevitable assault to begin....

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Firebase Bravo, 0935 hours

Private Jezar stood at his post at the Gauss Turret that covered the flanks of the Firebase. Private Diaz had control of the one to his right. Smoke drifted away from Jezar as he smoked a cigarette, taking it out of his mouth, he glanced at Diaz. “Yo, Amanda, you okay over there?” The girl was noticeably nervous, her eyes scanning the skies and the ground constantly. She had been aboard one of the fleet's cruisers during the battle and had seen the devastation firsthand that their enemies could unleash. And the fuckers that had been groundside the wholetime were treating it like a cakewalk. ”Fucking bastards...”

“EARTH TO AMANDA!” She gazed angrily at the other Private.

“What the FUCK do you want NOW, Bill?” The other man grinned.

“Lighten up, girl. We have enough firepower to toast even those damned Sentinels that were on Onyx during the war to kingdom come. We will be fine, if the enemy comes, we have Skyhawks, Sparrowhawks and Shortsword bombers for air support, LOTUS mines, anti-infantry mines, plasma mines, artillery, our vehicles, tanks, and good ole Marine green boys and girls to kick the ass out of any alien who even sneezes the wrong way on Obsidian. With anti-air and vehicles defenses to boot, and great leaders, General Elias knows what he is doing, we will be fine. So just relax girl and....” He trailed off at her glare. He knew when she was truly mad and she was beyond that point now. Her words were growled out and a mixture of hatred and fear oozed from them.

“You have no FUCKING idea what they can do, do you? I saw entire fucking carriers, CARRIERS DAMMIT, torn to shreds under their weapons. The entire fleet heard the death screams of the people fighting their boarding parties, as well as the noises of the Chronosians. Humans or even aliens don't laugh so evilly that they can send a chill down even the Helljumpers backs, or can rip a man in two, as we witnessed on the last recordings of the Concord. You have no idea of what they can do, and getting cocky will get us all killed, Bill. The enemy is tough and hardcore, the fact that we are at a stalemate in space when this planet is a fuckin' bunker should show you we have a serious problem on our hands.”

“Not taking this serious will be the biggest mistake of our lives, Bill. Just you wait, they'll come and if we are not at our best, we can kiss this planet's ass goodbye....”

In the void there moved a ship that was not a ship. Not anymore. Long ago it had carried that title, been a vessel of Man. It had borne heroes across the galaxy, safe within the gilded corridors of its might. In its hull there still endured the records of its glories. Of worlds brought to compliance, of battle brothers who had died in service to it. Now it served as a tomb to those who would dare oppose the warriors of the Emperor. It’s hull was marked and scarred with the welts of countless crusades, battered and bruised. The metal was discoloured, gleaming sickly in the light of the local star.

Slowly it pushed onwards, sliding past the debris of enemy ships and the Chronosian vessels that had succumbed. It glided like a shark through the waters of night, predatory, silent, its objective clear; the planet below. Slowly, it idled to a stop, its brothers moving with it, pausing above the broken world. It was rich, plentiful. In time those who laboured upon its surface would come to acknowledge the rule of the Imperium. The ship that was not a ship waited.

Within the heart of the beast, the walls alive with pulsing vegetation and rotting flesh, insects cavorting across the bare tapestry of flensed skin, rank with the stench of death, the Captain waited, as much a part of his vessel as he was barely human. His body was immense, bloated with rot. Flies crawled across split skin, nestling in the mossy muscle that hid beneath its blackened flesh. He gurgled, his mouth thick with mucus, maggots crawling within the cavernous maw, sliding across broken, crooked teeth. Tubes and instrumentation violated him, machine implants grown rusty and twisted with age and putrefaction.

“We have arrived?” The voice was harsh and mechanical, projecting from a vox-caster lodged in his swollen throat, a gangrenous ring of metal and flesh, fused and inflamed. “We ready for war against lesser men?”

“We do, Captain. The fleet is gathered in the name of Lucian.”

