NationStates Jolt Archive

Countless years have passed since Ermor fell and became the Ashen Empire. The dead had spread into the seas around them, but they still found it impossible to venture into the Ermorian isles southwest of the Western Continent - but the reason for that had changed, not too long ago. It used to be because of some strange bubble which had engulfed them entirely, but now it... It was something else. But as it were, the dead did not care much about those isles, much like the living Ermorians had not cared in times past. As it were, right now, the creatures in the sea had been reanimated by the dark energies of the Underworld - so they did not feel excessively threatened by anything which may now exist on the isles.

Not much had changed within the continents during the total control of the Ashen Empire. Geologically, Ermor looked practically the same, with the greatest differences being the increased number of fortresses and other encampments in places which had not been settled by the dead before. The intent was to keep a look out for any activities which may be done against the undead upon their lands. Their magic, on the other hand, had progressed to dramatically high levels during the many years of isolation. The amount of undead beings had grown massively, in part because of natural reanimation which is caused by the desecration of the lands of the Ashen Empire, in part because of their massive, continuous summonings, which had been done for untold millennia. They had, in a sense, upgraded their armies from the rather useless longdeads and soulless to Wights, Behemoths and the like, although the longdeads and the soulless had not disappeared anywhere, and their numbers kept growing by the day, even if it were simply due to the desecrated lands of the Ermorian continents.

But it did not stop there.

They had resurrected several of the dead gods of Tartarus - some of which had lost their minds during their years in the dark pits of Tartarus, tortured for millions years longer than the Ashen Empire had even existed within the realms of the living -, brought forth the Harvester of Sorrows, as well as Anthrax, the King of Bane Fires and many others, all beings of great power who were more than willing to help the servants of the Lord in this realm. Not to mention their willingness to leave behind the constant suffering they had been subjected to within the Underworld.

Far above, sensors watch the odd geographies of Ermor dispassionately.

The ships descended, slowly, aiming for the Icarus station in earth orbit... The fleet carried millions upon millions of tons of raw materials, to be refined and used on earth... They were the entire fleet of the Lunar Refining Corporation.

Of course, they were important. Very important... For they would prevent LRC from being taken over by Cerio IntP.

And so far, nothing, no pirates, quite literally nothing had disturbed them...

But suddenly, something happened....

No one could tell *why* it happened, it just... happened.

and slowly, they were descending towards earth, missing the Icarus station... Further descending... into the atmosphere...

Of course, the ships didn´t have a crew, and their human cores... well, they would likely survive the whole thing...

The ships, well, there it was different. Although they *could* heal themselves... It would take a while, and it would be very, very expensive, bringing them into orbit. It wa more likely that the remainings would be used for... something else.

However, the heat they felt... the pressure... it was painful. Very painful, and they screamed, their minds screamed, it was a scream so scary, no one hearing, feeling it would be the same...

And they descended into... something strange.

There was nothing but darkness, nothing they could see...

And then they crashed.

Although they had done a lot to make the crash less massive, the damage was bad enough.

Six vessels had been entirely destroyed, not the slightest chance to repair the vessels. Six more could be repaired, but they couldn´t regenerate themselves without outside help... the other twenty- four were lucky, and would just need time to recover.

So far, it wasn´t too bad, with a small, but relevant exception...

The place were they had landed.

Caractor had been lost in sheer boredom for many millennia, plotting schemes which increased in sheer insanity every year in his Ermorian Citadel. The Censors had been quite obsolete in the supposedly continuing growth of the Ashen Empire after the fall of the Eastern Continent. They were, for some strange reason, unable to enter the depths of the sea. No one could quite explain it why - Caractor was sure that the Lich Queen knew, but she was unwilling to answer his question.

But all that changed that one fateful day, when he was watching the sky, which was blacker than the blackest obsidian he had ever seen. He saw some strange, illuminated balls of light drop onto the lands of the Ashen Empire. Many thoughts travelled through his tired mind. Maybe it was an attack? Maybe some faction within the Empire had finally begun its uprising? Maybe the world was coming to an end?

But he could not go forth and make sure what it was, as it were. He had certain problems with his corpse. For too long had he only sat and pondered about the future of the Empire, of himself, of the grandeur he would attain... One day. Indeed, he knew could not go there himself, so he ordered many of the the Dusk Elders who had been summoning beings in his Citadel for possibly thousands of years, to do this for him. Of course, they accepted his orders with vigor. Any change in their age old routine was seen as worth it. They also took a group of priests and Spectators with them.

Once they had left the Citadel and, after many hours of searching and becoming increasingly frustrated by their inability to find what Caractor had described as simply "massive", they finally managed to find some of the objects Caractor had been speaking of. And once they had indeed found them, they could only feel a certain feeling of amazement. Those massive... Things in front of them were... Or had been alive. The effects of the unholy desecrated lands of Ermor had began to turn them to undeath! Some of them seemed to be badly damaged, so the Spectators were forced to cast the very same spell they would cast upon the massive carcasses of some kind of elephant-like mammals to bring them back as the feared Behemoth upon their rotting corpses, and these damaged objects began to take similar shape as the rest. But, as was the case with real Behemoths, keeping them intact would require all the magical powers of a Spectator, practically making them unusable for anything else but keeping these objects intact.

The Dusk Elders were curious as to what those things were. Extremely curious. So, they probed them with rituals of the astral path of magic, the path of magic which was the most abudant within the Empire before the Fall. They found a huge mass of mostly worthless materials within them, but there also were something that peaked their interest. There seemed to be a single human in every single one of them. Not only that, they had already died and embraced undeath. Thus, the Dusk Elders knew that something magnificent had crashed onto Ermorian soil.

One of the Dusk Elders attempted to contact the human core of one of the objects.

"Who are you? What is your purpose here? What is that thing you are in?"

Several Black Servants came to Caractor and told him about what the Dusk Elders had found. Something that had been... Alive, and had by now embraced undeath, as everything does in the barren wastelands known as Ermor. At that instant he felt a burning desire, something he had not felt since he spearheaded the conquest of the Western Continent. At that instant he knew he wanted to see it for himself. Could this finally be what they have been looking for for so long? He wanted to see them. Now. More than anything, he wanted to see them. He would have to move. It did not matter to him how hard it would be. And anyway, only by moving would his dead corpse begin working as it did so long ago.

He left the safety of his Citadel with a great legion of Wights and Knights of Unholy Sepulchre, and they began to march towards the direction he had seen the objects fall to. It would take much longer for them to march there than it took the ethereal Dusk Elders and Spectators who hover instead of walking, but it is not like they care much. Unlife makes time meaningless. They would reach the place in due time.

Maybe, just maybe those things are the answer.

It had been painful... And strange. Although they hadn´t yet witnessed what exactly happens when one enters the atmosphere... the gravity well...

Well, it hadn`t exactly been what they had expected. And then they had felt it... Their life... had been taken from them. Yet, they weren`t dead... or perhaps they were, but still, they could do... stuff.

It took a long time, but finally, someone came. Someone was there...

Which was good, since they couldn´t leave the ships... they were imprisoned in their cores... And so, they had felt the way the ships were dying. Their extended bodies... They felt them dying, rotting, weakening...

"Who are you? What is your purpose here? What is that thing you are in?"

"We are..." The few that replied (A couple of them were just too shocked to do anything) hesitated, not knowing it, not remembering it... But slowly, their memory came back. Feeling the people out there recovering their bodies, they answered. "We are... were... coming from the moon... and then... something happened, and we crashed on earth... In an unknown territory... You don`t know what this ships are? You don´t know interplanetary vessels?" They were surprised, to say the least. This had to be some strange place...

"We are... were... coming from the moon... and then... something happened, and we crashed on earth... In an unknown territory... You don`t know what this ships are? You don´t know interplanetary vessels?"

"Interesting. Let me see this for myself."

The Dusk Elder chanted something. Suddenly the thoughts of those within the objects became open to him, and he took, from each and every one of them, pieces of what this one had told him. Of course, this did not mean removal of those thoughts, only that also he now knew what they meant.

And now he knew, in a way. These things were infact ships, but not those they had used themselves. No, these were not meant for seafaring. These were for spacefaring. They must be the answer they had been looking for. The answer as to how to spread undeath outside the Continents of Ermor. He sent these thoughts, these memories to the other Dusk Elders and to the Spectators that were with him. Now they all knew.

And he told to each and every one of the cores of those ships: "Now I know. Empty your cargoholds. Empty yourselves from all supplies needed by the living. Dump everything they would need. The space shall be used for something else from now on. I shall command the undeads in this area to help you if needed."

--

Caractor and his legion had finally reached the place, and he commanded the Dusk Elders to tell him what they were. When they told him, he was more than pleased. Yes, they could use this. He asked the Dusk Elder if they could be used right now, as to test them. He said they would be. They would use fire elementals in them it to work as a source of fuel, because they had no known source of what the original owners of those things used. Those elementals turn into Bane Fire elementals in Ermor, but that could not be helped. Several of the Dusk Elders would have to come with them, to keep up the spell of fire resistance on the ship, to bring more Fire Elementals when needed and to see that no one attacks the ship.

Even before Caractor had gotten there, one of the largest ships had been readied for launch. The Dusk Elders had anticipated that he would come. They had seen much trouble getting it ready in the hours they had, but as they were within the dominion of the Ashen Empire, it was not exactly very hard for them. The wights and the knights of the Unholy Sepulchre boarded the ship after Caractor. After them came the Dusk Elders, who took their positions, and began casting their spells. The Spectator had been there well before the others, keeping the ship's undead parts together.

"Launch the ship," the Dusk Elder said to the Spectator, who in turn sent a thought into the mind of the undead core:

Launch. Launch now.

"Now I know. Empty your cargoholds. Empty yourselves from all supplies needed by the living. Dump everything they would need. The space shall be used for something else from now on. I shall command the undeads in this area to help you if needed."


They were... confused. They didn´t remember their past, their employees, their homes...

This source... this source of demands, of commands... It was necessary for them. What else could they do? They couldn´t move, they would just rot. Obeying was their only real option...

And so, they obeyed, and drones, now turned undead, but still controlled by the cores, emptied the ships, creating some sort of artificial mountain near to the place where they had crashed.

Still, it took them a while, hours, many hours, but eventually, the work was finished.

Which was, incidentally, when the order came.

Launch. Launch now.

And the ship, a behemoth, 330m in diameter, launched, slowly ascending through the atmosphere, the heat of it being painful... but with the assistance of the magic workers on it, it was able to sustain itself.

The core... dead as it was, enjoyed it, being here, and it could hardly wait leaving the field of gravity, to be free... finally free... again.

Still, the experience was also strange...

But finally, finally the men that had entered it`s rotten, magically sustained body, could see earth from orbit, a large sphere, just like the ship itself, just much, much larger...

This is where I belong...

The undead creatures within the ship felt the gravity grow as the ship had begun its ascent, but they did not seem to care about the fact. And after a while, as suddenly as this increased feeling of gravity had begun, it came to an end. They watched through the darkened windows of the ship, and what they saw was... The still bluish planet where even the great continents of the Ermorian empire are located, growing ever smaller as the ship progressed towards the darkness of the void. This was the answer they had been waiting for, a method to spread with haste, and everywhere, anywhere they would wish to. Some priests of the unholy Ermorian faith had come with the legion, and these priests had chanted their unholy chants all this time, within the confines of the undead vessel - by the time the ship had exited the Earth's atmosphere, they had desecrated the ship's interior entirely.

Caractor watched the planet from one of the windows as well, deep in thought. He thought many things, but after a while, he began to speak. "So, that is what the place we have existed in for all this time looks like? It looks... Strange. Weak." He stopped, his mind falling back into deep thought. But are there any places we could go to? Ahh, yes. "Spectator, tell this ship to go to the Moon of this Earth. We shall begin there."

One of the Dusk Elders had gone to the Lich Queen and told her of the ships. When the Dusk Elder had told her everything about the ships that had crashed into Ermorian soil, she immediately ordered the Dusk Elders, Arch Bishops, Wights, Knights of the Unholy Sepulchre, Censors, almost everything she could use that were in Eldregate to gather into one spot outside the unholy city, so she could take them there as quickly as possible. And they were also to take as many magical gems of all kinds with them. She knew that they would be of great use for the Ashen Empire, and she knew that one of them were already in use, so she knew that they could be used. That is how they would get there, to space, but they would not use elementals. They would use the children of Anthrax, the one who is the King of Bane Fire. They would work even better than the elementals, as their fire will not extinguish.

She created a path through the Stygian Paths, and because of her sheer power, not even one in the Underworld even tried to stop them. Not even one of the undeads who followed her were lost, which was highly unusual with such a massive group.

It only took minutes for them to reach the place through those paths. The largest ships, the broken ones, would be repaired quite quickly with the augmented power, and soon all the ships would be in working order. Then they would board those ships with as many undead as possible, place many magical gems in them as well, and after they would leave the planet, seek a place they could rid of the living.

The ships that had not been damaged were ready for launch, filled with undead and their magical gems of various kinds. The ones that had become damaged on impact to Ermor were also ready. So, they were now only waiting for the ones that had been practically destroyed during impact. The damage on those had been massively severe. They were slowly regenerating back to shape, if one could call it that. They were also the largest of the ships, so it was absolutely obvious that repairing them would take the most time. The ships were marked with two Ermorian flags on opposite sides, just because it had been customary to somehow mark one's ships when Ermor was alive, although the only ships they had used before only sailed the seas.

The broken ones would come in later, as the ships began to launch one after another. They would, possibly, wait for the rest up there.

The Lich Queen would not leave Ermor and enter the space ships. She knew that they would not be exactly safe, and her existence was bound to the dominion of the Ashen Empire. Even though the ships now were that dominion, they still would not be safe for her. No. Once they would touch down to some distant place and desecrate the ground there, only then would she go anywhere. Etimmu, the ancient Wraith Lord would take her place as the commander of that fleet.

After most of the ships had been successfully launched to Earth orbit, quite suddenly, the ship that had been going towards the Moon changed its course and turned towards Mars with maximum burn. One other, much smaller ship followed it. The rest remained in orbit and would wait there for the remaining few of the fleet.

It was because Caractor had spoken, not with words, but with his mind with Etimmu. The Dusk Elders that had stayed in Ermor had created a strange chart, one they called a "star chart". It was something they found out from the cores, rather accidentally too. When they gave it to Etimmu, he realized that it would be better to go for a more farther target than the Moon. Moon is small. And also too close, too many beings were alive on Earth. It would be too hard to extinguish life on the Moon.

Jupiter, Saturn and their moons would be too far. Venus, Mercury, too hot for the time being. If they wanted to go out and turn other planets to undeath, Mars would be the closest, best candidate.

Now all the ships were in working order, even the larger ones that had taken a massive amount of damage. Those were filled with Banes and Bane Lords, unlike the other ships that were full of Wights and Knights of the Unholy Sepulchre, without forgetting the Dusk Elders, Spectators, unholy priests and magic gems. And it did not take too much time for them to be launched into the orbit.

But where would they go? Two ships were already going to Mars. Should the rest go there too? Or should they spread around Earth? Attack some unsuspecting nation of the living and turn it into a part of the Ashen Empire? One could say that they had too many options to choose from, so, for the time being, they would remain in Earth orbit.

--

Caractor's ship and the one that had been assigned to follow them were closing in on Mars. That small dot was growing larger, if not quite as fast as they would hope. Even if time did not mean much to them, most of them had not done anything of this sort for too long, and they welcomed the possibility of slaying more living creatures. Their hate towards the living had only grown as time had passed. And they would drop down to Mars and start their work soon enough.

Finally, they were close to the planet. Apparently its orbit was crowded, much like that of Earth, but they were not there to see the sights. They would soon start what was required of them. Any place within the sea that was shown on the map they had found, any place that was not controlled by anyone would be a perfect spot. They went in closer all the time, and soon they were in orbit. Caractor found it strange that no one, not even one ship had shown any interest towards them. Maybe this all was just an elaborate trap? Or maybe the living had just become too proud, too arrogant in their imaginary might.

They began their descent towards the northern sea, and they were aiming for the center.

And already they were there. Under the sea. In the depths. There had been ice in their way, but it was nothing. The ships had already vanished into the Stygian Paths, and they were on their way back to Ermor through those paths. They would be on their own for now. But it did not matter to them, not the least. Caractor had put a ring in his finger, one that allowes even his kind to go under the depths of the oceans.

They had much to do. They needed to collect all the gems that had been dropped into the sea with them. That would be left for the Dusk Elders. The Wights would build a mighty Fortress to the bottom of the sea, one from where Caractor would command them. It would be too easy to find them if the priests were allowed to spread the unholy dominion, so instead they were to give strength to the builders.

When everything would be ready, they would begin planning what to do next.

(OOC: Click here (http://s4.invisionfree.com/The_Planet_Mars/index.php?showtopic=88). That is where they touched down.)

In Earth orbit, an object 144 meters from it's farthest ends, closed with the orbiting vessels as it continued it's decades-old orbit; the Kanuckistani orbital weapons platform was angular and well maintained despite centuries of service, sporting several fairly new multi-terajoule pulse lasers, and no less than 50 nuclear-armed multi-role missiles of wildly varrying yeilds.

"This is Tthe Satalite of Love #69 to unknown sensor contacts," the automated message tightbeamed to the nearing, recently-reposessed undead ships, for no living soul walked her crampt halls to give the warning, save the ocasional maintaince crew, "You are currently occupying my orbital path; please divert course to avoid colision."

Still, tho devoid of the living, there was something decidedly... odd, about the satalite; a field of tweaked reality encompasing it tightly, pervented the 'supernatural' from manifesting within it's radius, or persisting; not a force that could be resisted, but a fundimental state of being; intangible in all but it's effects. It would be, prehaps, if they could sense it's effects, the Ashen Empire's first encounter with a Kanuckistani ASPEW field.

The ship went out of the orbital weapon's path with no problems. Etimmu knew that they could not remain there much longer. Someone would notice them soon enough. They needed to leave this place. The sooner the better.

And then it struck him. He was watching the star chart, trying to find something they could use. There were these strange rock formations all over the Sol system, and in some of them he saw things that had the words "Relay/Supply Station" written to their side. He asked the Spectator to ask the core what they were. He was told that the ones he was looking at were meant for mining, but they can also be used to build ships. In that instant, he knew exactly where they would go. He looked for one that would be off the rest, one that would be most remote. And he found it.

The whole fleet began to move its new destination. A Taraskovyan station, "Orenburg". That was where they would go. It would be far, but it would also be worth it. That is, of course, IF they are able to take it over.

[OOC: Fluid time involved. :) ]

http://img26.photobucket.com/albums/v77/Namellar/Orenburg.jpg

Orenburg Relay/Supply Station,
Kuiper Belt.

Class: Groza-2
Ownership: Solar System Mining Conglomerate
Population: 3’500

Everything was as usual. ISTC convoys were coming in for supplies, taking some goods and ferrying them off. Deep inside the asteroid, slaves were working. The SSMC often used slave workforce, often ‘recruited’ in very, very poor nations. They cost nothing and nobody would ever bother to go and find out what was going on in a rock in some distant corner of the system. Orenburg was just one of the myriad of Groza stations scattered throughout the ‘accessible’ portion of the Galaxy, owned by a variety of Taraskovyan corporations. So just to say that the last inspection by Central Authorities happened… quite a long time ago. The SSMC paid its taxes and fulfilled its obligations. The Central Government left it and its stations alone.

- Attention Orenburg, this is ISTC convoy O-17. Requesting approach vectors and clearance for docking.
- ISTC Convoy O-17 you have clearance for docking. Begin approach on vector… …
- Understood. We are… euh… what the hell!?
- Convoy O-17, what is wrong?
- …
- Convoy O-17. Come in. Come in.

But nobody answered. The officer on duty quickly dispatched an alarm signal. The fighter patrol nearest to the station was immediately dispatched to investigate at coordinates given…

Etheriality had its perks. Etimmu sat on his steed and his steed stood upon the exterior of the ship he commanded. He was waiting for the small fighter craft to come. Dusk Elders waited with him, and even more of them hovered around the ships.

Then he saw them. He pointed his finger upon them, muttered something that would no one would hear, and the fighters just disintegrated, almost as if they had never been there. And he was content.

But that was not all.

As they rapidly closed in on the station, several of the Dusk Elders casted their spells upon it, causing parts of it shatter. The cores of the ships had told them of parts they would need to destroy, critical points that are present in most stations of this sort, and those were the places they hit. Commsystems, defensive systems, several others needed to be taken care of. They also destroyed several walls in the process, as to make it possible to enter the facility with ease.

Although they were able to take out the defensive grid out quite quickly, they did not survive without some "losses", as a few of the ships were ruptured and the Wights in them were taken in by the station's own gravity. Those Wights then marched into the facility. Everything would be over quickly enough...

Orenburg Relay/Supply Station,
Kuiper Belt.

- Main defensive systems offline!
- Commsystems offline!
- Outer Hull breached!
- Inner security perimeter breached...
- Secondary defensive systems offline!

To make a long story short - the situation was R triple D. People did not understand what happened to them. They seemed to have done everything properly. And yet... the enemy was everywhere. And so fast, it could not be normal...

***

- Ouh... yeah, baby! Shake them!

The corporate administrator of Orenburg was in his luxurous apartments. More precisely - in the huge jacousy, along with several representatives of the female sex. Little children be spared of the knowledge of what that woman was shaking the moment something ugly literally came out from between the two shaking whatever-they-were.
Nobody had the time to even squeak a semblance of yell. Indeed, they were already dead. At least, all of the occupants of the jacousy weren't breathing any longer.

As for the rest of the station, things went quickly. The security resisted, emptying clips after clips and tossing grenade after grenade. It did give some results, but the 'living' resistance was like a small rock in front of a tsunami - it was washed away as the undead progressed further into the station's interiors.

It was soon over.

The station was quickly taken over, and the unholy priests had chanted their prayers. The dead began to rise, their thoughts twisted, their minds perverted. They were now loyal to the Ashen Empire. And their knowledge of the station would come into use.

The gems that had been in the ruptured ships were taken into the station, and the rest of the undead who had not been lucky enough to actually hit the station were retrieved. The broken ships, although damaged, could still maneuver somewhat.

After doing all that, they knew they would need to take the station elsewhere. They had enough ships, and the place was on an asteroid, so they chose to tow it somewhere. Somewhere safer. Somewhere far away from this place.

