NationStates Jolt Archive

The intrusion had been jarring, an unexpected occurrence that had been met with fear and curiosity, and anger.

The beauty, the purity, of Thailos had been marred, it's purity destroyed; the fall from celestial was cause for humiliation, and infuriation.

The outlying Guard stations had detected the presence shortly after it passed the Outer Rim Asteroid Belt; in a span of time almost immeasurable, the..invader's existence was known on the Thailos homeworld. Sweet-smelling smoke floated out of the open roofs of Temples within minutes in a desperate plea to the Founder's: What were they to do?

Others had taken a more immediate, and perhaps more practical, route, and so it was that before the intruder had passed the second tier of the Guard, a small armada was barreling at the incoming object like a swarm of hornets.

Against the blackness of space, the ships passed like specters with their smooth, onyx-black hull replicating the vast expanse of stars that stretched to eternity. Only as they passed within a dozen miles of the sacred Cradle, where their pitch exterior was a stark contrast to the nubela's billowing red and yellow, was their appearance readily discernible, like some great bird of prey from long ago: the larger ships each had a long, narrow, hawk-nosed superstructure with two swooping wings that jutted downward, partially outstretched.



Within minutes, the ships would be ready for a Jump, which would propel them to the outer regions of the Star Kingdom, where they would face the intrusion, and stop it.

[tag]

The vessel was as yet unaware of the incomming armada, and even if it were it could not avoid the inevitable. The vessel, HEV Coronet, was a light research vessel on a mission to explore a region of space on the edge of Imperial space. All signs had pointed to the area being uninhabited, and so a ship that didn't even have a warp drive was sent to investigate.

Captain Timothy Bach stroked his short, black hair and shifted in his seat, trying to find a comfortable position. It was his first assignment, and actualy his first ever sojourn in space. "Sensors, reading anything?" He turned to face his Sensors officer.

"No, Captain. It appears just like the scientists in Astropolis said it would. We don't detect any life."

His insticts told him otherwise, but he had to go along with it anyways. He'd heard of times when new captains were ambushed by other Imperial vessels in seemingly uninhabited regions of space, and he wanted to avoid the humiliation. But he knew, or thought he knew, that even were he ambushed by his friends, he would still be alive afterwards, and took comfort in that thought.

It happened, as it always did, with such rapidity as to almost overwhelm the mind. The five ships made their Jump synchronous with a precision that only their quasi-linked consciousness made possible.

The Jump commenced without complication, although still something was different; the consciousness, the focus, remained with the ships. It had not withdrawn, had not been diverted; it remained, intent, singular.

Their weapons had fired exactly seven seconds after coming out of Jump, which was also a peculiarity, although their target would not know, would not recognize it. The time required for the onboard computers to perform a 500 mile radial scan, which served to validate the ships' position and the safety of it's current course as well as for the computer to provide the weapons system would appropriate targets as delegated to it, was exactly 3 seconds.

For four seconds - which in this case, where literally thousands of minds were focused on this small region of space, was nothing short of eternity - the ships did nothing. Appearing less than a hundred miles from the intruder, the five ships merely watched; for four seconds, simply...observing. Not quite shock, and certainly not just curiosity. The ship, relatively small in comparison, represented Darkness coming for an assault prophecied by the Founder's. It was a realization of thousands of years of religious text, a fulfillment.

For four seconds, the vessel were studied, every detail passing into unending memory.

Then, as if being startled awake, the ships opened fire.

From each ship's fifteen concealed weapons tubes came bright flashes of yellow-tinted blue, fired in rapid succession in trios: tracking the signature of the vessel through their own targeting computer, as well as a direct link from the main computers of each ship, the warheads quickly consumed the distance toward their target, as if sharing the hatred of their operators, as if they themselves were anxious for the kill.

Captain Bach saw the ships on the viewscreen, magnified by a telescope. He instantly realized that they were not of Imperial design, and the first thing he remembered from the Imperial Officer Training School was that all unknown vessels were to be reported, for later study and analysis. Contact was to be made while the report went off.

"Unknown vessels..." was all the Captain got off before he noticed the weapons fire. "Helm, full spead ahead! Weapons, shields online now! All hands, brace for impact!" But that wasn't enough.

The ship accelerated rapidly, running as prey does from predator, but in the end it was a futile effort. The missiles easily outran the research vessel and penetrated both the shield and hull in one deadly stab. They then exploded in a beautiful ball of yellow and orange and red, with bits of silver and gray thrown in from the ship's debris. The air on the Coronet quickly burnt out, and all that was left was an unrecognizable cloud of metal.

_______

Meanwhile, Imperial Command recieved the last transmission from the Coronet and thought over what they should do. Thirty minutes after the Coronet was lost, an orbital telescope zoomed in on the last reported position and found the cloud of debris. The threat board was lit up, and the system designatated Fringe-42 suddenly had the words Uknown Hostiles stamped on it.

A task force was being pieced togethor to investigate, though that would take a day or two. For now, analysts went over the facts, information was exchanged, and the ships called for the task force departed their normal patrols and started meeting up.

