NationStates Jolt Archive

ESUS Staging Grounds, Monoceros Cluster, Indra Prime Space


General Tirara Vinan, Senior Commander of the Indran Task Force and second in command to Facehuggerian Star-General Tanthius was finalizing preparations for the imminent departure of Strike Force Gamma. She looked up from the stack of data pads that had accumulated on her small table sitting beside her command chair to witness the hustle and bustle of her bridge crew going from station to station verifying last minute details before the transition into hyperspace. Everything had to go smoothly in this first operational move to ensure a rock hard foundation from which to operate this battle front.

She quickly signed the remainder of the data pads and gave them to an enlisted crewman who was standing by to deliver her orders to their respective departments. She stood up and moved closer to the holoscreen in an effort to get a better look even though moving any effort made to make the image any clearer would be futile. Over the last three hundred years, Indran holographic technology had improved leaps and bounds in areas many people thought had very little room for improvement. She watched as the vessels under her immediate command drew themselves into formations in preparation for their simultaneous jump into hyperspace.

Out of the twenty ships of the line she had brought with her from Haeridan Base, the Indran seat of power and Base of Operations, only fifteen others, not counting her flagship Phaeralon, would be joining her on this mission. The four vessels to be left in this secure region of what was once Indran Space and is now home to the ESUS Senate Chambers, were relatively new vessels of the Delphi Class. The technology housed within the hulls of the Delphi Class TR matrix projection ships had only been completed less than five years ago and was incredibly burdensome on resources to create. Since the inception of the Delphi Project, only eight ships of that class were constructed due to the enormous resources required to build this specific class. The primary purpose of the Delphi Class ships was to create a stable Temporal Rift between two points of space. The only drawback was that it required four vessels on each end to maintain the rift’s stability. Now, the entire fleet of Delphi Class ships had been deployed; four with the attack fleet, and four to the Monoceros Cluster.

In moments, she noticed the subtle changes of the fleet’s movements that indicated that the fleet was now in position. All Strike Force Gamma Vessels from every nation that was in this strike force were now in position and ready for her final order to jump to their target destination. She took one last look over the holodisplays around the bridge and from the status on each of the monitors; her ship was ready to go into battle and what a battle it was to be.

She halfway turned but still kept her eyes on the forward viewscreeen as she gave the final orders.

“Major Ryan. Give me shipwide and patch me through to the rest of the strike force.”

“Yessir. You’re good to go, sir.”

“Attention all hands. This is General Tirara Vinan on board the Phaeralon. The moment we have all waited and prepared for is upon us. Rely on your training, rely on each other and we will come through this on top. It is important for you all to remember, we are the point of the sword. There are three other strike forces that are relying on our ability to achieve our goals and defeat our enemies with minimal casualties. I expect and demand, from each and every one of you, your very best. Anything less, you should have joined the GFFA. Expect the enemy to throw everything they have at us. Prepare all stations for transition into hyperspace. All stations, BATTLE STATIONS!”

As soon as those final words were spoken, the ship readied itself for battle conditions. The white lighting was replaced was a deep blue light, every holodisplay seamlessly shifted from blue to red and the crewmembers who were not already armed, immediately retrieved their sidearms in the unlikely event boarding parties made it on board. Security teams that were patrolling the ship almost instantly doubled and critical areas like the bridge, the central AI core and the engine rooms were immediately placed under heavy guard. From the outside of the vessel, battleblades extended from the dorsal and ventral sides of the ship to provide additional armor for protection of the vital areas. Even the hull color morphed from the anthracite to a form of stellar camouflage allowing the vessel to not be easily dectected visually. Ship systems such as the ablative armor and Subspace Echo Field Generator began powering up and placed themselves in standby mode. Anyone who was watching the rapid transformation of the Indran vessels would see, they were all gearing up for war.

Majestically yet gracefully, the 12km Indran Flagship began moving out and began to pick up speed. Soon, the other vessels of the Indran task force along with the vessels of the Gamma Strike Force were cruising right behind the Phaeralon preparing themselves for the transition to FTL. As they reached a distance of 15 million km from the ESUS Senate Chambers, the Phaeralon seamlessly transitioned into hyperspace, and the other vessels followed suit. The ESUS Strike Force Gamma was on its way to war. Nothing would stop them now.


Libra System, Tigerlan Space


20 million km out from the Tigerlan planet of Libra, and coming in at an ingress angle of 35 degrees from the plane of the solar system, The Phaeralon and other ESUS Strike Force Gamma vessels dropped out of hyperspace and immediately fanned out to form a semi-defensive, semi-offensive formation as they approached the planetary system. Even though they knew they would not be challenged and they were expected, the commanders of the Strike Force assumed nothing and prepared for the possibility, remote as it was, that this was a double cross. Every vessel maintained their alert status, and while keeping their defenses at maximum, their offensive weapons were not aimed at anything specific. Within a minute, the ESUS strike force slowed to a halt about 2.5 million km from the planet surface and maintained their defensive posture as an encoded communiqué lanced from the Phaeralon to the Tigerlan forces that were protecting this planetary system.

“Attention Tigerlan forces. This is General Tirara Vinan, Commander of the ESUS Gamma Strike Force. We are here to assist you in the protection of your systems in return for your assistance in this war effort. As per our agreement, we have arrived to set up a mobile Forward Command and Control Facility and a staging area from which we can use as a launching pad for our attacks on the GFFA. Please acknowledge this hail and confirm offensive weapons are not targeting us. Know that any sign of aggression towards the ESUS Fleet currently in this system will immediately be considered an act of war and you will be treated as an enemy of the Alliance and fired upon. The forces currently in this system are more than enough to repel and defeat any enemy forces that may encroach on your planet. Once our rift has been established, ESUS reinforcements will be incoming to fortify and help defend this system for both our sake as well as yours. Please confirm receipt of transmission via secure data codes and acknowledge your status. Phaeralon standing by.”

Prologue

The day war was declared, Paula killed herself. She held a plasma rifle to her head, pulled the trigger, and left her half melted face for the coroners to identify. As her body lay in a puddle of boiling flesh, an inquisitive pigeon hopped close, head cocked to one side; it pecked at her bubbling eyes, then fluttered away in alarm as Paula stepped out from the cloning vat. She flexed her newly born muscles, ran her hands over her naked, perfect flesh and admired her six minute old body. A tinny voice spoke: “Cloning complete; memory transfer successful. You have one minute to evacuate this facility before cleansing procedure initiates. Thank you for using our service. May your implants serve you well for many years to come. Be well!”

Paula Myo had upgraded.

She hastily slipped on a pair of semi-organic jeans, which snugly wrapped themselves onto the contours of her skin, gently sucking to remove the layer of moisture deposited by the vat. Then, briskly walking towards the door of the tiny compartment, she clumsily mashed her still half numb feet into a pair of sturdy boots, covered herself in a thick overcoat, and pressed the brightly coloured 'exit' button next to the door.

“Thirty seconds.”

Paula's eyes widened. The metal door melted away, leaving only darkness in its wake. She remembered the stories her sister used to tell her, tales of things that lived in the dark and revealed themselves only to those who were about to die; and her rational mind battled with her irrational fears – the fear she had carried every day since Nurik had risen to power. Death. Absolution. Chaos. Realism won. She stepped over the threshold.

The facility imploded without fanfare, its existence forever erased from space time.

ESUS staging grounds, Monoceros Cluster, MSN Majestic

Admiral Anthan took nearly two hours to prepare the fleet for departure for the gamma squad staging post: it wasn't intentional on his part. He was, after all, in charge of almost three hundred and fifty ships, each with their own internalised command structure and captain, all answerable to him. Each order required his sanction of approval. This, coupled with his general captaining duties aboard the fleet flagship, the MSN Majestic, meant he had precious little time for recreational indulgences. Almost as soon as the gravitic shift drive was warmed up and running, and the ship was surfing smoothly away on a ripple of distorted space time, his virtual vision notified him of an incoming message:

ALL OFFICERS TO BRIEFING ROOM D IMMEDIATELY

“Shit and corruption,” he muttered. He announced to the bridge: “He wants to see me right now. Can you take care of our jump to Libra? Contact me once we're through.” He heated off without waiting for a response.

Mikhail Krupkin enjoyed his job, and didn't particularly expect or want any further promotions; he'd been in shipboard systems for the past fourteen years and expected to serve out his career in them before enjoying a long and happy retirement working for some commercial space line. However, messages like this one completely destroyed his peace of mind. It meant that the Prime was going to ask him questions about the availability of his systems, and with his reputation, any mistakes would result in instant death. All this and more was on his mind as he took the express elevator up to the conference suite in officer country. The door to Room D was open, waiting for him. Most of the other senior officers were already there. Illya Mordoc, the ship's commanding officer, sat next to Admiral Anthan, who in turn sat next to Vulpis from relativity and Lieutenant Helsing from fire control. All, in turn, sat directly opposite the Prime, who was resting his elbows upon the dark, teak desk, his eyes closed as if meditating. “Illya, what's going on?”

Illya glanced at him. “Take your seat, Officer Krupkin.”

Suddenly there was a change of atmosphere in the room. Everyone turned to face the Prime: conversations stopped, and officers came to attention. Admiral Anthan stood for a long moment, surveying his staff. Evidently what he saw gratified him; when he spoke, his first words were, “Gentlemen, please, be seated.”

Nurik had remained motionless throughout the entirety of this pompous military charade. But now, with everyone seated, his eyes flickered open, and he let his gaze wash over the room.

“It is now 1130. The door to this room is shut, and will remain shut, barring emergencies, until 1200.” He grinned, his perfectly white teeth shining in the harsh neon glare. “We are now under battle orders. Until this point, you have not been aware of our target. This is about to change. I have been informed by my staff that no resolution of the crisis short of war is possible – which is just as well, as I was rather bored. Accordingly, I am ordering us to proceed as part of Gamma Squad to the Tigerlanian world of Libra, where we will regroup with other Gamma Squad fleets. Once our forward base is established, we will then move forward to assault Xanthalian space. We will arrive with overwhelming firepower in all of their systems. We will leave no military asset intact. We do not want to leave our flank vulnerable to vigilante attack by rebellious captured forces.” Now he stood up, and begun walking around the table. “Are there any specific questions about the background before I go into our specific orders?” he asked.

Lieutenant Helsing raised a hand. “Your Excellency, do we know anything about the aggressor? It seems to me that the news agencies have been more than cautious about revealing too much detail.”

Nurik smiled. “A good question.” Anthan glanced at the young lieutenant; a young hotshot from tactical ops, who'd joined the ship less than a year ago. “A good question deserves a good answer. However, now is not the time to discuss this. The Galactic Federation of Free Alliances has much to answer for. So, Lieutenant. How do you think our forces stack up, in a worse case scenario situation?”

He gulped; he hadn't been expecting this. “Against whom, Sir? If it was just a matter of suppressing a singular foe, there wouldn't be any problem at all. We have a great deal of firepower at our disposal. Against an entire alliance, though? I'm not sure. It depends upon how trusting we are of our allies. I believe we have the combined firepower to reduce the GFFA to rubble. However, if this firepower is misplaced or misdirected, we may have trouble maintaining our own.”

Nurik patted Helsing on the shoulder, and smiled humorously. “An accurate summary. One that holds true whatever we face. Many of our enemies are unknown to The Mindset. We are relying on intelligence gleaned by forces that are not our own. We are operating on blind faith. I am not entirely comfortable with this. Regardless, we must persevere. In the interests of the Empire, of course.”

Admiral Anthan jumped slightly as a priority one alert filled his virtual vision. “Your Excellency,” he began, “I have just been informed that we have successfully transitioned from the Monoceros Cluster to the Gamma Squad staging post. The preliminary Indra Prime fleet is already in location around orbit of Libra. Should I open a channel to their flagship, the Phaeralon?”

“Indeed!” Nurik enthused.

“Channel open, Sir.”

“Why, hello there, my most timorous Indra Prime friends. I have arrived, at last. We should be in orbit of Libra within a few hours. Meanwhile, I'd like to extend an offer to your fleet commander. Tea and crumpets. My place?” He smiled. “Very good!”

Task Force Alpha, ESUS Staging Grounds

Ever since Northrop-Grumman’s entrance into the affairs of the intergalactic community, only one general had been able to lead an offensive front in a war and survive. Veterans of that rank were quite few as most had either passed on from this life because of old age or the devastating effects of the Civil War. Only two truly offensive wars had been fought in the past six decades as they were typically despised by the citizens who often chose to have nothing to do with it unless it had a direct effect on them. But this time, the fleets of the Corporation were cruising off to a war that many of the civilian population thought had nothing to do with them. Though, unlike previous times, few wanted to speak out against the leaders, particularly the Chairwoman who now was not afraid to smash all opposition to her. On the other hand, those that were apart of the vast military order fully supported their leaders and viewed this war as a way for the Corporation to rise up and speak out against the corruption that seemed to be rampant throughout the galaxy. One of such people would be leading Task Force Alpha, the Corporation’s wartime fleet, into this war.

General Amanda Harris, the newest and youngest Commander-in-Chief of the Northrop-Grumman Air Force Space Command at only thirty-three years of age, commanded the largest force ever assembled by the Corporation from her flagship, the John Knudsen Northrop. In her raised command chair, she eyed each of the stations that lined the outer wall of the bridge, waiting for any status changes. Never a patient person before a battle especially not one of this magnitude, she would often take to humming a few notes of a song or perhaps singing a little, but only with a slight movement of the mouth. Of course, no one could hear from her as special sound dampening fields were put in place long before she even took command. On this one occasion, she found herself singing a song from the late twentieth century.

“Right now, hey, it’s your tomorrow…Right now, c’mon, it’s everything…”

As she continued to wait, her eyes moved back towards the viewscreen directly in front of her. But her attention was quickly snatched by Captain Clayton, who manned the sensors station.

“General, the Indrans are preparing open the rift.”

She leaned over and gently pressed a button on her chair’s arm that turned off the sound dampeners. “Very well. Computer, focus viewscreen on the Indran vessels and magnify to two-hundred percent.”

Resonating throughout the bridge, a double-beep confirmed the order, and immediately the screen focused in on the four Delphi class vessels already assuming their positions in a rectangular fashion. No one in the Northrop-Grumman fleet knew exactly what was going to happen and kept their eyes focused upon windows, computer screens, and anything else that would provide an excellent view of what these Indran vessels would do.

A bright blinding light burst forth from each of the four vessels and streamed directly into the center of the rectangle. There, they struck one another with such magnitude that they created shockwaves of energy which radiated out and shook the closest Northrop-Grumman vessels. This was only the beginning as shortly thereafter ‘lightning bolts’ surged between the four Indran vessels, striking each one. The vessels soon began to brighten with a strange orange glow that almost seemed to form a sort of outer edge to the forming rift. Suddenly, the ‘bolts’ streamed back toward the center, greatly brightening it. Then, the star field that surrounded the vessels started to rip apart as if someone was just cutting a hole in space. A moment later, a bright blue rift emerged out of this.

Nearly all those aboard the Corporation’s vessels stared at this scene wide-eyed. None had ever seen such an impressive thing happen before their own eyes but luckily, most, if not all, the vessels were recording this event for many reasons. Some included record-keeping in the military archives. Others wanted something to impress loved ones back home with. General Harris though consistently kept her stern attitude and kept a close eye on her subordinates.

Breaking the awe of the rift, she spoke to the communications officer seated to her right. “Major Ichitan, any word from the Indrans?”

“One moment, sir. I am receiving a communiqué.” He pressed the earpiece closer to his head and listened in. “They are giving us and the rest of the reinforcements a go, General.”

“Excellent. Helm, take us in.”