“The Blight-talkers speak, Brother-Captain! They whisper of the voice! Papa Nurgle blesses our enterprise.” Eyes thick with cataracts look skyward, to the suspended, gibbering patients of maddened discontent. Hooks mar their skinny forms, digging into dry skin and bone. They look like famine victims, save for their staring eyes and constantly moving tongues. Stale water drips upon them from somewhere high above, these distended psyker-things, and they whisper. On and on. Over and over.

“The will of Nurgle is clear. This world shall be cleansed. Permission to begin primary bombardment?”

“Permission granted.”

He shuddered, and the ship moved with him, undulating and flailing in the endless void, weapons roaring in carnal discharge, its cursed weaponry hammering down upon the world. Further from the defensive lines of the cursed man-foes, would rain the blessings of Nurgle, to debase the world in his name and image. Closer to them, the blessings would be lesser (but by no means less potent), and instead they would be tried in killing fire.

The skies seemed to burn, roaring in hues of red and green and dancing in warp-spawned colours for which there are not names. The first Chronosian bombardment roared down upon the worlds of the Terrans with the fury of the Gods themselves, anointed, holy flame.

And somewhere in the bowels of the Warp, the laughter of some dark and terrible God seemed to echo, as the Blight-talkers gibbered and giggled along with it.

The Cruiser was drifting through T-Space, or Dimensional Space. It was scanning the STC below for any problems. They were to keep an eye for any sneak attacks from those blasted Remians while the main group goes after their Empress.

“Captain, I am detecting a confrontation brewing. It’s off the W-Axis on an alternate timeline from ours so there should not be any overlap.”

“Who are the antagonists?”

“It appears the Imperium of Terra is having a confrontation with Chronosia.”

“What?!”

“Yeah, the sensor reading are accurate. I tripple checked them.”

“Be sure to record everything. I doubt we will ever get the chance to watch two of our allies duke it out, otherwise keep our distance. We are to stay completely out of it. Our main concern is this Timeline, not the alternate ones.”



OOC:


*TAG* for entertainment purposes only. No involvement intended.

General Elias watched the tactical map, eyes narrowed and fists clenched. He glanced at his watch. It was 0950, fifteen minutes after they expected the first attack. "Why the hell are they not attacking? They should have attacked by now! I don't like this...." The holopad at his right elbow flickered and a greenish-blue woman in MJOLNIR armor appeared. The General had an immense respect for the Spartans that had fought and died in the Covenant War, and so, for his little personal tribute, he had the A.I. for Obsidian be modeled after one of his personal heroes: Spartan 084: Kelly. The A.I. blinked.

"You alright sir? You seem troubled." Elias sighed and leaned back into his chair, and shifted his head to gaze at her.

"Just worrying, Kelly. The Chronosians should have attacked by now. It doesn't make any sense." The A.I. shook its head.

"Don't overexert yourself, sir. You can't be everywhere at once."

A sigh. "I know that, but like any proper commander, I still have to try, for the men and women under my command's sake." Kelly nodded.

"Understood sir. Recommend-" She was cut off as the alarms blared and all screens turned to reveal the Chronosian ship, its multiple batteries powering up. Elias froze for an entire three seconds and then swore, belting out orders. The A.I. had already calculated the trajectory and he saw where they were firing. A massive bowl that made a perfect spot for a base.....and the line of Firebases that protected their part of the planet.

"WARN THEM! TELL THEM TO GET THE FUCK OUT OF THERE! GET ADMIRAL JALKIN ON THE HORN, NOW!"

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Firebase Bravo, 0950

Bill held up placating hands. "Alright, alright, sheesh. I got your point, just don't get so depressed. Even IF they are demons and are stronger in every way, we aren't down and out just yet."

"Yeah okay, Bill. Tell that to those who died in orbit."

He gritted his teeth. "Fucking A, girl!" It was his turn to get mad. Jumping out of his turret, he walked over and yanked her off her turret and pushed her into a wall. "Do you think we can't win? HUH?! Are you or are you not a Marine, an honest to god, God-defying, reality-shattering, ass-raping Marine?!"

Her glare intensified. "What does it fucking look like, Jezar?"