The ships waited briefly, pausing only long enough for one final study of the Intruder, before the small armada vanished, and the consciousness relaxed...only now, it was not a recluse. Once more in isolation, yet no longer alone.

The eight-thousand year old A'linvlz text laid down by the Founder's had warned of Outsiders, of Aliens; had warned of the danger of the distant stars. This threat had dominated all thought in Thailos for millennia; billions inhabited the homeworld, living in sprawling, spectacular cities...only they were underground. Study of the Outside was restricted, delegated to those charged with the defense of Thailos, and even then the scope of this task extended little beyond the Outer Rim.

Thailos was their Home, one the Founder's had charged them to defend. What occurred Outside was of no concern; but within their realm, there was to be no trespass, no blasphemous intrusion on their sacred home.

Or so it had been - and still seemed to be. For the spark of interest, the curiosity stirred at the sight of that small vessel, was buried so deep, so far down in their consciousness as to be almost non-existent. And yet this knowledge, this revelation, did exist.

And now that distant threat would be investigated, studied, and interrogated at close range.

The task force, recently named Special Investigative Task Force 3 (SITF-3), had been assembled, the captains and general briefed, and sent on its way. SITF-3 was composed mainly of the newer vessels, though only three of twenty ships were equiped with the coveted cloaking device. And those three were all frigates, which made up twelve of SITF-3s number. Another four slots were filled by heavy cruisers, with the remaining two slots being filled by Visigoth and Ostrogoth, twin carriers with five hundred fighters divied up between them. It was a small division--the Imperial Space Force used army terms, such as division and general, rather than naval ones. Except for ships, for those were still ships.

SITF-3 slipped quietly out of Imperia Prime, the Imperial homeworld-in-exile, and engaged their warp drives, distorting space and time around the ships so that the space behind the ship moved forward, and the space in front of it retreated, thus causing the ships in the bubble to move forward without really moving. It would have been better to use a wormhole, but no wormhole link had been transported to the system they would investigate. Besides, the link would be easy to attack.

A short time later, the ships disengaged their warp drives and the space around them returned to its normal self. As in all investigations of possible hostile species, shields went up, missile bays were readied, and all personnel not required for sensors would be sent to either weapons or damage control parties. A single probe was launched from the Visigoth, aimed into the offending region, and the search for clues began.

The arrival of this much larger, and alarmingly more formidable threat swept through the Thailos consciousness like a tidal wave. Thailos had remained an unchallenged Guardian for millennia, seeking protection in obscurity. With efficiency and relative ease, the singular threat posed by the previous vessel had been dealt with; Thailos was once again forever secure. Or so they had thought.

Now, a new threat had emerged; indeed, two. For even more serious than the arrival of this new invasion was a second danger: the danger of indecision in a society in which no individual is truly that is ruinous. For eight hours, the stars glittered, undisturbed; for eight hours, a false serenity enveloped the Thailos.

The single probe passed into what was known as the Outer Rim, past the silent Vanguard, past the huge expanse outlying asteroid and planetary colonies, and approached the Orb, Thailos itself, the center of all life.

Only then, as the arrival of this...thing to their birthplace, to the Temples of the Founder's, the spring of life and existence, did decisiveness regain control. There could be no future debate. These things were after that which they had been charged as Guardians, that much was clear.

First came the swift attack on the probe; from within cavernous bays concealed within the small belt of asteroids encircling the two innermost planets came a small, rectangular-shaped object, hardly more than three meters in length. Powered by a relatively rudimentary computer, the object's capabilities extended little further than intercepting an object. Much of it's bulk was given over to propulsion, which enabled it to quickly speed away from it's lair, propelling itself away from Thailos toward's the lone probe.

At the same time, a similar situation was unfolding, farther out and on a much larger scale.

Emerging from the womb of a dozen asteroids so immense as to be comparable to small moons came a staggered formation of angular warships, with a pointed tip that widened with jagged feature to a broad aft end dominated by thin-slitted engines. With it's almost miniscule profile, the ship's were extremely hard to see with the naked eye when viewed head-on, or from the side. They were the lumbering cruisers of the Vanguard fleet, slightly aged yet still potent.

Around these 200m long cruisers from an increasingly agitated swarm of ships: nimble, agile vessels; slightly larger and completely automated escorts; disc-shaped guardships capable of firing with surprising rapidity a sphere-spread of weapons fire, with no blind spot save a small portion housing it's small engines.

And most numerous of all were the same rectangular objects that had been dispatched toward the probe before.

All crept with increasing speed from their lair, moving out to confront the ships encroaching on their home system.

General John Stukov commanded the Special Investigative Task Force 3, and he had been watching the visual sensors on the probe when it suddenly blinked off. He had neither the training or the will to watch the various other sensors readouts, and it took one of his sensor officers to tell him what happened. "General, the probe appears to have lost contact upon being destroyed. Radio and laser sensors report an object on an intercept course with the probe. Scans on the planet's surface have not yielded anything about life on its surface. Some unusual sensor readings below the surface, but those could be jamming signals from that object."