Leading Task Force Alpha into the rift was the John Knudsen Northrop followed by the rest of the main battle fleet, but interestingly enough, another fleet of the Corporation’s was close behind. This consisted primarily of thirty Daedalus class battle cruisers from the spare fleet in the Criun System and ten Hailstorm-Class battle cruisers that were originally of Anagonian design but now were one of the newest classes being constructed in the fleetyards. It took only a minute before the last vessel had safely entered the rift.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Libra System, Tigerlan Space

The rather short trip though the rift was quite fascinating for the crews, especially the science officers, as the wide array of colors and lights were not typically seen in hyperspace, at least, not to this extent. But the other side quickly approached, and, for most, provided a sobering effect. They were now at war’s doorstep.

Upon reaching Tigerlan space, the two fleets remained a short distance away from the Indran vessels with their weapons powered and shields at maximum power. No one wanted to take any chances in this scenario. A saying often floated around amongst the crews, “Never assume anything. Always expect the unexpected.” Therefore, the battleships moved towards the front of the fleet and provided most of the cover, while the carriers and the General’s flagship made up the core. The other vessels for Task Force Alpha were dispersed all around the central core. Meanwhile, the secondary fleet kept pace with the Phaeralon and other Indran vessels. And once again, it was a time to wait but this time a more uncomfortable wait as the enemy waited just around the next corner.

Monoceros

"Captain? Are your men prepared for the trip to hyperspace? There are no qualms with the crew at this usage of Indran technology?" Jutan often found that a tour of the deployment decks yielded more truthful news of the ships feelings than his daily status reports and morale updates, and kept him best able to understand the solders under his command. That was all popular theory, of course, but most commanders found it far easier to neglect it. Jutan also had an uncanny ability to track down Captain Kun-no, who at that time, was lain underneath a large flatbed truck, examining it alongside an engineer. Sliding out from underneath, face grubby with engine grease, he stood up to face Jutan directly.

"My Lord?" He began to speak louder to raise above the din of the deployment decks, and wincing at the flash of welders being used nearby. "Indran technology for the most part is not a concern of the crew, compared to the impending assault. A slight few of the squads under my command have raised questions, but these are minor worries. None are requesting to be removed from the fleet." He gave a slight smile, his teeth in stark contrast to his blackened face.

"Excellent. The journey should be short, anyway. There are no other concerns?" He enquired, lightly.

"None that have been brought to me, again, aside from nerves about deployment in an assault.Spirits are generally high. I anticipate that will change soon, but not at the moment."

Nodding, Jutan strolled off, almost immediately consumed by the chaos of the deck as Kun-no slid back underneath the truck.

As he was passing troops of men in tight formation in a metallic drill square in the centre of the deck, he was contacted by ISIS on his priority channel, and accepted the communication, with

Sorry to intrude, Lord, but we're entering hyperspace shortly. It would be advisable for you to return to the bridge before we depart to supervise the fleet.

"Thank you. I shall return momentarily." He grimaced with disappointment at the prospect, and the sharp pulse of tension at the beginning of the invasion ran up and down his spine. A siren sounded out across the ship, alerting the rest of the crew to the jump.

As Jutan reached the bridge, sitting in the thick, encasing webbed seat, the fleet slipped into hyperspace behind the Indran and Mindsetti fleets.

Libra

As the Jordaxian fleet plunged back into realspace, blossoming apart from its previously condensed state, the saucer shaped vessels darting between its larger allies, scanning intently for any signs of hostility. Aboard the thousands of trailing supply ships, military vehicles and transports lined up on bustling flight decks, waiting for the command from Jutan to begin the occupation of the Tigerlanian world, should it come.

Jutan, however, was receiving the communique from the Mindsetti prime, a mysterious figure whom Jutan knew literally nothing about.

I think you can afford a small meeting with our erstwhile ally. I can keep things tiding over here quite nicely, and it's not as if you'll be out of communication.

"True.", he thought back towards the battlenet. "Very well! Send a return message to our host. Inform him that my shuttle will depart shortly, and I will be with him momentarily." Sending out mental orders through his neurites, the g-seat releasing its grip on his body. Further orders went out to his shuttle, alerting its onboard computer to prepare for immediate departure, its perfectly spherical shape suddenly coming to life in its personal hanger, isolated from the rest of the ship in relative tranquility. Minutes later, the shape of Jutan appeared from a bright-lit doorway, and in response, a curved stairway slid out from the shuttlecraft, dim red lighting showing the large steps as Jutan climbed. Sitting in the only seat available in the craft, he flicked buttons, sealing the bay doors, and draining the atmosphere from the miniature hanger. Once it was completed, a blue-tinged circle appeared in front of the craft, expanding to slightly larger than the shuttles own diameter, and revealing the black spacescape, with the glimmer of the sun reflected from the large fleets assorted hulls. The craft, lifting up, accelerated through the wormhole, and, opening a channel, requested docking permission with the MSN Majestic.

“Wonderful!”

The conversation had lasted barely thirty seconds, the data stream whizzing though a billion micro-wormholes within the Majestic’s computer core before being blasted in the direction of the nearest Jordaxian vessel at several million times lightspeed, but oozed with enthusiasm.

Nurik was pleased. He’d rather given up hope that his fanciful suggestion of tea and crumpets would be accepted. Indeed, the Indra Prime response had been quite rude. The very idea that the Indran admiral was too busy to see him had very nearly caused a fit of rage; it’d taken him several hours to regain his composure. He was thankful that the Jordaxian captain had chosen to accept. This way, he’d avoid having to kill more of his crew.

He’d seen to it that his spacious quarters had been lavishly decorated, with a twelve-meter table running along the centre, two seats perched at either end, waiting for their owners. The room was quite personalised – almost to the point of absurdity. Indeed, Nurik had even taken to painting canvas masterpieces, some of which hung around the room, delicately lighted with a soft, pink glow.

Just then, a low, metallic tone filled the air, and a disembodied voice spoke: “Sir, the Jordaxian shuttle has just docked in bay G67. In addition to this, I’ve just received word that the Indran commander is preparing to make an announcement via the battlenet comms. I believe it’d be best if both you and the Jordaxian guest were on the bridge to hear it. I’ve already seen to it that your guest be routed here. If you’d be so kind?”

* * *

Admiral Anthan sat upon his levitating command chair, his wrists gently touching its delicate iSpots, allowing a direct, high-bandwidth connection between his implants and the ship computer systems. In his mind’s eye, he could clearly see the little blue blobs that represented the combined gamma squad fleet hovering in 3D space around him. By barely thinking, he could call up tactical data on each blob, which the ship AI fed directly into his neural DataStream, preventing any lag required for actually reading. Indeed, his tactical virtual vision system allowed for practically instantaneous reaction time. The near-infinite computational power of the ship AI, combined with the high-speed artificial nervous system he possessed, granted him the exceptional ability to command his ship with thought alone. Now that the Mindsetti fleet had begun final preparations for the attack, his conscious mind had practically been taken over by tactical reasoning software. Regardless, he still found time to project his voice through the ship comms system to imform the Prime, and his guest, of the impending Indran announcement. Since his body had practically been shut down, the ship had had to replicate his voice digitally.

To anyone not accustomed to Mindsetti bridge protocol, walking in in the middle of a tactical alert would be a strange experience. All bridge crew were directly linked into the ship AI and its military-spec network, meaning the bridge was completely silent, all crew members laying with their eyes shut, not moving. Despite its calm outer appearance, within the network, their amplified brain functions allowed them to shout and obey a thousand orders per second. Indeed, had the network been linked to the comms system, a visiting guest would be unable to hear anything but white noise.

Nurik entered, nonplussed by the rude interruption of his tea party as Anthan’s consciousness swelled to fill the bridge comms system, whereupon it bellowed: “incoming transmission.”

Nurik took a seat next to the admiral, laid his wrist on an iSpot, and waited patiently for the Indran message to fill his mind.


“Prime Dancos! It is an honour to see you once again. Thank you very much for the generous invitation to join you on your flagship for tea and crumpets, but unfortunately I must decline. Less than an hour ago, my vessel received intelligence reports on several military outposts in the Xanthallian territories. Right now, they are lightly guarded, relatively speaking, and I believe that with our combined might and our vastly superior firepower, we will be able to overwhelm the enemy forces and take those planets with minimal casualties to our own forces. If we achieve surprise, we will devastate the enemy military forces and leave them with no viable means of defence against our onslaught.

For sake of time and lessening the chance that we may lose the element of surprise, my command crew and I have developed a strategy that will work to our advantage, but we must move quickly. We have identified four distinct planetary systems that the bulk of the Xanthallian civilization resides. The intel we have gleaned indicates that in the Mirfak system, there are three military defence stations orbiting the third and fourth planets, two orbiting the third, one the fourth. The Than system has two orbital defence stations which are currently orbiting the fourth and sixth planets. In the Trasnia system, there are two stations orbiting the sixth planet, and in the Kanell system, there are two stations as well and these are orbiting the first and second planets.

Note that the Mirfak and Than systems are known to be flooded with a form of FTLi that inhibits any FTL technology that makes use of “hyperspace” or “subspace.” I have been led to believe that any technology that uses wormholes (or a similar analogue) will work.

If you intend to make any fleet divisions into the individual squads, please do so as soon as possible and forward the plan to them so they are up to speed on the attack strategy…

Nurik’s mentality automatically cut off the transmission as the channel filled with a hiss of static. Anthan’s personally once again expanded into the bridge systems, his artificially generated voice twanging in the recycled air. He began, “your Excellency, our sensors detect that the Indran vessels have just dropped out of the battlenet. We are no longer receiving command verification data, nor are they responding to hails. At this moment, I believe they have experienced a catastrophic communication system failure. Your Excellency, I do not believe it would be wise to delay this attack any further. We must act quickly, in the interests of maintaining the element of surprise. I therefore seek your approval in my decision to assume command of the gamma squad strike fleet.”

Nurik rose from his chair, and began a slow walk towards the front of the bridge. Anthan’s limp body remained in his command chair, totally oblivious to the physical universe surrounding it. Despite this, his silence hung in the air, as he waited patiently for the Prime’s answer.

“Do it.”

Anthan expanded his personality once more, but this time he felt his mentality surge through a data burst aimed at the flagships of the assembled ESUS forces. His artificial neurons exploded with activity, as mammoth levels of power accelerated his voice to beyond lightspeed. He simultaneously felt his mental projection assemble in the diverse computer systems of his comrades; satisfied, he begun his announcement.

“With the respect of myself and the Mindsetti Prime, I formally announce that as of this moment, I have assumed the position of squad leader for the gamma squad strike force. Circumstances unknown have rendered the Indran vessels unable to connect to the battlenet or issue commands. Naturally, this effectively cripples their ability to wage a cohesive war. I have considered the proposed Indran plan, and therefore believe that the following strategy should be used:

The ESUS is a democratic institution based upon the concept of self-governance and loyalty only to the articles set out in the constitution. The constitution does not cover the idea of a foreign commander being given authority over other members and as such, this is only an advisement. I propose that we each chose a target, and assault it as we see fit. Battlefield tactics will work better than pre-planned tactics. At this stage, we have a reasonable idea of how the enemy will respond, but I truly believe that a rigid strategy will only result in us being inflexible should the enemy conduct a more creative defence than we anticipate. As such, I propose that I split the Mindsetti fleet into three sub-fleets, each comprising of approximately one hundred and thirty ships of various classes, and assault (simultaneously) the following Xanthallian assets: the military stations in orbit of the fourth planet of the Mirfak system, the orbital defence platform orbiting the sixth planet of the Than system and the stations orbiting the sixth planet of the Trasnia system. This leaves Kanell with no Mindsetti forces, but I have no desire to overstretch myself. I believe this approach will give us each the flexibility to use our own tactical advantages and strategic skills in a manner that suits us best, as well as upholding the non-interference with national sovereignty that the ESUS holds so dear. I therefore recommend, but do not order, that you each split your fleet, and aid in the assault of the various stations the Indran commander mentioned.

To reiterate: conduct the attack however you see fit.

Anthan out.”

Anthan’s expanded mentality then split the Mindsetti fleet into three, A, B and C, broken down as follows:

Fleet A:
1 Battleforge Mk II class flagship (http://wiki.esusalliance.co.uk/?title=Battleforge_MkII_class)
16 Sonne class battleships (http://wiki.esusalliance.co.uk/?title=Sonne_class)
23 Sonne Mk II class heavy battleships (http://wiki.esusalliance.co.uk/?title=Sonne_MkII_class)
33 McCoy class cruisers (http://wiki.esusalliance.co.uk/?title=McCoy_class)
33 Heavy carrier class
Ground forces:
66,666 Annihilation class infantry droids (http://wiki.esusalliance.co.uk/?title=Annihilation_class).


Fleet B:
16 Sonne class battleships
23 Sonne MkII class heavy battleships
33 McCoy class cruisers
33 Heavy carriers
66,666 Annihilation class infantry droids.

Fleet C:
16 Sonne class battleships
23 Sonne MkII class heavy battleships
33 McCoy class cruisers
33 Heavy carriers
66,666 Annihilation class infantry droids.

Totals:
1 Battleforge Mk II class flagship
48 Sonne class battleships
69 Sonne MkII class heavy battleships
99 McCoy class cruisers
99 Heavy carriers
199,998 Annihilation class infantry droids.

The Mindsetti combined fleet began a slow-motion ballet dance, as they jostled against one another in their attempts to get into position. At the climax, as the audience rose in a standing ovation, Tchaikovsky’s “Sleeping Beauty” echoing in their ears, the ships simultaneously opened over three-hundred voidholes – blackening the blackness of space as they sucked light from all directions – and disappeared into the void.

The attack had begun.

* * *

Edge of the Mirfak system, Xanthallian space, Mindsetti Fleet A

The Xanthallian sun hung in the darkness, barely brighter than its far more distant cousins. The Mindsetti fleet had dropped to stealth mode, masking as much of their emissions as possible, and subtly manipulating the gravity field around each vessel so they were indistinguishable from moderately sized asteroids to all but the most advanced mass detectors. They cruised on a wave of warped space-time, casually accelerating sunward at ten thousand gees.

Anthan’s teeth were on edge. If their presence was detected now, before they had had a chance to fire a single shot, the Xanthallian fleets would have a chance to arrange a significant defence force sunward before his fleet got close to their targets. Time would tell if their efforts to remain quiet were undetected; the Mindsetti archives were sketchy at best on the nature of Xanthallian sensor technology. His virtual vision had established a countdown timer that ticked away the time until the Mindsetti fleet was in position to launch a surprise attack against the stations in orbit and around the world of Mirfak IV. Should the first attack go well, he hoped to move onto the other military stations in-system. He knew that alone, the Xanthallian space forces gravely outnumbered him. This, combined with the fact that the Xanthallian fleet had a defender’s motivation, had worried him. The Mindsetti fleet was small – very small – in comparison. He could only hope that his ESUS allies would pull through.

The timer registered another minute slipping away. T-minus: eight hours. Not long now.

Throughout the lengthy landing bays, orange motorized carts scurried across the metal deck, carrying maintenance crews and the heavy munitions to the fighters and bombers that were gradually being lined up. There the weapons were mounted onto the appropriate vessel and inspected, and the crews were performing the final system checks for flight. While this was occurring, in the adjacent briefing rooms, hundreds of pilots were going over the tactical information and other necessities for their objective. It was a tense time for those who were busily working, but nevertheless, they were performing their duties like a well-oiled machine.

Gazing out over this scene from the observation room, Chairwoman O’Neill grinned slightly at what she saw and quickly jotted down information into her datapad for later, when she could quietly review it. The officers around her wondered what she could possibly be doing and often glanced over at her datapad but were unable to decipher the arcane language in which it was written. She had her own reasons for being here, but of course, she would not allow anyone to know what it was until the appropriate time.

Behind her, a lieutenant in his green jumpsuit approached her and saluted. “Madam Chairwoman, you had asked me to provide you with any information that had come across concerning the war.”

She turned off the datapad and quickly shoved it into the pocket on the inside of her coat. “Correct. What do you have for me?”