And so, the Ashen Empire now had a mining station, capable of building ships. They would now be able to begin spreading all over the Galaxy, to bring undeath to all.

From the now undead personnel of the station they learned many interesting facts. They already had found out that the living use rapidly firing, massive projectile weapons and containers with as much explosives to make it seem like a Fire Ball, but now they also knew that they could apply those onto their ships in this facility, if not on the ones they already have, on the ones they shall create with this facility.

But that was not all they had found out. These living also used smaller, handheld projectile shooting weapons, and they had learned had the distinct opportunity to create such weapons for their own armies. This meant that they could greatly enhance the destructive force of their great legions. Apparently the living also use some strange armors, but the undead were not interested in those. They would build ships to transport more of their legions and weapons to arm those legions.

They had quickly left the asteroid field and were headed to the great unknown.

Etimmu thought that they had gone far enough by now. The asteroid was slowed down until it came to as complete a halt as one could ask for. Just when that had happened, the station came alive and began its normal operation, mining ship materials. Several ship designs had already been made during the trip, and based on those they began building them. Not all of those ship designs could be built inside. The defensive grid was being repaired. A new design was also made for the handheld projectile weapons, on the fly, and they began manufacturing those as quickly as they could as well.

Etimmu ordered five of the smaller ships to be emptied of magical gems and that those should be put into the station. The ships that had been damaged, no matter how badly, were to be repaired, so that they could be used to bring in the materials here they had unloaded in Ermor. Apparently they were not worthless after all.

The amount of beings in the station had at least quadrupled from the time it was under Tarasovkan control. It would take some time until they would have a usable fleet of ships. The Wights would have to learn how to use those weapons somehow. But time is on their side.

On Mars, the underwater fortress was well under way and the Dusk Elders had collected the gems into one place. Caractor was highly pleased. Everything was going according to the plans he had made. Actually, they were going even better than he had first thought, as he had not taken to account that there might be winter on Mars, and Martians do not seem to keep the ocean open. They would be able to build there, undetected, unseen and unhindered. All that they needed to do, for now, was to build the fortress.

The Dusk Elders had found a way for the Wights to circumvent the need to learn how to use the weapons. They would force the knowledge out of the dead minds of the undead who had used such weapons when they came to this place, those who tried to stop them from advancing through the halls of the station, and place it into the mind of every single Wight. Yes, that would be the easiest and the quickest way. They had already manufactured some of the weapons. They were infused with dark runes of undeath, so that the undead would be able to focus their hatred through them, and the projectiles would burn with bane fire. If anyone alive tried them, they would act like any other weapon of their kind.

Some of the smaller, armed light transport ships, ones built in more a freighter-like fashion than those transport ships used by the living they had been building were already complete. Bigger ones would take time to finish, but were coming along quite well. They had detected no problems there. Everything was going as expected.

--

Mars:

They had realized that the sea was not quite deep enough some time ago, so they had been building a great part of the fortress under the seabed. Only that way it might avoid detection. Much of the fortress was still to be built, but it was forming nicely.

:tag:

Six of the original ships they had found on the lands of the Ashen Empire were commanded to leave the station and seek new prey, new ships, new outposts to take over. They would be to stay away from places they know are defended as based on the star charts they have acquired, and to avoid larger concentrations of ships they knew and did not know of. The undead relied upon the fact that the ships would seem uninteresting to the living. Dead derelicts floating in the darkness of space. The ships would move and act in pairs; one would be a large ship and one would be a small one.

Etimmu chose to remain in the vicinity of the station, even if he had the opportunity to leave it for the Dusk Elders to be taken care of. The undead would have to create a beacon of some kind, to help the ships coming through the Stygian Paths to find their path to the station without actually emerging inside it. That is where the unholy priests come in, as they know of such. Desecrating the space itself was not an option. The only option they had would be to build a massive circle that would act as a "gate" of sorts.

"Where are we off to this month?" The Junior Lieutenant asked the Chief Engineer/Cargo Master Richard Shield. "We're on the Charon Run, along with another transport...the Fortune Hunter I think." The Lt Jg. nodded his head and helped with the loading of the last cargo containers which were marked food stuffs and proceeded to go down the checklist. The crew of sixteen each had several jobs which were assigned to them. On such a small ship everyone could do everyone elses job in a heartbeat if needed. On the bridge Lieutenant Commander Yvette Johnson watched her display as a green light was given from the cargo area. "Alright folks, cargo is loaded, helm, ahead two thirds. Com,signal the Hunter and tell them to form up on our starboard aft. We're going with them as far as Mars and then we're alone on the rest of the trip."

"Aye aye Skipper, all ahead two thirds, setting course for Waypoint One, next stop the asteriod belt."

Picking up her clipboard she read over the ships manifest and cargo. "Food stuffs...computer parts...rifle repair kits...and SA-43 spare parts..What the heck are we carrying military junk for? Doesnt the military have its own transports?" Said aloud to no one in particular. Aboard the Federal Star was always an air of informaility, the merchant marines held rank in a much different aspect from the other branches of the service whenever it wasnt an emergency. The helm officer was the first to speak up, "Well, they said in the news, the navy was using its transports solely for the Earth-Mars routes now.Least thats how it's been since the war and all.." "Well I wish they would build more transports and carry this stuff themselves...I'm glad they arent making us carry anything that could actually blow up. Knowing the military though that'll probably change soon enough."

Aboard the Fortune Hunter the cargo was completely different, they were a modified cargo transport similar to the Federal Star however,designed to carry passengers as well.Capable of holding 50 people comfortably and 200 in wartime; they carried only six people this time, a small team of military scientists who got bumped off a navy shuttle to Mars for a platoon of Marines going to support the military forces on an ever more hostile Martian surface. Its regular cargo hold were building supplies and computer equipment for the civilian sector of the colony. All in all it was the typical cargo trip, one which had been made by both vessels hundreds of times in their long histories.

The KHGV Student Driver, an Dark Valor-class 'frigate' some three hundred fifty meters in legnth, plyed the depths of space on a routine 'shadow hunting' partrol; little more than wandering off the beaten paths of the Sol system with the goal of loging whatever activity some of the countless nations may be endevoring upon in the inky depths.

An over-guned, over-powered, and heavily armoured beast of war, she was never the less easily adapted to patrol duty; much of her ECM gear swaped out to permit the augmentation of her already-potent sensor suite, and two thirds of her 120 Daemon's Base class unmanned multi-role interceptors swaped out for dedicated recon-varrient models; flying a thousand-kilometer across formation around their parent ship to create a massive, networked array of sensors; active sensor emmisions that were nearly impossible to miss or hide from at the same time. Regaurdless, her IFF beacon remained off, while what remained of her ECM cloaked her true identity...

OOC:
I'll let you decide what it runs into, if anything; you're guys seem to have a sort of 'manifest destiny' attitude, so I figured running into a hardened warship would be interesting. And yes, like the platform, it too has an ASPEW field.

SSMC Investigation Detachment,
Kuiper Belt.

- I am positive, Sir, it is gone.

The captain of the frigate was staring at the spot where, normally, the Orenburg should have been.

- I do not know, Sir, it is not there anymore... Yes, I have dispatched fighter patrols to investigate... There are a number of debris here... Yes, I have ordered for them to be recovered... Of course... Yes, Sir, at your orders. Should I alert the TSF? Good, I won't then. Yes, have a good day, Sir.

The captain turned off the uplink and sighed.

By freak chance they found The NYNJian transports in a rather quiet part of space. As they had been told whilst leaving the station to seek new prey, the two ships in that area would attempt taking them over as quickly as possible. So, the Dusk Elders once again found themselves hovering over the ships' outer hulls, as they closed in on the transports.

Everything should be over in a short while. They were ready to begin.

"Captain we got an object on the scope...oh wait nevermind its gone...running a diagnostic on the system right now. It was probably just a glitch.." Yvette nodded her head to the LIDAR Officer and yawned as she was about to finish her third cup of coffee. Aboard the Fortune Hunter a similar incident had occured however neither ship believed the other would have registered anything. The Dyson class transports were nearly 70 years old and were constantly breaking down and malfunctioning. So while both transports picked up the contacts neither one contacted the other to confirm the identification.

Aboard the Fortune Hunter Lieutenant Commander Dalan was just stepping onto the bridge to take over from the nightshift. The crews generally worked in shifts of 6 to 8 to ensure that everyone got sleep before getting back up to work again. It was a tireless shift of work and sleep with little time for play between. The only thing that was a saving grace was the pay. Merchant Marines were paid rather well compared to the other branches of the service and got more time for vacation due to their longer and slower trips. However all that wouldnt matter soon. As soon as Lt. Comander Dalan sat in his seat a loud thunk could be heard throughout the ship. "What the hell was that?" The LIDAR officer turned in his chair and looked back toward the Captain, "I'm not sure Sir.I'm not picking up anything on the LIDAR." "Communications, get me the Star and see if they can tell what the heck is attached to our hull..." "Captain we're being jammed...I'm not getting anything.."

Similiar events played out on the Federal Star. On the Fortune Hunter alarm kaxlons blared and the normal lights went out with the red combat lights coming up. "Status report?!" The helm officer looked over on his side panel and checked, "Captain we've got a hull breach in the cargo area, deck 1." "Get repair teams to that area, and find out what the hell is going on. Then get me the Federal Star...I want to know if they're dealing with the same thing."

When the two undead ships closed in on the transports, the cores of their undead ships had detected some towers that seemed to act as their sensor arrays, and the Dusk Elders swiftly disintegrated them. Because of this, they could go in even closer unnoticed. They had some technologically crude comm. jamming systems in the ships now, which seemed to be quite effective against the transports.

But they still were ships. The undead chose to use the same system to attach the ships into the ones they were to board they had used while towing the station out of harm's way. That way, they could bring themselves even closer to the ships, and the undead who would enter them would not have to take the risk of being forced to float in space forever.

And that they did. First, the towing cables were shot off at the transport ships. One transport for each undead ship, they thought. Although their sizes were not even, the undead were certain they could take those ships. Then, the Dusk Elders casted more spells and breached the hull, quite close to the points the cables had hit. As the ships went closer to their targets, the Wights began to leave the ships and float towards the transports, towards the holes in them to be more exact.

Before anyone could even get there, many Wights had already entered the ships and begun their march.

Fortune Hunter:
"HULL BREACH! DECK ONE-CARGO AREA!" The engineering officer called over the ships internal communications channel as he monitored the ships status screen. On the bridge the helm officer picked up the same thing but something more, "We got unknown lifeforms in the same area." Dalan looked worried, they were being boarded. Standing up he hurriedly moved over toward the window and gazed out of the bridge viewport toward the Federal Star. "They're being boaded to! For the love of god I dont believe it..." Moving over toward the internal com array Dalan pushed the button for engineering first, "Cheif handout weapons to your people, we got a boarding party to deal with. We're losing atmosphere in the cargo hold so dont leave the engineering section.." "Gotcha Captain. We'll be ready for them."

Afterwards he pressed the button for the passenger quaters and attempted to remain calm, "Boarding parties have entered the ships on deck one in your area. We're gonna need help getting them off of the ship, give us a hand guys." The six grunts had been lounging around when they heard the first thud, and then the kaxalons. They were in combat gear now and were waiting from instructions to be given. "Simple trip to Mars they said...we'll be there in no time they said...this isnt no time, damnit, this is the worst time. OKAY YOU GRUNTS YOU HEARD THE CAP'IN, GRABS YOUR RIFLES AND PREPARE FOR A FIREFIGHT!" Leaving the third deck messhall they moved over toward a nearby ladder and began to slowly climb upward heavy assault rifles at the ready.

Throughout the transport the crew armed themselves. The chief weapon of the Merchant Marine had been for over two centuries the M3A6 Grease Gun, which had gone through multiple incarnations. Looking exactling identical to the original subtle changes had been made. The gun could now be fired in automatic, or semi-automatic, and the clips had been extended slightly to allow for more rounds. Aboard the Federal Star the exact same events unfolded. The crew braced themselves for the oncoming fight however they lacked any support from the army. They were on their own for this battle.

The Dusk Elders were there to command the Wights. Many of them, a hundred or so in both ships, were given commands to walk through the very first door-like thing they could find. That they did, and began to march deeper into the ships on the lowest level. In the rather cramped corridors of a space ship, they were forced to walk in three lines, but it could not be helped.

The rest, on the other hand, were told to wait until the area has been properly searched. And the Dusk Elders had been quite wise in doing so; they found stairs and ladders to higher levels of the ships. Because they were uncertain as to how many levels there were in the ships, eight hundred Wights in both ships were commanded to climb into the higher levels through the stairs. Two hundred would stay in the level they had reached and begin to spread throughout the level, whilst the rest would go on. Some Dusk Elders and priests would follow them.

They did not know how many living creatures there would be within the ships, so they chose to go in with as many as possible. Who knows what secrets these ships hide within them. Even more would be sent in if the living would resist successfully. But as these ships were undefended, it would be quite likely that they are not too well defended even internally. The Dusk Elders were content with their chances.

Tag...

Back on Mars, a strange feeling of uneasiness was growing within Caractor. And he was not alone with that feeling. The Dusk Elders and the priests felt it too. As did the Wights. There was something fundamentally wrong with this planet. The living could not feel it, but the undead could. It was not fear. It was the strangest feeling that something... Something was displaced somehow.

The planet was not meant for the living nor the dead to tread upon.

That they could feel. They felt that the sooner they left, the better. The sooner everyone would leave the planet, the better for them, but as only the undead knew of this, they would laugh at the living from their dark chambers and await their doom. But that would only happen if they left this planet themselves.

Although the fortress was quite well under way, Caractor ordered the Wights to stop it and destroy what they had built. He told the Dusk Elders to finish that job. After that, he told everyone to pick up as many magical gems as they could carry, and one of the Dusk Elders he told to open a way into the Stygian Paths. Which he did. They found their way to Ermor quite quickly. They had removed all signs, all evidence of their existence before leaving.

And so, the undead left Mars, only after being there for a short while.

The assisted targeting system aided the soldier on point as he lifted up the rifle and squeezed back on the trigger of the Devestator. Letting loose a torent of 20mm rounds down the small hallway. The group of six soldiers had encountered the first of the undead soldiers on deck two in the cargo area. However there were reports from around the small transport of things cutting into the walls attempting to get through to other sections.

"Over turn those tables! Quick!" Shouted one crewmen as they moved to barricade the enterance into the engine room. On the bridge a different situation was taking place. The remaining crew of 12 had gathered on the bridge with all the weapons and ammo located in the forward part of the ship. They would make their stand on the bridge and not engage them on multiple decks. Lt Commander Dalan was nervous the internal sensors were showing dozens nearly a hundred multiple contacts,and even more entering the two transports by the minute.

"CONTACT!" Said the lead soldier as he fired his assault rifle down the hallway toward one of the armored undead. Moving quickly forward and to the side to allow a second soldier to come up, the hallway lit up with tracer and gunfire sent down the hallway. "Multiple contacts on Deck 2 Sarge, we're gonna need help." Called the Lance Corporal over the unit comm, however the Sargeant responded rather quickly with, "Listen your gonna have to make due where you are, we've got multiple contacts on Deck 3, and we're trying to mop them up right now."

On the Federal Star, the cargo area and the lower decks of that same area were eriely silent. Nothing was there, and no sound was heard. The crew of the Star had done exactly what the Fortune Hunter was doing. They had set up barricades all over the forward part of the ship with the crew mess area being the temporary base of command. The bridge having been demeaned undefendable. From the command area they could hear the rumble on the decks coming from the cargohold.

On the Fortune Hunter, the Wights had been advancing to all directions. All but a few. Apparently the living were resisting at some points. And in some of those points, the resistance was quite heavy. The screams of the Wights losing their unlife echo in the minds of the Dusk Elders, as the massive bullets go through their armor almost as if it was butter. On the second floor, only a few were lost before the rest realized to fall back to a safer location. On the third floor, a small advance group had met with the rest of those... Heavily armored ones, and they were annihilated to the last one, whilst the rest stayed out of the sight of the living.

The Dusk Elders did not like this outcome. But they were sure the ammo of those beings was limited, much like it was when they had fought against the living in Ermor. Even the ones within the station they had taken before had this one shortcoming. Although weapons have evolved much since the times of the Ermorian conquest, they still have ammunition to run out of, much like the longbowmen, the crossbowmen and the common archers did. And those shots were physical after all. They were not energy shots. That they knew when they saw the truly dead bodies of the Wights from a distance. Those cramped corridors did not work well for the undead.

What does one do to deplete ammunition? The Dusk Elders had several options. Letting the Wights run at them and die again was not a viable option at the moment. So, they, two Dusk Elders on both decks, summoned phantasmals and false horrors to distract the living, and also evil spirits, things of that sort. The Phantasmals and the False Horrors only hurt those who believe in them. But it is hard to not believe in things you see with your own two eyes, that was what they relied upon. But one thing was certain. This "modern" armor which the living use, truly, seemed a lot better than the armor the undead used.

There were others who were slowing down the undead advancement, but they were not quite as dangerous as those few they had met in the most unlikely of places. But even if they were not as powerful, they had barricaded the places they were in. It would take time to go through all of those barricades. And, unless they removed them all equally, the Wights advancing into the areas controlled by the living would leave themselves open for an attack. So, they would see that at least two Wights would always be able to go through the barricades as they breach them.

On the Federal Star, the undead advanced unhindered, to a point. As they had gone through all the other places, they had begun to find their way into the crew area. Which was barricaded very thoroughly. Going through those would take time. Other than that, they had taken control over much of the ship, and the priests had began to desecrate the hallways, the rooms, everything the undead controlled.

"Several intruders down on Deck 2...the rest are pulling back..." Came one report from the soldiers aboard the Fortune Hunter. "Intruders on Deck 3 have been wiped out. " Another report which was sent to the bridge. So far so good, what is what people believe. The intruders had been mostly confined to Deck 1 in the cargo area. A certain false calm has washed over the ship. The ship was still moving forward with the unwanted attachment. The Federal Star however was slowing down, and even turning in an attempt to head back toward Chimera Station in orbit over earth. However in the midst of her turn the intruders managed to get through to the engine room.

"Open fire!" The shout from the chief engineer inside of the Federal Star shouted and then the clacking noise of the Grease Guns filled the engine room as they concentrated fire into the breach. However the smaller caliber rounds didnt do as much damage as the heavier army rifle. So when the four engineers saw that the bullets were not putting down the intruders they began to back slowly up toward the power core unit. Two barricades had been set up. Overturned table both barricades but it afforded them some protection against the oncoming hordes as they laided down a base of fire directly into the enterance which had been made in the door.

Aboard the Fortune Hunter things were much more quieter as everyone waited for the ghouls to make the next move aboard ship.

As the Federal Star turned, the ship that was attached to it tried to stop it moving any further. This strained the cables very much, but they held their ground anyway.

On the Fortune Hunter the Dusk Elders ordered the Phantasmals, the False Horrors and the weak evil spirits to attack the armored ones, but before they went int, the Dusk Elders chose to throw fire balls upon the living. Two of them against both small groups, and then the multitude of ethereal beasts were released upon them. That should distract them, make them use their ammunition. In other parts of the Fortune Hunter, the undead had found their way through many obstacles and they kept closing in on the crew of the ship, the ones they now knew were more lightly armed than those who they had encountered. They could feel them already. Feel their presence, and their fear.

Within the Federal Star, the undead had finally found them. The ones who would be easily crushed beneath the heel of the Ashen Empire. The crew of the ship. Unholy priests behind the Wights chanted their unholy prayers, after which all the Wights flashed with a purple light, which disappeared as suddenly as it had come. As suddenly as that light had come and disappeared, the Wights began to act with greater precision, with greater speed and greater power. Obviously, they would be close enough to the living, close enough to tear them apart, soon enough.

Aboard the Federal Star the engineers slowly began to give, one was cut to shreds while another fired away upon the oncoming Wights. The Cheif Engineers ran toward the intercom and pressed a button to call the bridge before he fell.His last words being, "The engine room has been breached, we cant hold them anymor..." The cheif engineer was cut to shreads and fell to the ground a bloody heap of flesh which was partly attached. Seeing that they were being given no quarter the last two of the engineers held behind their barricades bullets blazing. CRounds expended faster than they planned, it was no longer about aimming as it was killing as many as possible. A futile thing to accomplish as the enemy was already dead. One of the engineers guns immediately jammed and instead of waiting to die he threw himself into the fray and attempted to go hand to hand. A fatal mistake which lead to his immediate death at the hands of the wights. The land crewmember had debated using hand grenades to hold them off but all of the Mk I Plasma Grenades were located in the forward part of the ship. And even then, no amount of grenades would have been able to help the lone crewman. Click-click-click, the sound of the hammer striking nothing as the last of his bullets were fired. His death would come shortly after that..and thus the engine room of the defense of the engine room collapsed entirely.

The six soldiers aboard the Fortune Hunter were trained in psych warfare, and therefore when the spirits first showed up, they werent to sure what to make of the things. The first things they tried were to actively fire upon the appiritions, but when it was seen they were doing no damage,they treated the ghosts as mobile holoprojectors of some sort. Nothing to be feared. Such was the pace when science overtook magic in some areas. The fireballs smacking against the power armor, the soldiers barely felt the heat. Instead they moved to regroup on deck 3. They'd attempt to make their way to the forward command area with as much equipment as they could take with them.

The Federal Star came to a complete stop, as the junk above it slowed it down. The command area of the Star was contemplating surrender, but with the last of the known human life signs extinguished, that was immediately ruled out. They would make their stand on deck four, just outside and inside of the messhall.

As they realized that the ethereal beings did not work, they chose to use something else. Since they apparently now thought that ethereal beings could not hurt them, the Dusk Elders casted the spell Body Ethereal upon the Wights. The Wights would then run over to them, no matter the cost. That etheriality would only be partial, but still, it should be enough to make the living believe in what they think they see instead of believing in what is truly about to happen. Besides, they had great numeric might over the six. Every time they had shot, their probability of surviving even one more minute had dropped. And every time they would shoot, they would lose even more. It was all only a matter of time.

And then that was done. The Dusk Elders brought their spells upon the Wights, and screamed into their minds that they were to advance upon the living. The priests did the same, giving them strength to fight. Losing their unlife would not matter now. No matter how many of the Wights would "die", they would kill the armored ones. And the living were also mobile now, which would give the undead an edge.