The General turned, thinking a little. "Any chance they live underground?" The sensors officer shook his head, and looked at the data. "Initial sensors readings suggest that the anomoly on the planet is jamming from that object. Scans on a nearby asteroid reveal what appears to be a base, and course plots on the object indicate it may have been launched from that location. No data on other asteroids, however. Wait! Long range scanners on the probe indicate a gathering of what appears to be starships on an intercept course with the division. Unknown number, and unknown classification. The readings were faint, but definite starships. I advise we prepare for a first-contact."

The General nodded. "I agree. Weapons, launch our compliment of fighters and advise Visigoth to do so also. Launch another probe, have it broadcast a peaceful message."

Another probe went out, this time broadcasting the same message over and over:

This is General John Stukov of the Star Empire on a peaceful mission to discover what happened to our vessel, HEV Coronet. We do not wish to resort to violence, and we hope to make contact.

The second probe was detected; it's message was not. Rather, an electronic disturbance was noted, but it's significance and purpose could not be determined: communicating in such a method was incomprehensible.

Instead, it's arrival's was noted to coincide with the appearance of the fighters.

Shooting out of the underbelly of one of the larger ships of the fleet came a tube-shaped object, glistening silver, it's metallic and clear hull reflecting the lights of a million distant stars. It travelled at high velocy, albeit sublight speed, toward the intruding swarm like a bullet; halfway it's small engines died, allowing it's momentum to propel it forward at an unwavering speed. It broadcast no electronic message, as such an idea was alien to Thailos.

Indeed, it would emit no information, and offer little to be gathered from itself, for it had little to offer. It's simple design housed nothing more than an engine...and a lifeform, disposable, worthless, an inferior to the Thailos; it's purpose was simply to provide a pair of eyes to the distant but ever attentive consciousness of billions, to see these Intruders.

The pod, after hours of travel slowed substantially, eventually reaching a standstill once within visible range of the fleet. And then it hung in space, like so much space debris.

And they watched.

The General had been awake too long, watching and waiting for something to happen for hours. His Sensors officer had long since warned him of the foreign probe, and Sensors's next move jarred the General from near sleep. "General, contact Sierra-One has stopped. Sensors detect some type of lifeform, unknown classification. It's inside visual range, so maybe this lifeform is some type of primitive." Another day, another issue. Should he send someone aboard and risk angering an alien race? Or should he destroy the probe, it possibly being a trap or something malicious? Decisions, decisions...

"Weapons, send a small boarding vessel to the probe. If we have any men with foreign-relations training, send them with them. Inform your men to only fire if fired upon, and have concealed weapons to appear less intimidating. Let's hope this goes well."

Another vessel, this one being the third, and, hopefully, the charm. Five men, four of which were soldiers, boarded the boxy boarding craft and zoomed toward the alien object. The Ostrogoth, from which they launched, activated her warp drive and the boarding craft gained a large speed boost as it traveled through the distorted space created in the carrier's wake. But then it hit the edge of the bubble and had to slow down, lest it break the rules of pysics.

The decision to destroy the probe was made instantaneously with the decision to Jump.

Without warning, the probe began to disintigrate, as if it was consuming itself. Small hints of explosions appeared as the hull split apart, leaving the probe a mess of jangled components and metal, spiralling outward forcefully.

And before the relentless vacuum of space had even finished devouring the oxygen from within, the twenty-seven ship fleet flashed out of sight, appearing several hours later a distance of seventy-thousand miles from the Intruders, although to the small crew present on the Thailos fleet, the time interval was much shorter.

In the time that had passed since this second invasion had appeared, a small debate had taken place between those who viewed these intruders as fulfilling the prophecy of the Threat foreseen by the Founders, and those who felt that, despite being barren of any sacredness, these unknowns nevertheless should not be destroyed.

It was because of this indecision that the Thailos fleet was now approaching the intruders at sub-light speed, a rate at which would require several days travel to reach their destination.

Who are you?

The probing question flashed out at the intruding ships like a bolt of lightning, disappearing with such speed as to make one question if it had ever even existed.

It was squashed, this dissent from the conscious collective, this rebellious voice that had broken from the Council's decision. It was a betrayal to the Thailos, a display of brash, selfish individualism unheard of; indeed, for many even the possibility of such an act was unthinkable, their ability to do so never realized.

It was jarring for the Thailos, but quickly smothered.

And there was nothing the SITF-3 could do but wait. The SITF noted that the opposing fleet--army in ISF terms--had jumped away, then started approaching now at sub-light speeds on conventional drives. Situation rooms on many of the SITF's ships plotted the course, speed, and any other relevant data the long-range sensors picked up, which was nothing, really. It was difficult to even make out one ship from the other, and nearly impossible to tell if one ship had weapons powered up or not. Out of boredom, the General ordered his ships to move around in a random fashion. Fighters were recalled, and alertness dropped a bit.

To quash any further sparks of rebelliousness, the Council directed the fleet to head out and meet the intruder's before they had further opportunity to strike; their blasphemous powers to strike at the Thailos consciousness was already being denounced by the Council; it was clear, of course, that these unknown ships served some old enemy of the Founder's, and as such it was their duty to preserve Thailos.