“The Indran fleet is currently unable to issue commands or even reply to any hails. As for why, we simply do not know at this time, ma’am. In the meantime, the commander of the Mindsetti forces is taking command of the Gamma strike force and has issued this statement.” He pulled a white slip of paper out of his jumpsuit and handed over to the Chairwoman. “Currently, General Harris is deciding on a battle plan for our forces. That is all for now.”

“I see.” The Chairwoman rubbed her chin as she carefully read over the announcement studying every word and line to make sure that she did not miss anything. After a moment, she folded the paper and glanced up to the lieutenant. “Good work. Keep me apprised of anything else that you come across. Dismissed.”

He saluted and quickly walked out of the observation room to resume his duties as had been ordered. Watching him leave, the Chairwoman once again took out her datapad, scrawled something onto it, and shoved it back into her pocket along with the slip of paper.

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Tap…Tap…Tap. The sound of the stylus striking against the metal armrests of General Harris’ command chair seemed to echo throughout the bridge. She was deep in thought, pondering about how to split the two fleets up and where exactly to send them. On one side of the computer screen she scanned through the information received from the Indran and Mindsetti commanders about the Xanthalians and on the other, she flipped through the Corporation’s database. Noting what she saw, she pressed the stylus upon another screen and slid the various ships under her command into two categories…

First Strike Force
2 x Zereul Class Battlecarriers (NGSS John Knudsen Northrop, NGSS Thomas Jones)
8 x Yorktown Class Carriers
17 x Kingmaker Class Battleships
40 x Ancient Class Battle Cruisers
15 x Daedalus Class Battle Cruisers
5 x Hailstorm Class Battle Cruisers
250 x Wilmington Class Corvettes

Second Strike Force
2 x Zereul Class Battlecarriers (NGSS Kent Kresa, NGSS Shiran Naelthasser)
7 x Yorktown Class Carriers
18 x Kingmaker Class Battleships
40 x Ancient Class Battle Cruisers
15 x Daedalus Class Battle Cruisers
5 x Hailstorm Class Battle Cruisers
250 x Wilmington Class Corvettes

…gazing down upon what she had sorted, she felt satisfied with the list and now sought to relay the order to the designated people.

“Major Ichitan.” Harris pivoted her command chair towards the comm. officer and pressed a button on her armrest to send the list to his console. “Send this out to General Soderman of the Kent Kresa and inform him that he is ordered to take this task force to the fourth planet of the Than System and assault the station in orbit…and one last thing, remind him of the FTLi.”

Ichitan nodded his head and set to work on his computer console, quickly tapping the keys of his keyboard in an almost mechanical fashion. “Very well, General.”

Pivoting the chair back around towards the viewscreen, Harris gave out another order, “Helm, set course for the edge of the Mirfak System.”

“Course set.”

“Engage hyperdrives.”

Almost instantaneously on Harris’ command, the John Knudsen Northrop and the rest of the over three-hundred vessel strike force bolted forward into the bright blue and violet glow of the newly created hyperspace window.

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With only a slight shudder through the vessels’ rigid frames, the Corporation’s strike force slipped out of hyperspace on the farthest edge of the Mirfak System. As was expected by the crews, the vessels began to shimmer and fade as the cloaking devices powered up. And only a second later, the force disappeared completely.

“Helm, set course for the third planet in the system. Let’s provide cover for the Mindsetti.”

The fleet turned slightly and powered up the ion drives. Gradually, the vessels began to pick up speed as they cruised towards their intended target and the first battle of the war.

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OOC: Ship stats are here:
1) http://z7.invisionfree.com/Northrop_Grumman/index.php?showtopic=6&st=0&#last
2) http://hawk.proboards1.com/index.cgi?board=Military&action=display&thread=1103679193

Being a frode is, mercifully, a temporary assignment; but after weeks of holding its position while the fleet is on alert following the Extra-Solar Union of Systems' declaration of war on the Federation, the temporary assignment is beginning to feel like a life sentence. For many, including Intersection of Loss, the war itself is a mystery. Surely the GFFA had done nothing to warrant such action, and the Republic could hardly be at risk, could it? Even a simple foot soldier knows that, in war, one must eliminate the greatest threats first. Xanthal, though it arguably has the capability, is in no position to attack anyone with politicians and bureaucrats at the helm. In its days as a mahtsoot Loss had served aboard a fleet that observed a critical battle of the ESUS Civil War. Back then, the Union seemed more prepared to tear itself apart than go to war with anyone else. Times, it seems, have changed. Still, the than takes a certain measure of satisfaction in its assignment, though it would never admit as much. This is what green-shells are bred for, and they get very little of it in service of the Republic.

While there seems to be little chance from the Xanthalian perspective that it could come under attack, the Triumvirate has nevertheless had the Labule reserves activated, ordered all fleets placed on general alert, and appointed a supreme commander under themselves in each of the Republic's four key star systems; in Mirfak's case, Intersection of Loss. The bomowas of YLZ-22 now controls the entirety of the military's forces in Mirfak from the relative comfort of its station's operations deck. It is a task that was exciting at first: selecting tactical strategies and contingency plans, positioning fleets and issuing standing orders; but after the first week the game became one of waiting, an intense, ready wait that left no room for relaxation beyond Loss' few hours of troubled sleep. Even meals were eaten from its seat on the spacious and sterile bridge. This, however, does not bother the emerald-colored than. Rather, it is the feeling held by almost everyone that they are preparing for an attack that will never happen. It is a justifiable feeling; Xanthal and its allies have faced several aggressors in the country's modern history, and always their leaders have sidestepped the onslaught, negotiated a solution, or simply declined to be involved in what they felt was somebody else's problem.

Training and discipline are second nature to officers of the Xanthalian military. They have been drilled for every situation, taught every tactic, and prepared for every contingency; but fewer and fewer veterans of the Mirfakan and Thanic occupations grace the Labule and its planetary counterpart, the Nahbule, as time passes. With that passing the military loses nearly the only people it has with the most important thing of all: first-hand experience with the tough choices and wide-scale death of war. As a citizen, Loss wishes it weren’t necessary for anyone to have that experience. As a born warrior the insectoid realizes that it is a deficit that no training or simulation can compensate for. It knows that the impulses it has repressed ever since its unit was the last to leave Wakimaishu over sixty years ago, Sixty years.... I will die soon, too, can save the Republic when war strikes. Its instinct for destruction, its brutal efficiency are terrible things, and they could mean the difference in holding the line against forces that care nothing for the society it is protecting. Loss is what some would call a deathseeker, but then, so are all of its kind: since the ancient days when they would tear apart the segmented bodies of rival colonies in defense of their queen they have embraced death at the hands of their enemies; and that so many of them die peacefully in the modern age is, in a twisted way, regrettable.

The station’s command center buzzes with activity, a drone that has been continuous for so long that nobody takes note of the constant movement, entrances and exits, clicks and beeps, and snappy chatter of conversation, reports, and orders. The deck, done in shades of beige and gray-blue, is anything but a fashion statement. The ambient lighting that rings the ceiling glows an insistent shade of yellow against the pale white of the central illumination, an indication of the fleet’s heightened alert. From his raised platform at the rear of the bridge he can oversee the rest of the command crew; some good soldiers that he has served with for years, others new, young junior officers working their way up with dedication and performance. There are many more than usual these days, sometimes dozens at a time, all doing different tasks but united in a vigilance that has become as mundane as the activity that surrounds them. The large tactical display projected onto the main screen at the front of the scene reduces the ships of the Labule and the tens of thousands of living, breathing people aboard them into simple numbered dots overlaid on a two-dimensional map of the solar system, in turn overlaid on a grid. It is symbolic of machines built to fight and be destroyed, souls entrusting themselves to a primitive meshing of panels and circuitry and sworn to cast aside life at a word from their commanders. Then, there is something else.

Three hundred and thirty-seven unmarked blips on the screen, concentrated on the outer edge, appear for an instant no longer than two seconds, then abruptly blink out. Intersection of Loss barely has time to focus its eyes on them before they disappear. He calls out something lost in the deafening silence that follows. Even those who weren’t looking seem to sense the gravity that engulfs the room and stop their activity for a moment that draws on into eternity.





“Sĕnmon Nädälä!” the Frode repeats.

“Frod?” the young woman replies from halfway across the bridge.

“Tĭl älärĭk?” Nobody even breathes, their fate riding on the answer.

“Eä.” With one word, the world ends.

All crew stand by for immediate jump to hyperdrive for three month duration. All crew, stand by for immediate jump to hyperdrive for three month duration.

The voice of ISIS boomed out across the decks of the carrier, as the crew continued on, ignoring it. Transition to hyperdrive was an uneventful thing, entirely similar to doing nothing at all. The only differences came later. Fatigue was impossible, and sleep had to be induced. Hunger never came, or never went, more frustratingly, and neither did any wasting from not eating. Even on the longest jump, lasting years, nothing changed. Age had no effect on any of the crew in the strange realm. At the same time, the long passage of time did not occur to anyone outside of hyperdrive. As far as they were concerned, any ships in question had been gone for a fraction of the time. Hours, minutes, even seconds. This is how it would be for Jutan, travelling along with the Mindsetti fleet until rendezvous at Mirfak. The extra time did have certain advantages, however, notably in allowing much longer to ensure that plans were adequate, that machine maintainance was up to date, and that the soldiers were drilled well.

ISIS drifted through her isolated nodes in hyperdrive, examining the status of all the ships under her command. It was a large fleet, for the Jordaxians, and under the right management, was capable of much. But, being so numerous, and individually vulnerable, it was always a tactical nightmare to command in unknown circumstances, much like Mirfak would be. Of course, this was the reason she had been created. To create and distribute solutions far quicker than a human could, leaving the commander to decide how best the strategies she assisted in creating should be implemented. Ordinarily in his absence, a second in command would have taken his role, and indeed this was the case. Since the induction of ISIS, she became the second in command for every ship in the fleet. Far more than a rudimentary intelligence, though, the weight of this duty, to lead the fleet to Mirfak, and perhaps more depending, was not lost on her. Their safety, also, now depended on her. It was at once exhilirating and un-nerving. But she had spent valuable miliseconds dawdling on her personal opinions. She had a mere three months to compile every available piece of data, and construct several plans and contingencies. Though she could likely come up with such plans in moments, she considered, she did like to have some time to mull over the details. She needed something to occupy her on the journey.

Mirfak

The fleet collectively re-appeared in its own uneventful way, keeping its sensors quiet despite the natural curiosity to see what was out there, knowing that it was very likely that at such a distance away, the Xanthallian enemy would not detect their presence, giving them the element of surprise. Across the ESUS-battlenet, Mindsetti ships registered a short distance away. It was too soon to break silence, however. Matching speed with the warships, the Jordaxian warfleet began to accelerate towards the Xanthallian defenses, and whatever surprises they contained. inside the computers of the fleet, ISIS once more ran through the plan to herself. Without knowing the depth of the defenses, it was naturally sparse of detail. The level of un-certainty worried her significantly, so she had allowed for multiple contingencies. Even so, the temptation to simply peek around the system would not depart. what if they were heading into an ambush? In the end, after many seconds deliberation, she decided to compromise with herself. At the fleets rearguard, a single missile tube on the side of a saucerlike Nonsequitor slid open silently, as a single hummingbird, filled with sensors equipment, slowly pushed itself out. It drifted for a few moments as the Nonsequitor accelerated away in the darkness, and, judging itself to be sufficiently isolated, began a swift burn to push it even further away, but in the general direction of the star. As the minutes passed, more and more of these solitary missiles moved in a similar way, in wildly different directions, little more than a tiny burst of heat to show they ever existed. The entire display took close to fifteen minutes to complete, and once ISIS judged preparations to be complete, she sent a tiny order out to the closest one. In turn, it bounced it, slightly amplified, to the next closest, repeating the process. Whilst it still remained very unlikely at this juncture, to any Xanthallian sensor operator seeing these transmissions, it would almost certainly seem to indicate that there were transmissions coming several thousand kilometres away from the true location of the Jordaxian fleet. Once the transmission had finished bouncing around the missile chain, it was finally rebounded to the first. The order, simply to activate all of its scanning equipment and beam the results back along the chain, where it would eventually be intercepted by the Carrier, and ISIS. As it blared out invisible light beams, took radiation readings, even analysing all local gravity fields, it transmitted back to the Hagar. it was near impossible the probe would not be seen, but that was not its intent. If ISIS had planned it all correctly, it might even encourage Xanthallian defenses to converge upon such a point, though she dismissed it as unlikely. But it was not out of the question that she might yet get the first drop on the defenders. She let it cycle at the back of her mind as she built a picture of whatever she could see out there.

Information pooled in the back of Anthan’s mind; ship statistics, engine, weapon and shield performance readouts, life support status and more. His implants collated, sorted, and priority flagged data that the ship AI indicated was relevant to that particular computational cycle. In doing so, it notified him on a semi-subconscious level that the Northrop-Grumman and Jordaxian fleets had arrivedin force. The ESUS battlenet apprised him of the location of the Jordaxian flagship, and with a few complex commands, he instructed the ship AI to transport their guest directly to their bridge. There was a slight pop as pressure equalised between the terminal points of the voidhole, which was now hovering above the extraordinarily tall Jordaxian guest. It moved down in one swift motion, shunting his molecules through a rip in spacetime.

Nurik looked unhappy at the prospect of missing tea, as he sarcastically remarked, “Well, that was a short visit. Never writes, either.” He looked at the limp body of Anthan, resting in his command chair, and fought the urge to flap his limbs around wildly.

Anthan’s disembodied voice once again filled the bridge: “Your Excellency, we are about to begin our assault.”

As he spoke, Nurik’s mind filled with the forward optical sensor feed. A large, alien station dominated the view. It stood in sharp contrast to the planet it orbited.

“This is our first target?” Nurik asked.

“Yes, sir. We will be within range in approximately thirty seconds.”

Anthan manipulated a few icons with his virtual hand, and the lights inside the bridge dimmed to a throbbing blue.

“Stealth mode disabled. Powering weapons.”

Along the entire thirteen kilometre length of the Mindsetti flagship, weapons rippled outwards as energy coursed through thick, superconducting cables that acted as the nervous system of the ship. Each bay performed a warm up routine, spinning lazily in their anti-friction sockets. Billions of watts of energy surged into their capacitors, in readiness for the deadly focused discharge that would inevitably come soon.

And soon it came.

The AI’s voice resonated within Nurik’s head: “discharging.”

Simultaneously, one hundred and thirty six ships opened fire with their plasma cannons, pushing coherent, billion-kelvin clouds of superheated hydrogen towards the alien construct. As soon as the plasma cannon capacitors were depleted, the Sonnes began a barrage of intense maser fire, using the battlenet to concentrate their fire on discrete locations in an attempt to punch through any perceived shielding.

Meanwhile, Nurik instructed the Battleforge to flood the area with a single broadcast, on infinite repeat:

"Pär, Zăntälän ălfäe. Zĕke sami ESUS. Sĭl ĕsti dolsäl. Bĭnĕk öt sĕki. Tĕkĕn mĭfsäl da!"

The Xanthalian emergency call from the Alphashra (OOC: agreed oocly with Xanthal) reached the Joint Revolutionary Command and Control Center in San Diego, California. With war in Azaha and troops called up to fight in Kendari, the fact that this was a very serious conflict sank in. The fact that a fellow Socialist power was being attacked en masse was a bad thing, if Xanthal fell, it would be a blow to Premier MacIntyre's program--after all, they couldn't let a socialist regime fall.

Thus, plans were made for Operation Eminence Front. Eminence Front was the plan to send a force of vessels to Mirfak, the main Xanthalian system, to aid in their defense. Mirfak was tricky, the area had intense gravitational distortions, something which would render Bosun Jumps into Mirfak directly impossible. But warping next to Mirfak and then moving in was not. So that would be the plan.