From all the paths they had made through the walls, and through the stairs and the ladders, the wights began to advance quickly on them. The Wights were filled with berserker rage, nothing would stop them. Except the fact that they were not to completely destroy the armors. The Dusk Elders wanted at least some of them mostly intact. And if the Wights would not be able to kill them, the Dusk Elders would make sure that they die.

In other parts of the Fortune Hunter, the undead had begun to see glimpses of the crew... Soon... Soon it would be all over for them.

Whilst in the Federal Star, the priests had already been able to reanimate the killed crewmembers. Some Wights had been shot so full of holes that they had simply collapsed, but no one cared of them. Reanimating undead corpses was... Impossible. One of the Dusk Elders was questioning them, asking things that would help them in their battle. They now knew where the living were, precisely. And what they would most likely do.

The undead were closing in...

The Wights wouldnt get much out of the engineers. The defense wasnt exactly a coordinated effort, as it was the general instinct of the crew to repel the invaders at all costs. As the first wights began to make their way down the ladder, toward deck four they were greated by green bursts of plasma death, as one grenade after another was tossed toward the direction of the approaching Wights. In the hallway 4 crewman were the first line of defense while the remaining eight had taken up positions in the messhall to fend off the invaders. It was only a matter of time though before the Wights developed some resistance to the grenades, and only the explosive blast hurt, no longer consumed by the heat and flame of the plasma.

"Let'em have it!" Came from the scream from the Sargeant at arms, as they unleashed .45 cal fire from their Grease Guns as the approaching Wights. Of course as more came down, they asked for assistance. Soon the crewmen in the hallway were joined by six more. The ten soldiers spraying down the hallway and corridor. Lucky shots here and there would hit a Wight in the head, simply because of muzzle climb would spray the bullets toward that general area. However it still wasnt enough to completely slow the advance and the soldiers pulled back into the messhall all together. Shutting the door and jamming the locks. They would make their final stand within the messhall and not give them any further room. Kitchen knives were passed out to each soldier in the galley, and they awaited as the Wights already began to cut through the doors of the messhall.

On the Fortune Hunter, the soldiers were pulling back into the forward command area of the ship. They were gonna help the crew in the defense of the forward section. It was obvious that this was no longer a repelling of boarders but a delay action. A delay for what no one knew. Help was no where near. The 2nd Fleet was two and half days away at the speed they were pulling and Chimera Station was only slightly closer than the Fleet. The 20mm Assault Rifles continued their base of fire down the hallway this time down the corridor on Deck 2 as the soldiers moved hurriedly with some purpose. They brought their ammo with them, and anything that could help with the defense of the ship. As the last soldier turned to leave he was caught from behind by one of the Wights who began to pull the soldier back toward the cargohold. The power armored soldier putting up a valiant fight breaking the neck of several Wights before succumbing to overwhelming numbers his heavy assault rifle firing into the corridor trying to take as many of them with him as possible.

The engine room of the Fortune Hunter was much like the engine room of the Federal Star, it fell easily to the oncoming Wights, although it had been with slightly better results than in the Federal Star. The crewman on the Fortune Hunter were slightly more experianced with their weapons than on the FS. It was due to Captain Dalan's more rigerous training that this was possible.

Although losses were great on the Fortune Hunter, they were advancing. This was acceptable. Thanks to the etheriality the Dusk Elders had given them, they were losing much less than they would have without that spell. Over a hundred Wights had fallen, and more were falling. Still, an acceptable outcome, as long as they gain access to the power armors and the other strange technology in the ships.

The Dusk Elders followed the rampaging Wights, and they began the second part of this so called plan B of theirs, chanting their unholy chants, causing fear in the last ones of living. Yes, that was the sole purpose of their spells now. To frighten them, to distract them for that precious moment that would bring them to their doom.

And what was the best for them, the first of the ones with powered armor had fallen. That one was, quickly, filled with unlife, and moved out of the battlezone. Also, the engine room had fallen, and the living had been, also there, turned undead.

On the Federal Star, the living attempted to force the Wights out by shutting the doors, which of course would not work long. The undead had fire resistance upon them now, so that the plasmatic grenades of the crew did not work anymore. Twenty or so Wights had succumbed to the fiery grenades, but the actions of the Dusk Elders had been swift and decisive. The manic Wights ran, until they were stopped by... Doors. Ones that weren't exactly of the weakest kind, either.

One of the Dusk Elders said only one word, only one word as he pointed at the doors, and they came crashing down. That word was "Crumble". The Wights ran through like madmen after the doors had come down.

Victory was soon to be theirs.

They had finally built the great beacon they needed to navigate through the Stygian Paths to the space station with their ships that had were not there anymore. To anyone else, it would only seem a great, black metallic ring with unholy runes written upon its surface, which it also was. It had no connection to the spellcasting itself, it was only built to be a beacon, something to ease the coming of the ships, something to make it less dangerous. That was its sole purpose.

To inform the others of this, they chose to place a constant guard of several of those newer, smaller transport ships they had already constructed. All of them would go through the Stygian Paths at some point, after all. Sooner or later. The undead had more than enough time on their hands, as they were immortal and unaffected by time.

The shipbuilding and the manufacturing of weapons had been well under way for a while now. Many Wights had already been equipped with modern handheld projectile weapons and they also knew how to use them, thanks to the Dusk Elders forcing the information into their minds. They would still carry their blades, but only for melee situations. It was quite apparent that the future of war was within weapons that fire projectiles, or something of the kind. The Dusk Elders saw them as weapons that simulate magic.

The greatest, the first modernization of the undead legions in thousands of years had, truly and irrevocably, begun. With all the technology they had acquired and would acquire, the legions of the Ashen Empire would only become greater.

It wasnt long after that, that the crew of the Federal Star succumbed to thhe advacing horde of the Wights. Every last crewmen going down firing off the M3A1s at fully automatic. Had the Wights been human it would have been little contest as to who would have won. However this was a completely new enemy.One which surpassed the traditional methods of getting killed. The last thoughts of the Captain of the Federal Star was that these things were genetically enhanced super soldiers. Of course it didnt matter much what they were right now. The Federal Star was now offically in the hands of the undead. The crew killed.

On the Fortune Hunter the fight was still going on with mixed results. The five remaining soldiers had pulled back to the bridge where they had planned on making a final stand with the rest of the crew. Ammo was horded into the bridge for the coming struggle. The advancing Wights would find things quiet and deserted on decks 2-4. It was when the first Wights attempted to climb the ladder to the bridge that they would find two of the Army Troopers with 20mm Combat Rifles pointed right at them blasting away until the Wights retreated. They made sure to drop a plasma grenade onto the lower deck after they were done and pulled back. They'd leave the crew to watch the ladder. The Fortune Hunter was different in several aspects. As a troop transport it carried a slightly heavier load of weaponry for the crew should the vessel be forced to crash land and the crew forced into the role of infantry.

This meant some heavier firepower for the crew, but it was mostly located in the cargo area. While the forward command area did contain some heavy firepower, the crew would wish they had more for the coming fight. A light .30 caliber machine gun was set up on a tripod just before the ladder leading up to Deck 1. Ammo for the gun however was sparse in the command deck. All of it located in the now fallen cargo section of the ship. The last 17 humans werent going down without a fight.

But as the priests desecrated the rest of the Federal Star, the captain would know better soon enough as his body and spirit were taken into special treatment with the rest of the crew, and he came to unlife, distorted and hateful. Now they would concentrate on the Fortune Hunter even more.

The Dusk Elders realized that it would be a great tactical disadvantage to enter the area only through the ladder, which was obviously heavily defended by the last living creatures on the ship. So, since the original breach had been done in the Deck one cargo hold, they chose to destroy the wall between the areas they controlled and the bridge. Much easier and neater it would be that way.

After the wall had come crumbling down, the ever growing army of Wights ran. Ran through to the last shelter the living had on the ship. They knew that this way it would all be so much easier. So much easier to bring death to the living!

Also, the undeads that had taken over Federal Star had begun to break through the outside into the Fortune Hunter, attempting to breach through its hull from a more advantageous place. They intentionally targeted the bridge, the command center that had not been taken over as of yet. They knew where those areas were because of the now undead crewmembers, who had been quite useful. Soon, very soon it all would be over.

The undead had chosen to place one of those lighter ships they had built into Eldregate, as they lacked any current methods of communication. As the ship was already in place, they were now able to intercept transmissions that traverse the world. And they already had received many, many transmissions, although the system had been up for only a short while. The living seemed so careless, so confident of their security, that they did not seem to care much about who receives their messages.

How wrong they were.

The Lich Queen had a direct mental contact to the Dusk Elders who kept the system operational. And she laughed. She laughed at the foolishness of the living. She laughed at the great wars that ravage the lands. She laughed at the ones who call themselves evil. Oh, how little they knew... How little. In all their pettiness, she found them comical.

Maybe the Ashen Empire would play with them, for a while... But time is subjective, even more so for the undead. With their immortality they have learned patience. Such patience, that the living would go insane if they were to wait so long.

"They're breaking through the wall!" Came the shout from the Army Sargeant as he had taken over command of the ships defense from the Captain. The army being more experianced in combat had by NYNJ military regulations command of the situation until resolved. Or until relieved by Naval Combat Teams or the Federal Marine Corps. "Redeploy that .30 cal over to the bridge. Hurry up! Martinez take two crew members and go cover the ladder again." One of the soldiers gave a quick nod and tapped two crew members on the shoulder and moved with them out into the small corridor which led to the ladder to the lower decks. As the Wights busted down the metal wall they got a small hailstorm of bullets put right through as well as two plasma grenades.

"Shoot anything that comes through that damn breach. We arent gonna give in." The final fight had begun.

The opening to the outer wall of the bridge was... Too small. Not enough Wights were able to enter through it quickly enough. So, they chose to only make it larger. Large enough for many of them to enter the ship at the same time. The Dusk Elders casted several more spells to destroy a larger portion of those walls, after which more and more Wights flooded the bridge through that now rather large breach in the hull. The undead were dead serious about taking over both of the ships.

In the cargo hold, the hole through the wall between the cargo hold and the command center had been widened as well, to make it even harder for the living to keep all the wights out with their weapons. The Ashen Empire required those weapons, those armors for research purposes, and they would get them for their Empire, no matter what.

But the fight was dragging on, and the Dusk Elders began to become frustrated. They were ready to disintegrate the living by now, but they restrained themselves. Maybe the Wights would win soon enough. They had casted fire resistance on all invading Wights, and body ethereal upon as many as they could. There was nothing they could have done more to help them at the moment.

The ships defenses finally collapsed. The soldiers ran out of ammo, and the hull breach in the bridge sucked out anyone not wearing sealed armor. With the crew dead it was left to the five remaining soldiers. However the large amount of targets did not help and they were soon quickly overcome by the Wights. the Fortune Hunter soon fell as well. On both vessels were radio frequencies for other Federal Transports, and even the Federal Naval Frequecies. They would get changed however once it was realized both transports were missing, but for now the Wights and their dark masters had an ear into an established powers navy.

Finally. Finally it was over. The Dusk Elders felt content with the outcome. A couple of hundred Wights had been lost in the fight, which was acceptable. Now they had utter and complete control over the ships. The dead were quickly turned undead, learning what were those that had attacked them. Most of the Wights and of the Dusk Elders went back to the ships they had come from. As quickly as they could, the Dusk Elders brought about a path into the Underworld, and with a flash of black light the ships just disappeared.

The Ashen Empire now had acquired six power armors, and they would seek ways to duplicate them. But first, they would need to take them back to the station. They began to navigate through the Underworld to Ermor. Apparently the ships they had taken over were still in perfect working order, although they had been badly damaged. This was what they had wanted to do, anyway.

But then a ship hailed them. There, in the Underworld. The beings in that ship told the newcomers that it was now possible to go straight to the station, and they showed them where that place, that beacon would be. Apparently they had finally created something that would make it possible for ships to go to the station without any danger of emerging inside the station itself.

The two ships they had taken over changed course and went for the station, disappearing into the darkness of the Underworld. The ships that had worked as transports for the undead continued to Ermor, to replenish their gem supply and take in more Wights, as many had been lost during the boarding operation. Then they would go to the station as well.

When the ships had reached the station and gone back to the realms of the living, the power armors were hastily taken to the station for inspection by the undead engineers of that place. The undead who wore those armors did not like much the idea of them losing their armors, but did not object. They knew that finding out how those power armors are built would be much more important for the cause of the Ashen Empire than their own, personal distorted "feelings" are.

The engineers knew what they should do to those things. If the undead were to use power armors themselves, reverse engineering would be the way to do it. They took two of the armors and began to tear them down, writing down everything they found and did. Everything.

It would take a while until they would have enough information to create power armors of their own. They had the manufacturing systems meant for the creation of light Tarasovkayan armors on standby, ready to begin building anything which data they would feed to them. As soon as the undead would learn the secrets of those armors they would begin building more of them. Then all that would be left is equipping their armies with them.

Now that they had enough knowledge of the power armors after basically dismantling two of them, they began manufacturing them. The four already existing ones were repaired and given back to four of the undead troopers. The weapons they had used had been reverse engineered with the power armors, infused with unholy runes and they had begun manufacturing them with the armors. Also, the power source of the armors was changed into a bane fire, which can come from the undead itself, or from an elemental being of bane fire. The metal on the new armors was black as night, as the suits of armor of the undead are.

But it did not take long for them to realize that the armors were too expensive, resource wise. They chose to build a hundred of them anyway for the Censors. The engineers began to design a cheaper version for the Wights. Something that would not be quite as massive as the NYNJian power armor, but would still provide good enough protection.

It took a while, but then they had it.

They came up with something of a crossbreed between the power armor and the light armor designs that were in the Tarasovkayan computers. Black in color, as the others. Some of the parts of those were primarily decorative, as they did not require oxygen to survive. The weapon they would use is the one they had already begun to manufacture for the Wights.

All they now needed to do was manufacture them. Most of the building lines were diverted to build those armors instead of the massive ones for the Censors, as the undead would need more of them than of those more expensive ones.

(OOC: All this was done with a quite quick pace, yes, I know. Mostly because the RP with NYNJ took quite a bit longer than I thought. I would've done this much earlier had it been faster. But now, this is it.)

OOC:
Would you like to raid another freighter?

Caractor left Ermor by entering the Stygian Paths with a Dusk Elder and few Censors. Right now, all he wanted was to go to the station. He was the Arch Censor after all, and he wanted to be the first of his kind to wear the new power armors. The armors are built for them, as the Dusk Elders had told him. Only Censors would wear them. Only his underlings would be allowed to use them.

The trip was quick, and he found himself with his companions within the station. The Dusk Elder who was with him knew the place, and he guided Caractor and the few Censors who were with him to the assembly lines. The walk within the station took longer than walking through the Underworld, and the undeads there seemed to be repairing the last damages caused by their entry to the place.

And there he found it.

The first of the hundred was already complete, even the weapon was there, ready to be used. One of the original troopers they had turned undead was there, waiting for the Censors to come and claim their armors and the Dusk Elder forced the information as to how to use it into Caractor's mind.

Now he knew.

Caractor put the black armor on him, and he took the weapon into his hands. He had never seen anything quite like it, and it amazed him. As did the suit itself. All that showed of his old gear was his purple cape, which was slightly affected by the gravity of the station, and it did not float freely. The unholy enchantments had been a good addition to it. Caractor could feel power the raw unholy energies surging through his body.

--

The situation was different with the Wights, as the massproduction of their suits had already begun and many of them already wore those under their full helmets and plates of armor. To cut down the strain all the manufacturing of things would cause to the asteroid, they chose to begin using the mobile mining ships that had been just sitting around uselessly in the station. They had also begun to bring the raw materials they had dumped onto Ermorian soil from the original space ships that had enabled them to leave their frigid home.

As more and more of the power armors built for the Censors became ready, and the group of ten that had come with Caractor already had been equipped with those, Caractor began to think that it was time to leave this place, and seek... Nothing in particular. Anything that would cross their path. He asked for two ships. Two ships only.

And those were given to him. Two station-built transport ships. One of them was a rather small, light transport, of which kind they already had several. The other one was first of its kind, a large, Ermorian built transport ship. The largest of the transports they had built themselves anyway. Both were black as the night itself, but they looked rather practical in design, nothing fancy. They were built to contain as many undead as possible.

The ships were designed with several facts in mind: The undead do not require food, to breathe, entertainment... They only need a vessel to transport them. So, one might think that they are less transports than they are freighters. This allows them to place many more Wights and other undead, magic gems and now also ammunition to those ships. They, of course, utilized this fact to the limit.

Caractor floated into the larger ship through space and boarded it. He had told the Dusk Elders how to fill the two ships. The light transport would be used mostly as a support vessel, so in it would be placed only a hundred Wights. It would be filled with magical gems, and most of the ethereal undead would also stay there. The larger ship would be used to transport ammunition and the actual legion of Wights. Thousands upon thousands of Wights boarded the ship. Very little space was spared.

It did not take long for everything to be ready, as per to what they now consider normal procedures, most of the required supplies had been put in place beforehand. Everything was ready for launch. Caractor said the word, and they began to float away from the station.

--

The Ashen Empire had advanced much technologically, quite quickly to say the least. Their technology had advanced from ancient Rome level to highly advanced spacefaring tech. Their duty had not changed nor had it been forgotten, the hate burning in their dark souls still was present. The Dusk Elders were, now, mostly satisfied with the level of technology they had reached. Soon, very soon, would come the time for them to begin, once again.

The Lich Queen had thought it was time to do something they had been preparing to do, but did not do so many years ago. It was something they had thought of when they slayed the living from the continents of Ermor and turned the last, surviving bits of land with living things upon them into barren wasteland. The living had attempted to ally themselves with someone whose exact opposite the undead had found, but in the end, they chose not to go with the plan. It would have been pointless, after all.

She knew that the undead would not need them and that the Ashen Empire would have to deal with them in the future, she thought it would be... Amusing. But until that day would come, they would be of some use for the cause. They would help the Ashen Empire in their quest unwittingly. She laughed, and her cold voice echoed throughout the halls of the Citadel. The irony of it all...

She would send someone to that place, to the place where they had had an unholy priest waiting for many millennia. Someone she knew she could depend on, but the one would halso have to be expendable. Someone with high rank, but not high enough.

Caractor.

But she did not know where Caractor was now. A direct link would be impossible without knowing where to seek. She contacted Etimmu instead, and she was lucky. Etimmu knew where Caractor was. She told her orders for Caractor to Etimmu, who would relay it to the Arch Censor.

After that, all she could do was wait. It would all depend on Caractor's skills now.

(OOC: Yes, this was posted after the thread this post concerns. Here's a link to that thread: Click here (http://www.nationstates.net/forum/viewtopic.php?t=138344)!)

In Giltheran the lands of Ermor where ever watched, they had lost over a thousend of their Kin when the Undead rose on those lands, and they had lived in fear of an attack ever since.

No attack had ever came and over time the fear had faded, now a small outpost kept watch under the seas while the people went about their work. The message then that the undead had made it off world was slow to arrive at the Palace of Souls.

'This is Dire news, our one remaining advantage had been the Spelljammers and now they have the beasts of Metal.. hmm Council I propose a need to construct Ten new Spell Jammers urgently, do I have a second?'

'Indeed my lord'

'Excellent, I also propose the construction of a full Fleet to secure the seas of Giltheran, and an Expeditionary Fleet.'

'Agreed also'

'Contact the other nations as soon as possible, I suspect many of them do not know what it is they face, it may well be that our expertise will be needed in this matter.'

In the Palace of Souls in Giltheran, a small group of Dusk Elders appeared after a great flash of black light. They laughed coldly at the elven king. They knew everything.

"Do not interfere with something you do not understand. And beware, as our vengeance shall be swift and decisive if you are to act in ways we deem treacherous."

They stayed there, in all their horrid glory. Their ethereal bodies were quite hard to see, but that is the only boon of their existence for those who are forced to behold them.

The response to the presence of the Dusk Elders was quick first a squad of guards closed round them, of course they could do little against undead, but then they where confident they would not need to. Githras sat in relative ease throughout the threat then stood and walked towards a window, pointing out across the bay. obviously intending for the Dusk Elders to join him.

'We do not fear your people, nor do we care for your threats. Look down there and you shall see our weapon not the statue itself not the Gaurdian, but the image on the Gaurdian was craft in, the image of Correlon Larethian, lord of the Seldarine, our God's. Look upon the Gaurdian a moment Undead beasts and take this message back to your master.'

As he spoke the Mammoth statue that had stood one leg on each side of the bay the City had been upon turned and saluted the king and then strode into the seas for a few steps before turning back and standing once more in it's place.

'Take this message back toyour Masters, we do not fear your kind, nor do we fear death, oh and one more thing, Mel'Sharis if you'd be so kind'

A Grin broke over one of the many faces in the room, anyone watching closely would notice the Bealnorn advisors stepping behind the man carefully, and then he turned to face one of the Dusk Eldars placing himself so that he was the only one that would affected by what he was about to do. 'Tell your Masters not to send any more messenger's to the Palace of Souls or this shall be the fate of all they send'

Mel'Sharis raised a symbol before himsel;f and smiled again as he prayed to his God's and the light of his faith broke out before him, A Sword seemed to appear in the air before the Dusk Elder and struck at him, the physical manisfestation of his God's.

((Obviously Mel'Sharis is turning undead, it's up too about how powerful the Dusk Elders are, Mel'Sharis could destroy a Mid level Undead, or make a High level one run in fear. I should also point out that Mel'Sharis can do this because he is one of my most powerful Clerics. (Thats why he is in the Council) In my top 5, and the faith of the Elves is one based on actions and actual faith more than rules, so it's hard to fake your way into the top))

His ethereal body did even budge from the power of Mel'Sharis's attack, which just crackled with many white flashes, harmlessly on the "skin" of the ethereal Dusk Elder.

The one he had attempted to "kill" just laughed. It was a twisted, evil laugh.

He hovered close to Githras, and he spoke.

"So far from the truth... So far. Did you actually think that we were not prepared for your magic? We know what your priestly caste is capable of. Even your best cannot hurt us... As you have seen. You might not fear death, but death is a boon. You will only find undeath."

One other of them spoke.

"Your 'god' has no power here, magical beasts. Not in the realms of the Ashen Empire, which you live in. You shall only find your deaths here, if you defy our will."

The one who had spoken first spoke now.