They flashed out of sight, Jumping through space, and perhaps time, like a pack of wolves lunging to kill. Thailos was now bent on what it considered to be vengeance.

The Sensors officer on the Ostrogoth, General Stukov's command ship, immediotly noticed the Thailosian ships depart his screen. He waited a few moments, scanning over his data once more, deciding that the Thailosians had activated a FTL drive and were hell-bent on reaching the SITF. He turned to the General. "Sir, long range sensors are showing the alien fleet activating an FTL drive of some sort. Data suggests that they are heading towards us. I recommend we go to DEFCON One." Stukov considered his officer's words, and agreed. "I concur. Weapons, inform the SITF we are at DEFCON One. Launch all fighters and get weapons ready. Get our cloakers cloaked."

The three frigates in the Task Force fired up their cloaking devices, cut down immessions of all types, and maintained full radio silence. These ships then zoomed several kilometers below the rest of the formation before cutting off their engines and drifting on momentum. The rest of the fleet activated sensor jamming systems, such as radar jammers, powered up weapons, and waited.

Coming out of the Jump eighty miles short of the enemy fleet, the ships appeared like knives stabbing through the blanket of space.

Immediately the twelve larger arrow-shaped cruisers were surrounded by a defensive sphere composed of the smaller fighter-sized vessels, with the larger escort ships taking position in trios around the cruisers, with the disc-shaped gunships on either side of the fleet, slightly leading.

Directly between the two fleets, the rectangular, blocky ships - each four meters in length, ugly mechanical creations. They shot ahead towards the enemy fleet, their junkain crew steering them at the larger enemy ships by visual navigation as well as by guidance from the Thailos commanders on the cruisers, as well as those on the Vanguard stations who sensed the consciousness of the enemy crew which, although quite foreign, was nevertheless very much alive. The blocky ships were heavily armored, and filled with explosives; piloted by members of the inferior junkain caste, they were designed to simply collide with an enemy ship, it's large dense mass designed to bore into the enemy's skin deeply before exploding.

They hurtled through space with three blocky ships sharing a target, as the main fleet advanced at a slower speed.

The boxy ships rapidly approached a range at which the Task Force would have to fire back, and the General had to make a decision. The weight of command, the weight of the lives he might lose or take, made this decision a hard one, but he had decided. "This is General Stukov. All ships, prepare to repell unknown vessels. Fire a warning shot." And so it was written, and so it was done.

The Task Force formed a sphere about the two carriers, defending them with all their might. Fighters arced out toward the boxy ships that raced forward, firing shots over their bow to try and warn them away. Once the boxy ships reached twenty miles distance, the Task Force would open fire. Weapons trained on them in anticipation, but no trigger-happy gunner fired.

The blocky vessels rocketed towards their target unabated; their pilots knew only the will of the Thailos, which was to draw blood with what were essentially manned torpedoes, which accelerated as they closed to 30 miles distance, their engines flaring as they pushed forward to 7,000 MPH.

In their wake came the cruisers and escorts, prowling fifty miles away, the Thailos waiting to see the damage their throwaway junkain did against these unknown foes.

OOC: Sorry for the short posts, not a lot of time. Expect better ones this week. :)

Once more the crushing weight of command threatened to squash General Stukov. The opposing army--he couldn't think in terms of enemy yet--had just passed 30 miles with no sign of stopping, even after he fired warning shots. That meant that the other side was dead serious, not trying to spook him. And so he was forced to take action, though that action would be failry limited, considering the speeds the manned torpedoes were reaching. Just as the torpedoes started accelerating, he gave the order. "All ships, weapons are free. Repeat, all ships, weapons are free. Stukov out."

The fighters, laying in wait behind the torpedoes, opened up with their lasers as the capital ships unleashed a hail of fire from batteries of laser weapons, all of them protecting the carriers. It was these craft that gave the SITF-3 a slight advantage over the enemy--the General had come to think of them as that now--and they had to be defended at all costs.

The torpedoes struck two of the heavy cruisers, both of which escaped relatively unscathed, although with a penetrated hull and shields down. No weapons systems were damaged, thankfully, and the damage was not enough for serious concern. Four of the frigates, however, were nearly ripped in half from the torpedoes, suffering extensive hull and weapons damage. It was amazing that the ships could even limp along. These ships formed a sort of emergency rear gaurd, providing only their laser batteries for defensive purposes.

The damage done, the task force opened up on the opposing army--fleet in almost every other nation--gunning for the heavy cruisers. The fighters swarmed in on the enemy fleet, converging from all directions. They, too, aimed for the heavy cruisers. It was hoped that by knocking these out first, the rest of the army would capitulate easily.

The concept of a quick, agile fighter was one Thailos had not long pursued; their smallest vessels, comparable in size but lacking somewhat in speed, had nevertheless not been designed to engage similar-sized starcraft. Created to navigate through the dense asteroids that circled much of the Thailos system, they possessed a thick protective hull and a rudimentary "shield" to protect it from fragmented rock and debris.