Now what vessels to send? JRCCC debated the issue. Heavy ships would play the biggest role. Two Drama Casserole Class vessels were chosen, their formidable fighter capacity and capabiity for death dealing a plus. These would be the Oliver Law and the Battlestar Potemkin. Then, 300 more vessels, half Mao Zedong IIIs and half Lin Biao II Heavy Cruisers were added; these were heavy hitters that would add needed firepower to the ranks. Finally, 50 Deng Xiaoping Battlecruisers and 50 Zaitsev II ISDs were added for mobile firepower. This would be valuable for later assistance. It was all they could spare for now, as it was, calling up such a fleet would be tough to manage.

Commodore Nicolaos Agapios Kantazakis of the Law would be in command. Hopefully, this operation would pay off, all possible weapons available to the New Dornalians would come into play. For as they Bosun Jumped away from New Leningrad to near Mirfak, arranged themselves into the standard firing line and hailed the Xanthalians of their presence on secure channels before moving in, there was a sense that something was bad....

Imperial Admiral Gaf'ton was fresh from his meeting with the Federation as well as with many of the represented nations' commanders. It seemed that many were throwing their claims into this war though it would be seen who talked a good front and those that actually supported the alliance. Perhaps the Abh had a more personal claim into this battle with their ally and close neighbor, Xanthal. Upholding their word to an ally and supporting them to a fault, the Abh prepared another military move that brought a smile to the older and more experienced Abh.

Gaf'ton deemed that the most expediant and securest way to Xanthal space would be via planespace. This would ensure that no emissions could be detected by any prying eyes and traveling through the Sords guaranteed a clear safe passage all the way to Xanthal. For this battle, all the classics had been brought back out for space time travel. Assorted attack vessels, guardships, patrolships, and the artillery ships were all being commissioned Some of the vessels had gone through alterations over time but they roughly remained the same being good solid ships.

Lights twinkled and darted as communication shuttles ran from vessel to vessel relaying orders and assigning positions. The Abh First fleet formed up and approached the Sqarresh Gate. It was ironic that this gate was the site of a deadlock battle centuries ago, now it would likely lead them to just as bloody a conflict. En masse they approached the gate activating their space time bubble generators. It was a shift back to the glorious past for a brief moment that brought back memories for many. Imperial Admiral Gaf'ton eased back into the chair of the Sumabilge and drumming his fingers along the arm rest. "Show me our charts."

The tactical display on the floor shifted from a view to the fleet around it to the navigation systems through planespace. A Sord located relatively close to the Mirfak sun. It would take a bit of time to close the distance but would be well worth it. Supply ships entow, they moved through the swirling blue aura that was planespace. He tilted his head back onto the cushion and smiled. "Finally an Abh battle."

The Xanthalian forces at Danika are ready when the Mindsetti fleet comes in. The arrival of the Jordaxian fleet gives significantly less warning, but nonetheless when the fleets reach Danika, 100 Hokäl, 250 Jĕl, and 50 Lĕsö await them. Rather than standing in the way of the assault, they have been positioned to approach and fire from behind the aggressors, where there will be less fire concentrated upon them. Thanks to the time the Xanthalians had to prepare, the military operations facility in orbit of Danika has been largely evacuated, leaving only a skeleton crew and a few others who weren't able to leave in time. Just as the Xanthalian forces gathered around the outer planet are preparing to make a final attempt at negotiation for a cease-fire, matters become more complicated when the New Dornalian fleet registers on the outer perimeter of the system.

Several Xanthalian ships come about to face the new "threat" before the targets are confirmed as allies. In the meantime, station YLZ-15's shields are overcome by the overwhelming firepower directed at them, and the station's hull disintegrates under the sustained barrage, then explodes in a fireball quickly consumed by the void when one of its antisubstance containment tanks is pierced. In the absence of orders from their commander, which will be long in coming due to the distance between Renku and the system's perimeter, the commanders make a critical decision to challenge these ruthless adversaries, destroy them, delay them in their march against Xanthal. The Xanthalian ships at Danika attack, and instruct the New Dornalians to do the same. The assault begins with a barrage of thousands of the powerful antimatter explosives Xanthal calls hoksai, which race across the thousands of kilometers between attackers and defenders at high sublight speed, twisting and turning, zigging and zagging their way to their targets: focused on the most threatening, best-shielded vessels, which their power can destroy with an efficiency impossible for Xanthal's shorter-range and less-destructive energy weapons. The hoksai are followed closely by a charge of gel, Xanthalian assault ships built for melee combat. Behind these, limited by their size and slower acceleration, the lesu race towards engagement with the enemy as well.

Meanwhile, most of the remaining ships in the Xanthalian fleet at Mirfak are gathered around Renku, where forces from Northrop-Grumman are still cloaked, lying in wait for something. The Xanthalians keep tabs on the corporation's vessels with special detector stations and ships, but do not fire. While the ESUS may be at war with the Federation, the Republic has not returned the favor by declaring war on the ESUS. By law, unless the ships threaten Xanthalian citizens or property, the defenders cannot attack. Nevertheless, the area has been all but cleared of civilian craft, and all the Xanthalian forces are on the highest alert, with weapons ready and shields active. Renku, too, normally abustle with traffic taking off and landing at the spaceports on its surface, is isolated by its dual defensive shields: one Xanthalian made projected down by satellites in high orbit, the other Coredian and projected up from the surface.

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OOC: I have a feeling that things are going to get chaotic around here as more people join the fray. Let's all do our best. At Warshrike's request (and because it's just a good idea), here's a map of where Mirfak's planets are right now.

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v88/Zorak950/Mirfaktemp.jpg

Several Xanthalian ships come about to face the new "threat" before the targets are confirmed as allies. In the meantime, station YLZ-15's shields are overcome by the overwhelming firepower directed at them, and the station's hull disintegrates under the sustained barrage, then explodes in a fireball quickly consumed by the void when one of its antisubstance containment tanks is pierced. In the absence of orders from their commander, which will be long in coming due to the distance between Renku and the system's perimeter, the commanders make a critical decision to challenge these ruthless adversaries, destroy them, delay them in their march against Xanthal. The Xanthalian ships at Danika attack, and instruct the New Dornalians to do the same. The assault begins with a barrage of thousands of the powerful antimatter explosives Xanthal calls hokali, which race across the thousands of kilometers between attackers and defenders at high sublight speed, twisting and turning, zigging and zagging their way to their targets: focused on the most threatening, best-shielded vessels, which their power can destroy with an efficiency impossible for Xanthal's shorter-range and less-destructive energy weapons. The hokali are followed closely by a charge of gel, Xanthalian assault ships built for melee combat. Behind these, limited by their size and slower acceleration, the lesu race towards engagement with the enemy as well.

The ships under Kantazakis' command move to engage the enemy the Xanthalians are facing near Danika. As they moved to close the gap They open fire with their own antimatter torpedoes, People's Hammer torpedoes with 160kg of antimatter, at the most heavily shielded enemy ships before following up with Demolisher Gun and Ion Cannon shots. Powerful descendants of Chronosian Warp Cannons, they would provide a long distance punch necessary for the brawl up ahead. The antimatter torpedoes were not as manueverable as the hokali and were somewhat slower, but they had onboard shielding and advanced targeting that would enable them to compete.

Afterwards, Kantazakis ordered the Komsomol III fighter-bombers and the Marinesko II fighters out, along with Mobile Suits, to begin attack runs on the enemy vessels. Arranging themselves in x-shaped defensive formations, they were joined by the other ships as they begin racing to close the gap along with their Xanthalian allies. For good measure, they also charged up their Super Warp Cannons...these would be needed soon enough.

OOC: Before I write up my next post, I'd appreciate links to some stats on the ships I'm now fighting. Thanks.

From the opposite side of the system to where these events took place, energy signals began appearing as the first Protectorate Warfleet made since the Mitani Wars. Almost 600 ships winked back into the universe, with the symbol of the Shrike glaring outwards to her foes on the hull of each one.

And to her allies went three message as follows, on a secure channel and one from each of three ships, the first sounding an average man, the second a heavier, raspier sounding voice which had difficulty with the sounds, and the final a dreamy female voice, highly seductive and yet not quite human.

Brave friends of the GFFA and nation of Xanthal, this is grand admiral Duvall of fleet Augerin 00173, captain of the Dali'Lopez, Protectorate of Warshrike, reprisentitives of the Serrinites, Slitherzakai and Nephilim and all other races under her folds. We recieved your message and came with haste to your species aid in this moment of need, but let this not be forgotten: We will help defend your species only. If you wish to pursue these foes down after we repel them, we will not aid you. In the name of the Shrike we will die, in the service of life we will be rembered.

Greetingss friendss of the Protectorate. We are the Sslitherazakai under kommand of admiral Ssss-Thsss, and we bid you grow strong and prossper

I am Admiral Felissa of the Nephilim. No further commune is required, as no doubt that fool human will send you a far more... elaborate and pointless speech

After this, and without further communication the fleet splits into four different groups, each seeming alien to the next. The Serrinite section, and largest of the three, and the Slitherzakai section begin moving directly to Danika, going aroung the systems southern side, the Sliths massive barges leading in an impenetrable wall and the Serrinites more standard ships broken into several wedges.
The Nephilim Section and the 50 Hives move towards the northen rim, seemingly going to Renku, Nephilim ships speeding ahead of all other three sections, made to slip through anything with ease

OOC:Fleet Augerin 00173 contains the following ships-
Serrinite Ships- 50 Hive class Heavy Carriers, each carrying 500 Bee interceptors and 1000 Wasp fighters

10 Dimini class Heavy Cruisers
1 Drej class Flagship, Dali'Lopez
9 Mersi class Escort Cruisers
30 Connar class Cruisers
50 Merka class Battle Cruisers
50 Lokny class Battle Cruisers
50 Askar class Battle Cruisers
100 Indep class Light Cruisers

Slitherazakai Ships-1 Masto class Flagbarge, Dermminas
49 Jugern Ramming Barges
50 Zerax Boarding Barges

Nephilim Ships-1 Leopard class Grand Cruiser, Caitlin
99 Felie class Light Cruisers
50 Leo class Light Cruisers

OOC - Same goes for us.

Valor's Rest Station, Fleet Staging Grounds
Nelvaan, Koobi System. High Orbit

The latest numbers from the Salmath system were coming in. Fleets from all across the Extra-Solar Union were being represented, but a very strong force of Horde elite warships stood between them and the Kendari. Fifteen hundred of the Horde's finest against countless enemy forces, with only the Org'rimma to battle the famed "uber-ships" that the foul Union used. It would be a battle worthy of song. However, it also left the Horde Defense Force without a third of its standing navy. Even if they pushed every ship into service, it left a weakpoint in the Rodinan Sector's defenses.

That weakpoint was further defined when a report from the Mirfak system arrived. Yet another force of the disgusting Union creatures had appeared, and in great numbers. Xanthal was weak, the Horde knew. They'd voted seemingly against every military operation and advancement the Federation had had a vote on. Their politicians had probably never even picked up an axe or rifle, let alone fought in a war. The Horde had been forged in the fires of battle. They knew what it was like to live knowing that each second could be their last.

But the loss of Xanthal would expose another Federation flank, and that could not be allowed.

The Fourth Fleet, made up of mostly carrier groups, prepped for Nether journey, and launched within the hour.

OOC: This post sets up a character on fleet B. It doesn’t have any reactions to the shots being fired at my ships, since I dunno how to describe the scene, since I have no idea what your ships look like, or how their weapons will affect me.

Interstellar space, Mindsetti Fleet B

In the instant of awakening he assumed there had been a mistake. He was still in the black cabinet. Only a moment earlier the technicians had been cutting him open, stuffing tubes into him, pulling pieces out, examining and replacing them like children looking for treats. He’d died. More than once, he thought, but his memory was hazy. Now they were here again, white-hooded forms shuffling around him in a gauzy haze of vapour. He found it difficult to focus on them, the white forms blurring and joining like clouds.

“What…” he started to say. But he couldn’t speak. There was something packed into his mouth, chafing his throat with sharp edges.

One of the technicians leant into his field of view. The blue and white relaxed into a face framed in a hood, the lower half concealed behind a surgical mask.

“Easy, sir, don’t try talking for a moment.”

He made a sound that was both furious and interrogative. The technician appeared to understand. He pushed back his hood and lowered his mask, revealing a face that was almost recognisable.

“Female?” He spluttered. The technician smiled, as a mother would to a sick child.

“You’re safe,” the woman said. “Everything worked. Soon, you’ll work again. Better than new.”

He grunted another question. “The Empire?”

The smile faded slightly. “All but destroyed. In the end Nurik conquered all. The Mindset is his, now.”

He tried to move his arms, but they felt like they were laced with neutronium.

“Don’t try to move yet,” the woman warned. “Your new body is still delicate, and your new implants have yet to fully propagate. Forgive me for saying, sir, but some were particularly… invasive. You’ll be in some pain until your nervous system replacement comes online.”

For a moment none of these things meant anything to him. Then his memories bundled themselves into some kind of order, some kind of sense. There was a feeling of dislocation, of standing on one side of a rift that was widening, gaping open to geological depths. The land that had seemed immediately in reach a second or two ago was racing away into the distance, forever inaccessible. The memory of the technicians pushing wires into him suddenly felt ancient, something from a second or third hand account, as if it had happened to someone else entirely.

They pulled the breather assembly from his throat. He took ragged breaths, each inhalation feeling as if finely ground glass had been stuffed into a widening gap between his medulla oblongata and his cerebral cortex. Was it ever this bad, in previous rebirths? He strained to remember, his freshly copied neurons struggling under their virgin loads. He guessed he’d never know for sure. His memory of this ordeal was already beginning to fade.

It was enough to make him laugh. Frozen by drugs, his body limply strapped to a medical table, various tubes, wires and scanners attached to his body, he opened his mouth and let out a long, hideous laugh. It grew and grew until it caught somewhere in his chest, and his manic laughter devolved to sobs that shook his entire body. His face contorted with grief, tears sliding down his face, he looked at the technician floating above him.

“Nurik?” He asked.

“You’ll see,” replied Paula Myo.

OOC: Specifications on Xanthal's spacecraft are available in its factbook. This link will take you directly to them: http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Xanthalian_spacecraft

Come to think of it, everybody here should probably link to whatever information is available on their ships. That includes both sides.

All my ship and technology information can be found here (http://wiki.esusalliance.co.uk/index.php?title=Mindsetti_ship_classes). Specifically, the Battleforge MkII, Sonne, Sonne MkII and McCoy classes.

At first there was only one ship, appearing in the blink of an eye just hundreds of kilometers ahead and fifty kilometers “below” the Mindsetti fleet. Its slender hull was smooth, not unlike many luxury pleasure ships found throughout the galaxy, and belied the firepower held within the vessel. Small hatches slid open, revealing a plethora of small arms across her hull, rising out of their protective housing for the first time in decades. The two massive turret batteries that adorned the top of the ship’s hull swiveled silently, taking aim at the incoming wave of space mines that the Xanthalian ships had unleashed, the brilliant energies growing within the gun’s housing glowing within the massive barrel. And as it let fly its destructive hail, the fire and plasma and burning energies of war, fifty-two other ships appeared at its flanks as quickly as it had arrived, all spewing their own multitudes of fire or small craft at the incoming barrage.

Within moments, a second force identical to the first appeared directly above the Mindsetti fleet, their guns coming alive within moments after their arrival. As a third force, strangely absent of the three larger ships that accompanied both of the other new fleets, arrived, a holo-message was broadcast across an open channel, directed at the ESUS ships in attendance. The bearer of the message was a rugged, human man who appeared to be in his early forties by Terran standards. His simple black, high-collared uniform was adorned with a silver gorget that hung from his neck, emblazoned with the symbol of the ESUS behind the Penguenian Imperial Seal. He spoke in a curt, yet soothing voice that strangely commanded all who heard to listen.