"I shall say it once again... Do not interfere with what you do not understand. Our vengeance shall be terrible if you attempt to deceit us."

They would not leave, nor were they terrified. No, the undead do not know fear.

(OOC: Antimagic, resist magic, amulet of antimagic and Protection of the Sepulchre. And they're ethereal. That's how he pulled it off. The white light came from a spell called astral shield. Of course, the sword hurt him some, but not quite enough.)

((Ermor I need to speak with you on IRC, I question this.. so I want to hash it out on IRC I may accet it but I have my doubts. I'll try and make iut on tommorow (Wednessday) at 7.30 GMT if you can.))

Not much had happened ever since Ermor had taken over the NYNJian transport ships and begun manufacturing weapons and armor. They had just brought more and more Wights from the Earth-side realm of Ermor to the space station to be equipped, "upgraded". This would obviously be required of them if they are to fight the living of this day. They had advanced much in that field. Magic would not work quite as well against them as it once had. No, magic alone would not be enough anymore.

The living had abandoned the old ways... And the undead must follow. To a point.

The ones who had been there ever since it had been taken over were ready, as were the armors of the Censors. Which meant that they were now manufacturing armors for the Wights at full capacity of the station. Light transports had been sent here and there in pairs, to scout space, to raid more ships, to find planets to turn to the path of undeath. Although they now thought they had high enough technology, the Dusk Elders required more knowledge of the areas they had found star charts of. But they would do this ever-so discreetly, so that the living would not find out of their existence. Not until the time would be right.

--

The Lich Queen was rather surprised as the people of the place she had told Caractor to go had not reacted to his and his troops' presence. At least it gave them more time to prepare, but... What she had heard of them was apparently untrue.

And she laughed.

If they where surpised by the resitence it didn't show, rather Githras seemed to laugh. 'Oh well done indeed, you came ready for this I see, well that is interesting, Still I believe we asked you to leave... Leave and don't return, we have heard your warnings, now here mine. The next Denzien of Ermor that sets foot on my lands will fac not a turning but the full might of the Bealnorn Circle...

I doubt very much you want to deal with them, I hear they are very interested in experimenting with your essences. Githras chuckled, 'Oh but what is a threat unless I prove myself able to back it up.'

as he spoke he nodded this time the Bealnorns stepped forwards two began casting, the first a simple dispel magic to weaken the protections on the chosen Dusk Eldar, moments after that spell had been launched the other Bealnorn finished. This was High magic he used...

As the spell hit it began it's work, the magic of the Elves was split into Nine Levels of complexity, but beyond that system lay high Magic, although it settled into the top three Levels, it could only be cast here in Giltheran due to the tree, raising it's power to a new level.

This arcane spell sought out the undead essence of the Dusk Eldar and sought to return it to life, restore it's body and it's pulse. Although that in and of itself would not harm the Dusk Eldar, the guards where ready for this event, and in anycase, it was not ment to harm the creature, simply give the Undead pause, give them a taste of what they faced in these small Isles.

"Ah... Interesting... I can feel that a body is forming to me..." said the targeted Dusk Elder. He was turning corporeal! "Alive"! A dead spirit in a living body! He looked at his hands, and he laughed. They had never expected to get this from the ones who lived in the isles of Ermor.

"Foolish mortals! In your folly, you have given us the boon of life in unlife! You want action instead of words, yes? Very well. Let us demonstrate our hatred to you. You obviously do not understand that we are more serious than you could ever imagine, and that you cannot win."

The Dusk Elder, now a man, slashed his arm through the air and pointed his finger at one of the guards. His hand disappeared in a burning black light as he stated a single word...

"Disintegrate."

The two others did the same upon other guards.

After this, the living Dusk Elder spoke up again.

"We grow weary of your petty banter. Heed our words, foolish ones. Do not interfere with something you do not understand."

He then disappeared into a flash of blinding white light.

"Yes, heed our words. Or death awaits you."

The two others, the ethereal ones, disappeared in a flash of black light.

When the Dusk Elder who the Giltherans had turned into a corporeal, living being returned to Ermor's capital Eldregate, it wished for its own death. After a while, it came to realize that it could not die, no matter how much it did want to. It had somehow turned immortal. Yes, it... He was now not only a living, breathing human, he was also an immortal one. Or at least there he stood, unaffected by the dark dominion of Ermor. When his undead spirit had merged with a living body, something strange had happened, and, whilst his connection to the Underworld had become weaker, the body he now possessed had also lost a part of its connection to the lands of the living... The Giltherans had given the undead a great boon in their ignorance. It is something the undead would use to its fullest.

He teleported to the Lich Queen's throne room, to tell her of this great find. The Lich Queen, while hardly pleased of this sudden appearance, quickly realized that what she saw was no ordinary man. No, in fact she could still feel the presence of a Dusk Elder within the body.

"I remember... I sent you to warn the magical beings in our isles of our wrath if they are to betray us... Yes... What has happened to you, Dusk Elder?"

"I am not sure, but apparently they know how to turn undead into living beings. But they had not taken into consideration that we are different from those they had possibly met before. And now... I am here, unaffected by the dark energies of the Underworld that is always present here. I am immortal. Alive, and immortal."

The Lich Queen pondered for a while.

"This means... That we can finally summon the Ether Clans! We can finally bring up the Arcane Nexus! We can begin using the astral planes once more! Such great folly of the living... But such a great gift for us."

The living Dusk Elder nodded.

"Now go, and bring the Ether Clans to serve the Ashen Empire!

"Very well, that I shall do. Fare well, your excellency."

And so, the Dusk Elder disappeared in a great flash of white light, which incidentally caused the Lich Queen to feel dark pain within her dead soul. But it was gone after a moment.

She laughed, and her laughter echoed through the halls of the Ermorian Citadel of Eldregate... Only the dead could hear her laugh there, and no one alive had ever heard her laughter.

The Lich Queen was pleased. Everything continued on going on the path she had chosen so long ago, and everything was coming along as planned. The Ardans were apparently taking the bait, letting the undead "join" them, and the legions grew every day. The amount of ethereal beings had begun to raise, which had also been expected. And the dead C'tissians had begun to awaken, only to strengthen the already great armies of the Ashen Empire. But their priests use different unholy chantings, which was... Unexpected, even if it is within acceptable limits of things, as their chants have the same outcome as that of those of the Ermorians.

But sometimes, something happened, something that she had not intended to happen, nor had even thought of yet. But this event was not one of the bad ones, not exactly. At least for the undead. Something extraordinary happened.

The King of the Shade Lands had come through the Gate in Eldregate. The weakest of the Lords of the realms of the dead, but also strangely the most important one he was, as all the dead must tread through the Shade Lands, the wastelands between the realm of the living and the Underworld. As the Dusk Elders realized who had come through, a few of them went forth and greeted him, and one of them had gone to inform the Lich Queen of this.

The King was escorted by the Dusk Elders to the throne room of the Lich Queen, who had learned of his arrival only seconds before he came there.

The Lich Queen spoke, if not of malice, at least of discontent. She had not thought that he would come, not yet at least.

"Tenebrus... Why are you here?"

Tenebrus looked at her, watched her. A dead corpse she was, her eyes burned with bright red, and her clothing... Purplish... Blue... Lich Queen they call her. Yes, he now remembers her... Her passage through the Shade Lands was a quite quick one, but he still remembers.

"So, you were made Queen of this... Ashen Empire. How fitting. Ermor, your old Empire, the Empire that fell... And now you are the ruler. The ruler of what came of it."

He gestured to the Dusk Elders to leave. They did not even budge, until the Lich Queen did the same.

"Thank you, Lich... Queen. It is you who rule this land, yes... And as I have come through the gate you rule through the will of the Lord of the Underworld, I am now also bound to you, as are my great armies. I knew there was a price to pay, for me, as I ordered my armies to march through the Gate. We, of the Shade Lands, who have marched to the realms of the living, are yours to command, Lich Queen... Of the Ashen Empire and the controller of the Soul Gates."

The Lich Queen let out a chilling laugh.

"Very well. Let it be so," she said. "We were in the need of great leaders after all, as the great commanders of the Ashen Empire are already in place."

She became silent for a moment, and the color of her eyes turned into a brighter red. The Dusk Elders soon came back to the room.

Then the Lich Queen spoke again.

"But... Go, now. I shall tell you when you are needed."

Tenebrus nodded his ethereal head and left with the Dusk Elders.

The Lich Queen was left alone with her dark thoughts. This was not something she had thought of. A wild card, but at least it had a positive outcome for the Empire. The spectral beings had been coming to Ermor ever since the dark gates had opened when the Holy Empire fell, but she knew what this meant. They were finally, truly, coming.

After bringing the Ether clans into the fold of the Ashen Empire, the living Dusk Elder had been given a new assignment, to see if the living would... Sell to the undead, if they used a living face. He had found out about an auction somewhere outside of Sol, in a place called "Epsilon Pegasi", and he had thought that it would work perfectly for this test of theirs.

And so it did.

He was quite excited as he told the Lich Queen of what he had accomplished. All they would need now is a few ships to carry the payment, after which they would begin... Searching and building things to that distant place. The Lich Queen was surprised of the great greed of the living, but it would work well for the undead.

Yes, the Lich Queen immediately assigned five dark ships they had built in the station which was led by Etimmu, and those were filled with all kinds of treasures they had kept in their coffers for as long as Ermor had been undead. The ships were left untouched by their deadly dominion, as the living might realize their dark secret if it were placed within them.

The ships were crewed with power armored Censors and the only living man in Ermor went with them. The ships were filled with breathable air, to make them seem more... Alive. The armors should hide their dead bodies quite efficiently, and they were quite confident that the Vernii would not even care of their looks, just as long as they give them their payment.

The general coordinates of the system were punched into the navigational systems of the ships, and they jumped. They chose to use the alternate method of moving faster than the light itself within the realm of the living, the method the living of the station they took had... Given to them.

Other ships were prepared for departure to the areas they had... Won. They wished to make a presence there as quickly as possible. They would turn the moons to their dark dominion, and a single Citadel would be built upon them both. They had also, at some point, manufactured parts to create a second station, like the one they already had, and they now had a location to build it to. The asteroid field would work perfectly.

Each of the five ships that had been sent to pay the Vernii whatever they wanted had also at least two priests and a Dusk Elder in their crew, and some Wights, as the Censors were not really quite enough. They were the ones that were showed to the Vernii, and apparently they had worked quite well, as the Vernii had already taken their payment and let the five ships leave.

And those five were the first to arrive in those new Ermorian grounds, to the moon of Enceladus to be more exact. The others were only waiting for the ones there to give them a beacon, a beacon to go forth to the system of Epsilon Pegasi, and to spread on the newly... Acquired Ermorian grounds. The moon had strange, black formations on its exterior, which was something they would exploit to its fullest.

As the ships touched down upon the moon's black parts, the priests went out and began chanting their unholy prayers, and the climate there... Did not change all that much. And this was yet another of the perks of undeath, as there was, obviously, no oxygen on the moon. It was a cold, barren wasteland before they had found their way there, and that did not change. It would seem practically the same as it has for as long as it has been there, at least as long as they only desecrated the black areas. One of the Dusk Elders brought about a great tower into the center of this unholy land of death. To the center where the spreading had been begun.

Eternal night came upon those places they desecrated.

The others now saw the rather distant beacon in the darkness of the Underworld, and began moving towards it. In the very first convoy they had everything they would need to create a station in the place they were going to, and then it would be... Mostly independent, as it would only need more bodies from the mainland.

But there was a question of who to put in control of this new place. The Lich Queen had already assigned Etimmu to the Sol station, which still needed his presence, and would require it for quite some time. Caractor was controlling their colony in Arda. So, who would that leave?

Tenebrus, the Shade King?

No.

She had heard that there was one other. One other they could use as a leader of a distant "colony". One who was not of Ermor as such, although his small kingdom had become a part of Ermor only moments before the Empire fell to undeath. Yes, there was Alcastos, the King. The Forgotten King. And he would be the one who shall be sent to command the new Ermorian lands.

Lich Queen ordered him to be sent before her, which was done swiftly. No one still sane enough wants to feel her wrath.

She gave him the orders she had made for him. He concured, bowed and left. That was it. Alcastos would now be the lord and commander of the new lands Ermor had acquired from the living through their own means. By buying them.

Insanity! The living are afflicted with greed!

One of the pitch black ships that were carrying more undead for the new... Colony had stayed back and waited for the new leader to arrive just outside of Eldregate. When Alcastos reached it and boarded it, it quickly disappeared in a flash of the blackest light. Not only was Alcastos to be their leader there, but he now was already on his way there.

Many ships had arrived to the desecrated moon through the passageways in the Underworld. The ships carrying building materials and everything else needed for the new station would remain there until a suitable asteroid would be found. Eight ships, all what they would call "light transport ships", would go and scout the two zones of asteroids they now had control over. Four per both "lots" they had. Four ships left for the other moon, Leda. All of the ships had an unusually high number of unholy priests, the undead knew that they would need to finish this as quickly as possible. The moons would be under the dominion of the Ashen Empire in no time.

Some priests came out of the ships that had stayed on the moon of Enceladus, and helped their brethren in desecrating the last remaining parts of the moon. Alcastos was one of them. Alcastos the Forgotten King he was now called. He had been a potent priest in his life, and he was now quite potent in things unholy. There had been a few Dusk Elders on the moon before they had arrived, and now the amount of them had risen to a dozen. All of them were in the newly erected dark tower that had taken a great amount of elemental magic gems, chanting their spells to protect the moon from any living trespassers and to bring more beings there, to help them in the dark quest that they had not yet started in its full force.

Patience was something the undead had learned during their millennia of almost complete isolation.

The moon had been desecrated so greatly before the newcomers had had an opportunity to work on it that it only took a while for them to finish the process. The priests slowly went back to their ships, but Alcastos went to the tower. Yes, that tower would work as the place where he shall stay until the station would be complete. Then he would relocate. But for now, everything was proceeding smoothly, even more so than they had expected.

The living Dusk Elder who calls himself Xirrath now, on the other hand, had already left back for Ermor. He still has much to do, and he knows that the Lich Queen has things to say to him.

The four ships were now on Leda, and they were all as far from each other as they could. The priests had come out of them and began to turn the moon to the Ashen Empire's dominion, to make it unholy, hostile for the living. The Dusk Elders left the pitch black ships only moments after the priests had done so, but only one of the Dusk Elders created a tower onto this moon as they had done on the moon of Enceladus. All the Dusk Elders upon the moon began to hover towards the newly created Tower, and that is where all of them went. They had told the Wights to bring the gems from the ships that were upon the moon to the Tower, to ease their own work, which was to begin as soon as they would reach the tower. They themselves only had the necessary amount of gems on their person.

On Enceladus, the Wights on the ships had transferred the magical gems and the items the Dusk Elders had brought from the ships into the Tower, as they had been ordered, after which they had only returned to the ships to wait further instructions. As time had progressed, thousands of mindless undead had been brought to the moon from Ermor, to roam upon its barren exterior.

No one alive would come there, never. They had made sure of it. The mindless undead would destroy them.

They were already in the asteroid fields they now controlled, also. They knew what they were looking for. Finding it should not be all that hard. After that, all they would need to do is begin the final stages of their... Project here.

Darkness had fallen upon Leda as it had onto Enceladus before, although the change in truth was only nominal. Too far from the sun of the system they were to ever truly be lighted, only true change in them was that the living shall now age quickly whenever they attempt to tread on them. The Ashen Empire's grasp was now permanent on the two, dark moons of some nameless gas giant in a system called Epsilon Pegasi. Black Servants were sent through the Stygian Paths within the Underworld to inform the others of this great success. Only the station now remained, only it needed to be assembled within the asteroid field the undead controlled.

And what had they found in the part of the field they had claimed? At least not what they had been searching for. No. But they had found something else. A few ships, derelicts. Dead. Floating in the darkness of space. They had boarded them. Brought life to the few corpses they had found in them. They made enough repairs to them to make them operational. Not much was required, and it was done quickly. The ships would not be able to shelter anything that is alive, no, they were too badly damaged for that. Their weapons had been ripped apart, their armors broken. But the undead did not care. All they wanted was to find anything of use... Anything of any other systems that are controlled by the living. And of course, ships that can at least maneuver are always of great use.

And they found more than they had expected. Much more. Not only was there a map of the empire's that had owned those ships holdings and its neighbors, but there were also many other maps... Starmaps of nations that they had had any contact with in their pitiful lives. Apparently, unlike the ones they had met before, these did not care much of the security of their maps. They even had names of the nations that controlled them upon those starmaps.

This was a great find for the undead. Whatever information they could find from the wreckages was quickly taken back to the moon of Enceladus from which they found their way to all around the Ashen Empire. Quickly, the information had flooded all over the Empire, and they now knew much more of the habited galaxy than they had before... So many there would be for them to kill... So many to turn to their side.

And so much would have to be done. The undead realized that the living have spread much more than they had anticipated. The Lich Queen had not thought it to be possible, but apparently... Apparently it was so. They had chosen the right strategy, the right tactic against the living. Yes, so they had done.

They finally found it, an asteroid large enough to assemble the new station on. Some work would have to be done, yes, some rock removed from it, but other than that, it seemed perfect. One ship remained there, stationary, close to this great find. One other left to inform the others on the moon of Enceladus, where the freighters awaited. The alien wreckages they had found in the asteroid field had been taken to the station in close proximity of Sol, so those would not be seen in Epsilon Pegasi anymore.

The ship returned to the moon's location with haste, taking the fact that its place had changed a bit into account. Instead of coming down to the ground, one of the two Dusk Elders upon the ship simply sent a transmission to the ground. That was all that was needed. The freighter-like ships lifted themselves off the moon as quickly as they could, and waited for the informer to lead them to the asteroid. Alcastos heard of what was happening, of course, but did not bother to relocate there himself yet. The station was only to be assembled right now. He had chosen to wait until it would be finished.

The ship turned as fast as was possible for it and led the way to the asteroid, where the other ship, which happened to be yet another light transport ship, had been waiting all this time for their arrival. The trip was short and uneventful, as mostly everything had been in this new place. The living had left them alone, which was quite fine for them. Then the ships unloaded their cargo and all of it was placed as close to the asteroid as possible. Then they began to assemble the station onto it, excavating when needed, doing whatever was necessary to do it.

The final phase had begun.

Deep in the asteroid belt, very nearly forgotten, there was a rather... artificial object that any number of groups would find very valuable. Decades ago, it had served as a small watchpost, with minimal crew and scientists, and even earlier, it had actually supported a fairly large population, as well as a small but productive shipyard.

That shipyard had built quite a few of the ships that were still in the area or docked to it, all just as dead and empty as it had been for at least 50 years.

The station itself had been built near the end of the first Imperial Survey, which had gone out to attempt to find what scientists called "transit points", or areas of subspace instability that denoted the presence of a "thread," linking two systems together.

When the station was built, the system only had one transit point, and it was the recieving end of a thread originating in a system that Kajali called Kaarel.

Kaarel still had an active outpost. Peraan-Alpha, as the Kajali called it, had been officially shut down 42 years ago.

Black ops teams had maintained the slightest presence on board it, making sure the station could be restored to operational status... if Kajal ever wanted to go back to it.

Most of them still wondered what they had done to get assigned to it.

Their small cruiser, a top of the line 3rd generation ship itself, had been hidden in the shipyard facilities, among incomplete hulks and frigates and cruisers that had been left at the station when Kajal left.

In the command center, the panel beeped as the courier ship transitted back into realspace, and began making it's run across the system to the transit point to reach the first of three research stations at the literal edge of known space for the Kajali.

Advanced weapons tech research was what primarily happened at the well hidden stations in their respective star clusters.

And nearly all of their defense depended on the fact that no one knew they were there.

The small courier ship had nearly reached the other transit point when there was... something... on the scanners for a nanosecond. It disregarded it, and blinked out of existence, entering the corridor that would carry it to the clandestine stations.

Strange. They had seen something. Something that should not have been there, yet there it was, in the darkness. What made it even stranger was the fact that it just suddenly disappeared. They had stopped looking for a suitable asteroid some time ago, as one had been found already. The Dusk Elders on the one ship that had seen this strange phenomena happen contacted the three other ships that had the same orders as they did. The ship changed its course, and it was no longer exploring for things within the asteroid field. Soon after, the three others followed. The others had been contacted with the same method. They knew that this was different. Different from what they had seen before. And they would take it.

Maybe it was a magical portal. Maybe it was done with mortal technology. But it did not matter. All that mattered was to learn more. To take whatever they had seen from the living, study it, to learn those well hidden secrets the living now possess.

The ships moved into the area of space the ship had disappeared in. They stood still, attempting to figure out just what was it that had happened in that place. What they did learn was that it was not of their kind of magic. Maybe the ship would have to return.

So they waited.

--

When Alcastos heard of all of this, he ordered the eight ships that had arrived only hours before to load and leave for the asteroid field. Who knows what else would be found from there. It was becoming too obvious that the living had advanced far more than the undead had expected.

OOC: < > denote dialogue in Kajalan.

The small courier ship had travelled to it's designated destinations, and had turned around to make it's way back to it's station of origin.

It approached the transit point, and it's jump drive powered up, emitting what could be classed as a gravitic pulse, before slipping into subspace transit.

A few minutes later, it emerged on the other side, where the undead ships waited.

<Crap! We've got multiple contacts here...>

The scan panel at the station in the asteroid belt beeped at no one in particular, as the officer in charge of that particular system was the only one up out of the twelve or so on board, and he had gone to the washroom.

The courier tried to run, headed across the system back towards the station. Meanwhile, the station's proximity alarms started to sound, waking up the other soldiers aboard. Their cruiser, hidden in the shipyard bit of the station, started cycling through the power up sequences, but there were loud clangs before it even got close to ready to fight.

Power on the cruiser died abruptly, as the eight people aboard it scrambled to get into the station, barricading themselves in areas or some of the ancient ships still docked to it.

Bringing the station back to operational status on such short notice would be impossible, but the sequence started anyways, flooding corridors with atmosphere as minimal life support went up across the board.

In the command center, a few soldiers tried desperately to get the station's defenses online.

<Crap! I can't get any power to the exterior guns...>

Autoturrets at the docking ports didn't work, but a few portable ones were quickly set up, although lacking the firepower of their older counterparts.

The group of twenty had all the entry points relatively secured, and a great deal of space to fall back to.