Now, facing these enemy fighters, they were quickly outmatched(and heavily outnumbered), their primary weapons - a small tracking torpedo - barely able to match the quick maneuvers of their prey. Their only advantage was the collective conscious of the Thailos, which allowed them to perform intricate, complex and thoroughly planned formations designed to block their attacks against the cruisers as much as possible, sometimes resorting to simply trying to collide with enemy fighters.

The sphereships were far better equipped to deal with the threat of the fighters with their wide, rapid-firing arc; flashes of light danced from ship to ship as they let loose a continuous barrage at the fighters.

Meanwhile, the cruisers and their automated escortships simply ignored the fighters; they had little defense against them, other than their support ships and thick defenses.

Passing like a shark through the heated skirmishes being waged, they closed on the main fleet; the Thailos had observed the crippling of the frigates, and directed their junkain to carry out another wave, caring little for the previous ones lost to the enemy's laser fire; they then turned their attention to the largest of the enemy ships, whose lasers were bristling.

Never before had the Thailos encountered anything like these ships; their beams of light cut into their hull, occasionally striking one of the weaker sections and boring deeply into the cruisers; however, meeting them as dead-on as possible, the cruisers maneuvered so that the brunt of the weapons fire hit their heavily-guarded fore section, where the thick armor and shielding was better able to absorb the attack. Still, they took losses; a half dozen of their automated escorts vaporized into clouds of fine particles; one cruiser began drifting onto it's side, veering away with a web of explosions spreading across it's port-side. Another lost a chunk of it's hull, the lasers chewing a roughly triangular section off and sending it in a spiraling trajectory into the abyss.

The enemy had been met...but not conquered; they were not like the others who had come - the explorers and scientists who the Thailos thought of only as intruders, as invaders. These ships had drawn blood. The Thailos again felt, as a whole, a wave of doubt, followed instantly by the judgement and condemnation of the Council. There was a short pause in the offensive of the fleet - so miniscule as to be almost impossible to detect - until the Thailos conscious again threw itself at the enemy, directing their fleet to combat the threat as best they could, all the while working to close the gap distancing the two foes.

The battle had no discernable victor yet, and the maze-like command center on the Ostrogoth tried to make order from chaos, tried to bend that order to the Empire's will. Dozens of tacticians, analysts, psychologists, and any manner of other experts tried to discover in the shortest timespan possible every observable trait this alien people exhibited. They reported on the effectiveness of every unit, friend or foe, and used this information to advise Genearl Stukov.

The spherical vessels the enemy employed had proven effective against the fighter craft, and so the card up the General's sleeve had to be played early. The three cloaking frigates had, as of yet, not seen any action; that was quickly rectified, as the General ordered them to decloak and charge for the enemy spherical vessels. These newer frigates closed to firing distance and let off a salvo of a few antimatter torpedoes, rather than the traditional beam of light, which they hoped would eleminate the anti-fighter groups. The fighters, in the mean time, vectored away from the deadly spheres and swarmed the rear of the cruisers, which, it appeared, were not as well armored as the front.

The friendly cruisers still pounded the enemy with their large laser batteries, but they had begun to take losses. The cruiser Horatii exploded in massive fireball, dying even as it expanded. The fighters had also taken losses; about 75 of the nimble craft had met unfortunate ends, joined by the destruction of two of the crippled frigates. Overall, the tactical picture had not changed much, though victory now hung on a very sensitive scale, and even a spec of dust could change the fate of the battle.

The Thailos had felt their presence from the beginning: the presence of thought, of life, in what appeared to be an otherwise empty sector of space. Was it some menacing weapon of the enemy, or an anomoly?

The ships had ignored it as they tried to puncture the defenses of the enemy; when the frigates unwrapped themselves from the concealing embrace of their cloaking devices, the response was quick, but too late.

Three sphereships disappeared almost as quickly as the frigates had appeared, flashing out of existence; a fourth's engines were hit by the expanding debris, leaving it crippled.

Focus shifted immediately to deal with this new threat, as well as the pincer-movement of the fighters, now stinging them like wasps on their less protected flank. The automated escorts immediately circled back to engage the fighters, firing slate-gray cylindrical warheads designed to explode in a cloud of destruction as it closed to point-blank range of it's target.

The leading cruiser, the tip of the knife with which the Thailos sought to decapitate the enemy, abruptly shifted it's firing patterns; fluidly, the other cruisers followed suit.

The Thailos could not read the exact thoughts of a mind; even within their own collective conscious, such a specific knowledge was beyond their near hive-mind; the minds of the enemy, alien, foreign, made this even more impossible. It did not matter. The intricate web the enemy ships danced had been observed, and sense had been made of it. The enemy did not communicate as they did: some sort of technological method was used, but still there existed a focal point for it all.