“This is Grand Admiral Kif Hazaad of the Penguenian Dreadnought Resplendent. On behalf of the Penguenian Empire, I apologize for our tardiness, but by the Emperor, we are here. Any orders received from non-Penguenian commanders will be taken under advisement. None shall be spared in our fury.”

~*~

The Penguenian battlegroup’s delay really should have been expected. During the ESUS proceedings concerning the declaration of war on the GFFA, the Penguenian representative had been strangely absent, their proxied vote accompanied by a note of political disapproval. Within the Imperial Palace itself, the nation’s leaders made no allusions towards the feigned ignorance towards the cause of this war as so many of their peers within the alliance had, even though Penguenian politicians had been left in the dark concerning the declaration of war. No, for the Penguenians, this was what their military did best – pure, unfretted imperialism.

Standing on the bridge of his flagship, one of the two dreadnoughts that were sent in support of the ESUS war efforts, Grand Admiral Kif Hazaad thought upon the losses that would be suffered in the coming hours. The fact that the destroyer ace, Admiral Rex Teras and his strike fleet was placed under his command gave him some comfort, but he feared that they would be overwhelmed by the hordes of inferior craft that they surely faced. Compared to the vast majority of stellar navies that he’d encountered, Penguenia’s was dwarfed in nearly every way, from size of vessel, to number of ships that made up the fighting force. However, none, he thought, compared to Penguenia in training and only few in technological sophistication. Despite all of that, though, he concluded that many would die today in the name of the ESUS.

The already fierce battle that raged outside seemed to mesmerize the man, staring out through the clear glass floor that seemed to merge flawlessly with the bridge’s main window. With the press of a glowing toggle on the holo-panel generated near the command chair that he stood beside, the battle seen all around through the clear bulkheads of the bridge faded to the drab blue-gray of the ship’s interior as the tiny crystals that allowed such a spectacle deactivated. He slowly turned and sat down, pressing a few more toggles in preparation to speak to the three fleets under him.

“First and second groups, please maintain a fire-perimeter around the Mindsetti fleet. The Prime’s assured safety should be considered a priority,” he began. “Second group should fall back several hundred kilometers soon, as not to be overwhelmed. Third group, you are given authority to engage the enemy forces as you see fit, however, it is under advisement that you engage what have been identified as Xanthalian Gel attack craft.” Hazaad paused for a moment, as he wondered of the majesty that was a Penguenian Destroyer Strike Fleet in action, before continuing, “Teras, I expect nothing less than total victory from your fleet.”

A reply quickly came back with a hint of cockiness amidst the otherwise disciplined confirmation, “Of course, Sir. We do not know defeat.” The two other admiral’s replies came shortly after, confirming their orders. Then, Grand Admiral Kif Hazaad stood again, re-activating the bridge’s transparency as he did so. He smiled, looking out over the battlefield with glassy eyes for a few more moments before moving on to discuss the fight ahead with the ship’s officers.

ooc: Here (http://www.esusalliance.co.uk/forums/viewtopic.php?t=42) should have the most up to date Penguenian stuff. The forces currently committed to the battle (and, at this time, to the war) follow:

3rd Imperial Fleet - Expeditionary (Group 1)
Executioner Class Dreadnought MKII [1]
Idolater Class Cruiser-Carrier MKII [2]
Sabbat Class Destroyer MKII [50]

1st Transystem Strike Fleet for the Protection of Colonial Systems (Group 2)
Executioner Class Dreadnought MKII [1]
Idolater Class Cruiser-Carrier MKII [2]
Sabbat Class Destroyer MKII [50]

1st Imperial Strike Fleet - Destroyer (Group 3)
Sabbat Class Destroyer MKII [50]

OOC: Fleet Augerin 00173 Sheilding and weapons tech here= http://z14.invisionfree.com/Galactic_Federation/index.php?showtopic=1013
Sorry if you wanted something a bit more... in depth... Anyway... If ever I cant post, another member of GFFA should feel free to fill in for me, preferably Xanthal as it is his system...

OOC: Before I write up my next post, I'd appreciate links to some stats on the ships I'm now fighting. Thanks.

OOC: Well then....lemme give you those stats. I hate doing this, I don't have exact stats for a lot of my vessels, and some of those i do have are out of date.

http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=11235755&postcount=203 <--Marinesko II Fighter

http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=10939704&postcount=163 <--Komsomol III Fighter-Bomber

Lin Biao II-class Heavy Cruiser (based on Thrashian Galantine)
Image (http://i19.photobucket.com/albums/b184/Upum/New%20MS%20Folder/battleship_andromeda.jpg)
NAME/TYPE:Lin Biao II-class Heavy Cruiser
DESIGNER/MANUFACTURER: Various State Shipyards (Paris Commune Shipyard, Karl Liebknecht Shipyard).
COMBAT DESIGNATION: Light ship-to-Ship combat vessel
DIMENSIONS-
Length: 1.5km
Width: 300m
Height: 550m
PASSENGERS: space for 4,300
CREW: 200; 50 gunners due to heavy automation (Gracie 2.0 AI System plus EVA Project automation w/ drones handle a lot of mundane tasks. This applies to all navy vessels.)
SPEED RATING: 120 MGLT Space/ kph Atmosphere
HYPERDRIVE: x8
WEAPONS:
24 Anaconda Torpedo Launchers (Anaconda uses an internal replicator to produce a near infinite supply of conventional and ion torpedoes, so as long as power exists, we can fire. Of course, specialized singularity and antimatter weapons must still be loaded and fired manually.).
35 Demolisher Guns
150 Gauss Miniguns for point defense

Mao Zedong III as currently used (excerpted and modified from Idea Thread)

The new hull, which these designs are made from, resembles this (http://content.answers.com/main/content/wp/en/7/74/Daedalus_in_orbit.jpg). Also, the size is two and a half kilometers length, 500 meters in height, and 300 meters in width....[Mao Zedong III is]cleared to use the Amethyst System [a method of detecting cloaked ships using a targeting laser and microwaves] and other defensive suites, such as Temporal Shielding and Abblative Armor. Some newer models even have anti-laser systems, though these are mainly on Home Guard units (ooc: they will not appear here.)

Mao Zedong III has a Super Warp Cannon on the front, 35 Demolisher Gun Triple Turrets (three guns per turret), 15 Ion Cannons, 70 Gauss Miniguns for point defense, and 60 Anaconda Torpedo Launchers. It also has the FTL-4 Bosun Drive Hyperdrive System, allowing for near instant jumps, and is powered by a Singularity Reactor of Minbari type. Hyperdrive Ratio is 4x for Mao Zedong, and MGLT is 80 for Mao Zedong.

The Deng Xiaoping battlecruiser is based off of the Mao Chassis, but simply reduce its stats by a quarter for everything to get a feel for it.

Crew is 800-1,000, again lessened due to heavy automation.

Zaitsev II as used-

Zaitsev II resembles a standard Imperial Star Destroyer with no tower, and a sleeker, shinier look.

The Zaitsev II carries 30 Demolisher Gun Triple Turrets, 30 Ion Cannons, and 50 Gauss Miniguns for Point Defense, plus 16 Anaconda Torpedo Launchers. Zaitsev II features the FTL-4 Bosun Drive, with a Hyperspace Ratio of 6x and MGLT Factor of 130. Zaitsev II is 900m long 500m tall 300m wide. Both ships are cleared to use the Amethyst Stealth Detection System, temporal shielding, and abblative armor. Power is provided by a Singularity Reactor of Minbari type. Crew is 350-500 men, lessened by heavy automation.

Drama Casserole Class vessels--> http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=9725202&postcount=1

Hope this helps. BTW all ships are upgraded with current ND Technology, as well, to cover anything I missed.

The equally quick and unexpected response of the Penguenian fleet wards off several of the Xanthalian missiles, but only a fraction of them. The rest close in on their targets and explode upon impact, unleashing the destructive force of a matter-antimatter detonation on the enemy's strongest vessels. The gel quickly close the remaining distance and are among the enemy fleet. The small and powerful ships attack the Mindsetti forces viciously, ignoring the Penguenian and Jordaxian fleets, using their position among the Mindsetti to shield them from fire. The gel are efficient attackers, never staying on one course for more than a few seconds and never stopping. Their tremendous agility at high speed makes attacks directed at them by the enemy, especially missile attacks, almost as likely to hit other ships in the tightly-knit battlegroup. Their own antiproton cannons, meanwhile, wreck even more havoc than the enemy's own friendly fire, targeting ships weakened but not destroyed by the hoksai, then swarming other vessels. Unfortunately, their weak shielding is telling at this close range, and several ships fall almost immediately to retaliatory fire. However, the vast majority of the 250 gel survive the initial barrage and fight on.

Renku is a tranquil pond to the raging ocean of Danika. Around the third planet things move slowly, all preparations already complete on the Xanthalian side. Their forces drift through space, deceptively quiet as the crews within stand ready for fierce battle; but the ships sent from Northrop-Grumman remain cloaked and do not fire, and Xanthalian ships hold their fire as well. Elsewhere in the system, one by one as they detect the proceedings at Danika, almost all of the remaining forces set course for the outer planet at high speed. Many of the facilities in the inner system begin to evacuate as the defense forces abandon them to face the enemy. The volume of the attack is staggering. Victory, if it is even possible, depends on the allies focusing their efforts. In the atmosphere of intense concentration on tracking the battle at Xanthalian command centers, the arriving fleet from the Protectorate is greeted only with an automated message that displays a tactical map of the system as it was a full hour ago: the most recent integrated data available to the Xanthalian commanders with their primitive sensors.

First there was nothing. In the inky void far beyond the edge of the system it was but a dark expanse of black, save for the bright point that was the star of Mirfak.

Then, they existed. Three in number, the massive Heighliners drifted through space, sensor suites working on overdrive to acquire sensor information.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Achaedan Fleet arrived at entry coordinates and conducting deep-scans.

Excellent.

Recognized, heavy resistance against allied forces, multiple hostile fleets en route to the system. Acquiring targets and preparing insertion mechanism twelve gamma.

Show them pain.

They will understand.

They will all understand.

We will make them understand.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

OOC: I'm gonna wait for the Gaia Rodina and Abh fleets to arrive before 'entering' combat.

Thorn:


“What do you mean they need help”

“Reports show there were four allies backing up Xanthal. The current forces cannot stand up to their unexpected numbers.”

“Good thing we have plenty of unused fleets set aside for just this contingency. Contact the 3rd Imperial Fleet at Gleise. Instruct them to proceed to the combat zone but appear nearby and go in through T-Space.”

“Yes Sir”



Gleise Shipyards:


The 3rd Imperial Fleet slipped out of their holding position and approached the edge of the system. A large wormhole appeared and the fleet was swallowed by the aperture.

Ten minutes later a wormhole opened near the Mirfak System. Immediately after exiting the wormhole, the ships Uplifted to T-Space and used the dimensional space to approach unseen and undetected. The Infiltrator cruisers scanning afr ahead using their full arrays of sensors from standard conventional ones to the dimensional sensors Balrogga developed.



OOC:

Just a post showing I am on the way for now.

OOC: My stats are on my NSwiki page which is in my sig so that should take care of that part.

IC:

For-runners had been launched from the flagship as the large fleet would take some time to navigate planespace. However, the communication ships were lighter and could practically "fly" through it all. It was with this in mind that the Imperial Admiral wished to asess the situation at hand before running head long into battle. The light nimble craft flashed from the Sord that was positioned near the systems glowing sun.

It exited in a relatively safe zone as the battle was off quite a distance. Already the pilot could read the events unfolding and scan ship types and origins that were known. Battle looked promising with allies arriving and the Abh fleet coming up from the rear. Perhaps an even footing could be gained and push another ESUS attack back. From the rear of the shuttle, a small device was launched back into the gate for the fleet to pickup and lay out details. The shuttle would remain sending updates on the battle through the Sord.

Back on the flagship, Gaf'ton drummed his fingers with anticipation. Every second spent getting to the battle would mean another life of an ally lost on the battlefield. This was such a time when they could not loose lives so easily. Perhaps the old empire could toss around a few thousand lives in a single battle with ease to simply erase the pressence of a persistant enemy. Things were not the same with this break-off, but perhaps one day they would return to that glory and fix the old problems. The first reports would be due fairly soon at their present course. But there was another matter that would require his attention before all was said and done.

"Highness, here is the data you requested."

Gaf'ton reached over and took the datapad from the ensign's hands. His eyes skimmed over another ship movement. Heavy equipment, generators, and other necessary items. Things were proceeding according to plan with the commencement of the battle though it was a far hope that everything would turn out as expected.

The Abriel erased the contents of the file and handed the datapad back over. His eyes cascaded down to the holodeck where the chart for space time lay. It was only matter of time now.

OOC: I’m actually rather annoyed that you feel I should explain myself. Penguenia was part of the original Gamma fleet, but has been unable to participate until now due to RL issues. He was in the original list I provided you at the beginning of this war. Northrop-Grumman is unavailable this weekend, and since you called in reinforcements without consulting with me first (New Dornalia and Abh had already posted by the time you spoke to me), I saw now problem with replacing Northrop-Grumman and Indra Prime (who is AWOL). I trust you will recognise this as simply evening out the numbers, since both Balrogga and Godular are nothing more than privateers.

IC:

The MSN Majestic the thirteen-kilometer long flagship of the Mindsetti fleet, briefly flared with the strength of a thousand suns as space immediately adjacent filled with ultra-hard radiation. The ship’s AI began plotting the Xanthallian missile vectors, overlaying them as neat, digitised icons in the virtual vision of its crew. Anthan subconsciously gritted his teeth, as the energy barrage taxed the electron latticework of the shields. Some of the McCoy class ships flanking their larger companion were not so lucky: they succumbed to the fusion blasts ricocheting off the shields, adding to the mélange.

A priority datavise appeared in Anthan’s peripheral vision, neatly stacked above the ship status readouts. With his expanded mentality operating at maximum speed, it took Anthan less than a picosecond to open the message, which read: “Sir, we will be unable to withstand continuous barrage of these missiles. Shielding is coping, for now, but will not continue to do so as other weapons are pointed our way. We have lost six McCoy class cruisers in the first volley. We cannot continue with these casualty rates.”

Anthan dismissed the message with a virtual flick of his wrist.

A repetitive blinking light disrupted the darkness of the mammoth ship’s docking bay. At first, it blinked alone, failing to illuminate even the smallest fraction of the abyssal depths of the ship. Then, dozens, then tens of dozens then finally many thousands of identical lights flickered to life, their mercury-blue glow casting the shadows off revealing the true power of the Battleforge: four thousand, five hundred automated fighter craft prepped their systems, powered their weapons and shielding systems, and began their swift procession to the gaping wormhole filling the central cavity of the ship.

Anthan oversaw this activity from the sealed command capsule at the heart of the Majestic. He was simultaneously alerted by a datavised proximity alert. “The fleet is too clumped together. We need to spread ourselves out. Relativistics, can we form a stable voidhole this close to a planetary body?”

The Relativistics bridge officer immediately datavised a reply. “I believe so, Sir, but it will have severely limited range. I can give us half a lightminute at best.”

Anthan was relying on the AI discrimination programs to triangulate enemy ship positions. It was having limited success; more Xanthallian missiles had impacted the shields, all but blinding sensors in that direction. He paused for a few picoseconds.

“Do it.”

Space outside the ship tore open. For a moment, anyone looking at it would have experienced true, infinite emptiness. The pseudo-fabric of the voidhole, while technically null-length, disallowed two-way travel, and was therefore totally black. So black, in fact, that it appeared to amplify the vivacity of its immediate surroundings into a technicolour hell of stray photons and ultra-hard radiation. The immense ship silently slipped beyond the event horizon, conscientiously closing the rip in space behind it.

It emerged one hundred thousand meters behind the Xanthallian fleet, and immediately opened fire with a volley of plasma blasts, interspaced with streaks of maser energy that sought to scour valleys in the enemy hull. Meanwhile, the heavy gravitic cannons began then five-minute chargeup sequence, preparing to launch a chaotic barrage of exotic energy at the Xanthallian fleet.