Of course, the fact that the station was designed to house a thousand, and instead held only 20, and was otherwise dark and deserted didn't help their morale any.

All the efforts were in vain. The pitch black ships began to pursue the courier, but only two of them shot out wires to attach themselves to it. The rest continued on to the direction the courier was headed. They had seen it, they knew. There was something there. Something the intercepted ship's crew thought they would be safe in.

It only took moments to crack the ship open and flood it with Wights, who quickly annihilated the few who were within the ship. It was all over for them in a matter of minutes. Or so they thought, until they realized that a far worse fate awaited them, as they were sucked into the Underworld, only to return to their dead corpses. Their very spirits had changed, and they answered all the questions the Dusk Elders asked them. What they had to say was interesting indeed. Two Dusk Elders and a few Wights stayed in the ship, whilst the two Ermorian ships detached themselves from it and began to follow the others, to go to what they now knew to be a station. The courier began to move again, as it went towards the areas controlled by the Ashen Empire.

They could see it now, the station, although they had known it to be a station only a short while. It had been so well hidden that they had missed it before. Curious.

They would take it.

The ships closed in on the station, which seemed to be abandoned, but they knew that it was not the case. They knew that there were only a few of those that were alive, but they still would have to be exterminated before the undead would be able to use it. They moved closer and closer. Soon they would board it, and the station would be theirs.

They were close enough to scan the station for... Entry points, and for the living. They could see that it was online, but luckily for them, the station was not yet fully operational. This had already given them an edge, as the turrets outside did not fire upon them.

They chose to board the station from its many airlocks. There were only approximately twenty living in the station, which was one of the facts they had heard from the courier ship's now undead crew. Groups of fifty should be enough, and they would be able to cover the whole station more quickly that way. The were not too picky when choosing the airlocks to enter from, as they broke them all open. All of them were disintegrated during this course of action.

But some of the airlocks had turrets defending them from within, making it very hard, if not impossible, to break through from them without losses. Luckily they had not sent anyone who could have actually been lost in the process to check it out, no, the Dusk Elders went to see it for themselves, and the shots from the turrets went through of their ethereal "bodies". At least all of the Wights had survived this... First test.

They found many airlocks that were completely undefended, and they chose to enter the station from those. Groups of Wights began to flow into the station as planned. Lowly priests would follow those groups, as making sure that the living would not be able to go behind them was quite important. Many of the groups of Wights were commanded by Censors, and those that were not were commanded by the Dusk Elders themselves.

They chose to cut the living off from many parts of the ship at first. The undead knew where they were, and they acted based on that knowledge. By doing this, they could easily stop the living from retreating anywhere if they meet them, and so that they could not relocate either. If there were others who were still alive on board that they did not know of, the living would not be able to regroup. They had begun to spread the deadly dominion of the Ashen Empire all over the station.

The undead did not attack, nor even close in on any turrets they could find, as it was not yet time to attack the living. Spreading the dominion was their highest priority for now.

They had not expected nothing to happen, but the living had stayed strangely passive all the time the undead had walked upon the station. Almost too passive. But this was only a good thing for the undead. They had already taken control of large areas within the station and continued spreading their dominion even further with nothing stopping them.

They knew exactly where the few living were on the station, partially because the undead controlled such vast areas within it. They knew that the living could not retreat anywhere anymore, they would only die if they attempted to enter the ground the undead had desecrated. When they would strike, it would be the end for those who still lived.

They had begun to disable turrets they found defending the airlocks. It was not all that hard, as turrets lack mobility, and they can be fired from safe places, behind structures that those turrets cannot penetrate. They wanted the incoming ships to be able to bring the reinforcements in from as close as possible to the places where fighting would take place, although they knew they would not need them.

The time for them to strike drew ever closer.

--

The courier ship had been taken back to the moon where Alcastos resided. They searched it through many times, browsed through the logs... And they found many interesting... Things from them. Apparently the ship had been in places the undead could pillage in the future... Places not well defended. Yes, they knew they had found something major.

After a while, the ship was sent to go to Sol through the Underworld. They would learn even more of its secrets there if there still were any. The Ermorian station close to Sol would have more resources to do whatever would be necessary.

OOC: Sorry, but the PSYC proposal took longer then I expected... ^_^;;

IC:

<Intruders are all over the place, sir. We couldn't get the smaller autoturrets online. There was a... a... glitch, I think, in the computer.>

<It's no glitch. The station was sabotaged. Emergency procedure states that you _have_ to be able to start up a station from this one's era in less then a minute from minimal power...>

<Sir?>

<Seal the command center and the quarters around it off. We've got two escape pods in here - they're big enough to take everyone out and to the cruiser.>

<Ah, aye sir. Sealing the areas...>

All around the command center and associated quarters that composed the top two levels of the station, massive blast doors descended on the decks below and in the lift shafts, sealing it off from the rest of the station.

<Bring up a shield bubble around our area. It should give them problems for... long enough.>

A small shield bubble, barely larger then the section it would protect, sprang up, halting the progress of anything that would have been advancing towards the area. It was not known how effective it would be against magicks of any kind, but it did have the somewhat helpful property of stopping anything, in the universal plane or otherwise, from passing through it.

In subspace, it would appear as an inky black dot at the top of a darkened region of bluish energy.

The commander walked over to one of the other consoles.

<Status on the ships around this station?>

<Undamaged. We can probably start them remotely from here, and tie them into the AI of our cruiser... Um...>

<Is there a problem?>

<Our ship hasn't powered up yet.>

<Transmit the codes for it to do so. We need to get out of here and warn the research stations.>

<Aye sir.>

The cruiser, hidden in the shipyard, began cycling through emergency powerup sequences, as several of the other small cruisers and frigates as old as the station did the same.

Meanwhile, the research stations suspected nothing. The next courier wasn't due to arrive for another week, and they didn't worry that it probably wouldn't arrive at all.

Even so, the Imperium had been worried about the possibility of the stations being discovered, and as of late, had begun installing new turrets on the research stations themselves.

Enough to hold an enemy at bay long enough for them to destroy any sensitive data and escape, they hoped.

It wouldn't take care of the problem of prototypes that were ready for production, though.

The Dusk Elders in the ship carrying reinforcements were attracted by the ships powering themselves up, especially by one which seemed... Quite different from the rest. Instead of bringing the undead it carried to the station itself, the Dusk Elders chose to take control over the ships with the Wights they had in it.

The three Dusk Elders hovered out of the black ship and came upon the outer hull of their ship. They looked upon the Kajal ships and began casting spells to force their way into the strange, unmanned ships that were going online, especially into the one that was utterly different. They had ignored the ships until this point because they had thought that they were too old to function anymore, but obviously they had been wrong.

After a while, Wights began to flow from the pitch black ship of the undead to the general direction of the Kajalian ships that had powered up. As long as even some of them would be able to enter those ships, nothing would stop them from taking them over.

--

The situation on the station was... Odd. The undead had taken over almost all of the station, and had begun to march into the last places they thought the living could be, the last place that was also protected with turrets, which caused only some harm to the undead, as only a few were severed by the shots from those turrets before they were disabled. Something very strange happened as they had begun marching past them. Two dozen or so of the Wights had passed the point with a Censor leading them when a strange wall of energy came between them and the rest.

The wall had severed all contact between the Censor's group and the rest of the undead. The Censor did not care. No. He would march on until the living would lay dead upon the dark floors of this station, forsaken even by its creators. The others would not matter. They would find a way to go through.

The Dusk Elders within the station were amazed by the field. They had not seen anything quite like it before. It even stopped them from moving to the other side, although they had no physical body. They began to attempt to find ways to breach it. If they ever wanted to kill the living, they would have to breach this wall.

While the station had not powered up in quite some time, the commander felt it necessary to do so now. It would light up like a beacon, but.. he would be able to activate internal security fields.

The ships outside the station that had powered up began connecting with a centralized computer, going into full AI control, and locking out consoles throughout themselves.

Unfortunately, the home of that AI was finding it... difficult to stay on the side of the living.

It hadn't taken much coercion after subroutines were deleted here and there, and the small fleet of obsolete ships continued to power up, under the control of the undead.

Station security fields however, did come online, blocking physical objects from passing at strategic locations. There was not yet enough power for them to be large in number, nor exceptionally durable, however.

Inside the shielded section, the station's small crew prepared, and waited for the undead that had gotten into the field to walk into their sights, to be shredded by the command center's defensive measures.

The Censor and his group of Wights continued to advance without obstruction, until the Censor shrieked and the whole group came to a stop. There was something up ahead... He took some debris from the corridor, and threw it towards the place they were going to.

His assumptions had been correct, as the debris was shot full of holes, and disintegrated. They would have to be extra careful if they wanted to get through this. Or maybe... He took a few grenades from his suit, primed them and let them roll into the general direction of the things that had shot the piece of debris he had thrown.

After those had exploded, he threw more debris to see if those grenades had done anything...

--

The Dusk Elders had finally made a breakthrough, and more Wights were now moving through the wall, although they had to redo what they had done quite often, so the amount of troops going through was not all that great yet. They would have to come up with something more permanent.

--

Outside, the ships were now quite well under control. Most of the Wights had hit them instead of drifting off to space. The artificial intelligence had been altered a bit, so it now was loyal to the cause of the undead instead of being with the living. There everything was going even better than they had thought things would go.

<We have contacts in sector 3, subsection 12, sir!>

<Security fields!>

The additional debris bounced off the fields that had come up, causing them to flicker briefly. The turrets were still down at the end of the hallway, but they couldn't shoot through a field, nor was there enough power for them to block all the entrances to the command center.

The living just needed to buy themselves enough time to prep the pods for launch.

The Censor was not all that surprised. He shrieked again, and the group walked as far as they could, until they were stopped by the field. Then he projected a thought into the mind of the group, and they began to shoot the shield... In places that would, when the shield comes down, destroy the turrets behind it. Even more Wights came to bring more fire power to the group and began doing the exact same thing as the Wights that had come there before them.

The Dusk Elders had successfully disabled the shielding, and were now hovering towards the point where the Wights were firing the shield. If the shield would not be down by the time the Dusk Elders get there, it would be soon after.

--

Things were rather different outside, the AI was docile and it had indicated that the living would attempt to flee from the station with escape pods, in an attempt to survive this... Alive.

That would not be allowed to happen.

But instead of shredding them to bits when they would come out, the undead chose to do something else. Something that would leave their bodies in... A generally good shape.

The black ship, the one which was originally supposed to reinforce the invasion force but took over the ships outside the station instead, began to move towards the supposed point from which the pods would come out of the station. When they thought the ship was was close enough, a few unholy priests were sent out to desecrate the area. It should, if not kill them instantly, at least age them considerably when they leave the station.

They would not leave the station alive.

<We've got power to one of the upper lances!>

<Fire at that ship... there!>

The large weapon, intended for long range defense, came to life as energy began crackling between twinned prongs. It turned to face the black ship, and, were there an atmosphere, an audible humming would be heard, quickly increasing in pitch.

It locked the black ship in as the target, and fired.

Unfortunately, it overloaded several systems on the station, and the security fields cut out completely as power went out throughout the command section.

The first crew had packed itself into an escape pod, and the ejection turret started angling itself as inertial nullification systems came online inside it.

The first escape pod was fired like a shell, and was on it's way. The automated guidance system on board would get it to it's destination, but it's crew would be found dead in it.

Meanwhile, power to the second launcher went out, and the few living left barricaded themselves in the command center, pushing desks and chairs up against the doors, arming themselves with small handheld weapons.

The ship was lost, but the undead inside it survived. It was no miracle. The undead can survive in the harshest of environments. The AI controlled ships fired a few shots at the speeding escape pod, as did the Wights from the black ship, now floating in space. If they could stop it... No one knew. But its crew should turn undead at some point due to the dark residue on their pod and they should return, if everything went as planned.

--

The Censor laughed in the chambers of his mind as they were finally successful. The shield went down for whatever reason, who cares what truly caused it, and the turrets were quickly destroyed by the constant gunfire. The Censor shrieked and the ever growing legion of Wights began to march. Until they were stopped by some obstacles.

Doors. How crude. The Censor shrieked once again, and the wights began to fire. Through the door. Through the walls. They would worry about repairing the room afterwards.

Now they would kill the living!

The barriers quickly came down under the fire, and the undead found the control center empty, and quickly venting atmosphere.

There was a maintenance robot in the corner, obviously finished it's business with a plasma torch, and unlike the first escape pod to launch, the second's engine flare would not be contained in the launch tube.

Superheated flame licked through the command center as the pod's engines flared, supplemented by explosive force from the nearly cannon-like launch tube.

The maintenance robot melted, of course, as the second pod sped off, covered in the same dark residue as the first.

For the time being, the undead would have to use the secondary command center, as the primary would be too warm to allow beings to remain not-on-fire.

The control panels had survived, themselves designed with such an escape in mind.

They just needed to cool down.

As the Censor saw that the room was empty, he shrieked in anger and the Wights began to march into where ever. The Dusk Elders had just arrived to the scene, and went to look through the heated room. One of them cast a spell to cool the room down, after which the Censor walked in to the room. They had just taken full control of the station. The ships outside took some random shots at the pod again.

"So... This station is ours now. As planned."

The Dusk Elders hovered around him. One of them spoke in his mind.

Yees... The living left... But they died... I felt it as they departed... Their lives ended... And they began to turn...

"Good. Take this place into the Stygian Paths. Let us go into the Underworld. But first, bring all those who were left without a vessel into this station..."

Very well, Censor... We shall...

There were more Dusk Elders than just those that were in the command center there. It took just a while for them to tell the others through their unholy connection what to do.

The Wights and other undead left from the destroyed ship were brought to the station. The ships around the station were attached to it with cables. They would tow the station through the Underworld to some other location. All of them were.

Except one. The last of the black ships had just arrived to the scene. It ran under different commands. It would stay there and wait. Wait for those in the pods that had left the station. The undead knew that they would come back. Sooner or later.

And after all that had happened, the station and the ships now towing it disappeared in a massive black flash, leaving only one ship to the location.

They had found their way into the Underworld.

Soon, the station began to move. Slowly, but steadily. They would take it to their hidden space base just outside Sol. There they would find out all of its secrets. Learn to use it. Learn to turn it against the living.

The station within the plot of asteroids they had begun to built some time ago was now complete. It was now fully operational. A bit late of schedule, but nothing serious. If they had something, it was time. Time had always been on their side, one way or the other. Several Black Servants once again left into the Underworld to inform the others of the station's progress.

It was as black on the outside as it was dark inside. An eerie, green glow lighted the machines within the station. The manufacturing plants were still silent, as the fully automated mining process was under way. It would take some time until the station would begin manufacturing anything. But when it would be ready, the station would produce its very first external mining drones. After that, and only after that, the station would manufacture things it was meant to create. Ships. Larger ones than the one they had in Sol.

Alcastos was to relocate into the station with the Dusk Elders and several priests as quickly as possible after the station went operational. There was a single ship waiting for them. One of the largest ones they had built to date, a transport almost as large as the ones they had... Found in Ermor. The two moons were now controlled by two Censors, one placed on each one, so Alcastos would only have to command those who would be on the station.

All the unused gems and strange items that would replenish their ever diminishing supply of magical gems, that would slow down the need for bringing more from the mainlands of the growing Ashen Empire were loaded into the ship before Alcastos and the others were allowed to board it. It did not take all that long with the great amount of undeads already on the moon. Many of them stayed on the ship, as they would need to unload everything once there. And it was quite obvious that the station would require more undead.

After they had boarded the ship, it took off from the moon quite swiftly. The moon's gravitational pull was not all that massive. They moved through space normally to reach the station instead of going through the Underworld or using the strange mechanism they had acquired from their very first space station.

The trip was uneventful, as expected. The ship reached the station and docked into it. The Wights, the soulless, the longdead and the like began to unload the gems and items into one of the station's rather large storage areas, in which was also a place for the Dusk Elders to continue on their... Work. Which they did as quickly as they could.

Alcastos was guided through the dark halls of the station into one of the control centers, which was a part of a larger nexus of similar centers. But unlike the others, this was the primary one. The most important of them. As long as it would be operational and firmly in the hands of the undead, the others would be - more or less - useless. The idea was to make it much harder for any potential aggressor to cripple the station by targeting a single part of it.

Alcastos was left alone. As alone as one could be in a station's nerve center, even in one that was made and controlled by the undead. Things needed to be constantly monitored. Although the original designs of the station they had found from the station near Sol had been much altered to fit the undead even better, it still had... Problems. Complications. Ones that could not be left unchecked.

Finally... Finally... Alcastos thought as he stood there, in the center of the room, looking at the monitors showing what was happening outside.

The station they had found and taken over in Epsilon Pegasi was now there, close to Sol, in the vicinity of the first Ermorian station. They would find the secrets it and the ships that came with it contain, as they had begun to find things from the courier ship they had intercepted and brought there. The courier contained... Logs. Locations of secret places. Interesting technology they did not possess. They were certain that they would benefit greatly from these new... Acquisitions.

Etimmu was with the group of Dusk Elders who were leading this project to examine the station very thoroughly, so that they would find a way to actually operate it at full capacity. He was surprised by what they had found from the system already. First the starmaps, then the courier ship and the locations and technology it held, and now this... Yes, the living had become increasingly careless during the many long years that had gone past. They seemed to leave things with incredible value unprotected. The undead had already benefitted greatly from the state of decadence the living were in.

Also, the cruiser was a source of much wonderment as they went through it, practically reverse engineering and (attempting) reassembling many of the things that were in it. As it was researched and reverse engineered, they came to understand one thing: The ship was of higher technology than the ships they now had. But did it matter to them? No. But they would incorporate whatever better systems they would find to their ships anyway.

--

The asteroid station was now ready for its first real project, since the simple mining vessels were complete and already out there, mining from those asteroids that were near by. Alcastos observed the many, oddly shaped and colored monitors that showed what happened outside and inside the station tirelessly. He was content with the progress they had been doing, even if they were behind the schedule set by the Lich Queen herself. Even if they were not in schedule, everything was still going as planned.

The station was quite similar in design to the station they had taken from the Tarasovkayan corporation, but it still was quite different. No private rooms, no life support was present in the station, nor were many other things required by the living. No. This station was full of storage space instead, and its capability to build ships within it was considerably better than compared to the original. This meant that the ships they could, would build in this station would be larger than those they had built to date. Many of the ships they had created had been somewhere in the range of two hundred meters in length.

The very first ship they would build in this new station was to be an experiment. A ship with good armoring, with weapons they had gotten from the living. Things they had not yet used at all. Something they had seen the living use in their... Warships, as they called them. Maybe the undead could use ships like those if they were to wage war against those who still lived. The undead were well aware that magic would not always bring them victory over the living. It did not always work even in the times when the Holy Empire had just fallen and the Ashen Empire rose from the ashes, and had begun taking back the lands that were once a part of the Empire.

And so, the process of creating this prototype had begun. The ship, as pitch black as the place it shall be built in, shall be longer than any of the ships they now have, even longer than those five hundred meter ships they had gotten back in the homeland of the Ashen Empire. Yes, it shall be... Approximately seven hundred meters in length.

Etimmu had ordered a Black Servant to go and tell the Lich Queen of what they had uncovered. He was too busy himself to make contact with her right now. Etimmu knew of the project Alcastos was supervising, the project to create their first combat-ready ship. One designed only for the undead.

It would have to be put on hold on the account of weaponry.

The cruiser they had gotten from Epsilon Pegasi had highly advanced weaponssystems and armor much better than what they had in mind to place onto the ship. Plasma weapons, even the missiles within it were of better quality than the ones they were going to use. Reverse engineering and putting them back together again would take some time, although it was already well under way. The missile systems were basically complete already, as they were quite similar to those they already had in comparison. The plasma technology was... Different, instead.

The research upon the armor plating was already complete. They had removed one of the plates and processed it quite swiftly, finding out what it was made of. And that brought about an interesting a problem. The alloy used was... Strange. But workable. They put the plate back onto the ship. Many Dusk Elders sought out through the ways of magical alchemy an alloy that would match the alloy of the armor plating.

And they found it. In a way. Some magically made alloys are stronger against magical attacks, but weaker against physical ones than equivalent ones done completely without magic. The alloy the people who had made the cruiser was one of these... Odd ones, non-magical even. But the one they now had created was somewhat magical, and they could not find a way to fix this problem. The copy they had made would not withstand exactly as much punishment as the original, but it would do. And it would also survive the Ermorian dominion far better.

How were they able to do all this so quickly? Undeath is the answer. They can feel what the others feel. Know what the others know. Understand what the others do. And they could continue on for as long as was necessary. The dead do not take breaks from their work.

The Lich Queen agreed with Etimmu, but instead of sending a Black Servant like Etimmu had done, she made a direct link with Alcastos. This would be faster, more convenient for her. She could feel his presence within the dark corridors of the station, no matter how distant it was. She told him that they would wait for the plasma weapon/missile research to be complete and add those to the warship. All missile systems and armor plating already manufactured were to be scrapped in favor of the newer one. If any armor plating had been done, it was to be scrapped with the missile systems and they would use the new plating in its stead.

The Lich Queen cut the contact with Alcastos. She was quite pleased with the outcome of it all. Even if the station in the system of Epsilon Pegasi had become operational later than the date that had been set, and was not in schedule even now, things were better than she had ever hoped. More and more technology found its way into the hands of the legions of the dead. The said legions grew daily. Each passing day meant a better chance for the dead to wage a war against the living and win.

And then the time came. They now held the secret of plasma weapons. They knew now how to use it, how to control it, and how to convert it to their liking. Many factors made the whole project much easier for them, the now undead Tarasovkayan engineers and the crew of the courier ship who were a source for a basic understanding on the technology were two of the most obvious ones.

This time, Etimmu made contact with the Lich Queen himself instead of sending someone. He told her that the research was complete, and that they had successfully built a working prototype of the weapon. Actually, they had built a few of them, of different sizes. The designs of those were being transported to the station of Epsilon Pegasi as they spoke. He also told her that he had contacted Alcastos first, so that she would not have to bother.

And what of the missile system? It had been ready for some time. The... Research on it had been finished only a while after they had found the secrets of the armor plating of the cruiser. As they had thought, it was quite close to what they already had, but it was... More precise and packed a bigger a punch per missile. They were immensely superior.