The Thailos used impulses more general than words, specific impressions; they could make little sense of the communications of the enemy fleet, but they could recognize, could see the existence, of these same impulses that accompanied their technological communication. Throughout the battle, the distant participants - some directly coordinating the fleet, others simply observing through the eyes of those actually onboard the ship - had studied the enemy. At last they had agreed that the Council, or whatever they enemy's called their leaders, had to be aboard the Vaznin, "Giant", the impression with which the Thailos had labeled the larger carrier Ostrogoth.

Now, the knife-shaped cruisers focused their firepower on that sole target, dedicating their reserves of torpedoes against the behemoth from which had poured so many of the fighters.

There were only minutes left in the life of the Ostrogoth, a fact which was uniformly recognized by the entire task force. The order did not have to be given, as it was already being enacted as the intercoms chimed in. "All hands, abandon ship! All hands, abandon ship!" The General managed to escape to an escape pod, but an explosion nearby shredded the hull of the small craft, and the General died a terrible death in the vacuum of space, his body ripping apart in a cloud of flesh and blood. An implant in his body determined he was dead, and informed both Imperial High Command and the second in command, Colonel Ron Hart. The carrier was split in two, one half disentigrating in a hail of fire and steel, the other drifting along, the dying screams of the trapped crew the only thing audible over the command network.

According to the unusual laws that governed death in battle and the assumption of command, the Colonel was promoted to General, and the battle raged on. The Colonel/General was located on the Visigoth, the Ostrogoth's twin. His general staff wasn't as good as General Stukov's, but his own analytical abilities made up for that. It was time, he saw, to either win or die, and he had to get those blasted cruisers. "This is General Ron Hart. As you know, General Stukov has just died. Do not let the death of him and our other allies be in vain. Fight on, strike hard, and let the enemy know fear. Now go! Make these alien bastards piss their pants!" Though a short speech, and a crude one, it struck the same nerve in every soldier in the Task Force. Each man thought Fuck these alien bastards!, and feelings of fear and doubt were replaced with unbriddled rage.

In a final charge, every ship in the task force manuevered forward, even the crippled frigates and the carrier, each healthy vessel moving to encircle their foe and rain death upon him. Almost all of their fire was aimed at the cruisers, laser, missile, and torpedo, and the General hoped to fight the battle to a stalemate or victory. Oh God, he prayed, let me win.

The Thailos watched with cool observance as a fiery explosion engulfed the Ostrogoth, its force breaking the carrier apart. Soon, the entire enemy force would fall into chaos, and the threat would be gone.

Only, the fleet did not collapse; instead, the enemy rallied, gaining strength and not losing it; pushing forward instead of falling back. The destruction of their leaders had not brought about their swift end, and the Thailos were stunned.

The cruisers faltered against the sudden and unexpected push; the retaliation was swift and absolute; within an hour of the Ostrogoth's destruction, one cruiser had been destroyed, and another was battling to stay alive with it's structural integrity threatened.

The cruisers at the front began to fall back, allowing the Fluffywuffy ships to advance while the cruisers in the rear angled to hit them from the side, splitting the Fluffywuffy fleet's firepower. The sphereships shot forward, their weapons raking the underbelly of the fleet, moving to attack their rear.

The General/Colonel saw the Thailosian ploy, and it looked to him like a page from Hannibal's playbook, sucking his line back and encircling the Romans. Well, two could play at this game.

The new plan had the ships in the front stop pursuing the enemy, letting the enemy ships retreat as long as they wanted to. It would have been a brilliant play had the General not remembered the battle of Cannae and Hannibal's own retreat, but the General knew that by not advancing he wasn't doing anything decisive on his part, either.

The cruisers retreat slowed, following their enemy's lead, allowing their escorts to continue their biting attacks while the cruisers split in half; the two groups advanced, one arcing above, the other below, the enemy fleet.

General Hart saw the enemy's intentions again. Encirclement was not a move that either side had successfuly employed, and so the General would resort to a much different tactic.

Once again, the main body of the fleet retreated from the cruisers, accelerating to try and keep out of weapons range. The fighters, however, did not retreat; they stayed and stung the enemy like the deadly wasps they were. After a few minutes of keeping up this tactic, the fleet turned to reengage the enemy. The frigates held the line while the cruisers and fighters concentrated their firepower on a single sector of the battle, one of the cruiser formations.

Oh God, the General prayed, I hope their past wars didn't go anything like ours. Once again the General hoped his knowledge of past military history would aid him in this phase of the battle. If not, he was doomed.

A mere matter of hours had passed during which time the two fleets had exchanged blows, but impatience was growing in the Council; the thirteen figures who dominated the collective mind of the Thailos, who provided the guidance and direction granted them by the Founders out of a necessity to provide focus, seethed with fury. Their charge was to defend against the alien threat the Founders had foreseen, and so far they had failed in their duty.

The orders directed to the Rim was bristling with wrath and anger, and was immediately followed; from the pockmocked asteroids of the vast, expansive belt appeared shafts of light; concealed doors had opened, exposing a red illuminated interior. The asteroids for temporarily surrounded by bright crimson auras, before the lights flickered once, then vanished: a second light, four pulsing lights followed; they signalled the departure of four invisible weapons shooting towards the distant stars and the unseen battle.