The thirty-nine Sonne battleships began a graceful display of interstellar ballet as their combat programs went into primary mode. They opened fire with long-range ion cannons, targeting both the New Dornalia and Xanthallian fleet. Meanwhile, the remaining twenty-seven McCoy class cruisers arced over their more powerful counterparts, and each slipped into their own voidholes – emerging randomly between New Dornalian ships, before proceeding to unleash as much energy as their weapons would allow.

Anthan watched the battle timer count another minute go by. Another four and he’d be able to deploy the gravitic cannons. Another two and he’d have over four thousand expendable fighters acting as cover from the Xanthallian missile strikes. For now, he waited, patiently.

“Your move, arseholes,” chimed Nurik.

The quickly charged temporal shielding and the quickly deployed abblative armor of the New Dornalians absorbed most of the violence thrown at them (though moderate damage was still recorded throughout), but those ships that got in between them made Kantazakis very, very nervous. He had to get up and out of there, fast.

He ordered half of his ships to move downwards and half to move upwards as fast as possible. The gravitic energies of the Mirfak system had rendered the Bosun Drives useless; Kantazakis cursed the designers but realized nothing could be done. Well, nothing except attacking while he moved; he proceeded to throw a ton of Ion Cannon and Demolisher Gun shot for at least six minutes at the McCoys in between him, as they moved, engineering quickly charging their shields up all over while they did this (they had taken a lot and needed to recharge, fast). The Drama Casseroles, which were moving upwards along with the Lin Biaos and Mao Zedongs also began deploying more Komsomol III and Marinesko II fighters to raise hell in the form of attack runs with lots of torpedoes on the enemy McCoys; whatever the energy shots didn't get, they would. The ships moving downwards, meanwhile, continued shooting at the McCoys with torpedoes and their own Demolishers. Every ship, regardless of size, had Demolisher Guns....

Meanwhile, provisions were made to fire their Super Warp Cannons at the enemy as well...all of the Mao Zedong IIIs turned to the Mindsettis along with the Potemkin, and these unleashed their loads of Super Warp Cannon fire, long distance, at the enemy. Also weapons of Chronosian Origin, they had since become a kind of Yamato Cannon, a powerful directed energy weapon that had to be charged, harnessing the powers of the Warp to deliver pain, death, and all things of that sort in a massive, deadly shot at the Mindsetti forces, targeting their Sonnes.

All the while, the previously deployed fighters and Mobile Suits continued on.....they suffered the most casualties from the wave of attack, especially the Mobile Suits, and they went into evasive Manuevers to try and avoid the Super Warp barrage...

OOC: My issue isn't with your calling reinforcements, but rather how they got here. When were they called for, where did they come from... that kind of thing. I never asked you to explain Penguenia, because I know its forces were standing by to jump in from the start. Balrogga's and Godular's though, as far as I'm aware, were not. I would be appreciative if someone would explain the in-character sequence of events precipitating their arrival.

IC: The line of hokali sustain several losses immediately as the Mindsetti ships open fire from behind, and the shockwaves from their destruction damage other vessels. The remaining 77 hokali come slowly about, losing five more of their number in the process, and release the rest of their hoksai, about a thousand projectiles, at the Mindsetti fleet. The vessels supplying them peel off, and the hokal charge at their antagonists, closing the distance as quickly as they can, diverting power to forward shields.

Meanwhile, ten million kilometers away in proximity to Danika, the 200 remaining gel in the area, left vulnerable by the departure of the Mindsetti ships swerve towards the nearby Jordaxian fleet, closing the distance in mere seconds. They unleash upon the Jordaxians the same fury that caused their allies to scatter, letting their lasers play both offense and defense as they attack targets in small groups with antiproton cannon fire. They avoid as much fire as they can by moving erratically through the enemy fleet, swerving around vessels, changing their vectors constantly. Though the tactic is highly effective, it is dangerous as well. More than a few gel crews become unwitting kamikazes when their pilots miscalculate or round an obstacle to find another in their path. While this is not the way the attack pattern is supposed to function, it works to the Xanthalian advantage in a sense, because the impact of an assault ship is sufficient to obliterate almost any of the enemies they face with the combined physical impact and resulting explosion of conventional and antimatter fuels, sometimes even enough to take out adjacent ships as well.

Finally, communication bubbles stopped transmitting in and out of the Sord. The Imperial Admiral's fleet had arrived all the way from the Abh Empire with swarms of vessels big and small. Gaf'ton gained his feet from a long trip to the Xanthal system and it was high time that they made themselves useful. "All ships go to full speed, we have to make up for lost time. Chief, make preparations for our supply fleet and contingents to enter normal space upon my command."

The female Abh eased a salute. "Yes sir."

Improvements to engine output had been made overtime as well as gravity or inertia control. Still, there was one factor that still would continually hold them back. Never could a human withstand the force of acceleration that an Abh could. It was just a simple fact of life. Humans were "inferio" in this regard.

Good to see you, my Lord, you're just in time. ISIS chirped through the silence of the bridge to Jutan. Around him, crew lay embedded in their g-seats, in case a sudden burst of acceleration was called for. Without wasting any time, Jutan sat down in his own segment of the seat, as its webbing quickly swam over him, and sensing the amount of transmissions he was receiving, allowed his mind to sink into his neural net.

For a moment I suspected I would be commanding this battle myself, Lord. I took the liberty of formulating a few plans en route. They've been looked at meticulously, I just need your authorisation to enact them. Of course you will be kept up to date as and when things change. The battlenet spoke again, this time simply beaming directly into his head.

"Ensure that you do. Keep on top of anything that changes, and keep contact with our allies smooth. What's the current status outside?" Jutan enquired calmly.

Nothing at the moment, Lord.... wait. I'm receiving a flurry of Xanthallian missiles, they're not aiming for the mindsetti this time.

"We are being drawn into the battle then. Satisfactory!" He beamed back. "Launch a defensive contingent of hummingbird missiles, instruct them to intercept our foe. Couple that with a return volley, varied load. Are they within hornet range yet?"

Indeed they are, Lord.

"Wonderful. Give them a taster of Jordaxian technology. Aim for larger vessels. The hummingbirds shall deal with the smaller ones. I also notice we're without our Boomstick escort. They were here when I left the ship." He noted, a trace element of humour in his aging voice.

Well spotted. I instructed them to remain behind. They'll join us when you give the order. Best to not reveal all our capabilities in the first blow.

"I concur."

As Jutan gave the orders, ISIS immediately began to relay them to the assorted captains of the fleet, as their minds lay connected to the battlenet. As the Xanthallian Hoksai closed, the several of the saucer shaped craft that comprised the majority of the Jordaxian fleet came to life. From opening hatches in their surface, pinpoints of light streaked out, and momentarily like a new starfield, hung delicately in the cosmos. The moment passed, however, and the lightpoints began to move once more. The missiles, as they were, receiving sensor data from ISIS as they targetted the Hoksai. Flaring intently as they picked up speed, they closed on the drunken Xanthallian missiles, splitting apart as they done so, more numerous, smaller points of lights emerging from the larger. It was then that, before both groups of missiles even begun to intercept, that several dozen hoksai erupted in plumes of flame, as one-shot masers deployed from many hummingbirds ripped through their targets. At the point of impact, chaos ensued. Hoksai met hummingbird in hundreds of firey explosions, as missile trails intersected. Dutifully following their coding, jamming submunitions began to fill space with noise and decoy signals, trying to lure the hoksai away from their targets. Those hummingbirds that overshot their target first time, and had departed from the melee began to swing round as they re-examined priorities. Expending large quantities of fuel, they catapulted back into the swarm, scanners eagerly searching for targets with high impact probability, before gracefully guiding their missile in for a flawless impact. Regardless, the Hoksai's pace and constant acceleration was a problem rarely faced by the hummingbird. Despite the rapid diminuation of the Xanthallian volley, the saucershapes loomed larger. More of the larger missiles began to combust under the relentless whittling assault of the hummingbird, unspent submunitions blasting maser beams through the rear of the Hoksai until eventually, they were no more. Their fuel expended, the hummingbirds themselves then spontaneously combusted, to prevent them inadvertently harming Jordaxian vessels through impacts.

It had not ended, however. Another volley leapt from the fleet, this time far larger than that which was tasked to destroy the Hoksai. Their engines burning brightly, they shot off to engage the Xanthallian forces as they assaulted the Mindsetti. There they would again break apart, enshrouding and striking the foe with maser and missile.. Before they reached their targets, however, the enemy would have to deal with another strike. Small, blue tinged circles began to break open in space-time, mere kilometres from concentrations of Xanthallians, where the larger targets were more likely to be. From them, missiles larger than the hummingbirds shot forth, their sensors grasping hold of the largest target they could find, before determinedly closing the distance within seconds. Like their smaller relatives, these Hornet missiles also deployed submunitions in the form of anti-formations explosives. seeking the closest group of ships, they would aim to damage or destroy as many as they could.



OOC: this only takes me up to the first attack against me, I've not gotten up to the gel yet. I don't expect this to greatly change anything, just so the first attack against me has been responded to. sorry it took so long.

A request for reinforcement had gone out, been heard, and considered, but privateers were not Wall combatants, the High Guard reluctant to commit it's expensive frigates to near certain doom, and even those of the Kanuckistani Adventurers' Guild didn't fancy their odd amidst the thermonuclear furball developing in Mirfak.


There were in all things exceptions, however, and a handful nevertheless rushed to the scene - many with all the reckless haste that was the KAG's stereotype.


It was, then, somewhat ironic that one of the more professional vessels in the Guild was the first to arrive, chance and circumstance seeing it a single jump away when word arrived.



It was a good light minute directly above the system's sun that the first sign appeared - the half-moment of frankly expressed uncertainty that was the signature of Kanuckistani displacers, heralding the sudden, unceremonious arrival of a dozen small, metal spheres, each no larger than a baseball and spread over a volume several light seconds across.

Seconds passed, forerunner probes refining the long range telemetry gathered via battlenet from allied ships, before an angular, slate grey kilometer of warship spontaneously appeared nearby, shields charged and rolling drones.

The KAGV Indefatigable (http://esusalliance.co.uk/upload/BB008.jpg) had arrived.


"This is suicide, you know..." a childish voice chided, and one Captain Lyon Mackenzie King turned from holotank to rest eyes upon the small teenage foxgirl slouched in his command chair.

"You underestimate yourself, Indie," he replied with a confident chuckle, gaze returning to the plot as a shells of drones formed up, a five light second deep halo of sensor, EW, and PD platforms rapidly developing.


"Alright people, let's hook a shark! Present broadside and initiate evasive random-walk, SLDS to the ready. Engage fields and countermeasures. Forward deploy whiskers against Abh formation and set FTLi to fifteen lightseconds. Guns, target Abh at your discretion, and make full use of those new S-fold magazines - I want them to think they've got a Battleplate on their hands!"


Ayes sounded and orders were executed, the paramilitary warship rolling, dissolving amidst a haze of sensor-distorting countermeasures nearly a dozen lightseconds across, even gravity readings horribly askew - FTLi racing out, as nested fields enveloped the ship for a thousand kilometers.



Ever swift, it would however take the ship's armouries a few moments to put the customized missile payloads together - time the enemy could use to respond - but it was not entirely wasted, as a cloud of sensor drones detached from the haze and vectored toward the Abh fleet, accompanied by their own, lesser countermeasures.

The arrival of an unknown ship sent alarms ringing out through the Imperial Admiral's flagship. Already members of the crew were going moving into battlestations like a well oiled machine. Alpha's were plugged into ports, weapons systems and HUB displays came online and it was at once that every Abh on board was aware of the greater universe around them. Now sensors would only be an added bonus to those commanding. Orders were given for ships within the fleet to go to high alert and prepare for combat. Ship hulls shimmered from within to give a transparent view of the outside darkness.

Gaf'ton's command chair contracted and slid under a panel in the deck clearing up the command bridge. "Gunnry officer, prepare Electromagnetic rifles."

"Yes sir. We are preparing Electromagnetic rifles now." Cartidges were loaded with anti-matter substance for an extra kick when colliding with enemy vessels. These were then loaded into tubes that would lead straight through electromagnetic coils as the same measures were being taken throughout the fleet. "Electromagnetic rifles are ready."

"Fill mobile mines with anti-matter."

Chutes on the outside opened wide as mobile mines were fueled with anti-substance for fuel. Anti-matter mines had been a main projectile weapon for the Abh though there were slightly different from the Socialist Republic's. "Mobile mines are fueled and ready for launch."

"Technological division, input codes to the Frontlineships to prepare for mine attack."

Great pylons of the Frontlineships opened wide as they prepared for a massive mobile mine volley. Fueling went non-stop until every mine was blue in the clear for launch. The man sitting behind the glass screen from techs, received a message from the ship's anaylsis crystal giving the all clear for mine attack. "All artillery ships are prepared to launch at your command Highness."

"Well done everyone. Communications officer, send word to attack fleet for them to take care of the drones. I want the light cruisers and Roth patrolships to break and swing around the drone cloud on two flanks. Guardships are to stay behind for support and lay down fire for the Roils." His command saber came out in a swift fluid motion, ringing all the while. "Let the fire dance begin."

Engines on the Roil attack vessels flared to life as they launched themselves towards the drones. Laser defense systems came on line as they prepared to go toe-to-toe here in space at the same time their massive anti-proton cannons charged to full capacity and prepared to fire.

"Deca-commander Abriel, take the Koto contigent and attack the center. Strike hard and fast."

"Yes sir, Figroil out." Ramaral looked over a place she had visited some time ago and now returned aboard an attack vessel.

Light cruisers and patrolships fired their engines at full burn as they split down the middle and swung wide to attack the lone ship.

It was then that the Indefatigable struck, her 424 inertial launch tubes spitting forth a volley of deceptively small missiles, then again, and again, ten times in all - the swarming mass of her opening deca-salvo forming up as it leapt from the haze of "electronic" warfare that was anything but, rapidly accelerating towards a cruising speed half that of light itself.

Spreading out in thin half-spherical shells, the hedgehogs took up the fore, housing a dozen light capital-attack direct-conversion bomb-pumped laser-heads each upon independent attack vehicles, separating well short of their targets and engaging in terminal attack maneuvers as they closed to their lasers' 25'000 kilometer attack range, then immolating themselves in pyres of transnuclear fire, cataclysmic energies feeding coherent lances of hellish light - their hosts covering this approach with their own EW, before slamming into the enemy with a fearsome kinetic punch.

The second line were the SALH, Standard(or Single, depending on who you asked) Attack / Laser Head; lightly stealthed and mounting their own EW, as near all Kanuckistani missiles, these carried much heavier warheads and an range double that of a Hedgehog's IAV, and so sat lingered half that back so all would strike at once.

Swarm Defence made up the next contingent, spread amongst the two, a potent sensor array built into each, with ranks for thirty six IAVs mounting dual-purpose laser/proximity conversion bombs for use against intercepting strikecraft and counter-missiles - those unspent enroute would make themselves known to the swarm's target, conducting kinetic strikes or, failing that, spending their light warheads against them.

The fourth tier was, in some ways, the meat of the swarm - missiles serving as dedicated EW platforms for swarmwide ECM and ECCM, augmented by racks for no less than sixty EW drones. EW/DR, spread throughout the sward

Enroute, the swarm maneuvered, optimising fields of fire, spreading to avoid transnuclear fratricide and minimise the usefulness of area-effect point-defence, positioning so as to crash upon the enemy within the span of half a second so as to minimise exposure to defencive fire, and just presenting an evasive target in general. And then, something happened; half-C, cruising speed, and reactionless drives switched from linear acceleration to evasive random-walks, a coordinated dance soon obscured in the blinding haze of EW that was far from limited to the 'mere' electronic - the entire performance coordinated via entanglement from the heart of the Indefatigable, an impossible ballet of jamming and decoys and dancing missiles upon the strings of her powerful expert systems.