"ANSWER ME!" She blinked, startled, but she recovered.

"Yes I am, you shithead."

"Then you should fucking know what the core went through during the war with the Covies."

"Yes, I know-"

He interrupted violently, slamming a hand on the wall next to her head. "No you fucking don't! Let me give you a quick summary of the war and I'd BETTER see some gears turning or I am kicking your ass back to HQ."

She could only nod, paralyzed by his anger. "We were outnumbered, out-gunned, out-teched, you name it, they had it as an advantage. They were stronger in everyway and they might as well have been demons. But did we give up?"

"..."

"I ASKED YOU A QUESTION, DIAZ!"

"NO, WE DID NOT!"

He stomped the ground. "Damn FUCKING straight. We fought, bled and died in horrible ways during that war. And we even faced down the worst demons imaginable: The Flood. That fucking parasite had us against the wall, but we beat it, DIDN'T WE MARINE?! Damn straight we did. Now, you stop whining and bitching and get some pride in that jellyshit excuse for spine or I'll-" What he was going to do if she didn't was never known as at that point the bombardment began to hit in the form of the dark sky, murky black with gray overtones, began to light up like a fireworks show. Bill turned and looked upward.

"What the hell....." Diaz's eyes bugged out. Anyone who lived in the Imperium knew exactly what was going on, from the war, having seen it happen to so many planets.

"SHIT, ORBITAL BOMBARDMENT!" Just as she said this, multi-colored shapes slammed into the ground around the Firebases, sending shockwaves through out the area and causing total chaos. Explosions ripped into the air as several bases were hit directly by the blast, wiping out a section of the base, and screams could be heard. Vehicles were sent flying through the air and entire patrols of troops were wiped out, their short transmissions getting through, screams and cries for help being quickly cut off.

Their personal COM's buzzed. "All forces, execute Omega Three. NOW! Sector Alpha and Tango is under heavy orbital bombardment. Fall back to rally points February thru November. I repeat, all Terran forces, execute Omega Three immediately!" Diaz and Jezar were already moving when they heard the buzz. They found a Warthog and Jezar jumped in the driver seat, while she took passenger. Gunning it, they rocketed out of the base, as men streamed out of their barracks, heading for the vehicles. The strikes were so sudden and powerful, that panic had set in and men were even running, not even going for the vehicles. If there was one thing Marines feared the most, it was ships firing on them. There was nothing to do but endure or retreat and in this open field, retreat was the best they could do. Secondary Firebases had been prepared, and those were the rally points. Jekar and Diaz were heading for rally point July, when they felt the subsonic roar of an incoming blast, which slammed behind them and the shockwave sent the Warthog tumbling, dust being shot everywhere around them. When they landed miraculously face up, they were looking at the ruins of Firebase Bravo. The ground was dark green and a fetid stench could be smelt for miles, with debris and body parts littering the area. All 200 men and women, all wiped out. And they were not the only ones, as their COM's showed.

"Shit, Shit, Shit. Firebases Alpha and Bravo are gone. Tango and Gamma have received heavy damage. The ground is a fucking mess. It's fucking mucky and smells like shit. It's like its fucking alive. We are pulling back from our positions and will be there short-" The sound of an explosion ripped through the COM.

"OH GOD NO! GO GO GO! WE CAN OUTRUN IT IF WE-"*crackle*

"This is Firebase Zulu, all forces successfully at Rally Point February. Request immediate mobilization of air support and reinforcements. Enemy forces appear to be clearing an LZ in sector four-zero-five. I repeat, enemy forces are trying to clear an LZ in sector four-zero-five. Recommend establishing defensive line here, and recovering what Firebases we can after the assault is over."

Jekar sighed. At least there was some good news. Putting the pedal to the metal, he raced for the rally point.

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The reports coming in were horrible. Five Firebases were wiped out, four more severely damaged. So far, 800 had been killed in the barrage, along with 120 more due to the strange ground that sickened and killed soldiers trapped in the miasma. Soldiers were forced to watch as their comrades skin melted away and forced to listen to their screams and death gurgles. General Elias could hardly bear to watch but he forced himself, they were under his command and he was the only one to blame. Admiral Jalkin, or his torso anyways, was floating on a holopad.