They were quickly implementing these new technologies to whatever ships they were manufacturing at the moment. Although, only the armor would be used on the ships built in the station close to Sol. They did not bother building warships there, only ships for transporting undead armies from place to place. The ship in Epsilon Pegasi was supposed to be an experiment anyway. An experiment that might be very significant, although the undead did not think so.

Yet.

After many setbacks the prototype warship was finally complete after hasty assembly, well behind schedule. But finally it was quite like they had planned it to be. Armed to the teeth with weapons taken from the living and altered for the usage of the undead, tainted with the unholy fires of the Underworld which work as their fuel.

Alcastos felt almost excited, but just almost. The undead do not feel extreme feelings, except those of hate. He wanted to see it all first hand, so he had gone aboard of the ship. He was on the bridge, waiting to see the results of their... Hard work. They would attempt to destroy a few smaller asteroids simultaniously, which was something Alcastos had permitted. Those few were ones that had been found poor in mineral wealth, but had been exhausted of anything useful anyway.

"Fire when ready," Alcastos said to a Wight, one who's hands had been impaled with some strange objects. A silent "Yes", a whisper, was the only reply.

The ship's cannons moved to target the few closest asteroids. Many odd, green balls of light came out of the cannons and moved with high speed towards the targeted asteroids. After a while, the ship's armor plating began to shift on its outer hull revealing the ship's missile batteries, which promptly fired a multitude of missiles upon the asteroids that were a bit further away.

They had come to the conclusion that the two weapons had two different functions, as the plasma weapons, although harder to shoot down, had a lower range than the missiles, which was why they used them in this fashion. They were not exactly sure as to what would be the optimum range for either, but that was one of the reasons why they did these tests.

Alcastos felt a brief moment of amazement as the weapons hit the asteroids. Apparently they had underestimated their power. A lot, too. Each and every one of the targeted asteroids were completely annihilated by the sheer force of the attack. The test had been more than successful. Alcastos was now beginning to realize the potential of those weapons. Their destructive power was immense, and would leave more Dusk Elders free to chant other spells than offensive ones during an attack.

But there were problems with the ship itself, as they were left stranded after firing everything it had to offer. This could only mean that the plasma weapons ate too much power. They also generated much heat, but they could have fired at least two more rounds almost immediately after the first one without the weapons starting to actually melt. Also, the propulsion system was found inadequate for the warship. It was not only too slow, but its speed was also greatly affected by simple recoil.

The ship was quickly towed back to the station.

They came to the conclusion that the warship would require a more efficient engine, and they just happened to have the designs of one ready. It was one of those things they had gotten from the cruiser they had gotten with the station in Epsilon Pegasi. They had not built one yet because they had thought that what they already had would've been enough, but as they had seen, it was not. And the propulsion system? They used the same source. They had found the cruiser to be a real treasury, and they would take anything they could use from it and apply those onto their own ships.

They were getting closer...

At last.

Alcastos grinned maliciously as he observed the warship working as well as it was supposed to. No malfunctions were reported. The power levels were still high enough for the ship to continue maneuvering and firing. The ship did not even budge when all the cannons on the ship were fired simultaniously. And the destructive power of the ship was... Stunning.

The refitting was deemed a great success.

They made quite a few more tests to make sure that it was not just some odd stroke of luck. Which it obviously was not. The ship still worked, although the heat levels rose after each round. They came to the conclusion that all of the main plasma weapons could be fired several times consecutively until the heat would be too high, and they would have to wait some time for the weapons to cool down. For that time it would have to trust its point defense variations of the plasma weapons, and of course, its missiles.

Alcastos was taken back to the station. They continued testing the ship without him. He had other things to do right now.

Alcastos made contact to the Lich Queen to inform her of this great success. He told her of the great power of the ship with a fragment of excitement in his thoughts. Even death could not completely destroy all human feelings from a being.

Good, the Lich Queen told him. After which she cut the connection, causing pain to Alcastos. Something that the undead did not feel normally. He went into an unconscious state for a moment, lying on the floor in the docking area of the asteroid station. When he came to again, he walked into the control room of the station. He knew that the Lich Queen was content with the outcome, even if she disliked the fact that they were badly behind schedule.

The Lich Queen sat in her black throne within the Ermorian Citadel of the Unholy Capital of Ermor, which was called Eldregate, silently looking at the door of the throne room which was in front of her. Then she laughed for a while, a laughter so dark that it would kill a living being with its sheer malice. She knew what she would do now.

Tell Etimmu.

She contacted Etimmu. She practically took over his body. She told him what Alcastos had told her. She told him to begin with the next step of the project. Create more of them, was her command. Create more and of varying sizes, as the living have done.

She let Etimmu take hold of his body again as she severed the connection.

Etimmu did as he was told. From now on, in the Ermorian station close to Sol, they would begin building warships. Rather small ones, yes, but warships nonetheless. But they would not simply stop building ships to transport the undead legions, no. They would just have to build less of them.

Yet another thing of great importance happened as the station they had brought to the vicinity of the original one they had close to Sol came fully online. They had serviced it, changed its command parameters... And now it worked in the way the undead wanted it to work. The lights came on, artificial gravity was enabled and the life support systems began to pump oxygen into the corridors. The undead had not yet disabled the life support. The whole station quickly became suitable for the living - with one great exception: The dominion of the Ashen Empire would kill anyone foolish enough to attempt entering the station. Its turrets came alive, or more like went into an idle mode.

They had come to realize that the station had shipbuilding capability, much like what the ones they already had, although it could not mine nor refine materials, it was dependent on other sources that way. Keeping it close to either one of the two asteroid stations would be the best course of action. But this was not the only feature of the station they had interest in. No. The shielding the Dusk Elders, the Wights and the Censor who had been there when they first took it over... That was something of great interest.

Yes, so it was. It would help them protect the Ermorian Citadel of Eldregate even better. As it would help them protect the two other stations which lacked any such technology. They had found one of the devices that had made them, and they had found the console that controlled it. And they had made an exact duplicate of this whole system, after reverse engineering it and making very detailed specifications and instructions on assembly of the whole system of course, and after reassembling the unit itself.

The original still worked.

The duplicate did as well. They tried it out in the asteroid station that was close to Sol. It worked perfectly. Well, as perfectly as it could under the circumstances, anyway. It would be of great help when under attack.

Etimmu had only heard of the whole shielding mechanism after it had been duplicated, and some Dusk Elder asked him for the permission to use it on the station after telling him of its possibilities. He let them do whatever it was they wanted to do, and apparently it had been a success. The same Dusk Elder had come to him again and told him that the system worked and that it could be used to protect the Lich Queen herself and the stations from attackers. Even the ships could be refitted with this shielding system that works on the inside. The Dusk Elder also told him of the station's shipbuilding capability, and of its other good sides and of its obvious bad ones.

Now Etimmu came to realize how important this would be.

He contacted the Lich Queen once again and told her of this finding, the shield system and of the new added capacity to build ships. She told him to proceed with it. She also told him to use the station solely to create new warships, and build only a small number of them in the asteroid station itself. The ships built in the asteroid station would all be smaller anyway. Etimmu immediately ordered the station to be used as the Lich Queen had told him, and that most of the warship building activity that had already started on the asteroid station were to be relocated into the other station.

When the connection was severed, the Lich Queen contacted Alcastos and told him to make contact with Etimmu.

Which Alcastos did, after recovering from the rather intrusive connection of the Lich Queen. Etimmu told him of the newest developments, and that the designs and one of the prototypes of the shielding system were on their way to Epsilon Pegasi through the Underworld, as were a few new ship designs. He also told Alcastos of what the Lich Queen had told him. To build warships of varying sizes, and that the order also was pointed at Alcastos' station. That was why there were new designs on their way to Epsilon Pegasi.

The connection between the two was cut.

Alcastos was not only to build those massive ships, it seemed. Instead, it would work as the flagship of the fleet.

The shipbuilding was coming along quite well. They had several templates to build ships of, one being an almost direct copy of the cruiser they had taken control of some time ago with some differences. More missiles, more armor, things like that. Those were mostly being manufactured in their newest acquisition, the station they had taken over in Epsilon Pegasi. Those were approximately three hundred meters in length.

They were building ships inspired by the cruiser design in the original asteroid station close to Sol, in the one commanded by Etimmu. They were called "frigates" or something of that sort, as based on the designation made by those who had owned the cruiser and the station. Those would be somewhere in the range of a hundred meters in length.

In the station in Epsilon Pegasi, which was commanded by Alcastos, they were building those cruisers and something a bit larger, something that was in the range of four hundred meters, one that was meant to be a miniature of the original prototype warship.

But this was not all. They also now built fighter craft in all of the stations. They were of secondary priority, but still they were a priority. They had come to understand the value of different ship classes in a fleet after they had gone through the databanks, the logs and the like of the station and of the cruiser. They had found data that indicated the same from the first station, but they had thought it to be an error of some kind. Why would someone need ships small enough to fit only one being?

Now they knew the answer.

They were getting ever closer to the ending of the first step.

--

Who would have thought that the undead would advance so quickly? Who would have thought that in a fleeting moment they would achieve so much, whilst during a thousand years they had achieved nothing? No one.

Obviously the living had forgotten...

Etimmu was in the newest station, watching as its automated systems assembled its third cruiser. The place was still much like it was when they had taken the station, with primarily white, light yellow and such lights glowing within its interior. They had begun to change its power source into a more... Sustainable one. More sustainable for them, anyway. The engines they now had in use used banefire as their main source of power. Banefire being the physical manifestation of their hate towards the living, brought to existence by the runes that are all over the ships they build, or as it is with the ships they have taken and... Refitted, all over their engines and such parts they altered.

Etimmu felt the raw, dark energy flow within the ship that was being assembled. It was... Intoxicating. Just the fact that the undead were present on the station had already activated the ship, even if it was supposedly not yet operational. In truth, all the ships they created were operational even before they were completely assembled, absorbing the flowing hateful feelings of the undead like sponges. Even the mindless undead add to the pool, which was one of the reasons why they always brought those with them to every place they went.

The ship was nearing completion every minute. Undead beings began to board the ship. Mainly Wights they were. Etimmu could see a Dusk Elder and a Censor enter it as well. And some soulless and longdead, just to make sure the ship wouldn't stop working.

Soon the gate, the only thing that kept the ship from drifting into the darkness of space, opened. The ship slowly began to move out of the station. As it exited the station, the gates were closed and the process began again from the very beginning.

Etimmu sighed as the feeling of power subsided once again as the ship left. Yet another ship was complete. The fleet was growing with great haste. The asteroid station had already built a few ships as well.

Soon. Soon it would be time...

Alcastos stayed in the control room, observing the monitors that showed him what was happening all over the station, except only one of them had taken all of his attention. The one that showed the room where ships were built. The crew had just gone into the ship that was being assembled.

So, the second ship is almost ready... Good.

For a moment, he looked at the monitors that showed the outside of the station. Everything was quiet. Only the mining ships were out there. He saw the turrets turn around in idle mode. Yes, everything was quiet.

Then he watched at the assembly room again. The ship wasn't there anymore, and the gate to space was open.

So... That was the second one.

The ship moved to the place where the very first warship and the first of its kind were waiting, and they went into formation.

Soon, they disappeared. Almost as if they had never been there. Their warfleet was growing steadily, and soon it would be large enough. Powerful enough.

The Ashen Empire had assembled its first warfleet, as the three ships from Epsilon Pegasi met with the ships from the stations near to Sol, more being built all the time, tirelessly. Composed of the very first prototype warship and the several warships the undead had begun building soon after confirming the usefulness of such ships.

The Lich Queen was mildly pleased by the fact. Etimmu and Alcastos had kept her up to date in the events in space, even if not fully voluntarily, since the Queen usually took over their minds when they made contact with her. It is a horrible experience to be taken over by such a mind, even for an undead. The darkness of her mind is unbearable even for most of those of her... Own kind.

A Prince of Death, subordinate only to the Lord of the Underworld himself/herself/itself had asked her to send the King of the Shade Lands, Tenebrus, and his spectral armies to the Underworld. For the greater glory of the Ashen Empire and of the Underworld, the Prince had told her. That and that the Lord of the Underworld had given him the command.

She had agreed, and had given the order to Tenebrus. Curious, though. The Prince could have told him to do what he is now doing hundreds of years ago. Maybe they had waited for a time like this to come.

For a moment, she had wondered why. But only for a fleeting moment.

Caractor, and his attempts to join Arda as she had told him. She had not heard much of him for quite some time now. What could have happened to those who went there?

But Caractor was expendable, after all. He was not in the dark thoughts of the Lich Queen. No. The only thing that was in her mind all the time was her hate. Her hate towards the living. And the time when they would finally turn this realm into one of the realms of the dead.

>>Connecting via subspace microtube...
>>Cannot connect. Retry? [Y]/[N]

"Uaaah?"

The officer at the terminal sat up. That had never happened before.

Usually, the computer would connect with the station in Epsilon Pegasi, and confirm it was still operational...

He hit Y.

>>Scanning for subspace signature...
>>Error. Device not found. Retry? [Y]/[N]

Occasionally, the computer wouldn't connect, yes, but it always found the station when it went into subspace scan mode...

Something was wrong.

>>SCAN.EXE

>>Subspace Scan Manager v 3.21
>>Loading modules into memory...
>>Scanner arrays online...

>>Program ready. Would you like to...
>>1/Initiate Subspatial Scan
>>2/Initiate Ambient Mass Scan
>>3/Specify another scanning mode.

>2

>>Initiating scan...

The results were rather disturbing to the tech, seeing as the station didn't read as being there, although there was... something.

>>Deploy probe.

A brief moment, and a thunk later...

>>Probe deployed.

Now he would find out what was going on with the Imperium's station.

Something was coming at them, and that it was not of the Ashen Empire. It was not tainted. It seemed... Strangely similar in design to the things they had already taken out of the system.

"Destroy it."

Very well. The answer echoed in the Censor's mind. He held his head as the Dusk Elder left.

The Dusk Elder hovered through the ship until he found himself... Itself outside. In the void.

It pointed at the intruding machine and uttered a single word...

"Disintegrate."

That should be enough.

>>data feed lost.

>>Would you like to replay acquired video? [Y]/[N]
>>Y

The playback began, starting at the point that the probe left the corridor, and had focused it's cameras on what the recent scan had discovered.

"w-what? But they... they're..."

The tech entered everything into the right forms in the computer, and sent it off across the network of subspace arrays pointed at each other.

The packet was marked rather uniquely...

>>ATTN: MINISTRY OF SPACE
>>URGENT! REVIEW THIS DATA ASAP.

"... Not for you to see," said a voice in the unfortunate techie's mind. A thousand inhuman voices whispered in his head, using languages he could not understand. Then the voices became silent. The same voice that had spoken before spoke again.

"No one will see it. No one will hear it. No one will know. Ever."

The whispering voices came back. Except this time they were louder. Much louder.

After a while of talking some strange language, something that sounded like gibberish to the man, all the voices said one sentence in unison. One sentence he could understand.

"Now, we shall end your life."

And that would be the last thing he would ever hear.

(OOC: Continuation from this thread (http://www.nationstates.net/forum/viewtopic.php?t=149491).)

IC:

Some time had passed since the undead had taken over the Ur-Quan Kohr-Ah hierarchy and "reinstated" their deadly Doctrine with several changes. Whilst the Ur-Quan had some technologies that interested the rest of the Ashen Empire, they did not care that much about their ships. The Marauders, the Dreadnoughts and the remodeled Avatars required the Ur-Quan to be present. And their antimatter based reactors were not exactly the most suitable for the undead.

Instead the undead took some of their technologies to use on their own ships. The cloaking device was obviously going to improve to their ships greatly, as it would make them harder to detect in time. The shield mechanism the Ur-Quan had designed seemed quite useful as well. They would place the miniature versions to their ships. They would also shield Ermor with the kind the Ur-Quan had created for... Parts of planets, instead of entire planets. Yes, that would be of great help against those weapons the living use.

The massive shipyards had stood silent ever since the undead had taken them over. But that was brought to an end as they began building the kind of ships they built in Sol and in Epsilon Pegasi there as well, but with much higher rate and efficiency. The Ur-Quan Kohr-Ah had practically mastered building ships during their thousands of years of spacefaring and killing sentient species. That was where their heightened efficiency came from.

They had brought quite a few items meant to provide magical gems to the homeworld of the Ur-Quan Kohr-Ah in Beta Horologii, and created a great black citadel around their... Settlements. Hundreds upon hundreds of Dusk Elders had relocated there, and were chanting their dark spells upon that planet, where eternal night lies. And there would Tenebrus be, whenever his Conquest is done.

The shield systems had been delivered to Ermor, and now a sickly green glow emitted from Ermor. Nothing would get through, nothing but those the undead wish for to. Their own ship designs had reached the formerly Ur-Quan lands quite some time go. Those designs had been somewhat altered to have the shields and the cloaking systems, after which they had been sent back. They were quickly beginning to build their own kinds of warships in those places controlled by what should now be called the Ashen Hierarchy, as well as other ships to transport more legions.

The Ur-Quan Kohr-Ah had quite a number of technologies the undead did not have, but many of them were too... Ur-Quan for the mostly human-sized undead, although the undead Ur-Quan themselves did not see what the problem was, as they had always lived with the said technology. Also, the abundance of technology was too great to get many of them into use any time soon. Most what the undead would ever use would be in use already by the Ur-Quan.

There was still one technology that had made them very interested...

The Ur-Quan called it a "HyperSpace warp pod". A pod required to make the... Jump between TrueSpace and HyperSpace. One can put it on practically any ship. But it eats a lot of fuel to use it on long missions. Luckily, the Ur-Quan had massive supplies of the said fuel. The undead would build their new ships with this system instead of the one they got from the first station they took over.

What chaotic power...

That was the thought in the mind of the Censor commanding the very first expedition to HyperSpace of the Ashen Empire. Ten ships in total had reached it. It became quite clear why traveling through it would require great amounts of fuel.

And it was red. As red as blood itself. Pulsating like nothing he had seen before. Without the HyperSpace map the Ur-Quan had made they would have easily lost themselves into this overly vast dimension. It was obvious that their little experiment had worked. And this HyperSpace seemed much more safe than the Underworld. Now they would see if they could travel to Epsilon Pegasi through it.

They knew of only one true weakness that travel through HyperSpace did have. The surge of energy when one enters it or leaves it is too massive, too easy to see by anyone. The Stygian Paths that travel through the Underworld did not do this. They would have to continue using the paths within the Underworld when doing anything else but their... More peaceful missions around the void.

The cloaking technology of the Ur-Quan had begun to spread around the Empire with far greater speed than the HyperSpace technology, as it, oddly enough, required almost no changes. It was almost as if the technology was meant to be placed on ships of other species.

--

Their fleets were growing with great speed now, thanks to the massive building capacity of the Ur-Quan Kohr-Ah they had taken to the Empire. It almost seemed as if all the Ur-Quan ever did was create ships, which did fit the Ashen Empire quite well.

But there was a problem... Even if it was a rather minor one. They had no more of their own great leaders for their outer colonies and/or acquisitions. They would have to use locals now, if they were to spread further.

Whilst contemplating the current state of the Ashen Empire on her eternal throne, it hit the Lich Queen with crystal clarity.

Feign kindness towards the living! Make false peace with those who are alive!

Yes, it all became so clear to her on that moment. Use diplomacy to further the goal. Let others do it for you! All species wage war. Death is always present in wars. People die in wars. They could use this for their own advantage. And could there be anything better than becoming stronger while others accept it?

She even knew how to do it. There was an ancient spell they had researched whilst Ermor was still alive. "Transformation" she thought it was called. Yes, it was a potent spell of nature, a spell that should be strong enough to even bring living flesh upon those who are dead. To bind a spirit into a body.

She shrieked. After a while, a group of Dusk Elders hovered from the darkness that engulfs the stairs in front of her.

"You summoned us... Lich Queen?", one of them whispered.

"Yes... Tell the best in the path of nature that are of your kind... Tell them to turn themselves into living beings... When they are ready, they should come to me... We need as many living Dusk Elders as it is possible for us to get..."

"Very well..."

The Dusk Elders disappeared back into the darkness, and the Lich Queen fell back into her dark thoughts.

She could see something rather pale coming up the stairs. Pale and corporeal. It was easy to see the difference between that what was coming and those Dusk Elders that usually wish to enter her throne room for an audience. After a while, a group of beings that seemed to be alive came in front of her and kneeled down. But they did not bring up her innate hate for the living. No.

She knew who they were. The Dusk Elders, transformed!

One of them spoke. It seemed as if the others considered him to be the highest of their group, a leader.

"We have come, Queen."

"Yes... I see you have been successful... Good."

"What do you want us to do?"

"Wait within this dark Citadel as I shall search for appropriate places to send you."

The so called leader nodded, and the group rose up and left down the stairs.

Things seemed to be going quite as she had planned...

The Queen was pondering about the hundreds of millions of undead that they could never use in a war in their current state. Mindless they are, beasts that use antiquated weapons and rusted armors. And that was the situation with the longdeads. Almost all of the soulless were completely unarmed. Something would have to be done about them.

But what? It was obvious that they would not learn. Some information could be forced into them, but how long would they remember it? It would have to constantly remind them of how to use what they have and to force them not to drop it.

Yes, that could be a way. Build the weapon on them so that they cannot drop it. Build it so that it becomes a part of the mindless being. Bolt it into the arm. Fuel it with the hatred inherent in all undead. Yes... That might work. But they are mindless... How would they be stopped from destroying themselves by overusing the fire?

So many problems... But she would know how to do it, sooner or later. Or then those Dusk Elders she had told of this would learn how to do it.

The Queen was somewhat pleased with the outcome of what she and the chosen Dusk Elders had done. They now knew how to support the skeleton for it to survive carrying and using the weapon... But the longdead would still burn itself out, even if at a somewhat slower rate.

Now, instead of dropping onto the ground as a pile of bones, the skeleton remains intact... And sometimes it does not even fall down, but the worst problem was still there. The problem of how they would stop the mindless being from destroying itself.

They only... Exist, they do not care of their own survival.

That is why they have found it so hard to make it stop. An undead commander cannot supervise each individual longdead with enough care to stop them from self-destructing.

And so, without rest... They continued to search for the answer.

The dark fleets of the Ashen Empire had only continued to grow, unhindered and unstopped. No one had shown any curiosity towards the growing number of unarmed ships that now roamed in space, exploring, searching for new places to conquer, to create a foothold in. But so far, they had not found much of interest. Some dead systems they could claim at some point, some overly fortified systems... But also, a small number of viable targets for the future.