And yet, one more player had entered the game; forty Blackjacks - high-end stealth missiles - sliding through the void, well beyond the edge of the swarm where the enemy would have to concentrate their sensors in light of it's missile-borne EW. Each mounted a single, supermassive "anti-capital formation" bomb as payload - a generous name, for rare was the navy inclined to pack their ships so conveniently tight, but it was nevertheless a mighty weapon. And used this way, just perhaps, one of terror.



-------------



"Deca-salvo away. Telemetry looks good - all forty-two hundred twenty datalinks check out."

King nodded as the gunnery officer reported, eyes upon the plot; a small smile forming as he considered the surprise likely upon the Abh commander by now - so few peoples appreciated the true art of a missile swarm, forged into a cohesive, collaborative weapon, as elegant as it was brutal, and instead contended themselves with lobbing simple warheads.

That Kanuckistani missiles happily cruised any measure of void, the same multi-millimeter NES skin that helped harden them against proximity soft-kills amply resilient in the face of most relativistic dust, reactionless drives saving fuel for extreme terminal attack maneuvers, would likely be found an unwelcome surprise - few would think they could so readily be taken under fire at such extreme range.

"Targeting priority?"

"Screen, sir."

"Reason?"

"Easier kills, sir," the KAG 'officer' replied without looking up, feline cyborg as ever focused on his job, where another might allow their Ratings to cover the momentary distraction, " - piss 'em off, keep them looking at us and out of the real fight. Ought to ablate their missile defence and help expose their heavies in general, which should help the Union fleets after we bug out, tho I'll try and introduce a few of the blackjacks to those same heavies so as to menace their fleet as a whole."

"Good man!" the Captain mused, watching the Abh continue to close - their enemy's range was unknown, and if he held outside it, he'd likely discourage pursuit. And yet, allowing them to bring their full fleet to bear was... to be seriously avoided.

"Helm, off-axis inertialess withdraw; reduce enemy closing speed to half. Standby to increase drive power and maintain separation as soon as they open fire"


And with that, the Indefatigable, rolling the internal nodes of her SLDS Sub-Cee array, started to withdraw "up" away from the orbital plane, motion increasing without physical acceleration as inertialess drives spun up, 'pulling' the ship away, off-axis, from the Abh at non-real speeds that soon halved the rate at which the enemy's lead elements could close - the fleet drones englobing her, remote-powered via CTE, having no trouble keeping up with their mother even amidst their chaotic dance.



--------------------
And the numbers.


4240 missile Deca-salvo.


1000x SALH

2000x Hedgehog

750x Swarm Defence

450x EW/DR

40x Blackjack

OOC: Bloody heck... where's Gaia Rodina? Gonna give until 6pm CST before I move in.

OOC: Well, Godular, it seems that I have decided to change my mind. I just remembered that a mutual military pact with Mirfak is still on the books. Damn. Pulls me into the war earlier than I expected. Nevertheless...

IC:
Reorganizing the Coredian Interstellar Defense Force after the fiasco at Jurai is still taking a long time, and quite a few big ships are still in the yards for repair. However, that's only true for the First and Second Fleets and elements of the Sixth Fleet. So as the High Command learns of Xanthal's plight from various channels, they order the Third and Seventh Fleets to prepare for possible deployment. Crew leave was cut short, munitions piled into magazine chambers and Admirals prepare to recieve their orders.

As the military debates the best course of action, a small, mostly unnoticable craft erupts from hyperspace and rockets towards Renku, harboring a message from the High Council to the Triumvirate. To ensure that it would make it to safety, the pilot was a Jedi Knight, Ginka Richards, and the craft was a Chase-X X-wing, the interceptor model of the famous starcraft.

A single burst of tightbeam code was sent from the fighter to the planet.

Urgent message for Triumvirate from Coredian High Council. Please acknowledge.

OOC: Unfortunate. Godulan sense of honor will prevent them from actively firing on your vessels or abh's unless you/abh fire at them first, of course. Just remember that the others are under no such compunction and the Godulans see no reason to hinder them.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

As the Coredian fighter made its way into the system, the three massive Heighliners continued scanning. Not far off, however, three strange mass signatures rested, barely noticeable amidst the interstellar medium.

Coredian hyperspace signature detected. Vector suggests destination of Planetname Renku.

We knew the pact would not last long. Too many agreements. Too many cavalier appointments.

Unfortunate.

Very unfortunate.

We shall shed tears for their dead.

We shall mourn their passing.

Initiate targeting, direct as neutral-conditional.

Transit solution acquisition in 26 minutes 13 seconds. Secondary force initiate insertion.

And with that, the three strange mass signatures darted towards the system, faster than the speed of light, but slow by such standards even then.

And the Heighliners waited.

OOC: Xanthal isn't going to fire unless fired upon either. It's not honor, it's the law.

IC: The Jordaxian missile barrage does more to devastate the Xanthalians than any attack so far. Xanthalian point defense lasers work with feverish speed and great effect, but there are simply too many. The line of hokali is devastated, series of impacts inevitably followed by the rupture of hulls and, more frequently than not, the target's complete destruction. It doesn't even take all the missiles fired to end the hokali's charge. Among the rubble of shattered hulls, torn components, and those few bits of charred human remains that had somehow survived the explosion of their vessels, two disabled ships continue to fly towards the Mindsetti on inertia alone, without weapons, shields, or engines, spinning slowly in space. The lesu abort their course for the Jordaxian and Penguenian fleets and turn to round the planet, retreating towards Renku. Among the Jordaxians, the gel alone continue their barrage, numbers slowly dwindling but incurring damage even as they are destroyed on the ships near to them.

The message sent by the Coredians recieves a reply as soon as the X-wing is in range of real-time audio-visual communications. However, the response comes not from one of the Triumvirs, but from a frightened-looking male. "This is..." the voice cracks slightly, and the speaker starts again. "This is the Alphin, acknowledging a message from the Coredian High Council."

OOC: I know I said I'd throw my forces in today, but I was hoping more people would respond to my secondary 'Okay we're moving in' post. Plus I have a moderate case of writer's block. I'll see about a post tomorrow... Gaia... where are youuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu...

"Better than nothing." Ginka noted. He knew that the Alphin was a high-level government official, but couldn't remember if that was executive or legislative. Never mind. He typed in a command, sending a tightbeam and encrypted notice to the Alphin.

Greetings from the High Council. This message is to serve notice to the Xanthal that we remember our military pact with them and will soon send assistance posthaste. Do not despair, but keep hope alive. May the Force give you strength.

It was short, but hopefully enough. Now comes the second task that Ginka must do, and the more dangerous. Scan, as much as possible, enemy positions and current composition so that Intelligence can give the proper information to the military.

"Al right, R5. Start Phase Two." Ginka ordered. R5 twittered acknowledgement and boosted the X-wing's sensor capabilities slightly, taking in the positions of all the guests of this party. "Let's see...Godulan, New Dornalian, Abh, Kanuckistani, and what's this...three new hostile fleets. R5, accept telemetry from allied forces and tell me what they are!"

R5 did so, asking for and recieving telemetry from friendly vessals. Mindsetti, Jordaxian, Penguenian. I'm fuzzy about anyone else.

It was enough. There's not enough memory in the X-wing computers to get any more detail than ally and enemy names and their locations. Further information will have to be conducted when the fleet arrives.

"Got everything we need." Ginka said, pulling back on the lever. "Now let's get the hell out of here!"

The X-wing spun 180 degrees and its afterburners lit up, pushing the starfighter towards the edge of the FTLi field, and freedom...

And so it was.

They arrived with no flash and no fanfare, as typical for the Godulan drives that brought them forth. Such would have seemed a contradiction, as one would have expected the arrival of such enormously massive vessels as the Godulan Heighliners to be somewhat flashier and awe inspiring than the simple what-once-was-not-there-is-now-there that the Godulans had grown used to since their early history.

Although, the fleets they were now hurtling towards at a substantial fraction of the speed of light would likely find it difficult to concentrate on pondering the colossal vessels' decidedly non-imposing entrance.

Three Heighliners, surging forward into a like number of fleets, the New Dornalian fleet, The Xanthalian fleet, and, surprisingly enough, the Abh fleet. They came, directed at the largest vessels of each respective fleet, with ramming speed and no sign of veering off.

OOC: Keep in mind, there may still be time for the targeted vessels to veer away...

Three Heighliners, surging forward into a like number of fleets, the New Dornalian fleet, The Xanthalian fleet, and the Abh fleet. They came, directed at the largest vessels of each respective fleet, with ramming speed and no sign of veering off.

OOC: Keep in mind, there may still be time for the targeted vessels to veer away...

The Potemkin and the Oliver Law and the Mao Zedongs moved fast to evade the Heighliner charge, loosening themselves up and entering into evasive movements, dumping Ion Cannon, Demolisher Gun and about 600 conventional torpedo shots collectively from alll the ships onto the monster as Kantazakis ordered: "Shit! Evasive manuevers, alpha strike enemy--NOW!!!"

OOC: Too tired this week to really be patient. My apologies if this post doesn't really add up to what you were doing. I'll make up for it in another post if it isn't.

Oh and Godular, I could have sworn that Kanuckistan put up an FTLi albeit a short range one.

IC:

The wall of lead that was fired at the attack vessels varitably lit up every counsel and covered the majority of most screens. Yes, Gaf'ton thought, this surely would turn out to be an Abh battle as they were in the days of old. Projectile against projectile, smaller vessels weaving in and out avoiding near death collisions with a hazardous warhead-laser fire igniting the darkness of the cosmos as everyone fought for their life. Sheer luck and training had every Roil armed and ready to fire when the volley was launched. Anti-proton cannons were set to their widest funnel and fired. The great thing about this position was that you were practically guaranteed to hit something. Some decided to hit their engines to max to blow right through their hole only to be confronted by yet another wave of projectiles. Others simply utilized their common eradict attack patterns and tried to defend themselves with laser fire and their anti-proton cannon. Unfortunatly, this would often lead to more missles locking on and trailing them.

The Figroil and her squadron blasted through the first wall and moved to and fro and high speeds that would make most black out. Thrusters fired in all directions to keep them moving and to never give the mobiles a good lock. Blue laser fire ripped here and there as something would get to close and get blasted from space. Ceilia gritted her teeth as she slammed her hand into the control glove. "Linewing aviator, give me what you can to the engines. Second aviator, bring the ship around to sector 5-3.4 and fire at targets 7 and 8. Supply officer, what is the ship's status."

"There is a slight breach in the hull from some shrapnel but we should be alright. Repairs are already taken place."

Ceilia's communication display flared to life in front of her as they were clearing group of missles for a brief moment. "Figroil are you alright?"

"Yes sir. We've taken slight damage but are holding our own at the moment."

"Keep up the good work. Our artillery ships should be preparing to launch a volley...Hold it. You've got some coming in off the port side."

"Use the anti-proton cannon now!"

Roths and the light cruisers went vertical giving chase to the fleeing Kanuckistan ships. They were out of range of their energy weapons and they wished to save their mines. Defense turrets whirled about with activity as they tried to keep the ships alive or as in good as shape as possible. Abh stubborness would persist in the end though no matter how many went down, they could still see the enemy and they would see them destroyed. Commanders pushed their engines to make high sublight speeds to help close the gap. They may not be close enough for their desired type of battle, but they could get their attention with some fire of their own. Electromagnetic coils flared to life as they fired away sending rounds at speeds near light. The wall of lead came from two directions as both flanks began to close in on each side.

The bridge of the Sumabildge was more calm and collected than the vessels that were out there slugging it out. Gaf'ton's ship sat back with the Guard ships and the artillery. His arms were crossed as he looked down at the holo deck. "It seems our Attack vessels need some help. Have the frontlineships launch a volley immediatly."

"Yes your highness."

From the couple hundred or so frontlineships, came thousands of the Abh type III mobile mines like much of the Socialist Republic's darting here and there in eradict flight patterns to give defense systems a run for their money. However, they differed in that they could divide into three seperate anti-matter warheads should they detect being fired upon. A few thousand could literally cloud of mines swarming of anything in the way.

"Chief, do we have the casualty reports yet?"

"No sir, reports are still coming in and we can't launch rescue operations yet to pick up the life pods with all the missles still floating around."

"Well this volley should take care of that problem for the moment..."

The woman working the scanners twisted her head to look up at the admiral. "Sir! Three incoming Godulan Heighliners on collision vector."

"Take evasive action but let them be. With this inhibitor up, they want have as many stunts to pull as they did with Admiral Bebaus. Keep monitoring them in anycase. If mines start leaving those concrete tubes, Guard ships are ordered to eradicate them."

"Aye sir."

The rear of the Abh fleet parted liked the Red Sea as the Heighliners passed by. Scanners were at full and sweeping them as they passed harmlessly by. Frontlineships began to reload their mine tubes and fuel them for another launch should the Imperial Admiral call for it.

OOC: As completion of probability transit counts as a 'completely natural event', it has the amusing penchant for breaching even the most comprehensive FTLi. Getting OUT of the FTLi is the problem, but that just means the Godulans are somewhat practiced at fighting with their backs to the wall, so to speak.

Now I just need Xanthal to respond so I can initiate phase 2 of 3, as phase 1 is occurring to the three of you simultaneously. And your fleet was only targeted by one Heighliner 'charge'

OOC:
ABH, all things considered, I'm going to assume you're just outside the fifteen lightsecond radius of my FTLi. I'd have liked a to get in another post or two before you got that far - a light minute is, afterall, a rather consequential distance - but it seems like the best compromise given your and Godular's posts.

It's also about as close as my captain would let you get before gunning the engines anyway :)


Oh, and I can't find any numbers on the strength of the Abh fleet here, which would be rather helpful.


Also, that missile salvo had been arranged so as to crash over your fleet in the span of a single second, to sweep through at half the speed of light, (hopefully)overwhelm point defence(which is the point of the all-at-once tactic), and devastate with a wall of cataclysmic laser fire as the warheads entered their considerable range - apologies if I didn't make this clear. You also seemed to have left my blackjacks unaccounted for.


IC:

The Abh salvo heralded a sudden change, Kanuckistani warship - or on sensors, the haze of drones and jamming that enveloped it, atleast - rapidly increasing it's apparent speed as matter flashed to energy deep within her armoured hide and fed an epic torrent of wattage to her drives.

Range soon stabilized despite the Abh attempts to close, the distant globe of drones meanwhile illuminated by laser fire as shells closed and counter-measures launched; terminal guidance systems blinded and led astray by jamming and decoys, sand casters using their own velocity against them as refractive particles collided with shattering force, and pulse lasers ship and platform borne ripped waves asunder.

Most shells didn't get within a thousand kilometers, the ship dancing an evasive, relativistic random-walk adding to their woes. And now the first of her static defences was found, quantum skew field ripping many a shell apart, damaging others, and tossing most off course - of those that survived, most recovered their tack; the advantage of guided munitions.

Further in were damper fields - her quantum ratio sink - robbing shells of speed and energies in a constant drain, as weapons took their final opportunity to lessen their numbers, and then they were upon her shield.


Weak things - a compromise that permitted the damper field - each of those few shells to run her gauntlet in full crushed themselves upon it, reduced to plasma, and punched clean through; flash-charge barrier fields reconstituted in full for each shell, they did they job, reducing the impact - a hail of thermokinetic plasma that left shallow, glowing craters all along her thickly wrought armour nevertheless, erasing sensor emplacements and crippling one of her onboard point-defence turrets.



Enemy missiles - so-called 'mines' - would run the same gauntlet, but counter-missiles came first; radically agile reactionless drives boosting dual-purpose warheads, dropping decoys and blinders before closing with as many mines as viable and detonating in a flashbulb of transnuclear fire as their matter-energy conversion bombs let loose, attempting to kill as many each as possible, while simultaneously feeding lasing rods, coherent light spearing out at another hostile mine as the Indie expert systems choreographed a symphony of hellish light and maximised destruction, a few over-powered EMP warheads added to test their effectiveness.