"General, I understand your situation but I have my hands full."

Elias's fist slammed into the desk. "My men are getting slaughtered out there! I need you to send at least two ships to distract that ship! They are going to make landfall soon and get a foothold on Obsidian!"

"I know that, Elias, but what do you want me to do? You already know that the Chronosians are watching us like hawks. I have already tried moving my fleet for a possible long range assault, but they shifted their fleet to counter it. If I move to engage, the enemy fleet will attack and more will die. Also, we will lose more of the planets space, opening you to more orbital attacks. Coupled with defending the remaining Super MAC stations and the shipyards, my hands are fucking tied, General!"

Elias swore, and turned back to the tactical map, watching as the last of his forces pulled back to the secondary Firebases. "I'm sorry, Elias, you are on your own. I may be able to provide scattered bombardments myself but aside from that, you have only your own forces to use to fight them." He vanished and was replaced by Kelly. Elias spoke hoarsely.

"Have reinforcing companies and the air support been mobilized?"

"Yes sir. All is ready to hit them when they choose to land. The Admiral is causing some noise upstairs, not enough to cause an engagement, but he is putting pressure on the fleet. That is all we can ask of him." He watched, hands clenched as the ground around the Firebases became tainted and the crater in sector four-zero-five become a mass of dark green: the LZ for Chronosia's forces.

"When we retake the remaining Firebases, order all forces to scorch the infected sections of ground with flamethrowers. Plasma setting. I want no more men to die because of their weapons."

"Yes sir."

And Nurgle looked upon all that was verdant, and brought it to ruin. And he cast his eyes upon the universe, and saw that it was fertile with the seeds of life, and death and disease were upon them! Blessed be to the glory of Nurgle! Our Father Nurgle! We are his chosen sons, the most blessed sons of Lucian! Who more than we are blessed! Who else shall harken the universe into the throes of its ickly death!

Blessed are we who suffer, blessed are we who sicken, blessed....Blessed!

The transmissions echoed on every medium available to them, laced with brutal cants of war. The Chronosians had brought their most delectable weapons to bear, for now the Terrans stood against the knife-edge. They stood facing down the Plague Fleets. Already the world below sickened and festered with his baleful touch, the glorious touch of Nurgle. Already it twisted and bent to the will of foul technology and direst sorcery, disease called forth from the warp that no man's medicine could cure, ancient viral weapons from the dawn of the Imperium.

Each to add to the suffering of the foe who cast their lot as heretics.

Slowly, the troop carriers tore through the heavens like the chariots of the Gods they served, plunging aflame towards the world that awaited their might, their rage. Their blessing. The first soldiers to grace the world with their presence were not the warriors of the Guard, nor even the glorious Astartes. Instead, they poured from the landers like a roiling tide of besmirched flesh.

Some were marked by boils and blisters, pulsing wounds that ran with thick puss, flies crawling and skittering across their bodies. Runes and markings adorned them, etched into their makeshift armor and weapons, carved into their very flesh. Those designated as leaders amongst the pestilent flock were adorned in dried skin, ripe with disease and crawling with vermin. They towered above them, mantles of gleaming bone upon them as they strode forth and screamed the death-cries of Nurgle.

This was but a fraction of their force, and their army, and it was death to all who walked or crawled. They had tasted the glories of the Plague Lord, they had crossed the stale void and the glorious warp and now they would taste the flesh of the unbelievers, and litter their remains with Papa Nurgle’s blessings.

They crested the hill, a roaring, mewling tide of diseased flesh, crowing with praises to Nurgle and damnations for their enemies. The crack of stubbers and the whine of lasfire echoed as they threw themselves forward towards the fray, intent upon the doom of their enemies.

The fleet dwelt above, ferrying the mighty armies of the Imperium to the world below. Cultists mingled with the true soldiers of the Imperial Guard, who themselves strived to war in Nurgle’s name beside the warriors of the Astartes, the most ruinously damned and gifted of all the Imperium’s warriors. Warriors who had fought for generations, strategic thinkers and tacticians beyond any mere men.