The Thailos fleet spiralled away from the SITF-3, like flies fleeing a disturbance in the air, as the near-invisible beams closed on the remaining Vasnin, flung from the asteroid belt at the speed of light, each, to Thailos technology at least, almost completely invisible: self-contained Rard, or darkness, pods, lacking any physical shape, each nothing more than an electromagnetic weapon held in a concentrated form by a thin shield.

The men in the SITF-3 cheered and yelled and partied for a few seconds, for they had achieved victory over an alien force. "Look at them run! We have won!" were the men's cries. But they had not won, and, so it seemed, would soon lose. The Rard pods were detected at a distance allowing possible escape, ghostly faint though the signals were. However, computer filtering technology on the sensing devices classified the Rard pods in the same way that high-powered radar classified flies: unworthy of being displayed.

The electromagnetic weapon that were the Rard pods assaulted the Special Investigative Task Force Three with a sudden and unexpected fury, knocking out communications, weapons, shielding, and various other technology all across the board. The Force was about as helpless as a newborn infant, so total was the blackout.

The Thailos fleet seized the opportunity granted them by the Vanguard weapons stations by concentrating all their firepower in a dense volley on the carrier's center, grouping themselves in three distinct formations to form a perimeter around the temporarily disabled enemy fleet, pummeling them without relent, while millions observed from the distant planets of Thailos: surely this would be the final victory over the intruders, the last battle of the Guardians against the alien threat.

The Imperial soldiers all said a collective prayer of forgiveness, swore, and cursed those alien aggressors. Couldn't they see we didn't pursue them? Couldn't they see we just wanted to find our lost ship? Well, it doesn't matter, for we'll be dead in a few moments.

And that thought became reality. The Thailosian fleet absolutley decimated the forces of Fluffywuffy, ripping the remaining ships into billions of tiny fragments. Eerie flames burning on the escaping air from ships floated about the battle--slaughter--as the helpless ships took their beating. Only a single "lucky" survivor remained; trapped inside a drifting section of hull, he was doomed to die horribly by suffocation rather than instantly by enemy weapons.

________

Far away, in Astropolis, the Imperial capital city, ministers, advisors, and conspiracy theorists gathered to discuss the apparant loss of the SITF-3, complete with the two carriers and the most modern frigates in the services. Some argued that the entire Imperial military should be summoned together, shipped off to this alien menace, and smack them down. Other argued that diplomats should be sent to come to some accord with these alien people. Still other argued that their political party should come to power, as it was apparant that the other party was using this defeat to wipe out dissenters.

The void of space extinguished the last burning embers of the chaos that had been the enemy fleet; the stars glittered, their distant pinpricks providing a jarring contrast to the mass of wreckage that was spiralling outward erratically.

The intruder had been destroyed again, but at great cost: nearly half of the entire fleet had been destroyed or crippled, brought to the brink of extinction by the enemy's devastating attacks. The battle ships of the Thailos had never before faced such an enemy; their encounters with space pirates, smugglers and occasional explorers had ended with the rapid decimation of the intruding presence. SITF-3 had endured what should have been an immediate defeat, had indeed almost overwhelmed them.

This was a knowledge not lost to the Council; Thailos was vulnerable to these aliens, intruders who surely sought that which the Founder's had entrusted to them. The fleet waited an hour patrolling the wreckage, systematically destroying the larger pieces of debris to ensure no hidden traps remained, then, as one, vanished back into Thailos, to nurse their wounds and prepare for their next step.

The Council of Lords convened, and the matter of utmost importance was to decide just what to do with these aliens. The Council was the Emperor's immediate advisors and ministers, and, in some cases, would vote to decide on something if the Emperor could not. The Council of Lords was chaired by Defense Minister Jack Stewart of the Imperial Space Forces. He had that soldierly appearance; his hair was cut short in the military way, he was tall, well built, and wore his uniform as a badge of honor. Hand him an assault rifle and tell him to go kill someone and he would look the part--and probably be able to do the deed.

The Minister paced around the long table that seated the various Ministers, Lords, and, of course, the Emperor himself at the head of the table. He had had aides set up charts and graphs and hologram projectors so that he could argue his point effectively. When he spoke, he used his best command voice. It was the voice that said, "obey me," and, more often that not, the voice won the day. But today he faced stiff resistance from the Council, and he had to make his point clear and concise.

"Gentlemen, my Emperor, you are aware why we are here. I will not go over that again, for that would just be a formality. The Special Investigative Task Force Three, as you are aware, was well equiped for combat. However, that mainly came from having two carriers and the most modern ships we had assigned to it," the Defense Minister pointed to some chart and graphs behind him, "As you can see, the Task Force represents a pitance of the size of the Imperial Space Forces, with the exception of the carriers. Data transmitted from the battle," he pointed to a holographic projector showing the battle raging, "indicates that, for a small force they were able to do great harm to the enemy. Initial estimates place enemy losses at roughly half of their ships, based on both long-range scanners and data transmitted from the battle right before its conclusion. Not all of those ships were destroyed; some were crippled. Based on this information, one must wonder what a real army with heavier ships would do. I and my analysts have debated this for a long time, and we have come to the conclusion that the Imperial military is fully capable of defeating this foreign menace. Based upon what we believe to be an attack on a science vessel of ours by this alien people, I believe sending diplomats would just end up with more innocents killed." The Defense Minister sat down.