The Lich Queen had been growing impatient as she and the Dusk Elders had been unable to find a way to have the longdeads not destroy themselves with the weapon they had been given. At least, until one of the Dusk Elders had realized that it would be possible to shut down the weapon before the longdead would be able to destroy itself with it. Add a blade of somekind to it, and it will work much like the swords they had been using before.

The problem with the system was that it would prove to be rather expensive resource-wise, slowing down the process of actually arming the longdeads with it. Plus, due to the cost, they had come to the conclusion that it would be a good idea to only arm half of them with it. But the Lich Queen was content with this. The undead armies would still become much more deadly and efficient.

The designs of this... New weaponssystem was sent to the station in Epsilon Pegasi as well as to the stations in Sol. It would take priority over the project to arm all the Wights, although they would not stop doing that, either.

The Lich Queen found it odd that it had taken so long for them to realize such a basic concept, that let them begin upgrading their armies once more. Maybe there was a price to pay for one's undeath? Their affinity towards magic had let them research it quite quickly and efficiently, but technology was a different thing altogether.

They had only played around, combining and testing the technologies of different nations they had taken that from, which did not require much creativity. That is, before they thought the longdeads would need weapons too, which was something they had to do from scratch. It still had its problems, although the tech now worked sufficiently well. They had spent a relatively long period of time figuring that one out.

Would it be a good idea to make those who have some understanding of designing new weapons and such things alive again? Would it make them more creative? There was one obvious downside in this, as the living Dusk Elders lacked the direct connection with their dead brethren who still had that with each other.

Such thoughts went through her mind as she continued to ponder their shortcomings...

--

The fleets of the Empire only had continued to grow. No one cared. No one showed any interest towards the growing fleets the undead had. Maybe it was because they had not done much yet. Maybe it was because no one could see them. Maybe it was because no one really gave a damn about the future of the Universe. Maybe it was... Well, let's leave it at that.

As was said before, this had only encouraged them, and they had begun exploring. Exploring what they could find from the starmaps they had... Acquired, observing the defenses of the living, making conclusions which systems would not require much effort when it would come to the point they would begin taking them over.

The weaponssystem built to make the longdeads more effective in a battlefield had been in production for some time now, although they now knew for certain that arming a fifth of them with it would be feasible, anything over that would simply be overdoing it and overly expensive resource-wise. Also, having hundreds of millions of mindless undead to command in unknown territories would strain the undead leadership too much. Even a fifth would still be a large number, though.

The areas surrounding the Ermorian stations were now much emptier than usual, as they had sent many ships to help the cause of their... "Friends", as the Lich Queen had commanded, even if they were not bound by anything, as they had not been given the chance to join the alliance. Maybe they would see the undead in a better light if they were helped by the dead. This is why she had given the others the command to help them, even though it had already meant giving them the ship they had... Acquired from Kajal some time ago. They could be magnanimous, after all, the ship was of no use to them anymore, they had taken everything that was in that ship into use.

Why would they help a group of living beings in a war? Simple. Wars cause much death, and death is what they seek. Death augments their numbers. Death is their only shield against those who would like to see them exterminated.

Energy suddenly begins to emanate from a point in space. Exotic matter being created and then promptly annihilated…. Energy builds and builds, until space literally begins to “open”…. The fabric of space-time itself ripping a-part. Slowly the tear, opens into a near “disk” shape… presenting a surface, almost fluid, undulating like a disturbed pond…. Within seconds, a massive 13.8 million metric ton vessel emerges from the “pool”… 1.2 kilometers in length, the massive vessel is also putting off an energy signature almost equivalent to a small star… flanking it, two smaller 190m vessels… Markings on the three ships are sparse…. However all three possess a large blue and gold flag, bearing a spread eagle… and some writing on the side of their hulls, the larger one, “TRSS Chronos BSG-1” and on the two smaller, “TRSS Vico DSTEV-60”, and “TRSS Nero DSTEV-58”.

On the Bridge of the Chronos, the ships XO, Captain Cleese, turns to the Commanding Officer, Commodore Bradley…. “Sir,” says Captain Cleese, “Computers confirm, we’ve arrived in the sector…” The Commodore, acknowledges, and then commands, “XO, secure the Kraskinov…”

“Aye, sir.” responds Captain Cleese….. He issues some commands in the console by his station, and the energy signature dies from the Chronos…… Behind them, the massive rift in space, slams shut, with a brilliant flash of light and broad-range energy, almost as if the universe was rejoicing it was intact again….

“XO, you know the drill,” remarks the Commodore….” I want full sensor scans of the region; I want everything charted and categorized. I’ll be in my quarters….”

“Aye, sir….” The XO says, and then turning to the crew, Captain Cleese begins to coordinate the crew. The Commodore walks off… and right before exiting remarks over his shoulder, “And don’t call me unless it is something important…. And I mean I-M-P-O-R-T-A-N-T…”

The Chronos and her two escorts, begin to slowly move through the sector, sensors’ performing broad and general scans for planets, asteroids, moons, space-born particulate matter, and whatever else they may find….

The undead did not care that a few ships arrived in Earth orbit. It was an occurrence that took place many times every hour of every single day. The barren wasteland that is Ermor had not been affected by any of them during the passage of years, if one does not count the time when ships actually crashed upon it and granted the Empire space capability. That was the first time, and the last time anything even resembling an unknown spaceship had come to Ermor. As for the occupants of those ships that never have the displeasure of going to Ermor, it is only for their best, as Ermor's deadly dominion is still as powerful as it ever was.

A simple tingling feeling of uncertainty crept into the dark halls of the mind of the Lich Queen. It was as if an ancient fire, one thought to be extinguished, had suddenly began to burn again. As if a fire that had lain dormant for millennia had been suddenly rekindled.

But she did not know what caused this feeling. She did not know why she felt this way. But one thing was certain: Something had begun to spread. Something she had thought the undead had defeated long ago.

Little did she know of the re-emergence of Marignon.

As a small shipment of new weaponry reached the Ermorian station which was close to Sol, a rather heated discussion between Etimmu the Wraith Lord, and the one who was bringing those weapons to him, erupted. As heated as the undead go, anyway.

"What do you suppose we should do with these, Dusk Elder?"

"Hmph. Apply them to the Wights, of course. These were the Lich Queen's orders, after all."

"... She wanted us to make more upgrades to the Wights?"

"Yes. That is how I see it."

"But there are so few of them. What do you want us to do with them?"

"Can't reverse engineer them, if that's what you were thinking of. Scanning, on the other hand, wasn't prohibited. So, scan them as thoroughly as you can. Even if we can't get 1:1 copies out of those things that way, they should be close enough."

"Is that all...?"

"No. Remove the self-destruct mechanism. I came to the conclusion that it could go off if someone shot at the things and that 'automated self-destruct mechanism' thought that it's being reverse engineered or something and made it explode on our faces. I really don't know what they thought when they put it in. The possibility of having your weapons reverse engineered is far less a threat than having those things explode on the user's face due to some failure in the automation."

"..."

"Is there something you want to say, Wraith Lord?"

"... I think we could duplicate these shields and these shoulder mounted weapons, even if we couldn't find out how these things work. The lance... Is doable, as well. Rven if we can't copy these things, we could always create our own versions of them. Ones more or less inspired by them. We have some 'people' that have been turned into the same state as you, Dusk Elder, who we use for these kinds of 'innovations'."

"Eh? Alright. I think that would be good enough. They don't need to work exactly the same way as the weapons we brought."

"Good."

(OOC: Yeah, thanks for rating my thread. NOT. I did *NOT* make this thread for you to rate, especially since I'm 100% sure that no one has actually bothered to read this thread thoroughly enough to go rating it. So... This is what happens.)

Two wights were standing in a hastily created proving grounds of sorts. One of them was still in the ancient armor of a wight and as weapons only had a shield and a baneblade, whilst the other had one all the new creations the undead, or more like, the undead they had gathered from the stations and ships they had taken years before, had come up with for their forces on it, barring ranged weapons. This was supposed to become a melee battle in the end after all.

"As you can see, Wraith Lord," a very much corporeal "undead" - who, in fact, looked like a living human male - said, "they have changed a lot, even if the basics are still the same. The armors are different and the weapons are as well."

"I see that the new 'model' has no shield and I can not see a sword on him, unless that stub is it. Is this intentional?"

"Yes, that look is intentional. The weapons we were brought are to 'blame' for this. These new ones are by far lighter than the old ones, as is the armor itself."

"Ah. I can see the usefulness of that. But I thought the weapon Xirrath brought us was a lance, not a sword."

"You are right, it was. But wights use swords like it was a second nature for them, so we... Took some liberties."

"Ah. A good idea."

"Now, let us demonstrate."

The man shrieked into a microphone of sorts like only an undead being can. The "upgraded" wight soon after hearing it activated its sword. The sword first extended itself to a much more sword like size and then began to glow in green, much like the baneblade its counterpart had in its hand did, although this new blade was burning much brighter. Then, it activated its shield. It looked, at first, much like just a small construct around its left forearm, but now a green light came from it, creating a green, round energy shield around it. Although they could have been of almost any color, as the room's own lighting was green by default.

"Those use the same source of energy them as the long ranged weapons use for the burning effect. They are all imbued with runes that convert their hate for the living to physical manifestations such at these. And... These are very efficient. They aren't much of a strain for the wight who uses them, even if they might look like that they leech excessive amounts of energy."

"Interesting. Very interesting indeed. But all I wish to see is how they function in battle."

"That is where the other wight comes in."

He shrieked again.

The two wights shrieked to each other and the two took fighting postures. Quickly after that, the "basic" wight made a quick swing at the modernized one. It quickly moved its shield to block it, and made a hasty counter attack, slashing at its enemy with great precision, targetting its left shoulder. It tried to block the attack, oh yes, it did, but it wasn't just quite fast enough.

The other one was faster. So much faster that it could rip the basic wight's left arm off with its first slash, causing its whole left arm, its shield arm, to drop onto the floor. Its ability to move was about at the same level with a living being, if not even surpassing that somewhat, unlike the wight with no upgrades was somewhat more sluggish.

The human shrieked, and the battle ended.

"As you can see, the new weapons surpass the old ones by far in handling and in damage. The baneblade could have never gotten through all that armor, not that easily anyway. The effects of this new blade are the same as with the baneblade, though. It would cause the surroundings of the area hit wither. We removed many of the pointless features in the shield. It is now simply a shield... With sensors to help detect nearby enemies, which was the only excess feature we left in it."

"Good, good."

"Do you wish to see more?"

"No, this was enough. Even if it was a quite limited test. We shall start manufacturing these at once to make our wights even more deadly in the field of battle."

"Very well. Now, let us show you the weapon bound to the users' shoulder."

"This should prove to be interesting."

The human shrieked again, and the two wights left the testing grounds. One other wight entered it, with something protruding from its shoulder. A group of other wights brought in a bunch of sandbags to the opposite side of the room.

"Without further ado..."

The man shrieked. The wight glanced at him for a moment, after which it turned towards the sandbags. After a second or so, a few things that burnt green and moved with awesome speed were shot out of the thing that was attached to its shoulder. Just a moment afterwards, sand was pouring out of all of the sandbags rather violently. The wight still stood where it had been when the test had begun.

"Did you see that? This will give our legions even further weapons' capability. If needed, it can be easily removed by simply pressing a button on it."

He shrieked. The wight pressed the said button and the construct dropped from its shoulder to the ground.

"That you didn't have to show me, but I understand what you mean. Those, too, will be put into use, but in a much lesser extent. Not all will need them."

"I see. You are right, these are more like for those situations when more firepower is needed.

"Does this conclude the test?"

"Yes it does, Wraith Lord."

"Good. I have other things to attend to now."

And so, the two left the observation room they had been in. Soon after this would these now-prototypes become a normal part of any wight's weaponry.

"... Fighter craft? Tanks? Are you going insane at long last?"

"No, no, Wraith Lord Etimmu. These are completely feasible and usable ideas."

"Is not our current power great enough?"

"Yes, it is great. You are right. But we lack power to punch through the armor of the warmachines the living use on the battlefields. Not to mention that we lack in something they call 'air superiority'. At this moment, we have nothing that could fight against machines that fly within an atmosphere with great efficiency."

"Hmph. You speak the truth."

"And as such, we need to adapt even further. We need more sheer power on battlefields we cannot simply desecrate the moment we walk upon them."

"... True."

"So, are you willing to begin the manufacturing of what we already have created?"

"... What? Does that mean that you have already made the prototypes?! And the necessary adjustments?!"

"Yes. All based on what we have found from the databanks of these stations and from the fights we have fought, and observed."

Etimmu's cold laughing echoed throughout the dark corridors of the station. Although they did not require oxygen, they had repaired the holes and made the whole station airtight and let it be filled with it some time ago, as to make the unlife of the "living" Dusk Elders a bit easier.

"Well, aren't you something? These things of yours... Will be built. It is up to you to find crews for them, though."

The man smiled.

"A wight or some other sentient corporeal one and a longdead or two should be enough for each individual tank. A few longdeads would suffice at times, too. And a longdead or two should be enough for each fighter."

"If you say so..."

And thus the conversation continued.

--

The weapons inspired by things Xirrath had acquired from some living nation were already being built with full force and applied upon the wight legions. In the millions they were built. Although most likely inferior when compared to what they were inspired by, they would have sheer numbers on their side. Of course, this meant that other projects had to be slowed down a bit, or at least that their accumulated surplusses would become smaller. Still, many, many more ships had been built to transport the ever growing legions of the undead. Odd, it was, that the living still did not seem to even notice their presence.

The same Dusk Elder was pestering Etimmu once again, and his patience was beginning to fade. More and more things for him to approve. Why now, anyway? What's with this insolence?

"And what are THESE now?!"

"Well... We need a delivery mechanism for the tanks, and for a higher survivor rate of the wights, we need a way to deliver them safely enough, too. We found things within the databanks about these things that are called 'dropships'. Smaller ships, capable of entering atmospheres, that are transported inside larger ones that are unable to enter said atmospheres. Right now we are simply using large ships that are re-entry capable, but not all of our ships can do that. And jettisoning the cargo hold that only acts as a method of entering the atmosphere isn't exactly the safest thing to use. Many things can go wrong."

"Hmph. We do not care what happens to the wights once they enter the warzone. We do not even care what happens to them before they enter it."

"Which is true. But would it not be a better use of what troops we have if we always had many more of them still capable of fighting instead of losing all of them, if the one ship happens to be shot down?"

The wraith let out a sigh.

"You are right. Now then, what is this other thing you have brought before me?"

Etimmu pointed at the designs of a much larger ship.

"Don't tell me we're supposed to spread wights through these small holes?"

"No no no. That is what we call a 'fighter carrier'. You still remember the time I brought before you the designs for different fighters, yes? These are the most efficient way to administer them upon a battlefield, be it in space or on a planet."

"..."

"Like before, we have already built the prototypes and made sure that they work."

"... Very well. These shall be built. But these carriers of yours shall not be built in such high numbers. These dropships, on the other hand... We need to manufacture them in massive numbers if we are supposed to really use them."

"So you accept?"

"Yes. Begone."

"Excellent. Thank you, Wraith Lord. I will return now to the others."

The Dusk Elder left the station's command center, leaving the Wraith Lord alone once more.

Reformation... Is this all for the better of the Ashen Empire? Or is he hiding something?

In the recent years, the undead had simply produced more weapons. More ships. More of everything. They made ships of practically anything that could be hollowed out and thrown into space and could survive re-entry. There was no problem with resources as such because of this simple fact.

But there were some problems with the path they had chosen. Whilst they would have to wage war against the living, they had done no such thing in years. They had more sheer power than they had ever had, but they simply did not use it. Partially because they knew that simply attacking mindlessly would most likely lead into their own destruction, and that was not their goal, no.

If they were to extinguish life as it was, they knew that they would have to proceed with caution. And that they had done. To great extent, as well.

Soon, they would still have to do something. Their warmachine had grown to massive proportions, and not using it would be great waste. But where would they strike? What place would be safe enough to attack without the risk of intense retaliation?

That was what the undead needed to think for now.

As the years went on, and the undead slowly regenerated, Wazzu had fallen first into silence, and now finally into decay. It's leaders had paid no attention to the once thought defeated, and not forgotten foe. Those few who now remained were too busy trying to renew their nation to notice the slow and silent buildup of the ultimate enemy of the living.

As the dead rose in Ermor, the living wasted away in Wazzu....

((OOC: What was that? O_o I don't get it. The undead of Ermor haven't been regenerating as such, more like generating. Since, well, they never lost in any war, nor were they ever taken out by anyone. They never met a foe that would have crushed them. "The Fall" is what happened to the living within the once great Holy Empire, which was the precursor of the Ashen Empire of Ermor. That is something that happened "in the past", as in, somewhere around "NS Before Christ" time or somesuch.

The first rise of the undead was pretty much just something where the undead took over the entire Holy Empire and turned it into the Ashen Empire, which it still is. The second one, this one, is where they gained space technology and got a far larger preying ground than they had ever had. I had this idea of Ermor actually being able to capitalize on the fact. Never happened, since no one wants to have their nation crushed by the undead. ;-) Even if it would mean permanent membership in the Ashen Empire and cool undead-ness!

Join now!))

The Ashen Empire had fought no wars in recent times, and it showed in the sheer number of ships and troops the Empire now controlled. Unlike originally planned, far greater numbers of the longdead had been upgraded into a more current war capability. From a fifth had they progressed to another fifth... And another... And another. Almost all of the longdead were now actually usable in war. The dead had gone a few steps further with these skeletal warriors than first thought as well, armored their frail bones with great care. Although they would not match the maneuverability of the Wights, they would match their damage.

The fleets of the Ashen Empire simply waited. The attack their so called friends had been thinking of had died out long ago. As the Ermorian fleets had grown as massive as they had, the undead could not simply keep them around their stations and think they could avoid detection. Great number of their ships were around the Ur-Quan territories they had taken over quite some time ago. They had also tainted the star in that system, so no living creature would live out to tell the tale if some were to accidentally go there.

((OOC: Yup, still here. Deal. ))

With the steady, even if slow, growth of the Ashen Empire's power base and resources, the dead had finally begun bringing the rest of the Censors up to current standards, which meant manufacturing the heavier power armor model they had quite some time ago created for them in quantities never seen before. They had also begun equipping Lictors, the personal guards of the Censors, Dusk Elders and the like, with the same armor.

There had been some small updates done that had already been applied to the earlier suits after their creation, like double blades beneath the arms that would be easily enough accessible when needed, but would not hinder the Censor's mobility. Two shorter, lighter swords were thought to be better in fast paced melee combat than the earlier one, two handed sword, not to mention the battleaxe which preceeded both. It was slow and cumbersome. Hitting with it was nigh impossible if the enemy had lighter weapons and armor and was not frightened by the Censor himself.

As was with all modernized Ermorian weaponry, the swords burned with unholy banefire, even if it was far more concentrated around the blade, almost as though a coating of sorts, something they had not ever thought of before. The regular banefire still would surround all of the projectiles shot from their ranged weapons, as they had been designed to.

Banefire, as such, is brought forth with unholy runes placed upon the weapon which convert the undead being's hatred for the living into a physical manifestation. The dead also use this method to power their vast fleets and their power armors, and thus, their ships and armors are rendered useless for the living - their weapons still function as though their regular counterparts.

With the failure the undead suffered in Arda due to unforeseen local troubles, Caractor and those who had gone with him had returned to Ermor. Before they had left, they had made sure that the fortress had been demolished to the last brick, and that every single one of the Soulless were accounted for.

All that was left behind was a perpetually dark and cold isle. That would be the only thing that speaks of Ermor having had a presence there once upon a time.

"... And that is what we need."

Etimmu stood silently, watching the evergrowing fleets of the Ashen Empire through the observantion window of sorts of the space station's bridge. As though he was contemplating the words of the living Dusk Elder.

"Hmph," he uttered as he turned to the Dusk Elder. "So you say that we absolutely need massive weaponry to be built onto the Ermor continents, for the possibility of an enemy bombing us from the planet's orbit?"

"Yes," was the Dusk Elder's swift reply.

"That these weapons will make the protection of Ermor much easier, that the current great shields are not enough? That a passive stance in this kind of defense is not good enough?"

"Yes."

Etimmu turned back to the window, considering the options for a little while.

"Very well. Your request shall be granted. We shall begin construction of these... Things. Note that it will slow down the growth of our fleets - but I think it is something you have considered, yes?"

"And that would be true."

"Good. Now, leave."

The Dusk Elder nodded slightly, and walked into the darkness.

... They always make these things... Always. Well. That is why they were given the task.

Etimmu was, as always, watching the evergrowing, blackened fleet of Ermor, when the very same Dusk Elder, who always came up to him to tell of new ideas... Of new creations... Walked to him. Again.

Unceremoniously the Dusk Elder took a datapad from his robe's pocket, and showed it to Etimmu.

"This, Lord, is what we need built next."

Etimmu muttered something incoherent and looked at the information flowing on the pad. Then he raised his gaze at the Dusk Elder, in a slight state of bewilderment.

"... Drones?"

"Yes."

"Are you serious?"

The Dusk Elder nodded, and Etimmu turned back to the window of sorts.

"Why? For space... We could instead do this, for instance", he said, raising one of his noncorporeal fingers up, "Place some kind of propulsion on Wights to allow them move in the void freely. On ground?" he said, and raised another finger, "It would be easier - for these machines AND our resources - to upgrade more longdead than do this. Some kind of flying drones above, say, Ermor itself, on the other hand... That would be a workable idea. But."

He lowered his hand.

"But?"

"Where would we get all the building capacity required to make all this happen, AND still keep our fleets growing?"

The Dusk Elder stroked his chin for a second. Then it hit him.

"How about... Horologii?"

Etimmu turned his ethereal face at the Dusk Elder.

"Hmm...? What about it...? Oh. Yes. Of course."

He turned to watch the fleet again.

"We can refit all of our capacity here to build things based on these new ideas and the earlier ones... Retain the creation of the Wights' weaponry and power armor... And finally begin using the ship yards at Horologii. Yes. This will work."

"Yes. It shall. But that was not all, Lord."

"What else do you have to show me?"

Again he watched the datapad.

"Portable anti-armor weapon? Yes. A plethora of different types of 'grenades' and 'mines'? Yes. Seems sound. But..."