“Blind our foes with the flames of the Gods.” A hiss went out from the mighty power-armored figure upon the bridge of the flagship, gesturing at a ragged map, his fingers tracing across the arcs of space towards a single point.

Two ships tore free of the material realm and vanished into the miasma of the warp, rending existence, forcing themselves into the Immaterium, the realm of the Gods. Their howl of madness echoed as reality itself seemed to rend around the shipyards and defences, the barely crewed fire ships allowing themselves to overload, their cargo of explosives and munitions detonating in the midst of the Imperial defences.

While a battle brewed below, so to would there be a tumult in the heavens to keep their foes pinned beneath the envenomed blades of the chosen of the Plague Lord.

And Nurgle looked upon all that was verdant, and brought it to ruin. And he cast his eyes upon the universe, and saw that it was fertile with the seeds of life, and death and disease were upon them! Blessed be to the glory of Nurgle! Our Father Nurgle! We are his chosen sons, the most blessed sons of Lucian! Who more than we are blessed! Who else shall harken the universe into the throes of its ickly death!

Blessed are we who suffer, blessed are we who sicken, blessed....Blessed!

General Carter grimaced. ”Bloody religious fanatics....of all the enemies I get to fight, it has to be fucking zealots. Lovely.” He stood in the command room of Fort Hades, one of the several forts protecting the main city. Gazing out on the battlefield via holograms, he saw all that was going on. Flights of Skyhawks and Longswords patrolled the sky, while long lines of Warthogs and Ghosts zoomed over land. He sighed.

He was absolutely sure the coming conflict was going to be bloody and wasn't sure if they could even win. “But we have to try...” The alarm sounded and the map swirled to show the incoming troops carriers. Carter glanced at them and knew they wouldn't be able to stop the first wave. He sent a warning to the defensive line, which had just barely been completed and was being fortified. They gave up the destroyed and damaged Firebases to the enemy, they couldn't do anything with them. Sending orders for the Banshees, Longswords and Skyhawks to engage the next wave of troop carriers, as well as activated the anti-air missile defense system.

He also sent an order to deploy the Shortsword bombers. The men would need help holding off the attack.

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Captain Carson hated life right now. Not only had he been forced to leave the place he had to know as home and lost several friends, but the enemy was fucking UGLY. All the men heard the transmissions and when they saw the cultists, they knew what they were talking about.

“You mean...they LIKE being diseased?”

“Must have gone fucking nuts when the disease reached their brains.” He shook his head.

“Cut the chatter and focus on your field of fire. HQ said they were coming, so they should be here soon.” No sooner had the words left his mouth than the black tide of cultists appeared and the Imperial defenders soon roared out the opening salvo. Thousands upon thousands of bullets streamed down the lines of the cultists, slicing deep into their lines, followed by a hail of plasma fire as the plasma cannons opened up. Explosions appeared here and there as Gauss cannons fired deep into the enemy horde. Yet they still came on. Soon, they were within range of normal weapons fire, but none came. The cultists streamed over and were coming close to the lines, enough to cause people to duck their heads under the lasfire and stubbers.

They soon got a taste of Imperial technology. A loud subsonic roared sounded and a wave flashed over the plains as the field of LOTUS anti-tank mines exploded, cutting apart the cultists. Each mine was able to go through four Scorpion tanks, and would cause countless damage. Finally, those who made it through, encountered withering fire from the defensive line. Any, if at all, made it to the trenches and bases, they would be met with plasma flamethrowers, able to melt through metal in seconds.

Battle had been joined.

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In space, the fleet had no time to respond, and the stations to fire as the two ships appeared and exploded in the midst of the fleet. The consuming waves of energy destroyed eleven ships and wounded many others. It was a terrible blow, one which Jalkin did not need to have. It stirred up a hornet's nest, as the Super MAC stations turned and fired a salvo at the Chronosians, and the fleet opened up with long range weapons.

The bait....had been taken.