In place of the Defense Minister came Foreign Minister Raloh Enzo, a pacifist if there ever was one. His face was warm, inviting, and proclaimed a desire to solve all of the Empire's foreign problems with pieces of paper. He, too, was tall and had a type of power, but his power lay in his words being trusted and papers being signed, not blowing someone's head off with an assault rifle. His aides set up the holographic projector to show a selected video feed from the battle, and show the statements of some of the SITF-3s investigative officers conclusions. He played these before continuing.

"As you can see, gentlemen, several investigative officers--before being killed--concluded that the destruction of our science vessel in the region may have been the result of innocent causes. Faulty construction, a freak accident, heck, even a stray meteor. That said, these aliens may have destroyed the ship. But look at it from their point of view: we are intruding on their lands uninvited. They could see us as invaders. If they did destroy the ship, our forces showing up just off their space with two carriers is justification for their act, from their point of view. After all, who but invaders send two carriers to investigate the loss of a science vessel? They defend their space and their people from these invaders, and they then turn back after they stay for a bit. It is obvious that they have no hostile intent. I, therefore, propose that we attempt communication with them. We can try to work out our differences, explain that the whole thing was a big mistake, and live happily ever after, with no war. I have already prepared a diplomatic team to prepare several messages, and I can attempt communication at once. That is what I propose, and I hope you see reason."

The Foreign Minister sat back down. Now the Emperor had either to decide for himself or call upon the Council of Lords to vote and decide for him. This time he chose to decide.

"Gentlemen, excellent proposals by both of you. Very well thought out. However, I am not sure that these aliens can communicate with us. And I am not sure what rewards we would achieve by communication. It would look like defeat on our part, and I have no intentions to be defeated. Defense Minister, prepare the entire army. We are going to send these aliens a message, and a rather big one at that. Draw up plans to draw out this alien menace and destroy their military. After that, invade the system and destroy any military installations you find. We will not conquer them. We will defeat them. Dismissed."

With that, the entire Imperial army began to muster, at the Emperor's personal orders, and the greatest force the Star Empire had yet put forth was beginning to form. Hundreds of vessels set out from port, converging with their division or squadron or whatever, and then converging on a point on the edge of Imperial space. There the new army--the Defense Minister had adopted the name First Imperial Army--would merge into one cohesive unit and ready to kick some alien ass. Some of the men had lost friends in that alien battle, and they wanted their comrades's death not to be in vain.

Bump

The First Imperial Army, at the command of Defense Minister Jack Stewart, set forth for the strange and alien lands from which the alien fleet had emerged. At the head of the army was the Vandal, a super-carrier that could have eaten the Visigoth and Ostrogoth alive. Ringing this massive ship were many ranks of heavy cruisers and frigates, the staple ships in the Imperial Army. There were also two battleships, Hun and Frank, flanking the carrier. All in all, it was an impressive display of firepower.

As the ships entered what had to be Thailosian space, the ships employed their radars and other sensing devices at full power, creating an electronic bubble inside of which it was almost impossible to avoid detection. The electronic noise, however, could be heard outside of this bubble of protection. To counter this, several forward recon fighter craft were deployed to listen for any possible enemy contact and report it immediatly. This would allow the army to take action against enemies lurking beyond the defensive bubble.

Even before the ships themselves had been detected, the Thailos felt the presence of thousands upon thousands of minds as the Imperial fleet appeared in realspace. It was, for the isolated and xenophobic Thailos, a stunning show of force; a display feared but expected.

Despite being limited by strict religious creed to a mere half dozen planets, the Thailos nevertheless lived in a society built around defending that which they had been entrusted with. The entire system was, in essence, a weapon, defending its heart from invasion, built up through thousands of years of strict adherence to a religion built on the principles of paranoia, fear and distrust of the Outside.

Thailos waited, an empty tomb.

And Thailos's wait was ended. The Imperial First Army proceeded deeper and deeper into the system, launching probes in random directions an scanning all it saw. Paranoia was not inbred into the soul of the Fluffywuff citizen; most citizens were care-free and quite open. However, the military was an institution of paranoia, and Imperial soldiers had in the past shot old ladies out of fear they were terrorists.

And so anything that passed withing a certain range--benign or not--was targetted and destroyed by a barrage of laser fire. One could never be too careful in times of war, especially in an alien system with a strange and hostile race somewhere inside of it. Some soldiers thought that it is possible that if the two races had met on neutral ground, pistols holstered, they would have been the greatest of friends. But a series of grave events and paranoia, complete with arrogance, had propelled two peoples against each other.

But those thought quickly passed from the soldiers, being soldiers, after all. One does not proffess himself to be a proffesional killer of living things to then suffer from a conscience attack. And so the fleet steamed ahead, oblivious to the unnerving quiet in the system.