"What, Lord?"

"Orbital siege weaponry?"

"Yes. We are building defenses for it. Why not also build those weapons themselves as well?"

"You bring forth a good point. With all this added capacity making even these should not be a problem. Approved."

"And this is the last item..."

"..."

"Yes, Lord?"

"No to this for the time being."

"Very well."

"This is all? Good. Go."

The Dusk Elder nodded and left, disappearing into the darkness once again, leaving Etimmu alone with his thoughts.

Some of the earlier projects had failed, or at least had been found to be less-than-workable on a later date. Indeed, the "fighters" and their "carriers" had been built in rather small numbers, but it had not taken long for that idea to be scrapped. Resource-wise, they were a horrible waste. Instead, they had switched those production lines to build other, better things.

As for the tanks... Their usability was found limited in Ermorian tactics, and their survivability was rather low. Too many malfunctions, and their tracks often broke simply due to changes in weather. That was yet another project which had died quickly after its realization.

Of the ideas brought forth to Etimmu at that day, only the idea of the dropships had survived. Indeed, it would lower the amount of Dusk Elders required in each and every battle that would mean the Ashen Empire invading a planet.

Not everything survives the test of time.

"Just one item on the list, Lord."

It was the voice of the very same Dusk Elder who had, as of late, begun pestering him quite often. Compared to earlier dates, anyway. There had been a lull of quite a lengthy time...

Etimmu turned away from the window to face the Dusk Elder.

"What is it this time?"

The Dusk Elder showed him the datapad and spoke out.

"That."

"... Artillery? Why hadn't you thought of this before? With this we can... Heh. Easily."

"Must have slipped our minds. Better late than never, don't you think?"

"Hmph.

Etimmu turned back to the window.

"Approved."

The Dusk Elder nodded and walked away.

Such a simple idea... But it will be effective. Definitely.

The Dusk Elder once more walked up to Etimmu, who turned towards the Dusk Elder once more.

"Status report."

"The manufacturing of all things have begun or resumed, right in schedule, Lord. We have successfully switched to build new weaponry for our ground forces and everything else we discussed here instead of ships."

"And I take it that the ship yards in Horologii are functional?"

"Yes. The fleet is now being built in Horologii. The same mix as before - transport ships and a few warships. Ah yes, and the orbital bombardment vessels are being built in Horologii as well."

The Dusk Elder seemed to hesitate for a second.

"But there is one thing..."

"You mean the 'hover craft' I said no to earlier?"

"Yes. I think we could squeeze their building somewhere."

"... And where would that be?"

"If I remember correctly, there are vast ground factories upon the planet which the ship yards orbit."

"Hmm. If there were, I have not ordered them to be used for anything."

"If they are indeed there and we find them, can we use them for these?"

"Might as well. But just make sure that the factory base grows. Use a part of them for creating new factories. IF they are there."

"As you wish," said the Dusk Elder and nodded slightly and walked away.

Actually... I remember now. He was right.

The Ur-Quan shipyards had been used to build ships in the first few years that the Ashen Empire had acquired them, but as the majority of those shipyards had been relocated to Sol and to Epsilon Pegasi. The dead did not mine within the Ur-Quan system back then, and they needed to be to placed into areas where they had mining operations in, as that made them less dependent on unreliable transports and the building capacity of those areas needed to be bolstered. In time, the remainder of the shipyards in Horologii were simply refit to build more shipyards, and practically forgotten by the Ermorian leadership.

The situation with the ground facilities had been, as such, even worse, as they had never been used for manufacturing anything that the Ashen Empire could use. The factories had stood silent for years, ever since the conquest of the planet. But the undead Ur-Quan had kept them from falling into disrepair - they had known that they would serve a purpose one day or another. And that had been quite true, they now did serve a purpose. They would bring forth a new element to the legions of the dead.

The manufacturing of all of the more current weaponry and the like had begun and were proceeding at full speed, and the undead had finally begun spreading them to their appropriate targets - the anti-armor weaponry and the grenades to the Wights, the hover craft to assorted transports and to certain other locations, mines to strategic locations within Ermor itself and so on. The star ships would remain where they were manufactured, in Horologii, whilst the vessels meant for orbital bombardment would be spread around in different Ermorian holdings, some even finding their way onto Ermor proper, to wait for a time of use to arrive.

But for many of the initial batches of artillery - and some of the hover craft -, Etimmu knew a better purpose.

They would be placed - rather widely spread - onto the south-western shores of the western Ermorian continent, with some of the hovering vehicles protecting them. Also, since there were many different types of said vehicles, tanks, APCs filled with Wights, mobile artillery and the likes, they would be able to protect the artillery, and when the time is right, use the hover craft for a secondary purpose.

"I take it everything is going as planned, Dusk Elder?"

"Yes, Lord Etimmu. And we have placed artillery upon the shores of the western continent as you ordered, as well as hover vehicles and the like."

After saying thus, the Dusk Elder remained standing next to him, as though expecting something more.

"... And will this affect our capability to wage war?"

"Ah, no. It will not strain us to the least, but it will make sure the living shall not pass to our lands through there, just as you thought, Lord Etimmu. But..."

"But?"

"Are we now to stop placing more armor to the border?"

"Yes."

"Very well."

"Leave."

And so the Dusk Elder did.

The Dusk Elder walked to Etimmu, but this time due to being summoned by the Wraith Lord himself, which had surprised the man quite a bit.

"What is it, Lord Etimmu?"

Etimmu turned to the Dusk Elder.

"I think... Our fleets need a flagship."

"A flagship?"

"Yes. Something worthy of the Ashen Empire," Etimmu said as he turned back to the window, "Our fleets are vast, but our warfleets are not."

"And for this reason we need a flagship?"

"In part, yes. We need to begin raising newer fleets for warfare within space, and we should start by attempting to create the greatest, most destructive vessel we can. Then we can tone it down for the later designs."

"... As you wish, Lord Etimmu."

"Now leave me. I do not want you to return until this project is well under way."

The Dusk Elder nodded in silence, and walked away once more.

"Lord Etimmu..."

Yet again he turned away from the window and towards the Dusk Elder. Who still, oddly enough, was the same. Before they had a tendency to change for whatever reason.

"Yes, Dusk Elder? You have news on our flagship, yes?"

"Yes..."

"And they are positive, am I right?"

The Dusk Elder nodded.

"So. Tell me."

"Well, we apparently have had a project of this sort running..."

Etimmu found this little piece of information rather odd and so ended up talking over the Dusk Elder.

"We have? I can't remember ordering anything about the creation of a flagship before this."

"Yes. That would be because Alcastos gave the order."

For a second, Etimmu turned his head towards the window and said, "... What has that Alcastos, cursed is his name, done?"

"Well. It seems the Dusk Elder under his command had designed ships... Let me read what they said. 'A completely uniquely Ermorian ship... With offensive power unseen in our earlier ships... Under Alcastos' orders. The ship, Trismegistus. Also to be known as the 'Hand of Death'. And those below it... The three Megistus and the numerous Megist.'"

Etimmu growled in anger.

"He is trying to bypass me?"

"It would seem so."

"... And those names..."

"Yes, Lord Etimmu?"

"Nothing. Tell me about these ships."

"Well. It seems the largest of the ships are in the range of several kilometers in size. It boasts an 'impregnible' point defense... 'Beam weaponry'... Powering and propulsion," and as the Dusk Elder read further, suddenly, he became pale and somewhat terrified.

"What is it, Dusk Elder?"

"The point defense... The Trismegistus. It appears they have built it in the shape of an armored fist..."

"Armored fist?"

"... Yes. And the point defense? ... This weapon... What have they done...?"

"Spit it out, Dusk Elder!"

Etimmu's yelling brought the Dusk Elder back to his senses and he quickly regained his composure and continued, "Well, you see, the Trismegistus is ready according to all this... And... It utilizes the most powerful weapon we have ever built. Based on the conversion of emotions into unholy energy we have used as long as we have been in space."

"And this is a bad thing?"

"No, no. Of course not. But... Look at this."

The Dusk Elder gave the datapad to Etimmu.

"A horrid, glowing green spheroid of unholy energy? At the palm of the hand?"

"Yes. If I read that right... This ship must remain unique."

"Hmmm."

"You see, our current ships are simple and use kinetic weaponry because we need many of them. This ship..."

He pointed at the menacing picture of the Trismegistus.

"This ship is different. The more emotion it can drain, the more powerful it becomes."

"But won't this leave the other ships underpowered?"

"No, no. It somehow automatically adjusts to given energy levels. But two would break down the system, and... Read what it says."

Etimmu lowered his gaze at the datapad and began to read.

"... It feeds on all emotions around it?"

"Yes... Not just our hateful emotions towards the living, but also the whole spectrum of emotions of the living. Hate, love, sadness, happiness... Everything is a feeding ground for the Trismegistus."

"That is... Why have we not thought of it before?"

"Actually, we have. But the process is too complex to do it on our regular ships."

"... Ah. So, what needs to be done now..."

Etimmu turned back to watch the fleet.

"Send Alcastos a message that I demand the Trismegistus and its sibling vessels under my command, its schematics and those of its sibling vessels, and that I shall not report his insolence to the Lich Queen nor strip him of his position if he complies."

The Dusk Elder nodded and said, "As you wish, Lord Etimmu." Then he turned and walked away.

Etimmu had travelled to the one star system in the constellation of Horologii which the Ashen Empire currently occupied. Alcastos had agreed he would bring forth the Trismegistus there, but not in Sol. For Sol was too crowded... And the Trismegistus was too powerful for its own good. It would not take much to pick up its trail if it were to show up in a system which is filled to the brim with sentience.

And now, as he for the first time watched the black claw of Ermor, the Hand of Death, the Trismegistus, he felt awe, and an odd feeling of horror crept in the dark, far reaches of his mind. The hand was partly open, and the gigantic sphere of wild unholy energy swirled upon its palm. Its lesser sibling vessels simply paled in comparison, although even they were horribly powerful when compared to their current fleet.

"So THIS is Alcastos' Trismegistus? It is..."

But he could not find the words.

A Dusk Elder stood beside him, and he uttered a simple question:

"Yes, my Lord?"

Etimmu shook his ethereal head.

"I cannot say. I cannot bring forth the words to describe it. 'Terrifyingly magnificient' does not even come close."

Etimmu laughed out manically.

"Yes. Yes. This is truly worthy of the Ashen Empire. We have no need to build anything else. Yes, this shall be the flagship of our grand war fleet."

Etimmu turned his head towards the Dusk Elder.

"Tell Alcastos that we shall need more of these lesser craft. Tell him to continue on his project. I am pleased with what I see."

"As you wish, my Lord," said the Dusk Elder and left hurriedly.

Etimmu turned back to gaze upon the Trismegistus.

Yes, this is... More than I had imagined.

With the reports on the Trismegistus having been made and taken over by Etimmu as she had wanted and the ongoing project to finally connect the great Ermorian fortresses which dotted the barren landscape with underground passageways - both through transporting of some kind and through non-mechanized means - as an additional defensive measure against possible outside incursions, the Lich Queen was content. Everything was advancing just as planned.

The Longdead and the Soulless would soon wander in the cramped "indoors" - no longer would they be susceptible to bombardments, as they would be - and had been - walking in clear sight, upon the wastelands which is Ermor.

The underground passages had been finalized after tireless construction work by the undead of the Ashen Empire, and now the Soulless and Longdead who once wandered upon the Ermorian wastelands no longer could be seen on the ground. They had come to the conclusion that the fortresses were not many enough, and so they had built exits at several key locations which only held small outposts.

But as it were, for the first time in ages, it was possible to travel from the Western Continent to the Eastern Continent without magical means in acceptable time. Before the fall of the Holy Empire, chariots had carried citizens all over the Empire, but the bridges had broken long ago, some due to many millennia of no repairs, some due to the age old war when the Ashen Empire arose from the ashes of the old Ermor, when the living attempted to slow down the marching legions.

The new warfleet had begun to grow with an increased pace as more and more resources were reallocated from the ever growing, already massive transport fleet to this new project, which would make the Ashen Empire a force to be reckoned with even in the void itself.

With the disappearance of the Giltheranese from the Ermorian isles, the undead had begun their advance into the location, which, for as long as they could remember, had been the easiest place anyone could have used to strike against the Ashen Empire, due to the simple facts that it was the only patch of ground close enough to Ermor proper to make a difference.

With absolute haste, the very first Ermorian fortresses were built there as quickly as possible, and some of the many Censors which up until now had held no control over any a location within Ermor were given control over these fortresses. Dusk Elders were brought to create magical barriers which would stop many an orbital bombardment, and the construction and placement of defenses against enemy incursions identical to those on the Ermorian continents had begun. Also, underground passages that would connect the fortresses upon the isles would be constructed. They would use whatever water-based vessels they had - and would construct - for non-magical travel between the continents and the isles.

But as opposed to all other locations the undead controlled, these isles would not be desecrated - not entirely anyway. Indeed, they would remain as what they are, to be used for blood magic, nature magic and the likes by Dusk Elders who still knew the ways of such.

With the Earth-side defenses installed, magical shields casted and fortresses hastily built, the last land area close to Ermor itself was no longer accessable by outsiders without heavy interference. Since the isles were not desecrated quite entirely, darkness and cold customary to the Ashen Empire's dominion were now artificial phenomena in them, created by magic. One would not know when he is in desecrated and when he is in not desecrated land before it would be too late.

Underground - and ones which would go under the seabed - passages between the fortresses of the isles were hastily being made. A tunnel that would connect the Ermorian continents to the isles was also being built.

And with this, the fortress which is Ermor grew stronger.

And so, the tunnels were ready. Ermorian fortresses dotted the once lush forests of the isles, now charred black with the coming of undeath. While life could exist within the isles, it would be quite limited by the effects the coming of the Ermorians had had on them.

In the Ashen Empire's parts which did not reside on Earth, in the space stations and the like, construction of the new war fleet continued. Unlike practically all Ermorian ships before the emergence of Trismegistus, they were to be of excellent quality in Ermorian standards - as those of their kind which had already been built -, lowering the amount that would ultimately be built into the hundreds, a thousand or two at best, not to mention slowing down the process drastically. Once this fleet would be considered strong enough, they would turn their attention towards shoddier warships.

The days of building more quite defenseless transport craft were over.

"... And what is the status on the second Trismegistus?"

The speaker was Alcastos, who was adressing a Dusk Elder with contempt in his cold voice. He sat upon an obsidian throne, as he had for quite some time, in this far away part of the Galaxy, his own little empire in the far reaches of the Ashen Empire. He had a physical body, unlike Etimmu - one which was rather skeletal, with mummified parts of what was left of the soft tissue of his body abhorrently hanging from his skeleton, from his rusted armors, from his torn robe. His dead corpse had seen better days.

This throne room was quite the same as any other room in the Citadel which stood upon a small-ish moon in a distant star system, dark and unwelcoming - the only thing which took it apart from the rest was the location, as it was at highest floor of the structure. t hadn't been decorated at all.

The Dusk Elder he had been conversing with hovered before him almost motionless in the air.

"It is well under way, everything has gone forward well within acceptable limits. The small war which Etimmu was supervising had no effect on our ability to continue our projects. It will be completed within schedule."

"Good, good," said Alcastos slightly amusedly, "Just make sure he hears about this only through the Lich Queen, unlike last time. I do not want him stepping over his boundaries once more. Credit must go where credit is due."

"Of course. We will do our best to keep this out of his sight."

"Excellent. You may go now."

And so, the Dusk Elder disappeared into the darkness, as it hovered downwards in the stairs which lead to the throne room.

The activities of the so called living Dusk Elders were followed with suspicion by their undead peers. Sometimes several of them could disappear for days, even weeks, and then return to their posts, simply claiming having needed some vacation in some undisclosed, but invariably distant location. While this was happening with quite a few of them the undead could not fathom why they acted in this manner.

Were they getting too fond of their status as living creatures? Or were they simply becoming tired due to the stresses of constant work they were expected to do, as they themselves claimed? Why had this activity started now, instead of before, when they had turned to their odd form of life within unlife?

The Lich Queen was dissatisfied by the fact that Xirrath, the one who she had placed as the Ermorian envoy for the Order, habitually did thus now. She had sent for the Dusk Elder to come before her, and bring forth acceptable answers to the accusations that had been made against him - that he did not adequately perform his duties anymore, that he used increasing amounts of time with his kind rather than leading those beneath him. That he was becoming more alive than was acceptable for the dead.

Soon, soon he would arrive to respond to what had been said against him.

As Xirrath slowly walked up the stairs to the throne room of the Lich Queen, he was radiating with an odd aura of confidence - something not too often seen coming forth from beings which were closing in on their moment of judgement. Most would indeed cower in fear, and desire nothing less than being left alone in their own little corners of the Ashen Empire, attempt to make it take just a few moments longer until they would be forced before the Queen.

The only beings, even citizens of the Ermor themselves, which had offended the Empire in some way were summoned thus before her - and he was quite aware of thus.

But he also knew that his allies were awaiting for his sign.

His sign, which would be the transforming of the Lich Queen herself into a living, breathing human, not much unlike himself.

He was already gloating. He could taste his victory. Indeed, he was chanting the spell most silently as he ascended towards the throne room.

Towards his destiny.

And he would grasp it.

Then came the moment, and he saw the Lich Queen, the horrific personification of undeath who commanded the vast Legions of the Ashen Empire. A lesser man would have fallen to his knees and begged for mercy, for death in the front of this horror.

But not him. After all, he had been dead himself for the longest time.

"Your Excellency," he said.

"You are here," uttered the Lich Queen with her cold, most inhuman voice, "Good. You do know why I have summoned you here, yes?"

Xirrath nodded.

"Very good. Then you know that your actions as the leader of the Ashen Empire's section of the Order has been viewed as... Odd."

All that went through his mind was, what an understatement. He knew that the undead were suspicious of his meetings with his... Peers. The dead had not been informed of them, and were somehow kept out of them as well.

"... Yes. I do know this," he said.

"Then I am sure that you are aware that have been stripped of your position and that you are being... Re-evaluated."

"Indeed," replied Xirrath, whilst thinking what was the point of this line of questioning. He knew it wasn't like the Lich Queen to go around things like this. Strange. But he didn't let it break his concentration.

"Now, we have come to the conclusion..."

At that very moment, Xirrath quickly pointed his left hand towards the Lich Queen and uttered the last word of the chant he had been going through within the recesses of his mind whilst "listening" to the Lich Queen.

He could see flesh forming around the skeletal corpse of his old mistress. He had won!

...

Wrong.

It was an illusion, broken by the skeletal hand of the Lich Queen.

"We knew."

Foul air filled the throne room. Momentarily Xirrath felt an odd stinging sensation in the back of his head. Then, as though something painful had begun flowing into his body, as though something was corrupting his very soul.

But it was not quite that.

"You now bear the mark of the Ashen Empire. Betraying it is no longer an option for you. Your allies... Will be dealt with accordingly, of course."

That day, he knew he had lost his final chance at making the Ashen Empire his own. He had, once more, been turned into a puppet.

His failed attempt would soon be forgotten by history.

((OOC: As shall be this thread, as this will be the last post in it.))

((OOC: And whilst I originally did intend to end Ermor there, I, as of late, have had the need to continue its story. I have not managed to contact the current controller of the nation Ermor, however. So, this thread will continue here, with this nation. This nation will be Ermor in the place of Ermor.

Death shall reign once again!)

A long time had passed since the destruction of Xirrath's dream of bringing the Ashen Empire to its knees and taking it over wholesale. He had not realized that where the undead reigned, there was no true escape from them. Xirrath, while alive, was still connected to the Underworld - for his soul been tainted by its darkness.

The order of the living Dusk Elders as a whole had been too much of an asset for the Empire to just kill them. Just like Xirrath, they all had been subjected to the Mark, and were now truly loyal servants of the Ermorian Empire. They were alive, yes, but now they had the same debilitating desire to serve Death as their undead counterparts. Indeed, while they still remained more creative than those who were truly still dead, they were not as creative as they had once been. But it had been deemed an insignificant problem considering the benefits it brought with it.

During this time of practical inaction, the undead had relocated all of their Sol-based manufacturing capability and a grand majority of their space fleet in it to their own star systems, such as the star system in the Horologii constellation. There they would be far less vulnerable to attacks once they would, some day in the future, begin their dark conquest of the known - and unknown - multiverse. There they could also set up defensive systems, not unlike those used by the living, to protect what is theirs, in the case of someone - or something - being able to circumvent the effects of the stars-turned-unholy.

This left Ermor proper itself as the only place the undead controlled within the Sol system - but considering the sheer strength of their defensive platforms and shielding which were protecting it, it was not a problem to the least. They still had a foothold within the beating heart of humanity, and that was good enough for them.

In the times since the destruction of the Order, the Ashen Empire had begun construction of vessels which were based on blueprints derived from that "alliance". Built in a distant and relatively insignificant star system, the fleet had grown to a rather impressive size. The Empire had stated its intent of using them after all - no one probably took it seriously enough to consider the possibility of them ending up using them, however.

Especially not in the numbers they now had, after such a long while of manufacturing them.

Many of the vessels were mockeries of the vessels of the Order, more based on Ermorian amalgamation of magic and technology than what the original designs stated. These vessels were, in general, of weaker stock than the originals - built with the quantity over quality mindset of the Empire as opposed to the Order's own philosophy. Indeed, the fact that they had no shortage of manpower played a large role in how the Empire constructed its vessels. When you have quantity in one place, there is little need to switch from that to quality elsewhere.

With that said, not all of the ships were of these corrupted types. Some were, indeed, near-exact Order vessels. Only differences revolved around removing certain safe-guards the other nations which had been in the Order had implemented into them, as to make it so that when the Order would fall... Ships built by them could not be used by the other nations.

--

Elsewhere, mass production of external shells for longdead which had been inspired by the encounters with the Necrons had begun in full force. While such shells had been built for quite some time within the Empire, never before had they been built in such numbers. The quality was, mostly, shoddy at best, but these shells still made the otherwise fragile frames (them being skeletons) of the longdead much more durable.

In addition to that, the longdead were given new weapons, once again technically inspired by the Necrons. This with the addition of actual armoring was to make them an actual usable force on the battlefield rather than just a minor distraction for possible enemies to shoot at and give them the numbers that were needed to make their use actually feasible.

And with that, the Ashen Empire's power simply continued to grow.