Then came the drone cloud, and the gauntlet within; more agile, they did better than the guided shells that proceeded them, but were still cut down in droves - in the end, a number discouraging to both Abh and Kanuckistani would reach the Indefatigable's shields, forced to detonate there, a full kilometer from the ship's hull.

Energies washed across her flank, damper fields leaching as steeply angled armour helped mitigate the effect, but boiled regardless, and many of those sensors exposed by necessity were reduced to glowing slag; the damage was telling, her armour thinner now across half the ship, but for the moment, atleast, it was still mostly superficial.


King, however, could see the writing on the wall.


"Charge displacers, I want us ready to leave Eh-SAP," the Captain ordered in even tones, eyeing the holotank with a frown as someone sighed aloud, "And put a deca-salvo into one of those pincers before they can reform!"


Ayes sounded as over forty-two hundred missiles leapt away, streaking toward one of the two Abh groups of the failed pincer - King glad he'd soon be able to present them with a steeply angled flank - the missile swarm configured the same as the first such attack, Gunnery officer correcting this time to, hopefully, present the crushing wall of an alpha-strike as he'd first intended.

And this time the targeted Abh were separated, removed from the mutual support of fully half their peers, facing an effective fire density now twice that of before - all told, and with a little luck, CIC expected to inflict four times the damage as their first salvo.

OOC: Was planning on entering battle roughly... now.. However, am unable to do so until Wensdy, around this time... Until then, farewell...

OOC: If I am outside of your FTLi then that changes things slightly for me...

And yes I took your missle salvo into consideration as basically sacrificing smaller ships so my larger and more powerful ones can circle around the chaos and get closer to something a little more prominent. I left your blackjacks unaccounted for as I had no idea what they were doing other than travelling through the void.

IC:

"Your highness, it seems that the enemy is attempting to jam us and we have lost contact with our forward forces."

Gaf'ton stroked his chin ahwile. "Move to third form communication phase. Our ships are far out to swith to communication ships so we have to go with this method. Offset code by three and begin transmitting."

"Yes sir."

Communications and other ship components could possibly be jammed but a last departing message could not be erased from a remote ship. Now that the FTLi had passed beyond the rear lines of the Abh fleet, a bit of reinforcement could arrive as the Rambirds tore through normal space and entered in from Hyperspace flanking Gaf'ton's ship. Each one blacker than the night and dwarfed by every ship surrounding them.

"Sir, Rambirds have arrived and we have reconfigured our forward lights for propers settings."

"Good work. Inform our attack vessels to retreat from the line. Let our Guard ships handle some of the work now should anyone else get too close."

Lights on the bow of the ship began flashing in Morris code out to the attack vessels, singaling them to return to the rear. It took a moment for the code to even be noticed and then deciphered back into Baronh. Then as one, like signals began returning informing all to retreat. One ship however changed its code. One of the Attack vessels was being called out to inform the other two squadrons of the change in communication.

A return flash was ignited and then the lighter vessel shot off into the night, closing the distance to the second fight.

The second front appeared to be taking a turn for the worse as another devastating payload was unleashed on one of the pincers. Missles washed over Abh ships like locust to a field carrying many if not all away. However the commander of the second squad would learn from the attack as she looked on in horror as her brothers went down in flames. A communication shuttle was launched to other ships to inform them of her plan. Mobile mines that were typically used for attack purposes were now being switched over to defense. Mines were launched out into a bubble around the second squad to provide cover from another enemy attack as they sped out faster towards the enemy to try and chase the enemy off.

---------- Let's see....

Roil-class attack vessels - 500 (100 left)

Guard Ships - 100

Frontlineships - 300 (60 mines a ship per volley)

Roth- class Patrolships - 200

Caub- light cruisers - 200

I left your blackjacks unaccounted for as I had no idea what they were doing other than travelling through the void.


OOC:
*rereads*

Huh, must have lost it during the pre-posting edits - I hate it when that happens.

They were supposed to target your heavier ships in the first salvo, while the second would have just been targets of opportunity. The idea, tho, was to present a threat that would shake moral and draw some attention away from the main swarm.


I'll respond ICly once the other active combatants have a chance to post - this is supposed to be a delaying action, afterall, so it wouldn't really do to rush through the whole thing before it did my allies any good, eh? :D

OOC:
*Laughs* Not a problem. Gives me a break to work on other things.

OOC: Still waiting for Xanthal's reaction post to my move. I would request that none of the fleets involved in the Heighliner charge make any major moves until I can 'finish off' the maneuver.

It really is quite critical.

OOC: I've been waiting to let other people post so I could respond to more than just you, Godular, but it's not happening; so I'll Just go ahead and give you something to chew on.

IC: The Xanthalian fleet at Renku turns, disorganized, to target the new threat. Many have to move to get a clear shot, as they've been aiming thus far at the Northrop-Grumman fleet. Some have to move just to clear out of the oncoming behemoth's way. The barrage of fire starts almost immediately, a moment of confusion replaced with a righteous response to the aggressive move by the Heighliner. Xanthalian weapons quickly knock out the enemy's shields, but the thick concrete armor proves far more resiliant. However, the Xanthalian fleet isn't all that stands between it and the planet towards which it is speeding; the fleet from Northrop-Grumman, still cloaked, is also in the path of the oncoming Godulan vessel and its deadly cargo. As it nears the cloaked fleet, many Xanthalian ships are forced to hold their fire to avoid hitting the ships from Northrop-Grumman. A single hokal, sluggish to move, is annihilated by the Heighliner; rammed by the gigantically-proportioned ship and reduced to tiny scraps and a stain on the Godulan hull.

OOC: Sorry for the delay, I've been busy.

Mindsetti fleets B and C, 41 lightyears from Mirfak

Then next day Pr’Varia got his first view of the bridge. Much had changed in the interim four hundred years.

There was no fanfare. He was inside the suffocating small command capsule, nestled snugly between the top observation deck and engineering. He’d forsworn any trips to the accommodation decks; he could count on the loyalty of the senior staff, but he was only just going to discover if his commandeering of Nurik’s fleet would result in bloody mutiny.

He had been warned that they were now very close to the Mirfak system, but for all the long lightyears of the approach there had been no change in the view from the external sensors, bar the very slight increase in the system mass. From this distance, it was impossible to tell if the first fleet had been engaged. The ship Pr’Varia called his command ship was a sleek Sonne MkII – a class of ships that had not existed in his last lifetime – and it was resting briefly in the void between the stars in preparation for the final jump into the Mirfak system. Pr’Varia knew that what he was about to attempt was insanely dangerous; the prospect of jumping blind into a system that recognised his fleet as the “enemy” did nothing to calm his nerves. Political allegiances had shifted drastically, apparently, since Pr’Varia’s reign had come to an end.

He flexed his newly installed artificial muscles, feeling them tighten beneath his semi-synthetic skin. He’d never had implants this extensive – this invasive – but Paula had assured him that should he re-encounter his son, Nurik, he’d also be encountering the most advanced implants the Empire had to offer. His new implants granted him an instantaneous, high-bandwidth connection directly into the AI, bypassing the ship’s clumsy human-designed interface entirely. As such, his mind had virtually bonded with the ship on an instinctive level.

He had barely thought before the ship predicted his wishes and prepped the internal comms system for a fleetwide broadcast. He hesitated briefly, wondering if his return would end as suddenly as it had begun.

“I appeal for your attention, soldiers,” the comm system rang, “for I have most important news. I have taken control of this fleet, and its sister fleet, and intend on returning to the Mirfak system to disable Nurik’s fleet. The senior staff is loyal to me for I am the rightful ruler of the Empire. I am Pr’Varia. I ask you, as your Prime: will you follow me?

Mindsetti fleet A, Mirfak system

Something changed: the shielding of the Battleforge flickered brilliant white, easily outshining the dark maelstrom of war now cluttering near-space. It accelerated smoothly, leaving physics squirming in its wake. When it moved, it did so without any hint of Newtonian reaction. The ship AI ran a simulation, predicting the flight paths of the thousand Xanthallian missiles now arcing through space, their trajectories directed squarely at the exposed underbelly of the mammoth ship. A voidhole opened along the predicted vector of a missile, and a ten-meter fighter emerged. The tear in spacetime silently closed, as simultaneously another opened along another vector. This continued, unabated, until the space separating the Xanthallian fleet and the Battleforge squirmed like a bucket of maggots – with a full thousand Battleforge fighters.

A thousand nuclear explosions filled the void, as the Xanthallian missiles collided with the craft. Neither survived the storm of exotic energy that erupted from the complex subatomic reactions involved. As the expanding halo of debris cooled to a modest sixty thousand degrees Celsius, the Battleforge’s shields returned to their normal translucent, and it opened fire with the super heavy gravitic cannons.

They tore valleys of distorted space in their wake, writhing like a snared animal, chewing their way through everything and anything if it meant escape. But for the micro-singularity the cannons spawned, there was no escape. Not until its thirst was quenched by a stream of matter, which it could then digest and spew out as a burst of secondary gamma radiation.

Meanwhile, crippled by Xanthallian fire, a Sonne experienced a catastrophic sublight engine failure and began to veer dangerously close to a neighbouring McCoy. Unable to stop the slow motion train wreck, the captain ordered immediate evacuation, and hundreds of evacpods jettisoned in time to watch the spectacular fireworks display as their ship collided with the shielding of a McCoy, instantly vaporising both ships.

Amongst the remaining McCoys deftly dodging New Dornalian fire, three more succumbed to directed energy blasts before six hundred voidholes opened, releasing six hundred Battleforge fighters into their midst. They began swarming in and around the enemy vessels, drawing fire, while their larger counterparts continued their game of cat and mouse, using their heavy ion cannons in conjunction with masers to spring the trap.

The Heighliner shuddered beneath the strength of the New Dornalian 'Alpha Strike' Maneuver, even as strange cylindrical 'capsules' of black spheres emerged from the Heighliner's back end, taking positions in the wake of the massive vessel's passing and the breach in the line caused by the Dornalian fleet's own evasive actions.

Such capsules remained as such for but a moment before they seemingly exploded into a veritable firestorm, thousands of Onslaught mines lancing out from each 'capsule' to overtake the enemy fleet at what amounted to point-blank range. This salvo would repeat itself ten times as each 'capsule' emerged from the Heighliner, contributing to what could only be termed a nightmare of Shatterspace anomalies as the Onslaught Fractal Mines swarmed about the enemy fleet, 'expending' themselves.

With each mine 'release', the object maintaining the capsule structure was revealed. A strange affair when it came to appearance, it gave the impression of a crystalline sea urchin. A coat of massive spines surrounded the relatively small sphere seemingly uniformly save for a strange bulge of crystal forming from one spine, energy crackling about the curious crystalline creation.

At least until it rocketed off towards any nearby Dornalian ship with a sparkly puff of electricity. The Shardbolt in each case had to have been larger than a medium sized freighter. And if a hit was scored, the shardbolt would not explode or shatter or even bounce off, it would simply splatter around the vessel's shielding or hull and begin syphoning off energy if the former and layers of matter if the latter. Once one shardbolt left the platform, another began to form behind it.

Such would repeat itself for the Abh fleet as well, with the Heighliner escaping without harm due to the Abh fleet's simple evasive maneuver with no form of counterstrike.

However, in the case of the Xanthalian fleet, the fire against the Heighliner had proven particularly withering. Whether through critical damage or a lucky shot against an as-yet unknown instability point in the thick but unsupported hull of the Heighliner, the whole thing inexplicably burst outwards, scattering massive chunks of concrete and dust into the stellar wind. Of course, for some strange reason the Urchin-things fired on the larger chunks first, each one stopping cold just after being impacted by the massive Shardbolts and becoming swiftly engulfed by the resultant 'splatter'.

The Onslaught mines themselves surged outward through the Xanthalian fleet in the same manner as the other two fleets, save for the fact that extra consideration had to be paid to the cloaked Northrop-Grumman fleet, through which the Onslaught Mines bucked and swerved past in order to reach the other Xanthalian vessels, as if having a nigh-instinctive grasp of exactly where the allied fleet's vessels were positioned.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Guns of Archona are away.

Onslaught Bombardment underway.

Stage two of the insertion contingency is 75% complete.

Estimated Time of Arrival: Thirty seconds.

>>Longer than expected, explanation?<<

Time delay of ten seconds to avoid Kanuckistani inhibitor field.

>>Blasted thing.<<

Unfortunate consequence of Euclidean Cloak.

Cannot Probability Jump like the others, as such we are subject to the same conditions of more primitive means.

Such was accounted for.

Uncertain why you choose now to bitch.

Estimated Time of Arrival: Twenty seconds, preparing to depart Euclidean Cloak. Authorization?

>>Achaedan Swarm authorized to commence Stage Three hostilities.<<

Authorization recognized.

>>Frag until you can't.<<

Bet your ass.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

It had been a mere matter of seconds, already laden as each targeted fleet was with liberal amounts of space-ripping explosions. So it may have come as no small surprise that the Godulans added more icing to the cake.

Following the Analogy, some would accuse the Godulans of having an unhealthy facination with frosting.

There were three of them, emerging from much the same vector as the three Heighliners that passed before. Where the Heighliners had simply appeared seemingly out of nowhere, these three vessels came into existence as if they had emerged wholly intact from some form of Singularity.

These three vessels were large, not nearly as large as the Heighliners that had gone before, but still bloody enormous. Four gigantic 'wings'... or 'blades'... or 'extensions' extended away from a central pillar of light in two pairs on opposite sides, each pair of wings in this case were separated by an angle of no less than fifteen degrees, but for some reason the exact angle appeared to fluctuate somewhat. The material of the wings seemed almost volcanic in nature, taking on the appearance of obsidian with veins of green glowing energy passing through. Four blades of similar material jutted out from each wing around the central pillar of light as if to protect the structure, and several lengthy antenna-like plates rotated around the pillar as if sustaining it.

As each one arrived, small disc-shaped craft, small enough to be compared unfavorably to a TIE fighter, disgorged themselves seemingly from the surface of each massive ship. Thousands of them. Many thousands. Thrusting forward with such speed and ferocity that it didn't seem so much like launching fighters as it did opening fire.

Speaking of which, as soon as the streams of fighters showed any signs whatsoever of slowing down, the massive dreadnoughts DID open fire, unleashing colossal volleys of Shardbolts that detonated upon any impact into dark spheres of pure entropic energy, and pulses of energy specialized to the purpose of knocking out enemy shielding. The sheer amount of firepower lancing out from each of the three massive vessels was enough to cast a sickly green glow on very nearly the entire battlefield...

A single comms burst went out to all three of the affected fleets:

BURN.

OOC: Eh, sorry about the delay. Work and technical problems were plaguing me for the past week but I believe all that is a thing of the past. And this post right here is more like a big “Hey! I’m still here!”

IC: “Where are those damned engines?!” shouted General Harris through the intercom into engineering.

She was quickly tiring of the ridiculous amount of time that it was taking for her crew to repair the ion drives as it was delaying the Northrop-Grumman attack upon the Xanthalians. Sure, she could have ordered the other vessels to attack, but the John Knudsen Northrop would have been a sitting duck, unable to retreat or even attack with the rest of the fleet. But then again, sitting here right now was not any better because the other vessels were beginning to reverse course, leaving the John Knudsen Northrop behind as ordered, now that the Godulan Heighliner was cruising directly towards it.

She tapped her fingers heavily on the armrest of her chair. “C’mon, it’s either now or never.”

A small vibration rattled through the decks of the battlecarrier as the helm officer announced, “General, main engines are back online.”

“Finally!” she replied quickly “Helm, full reverse, now!”

Rumbling was heard as the vessel desperately tried to back out of the way of the Heighliner. Its propulsion systems were not meant to do this much, this fast and were straining under the task that it was ordered to do. Slowly, the John Knudsen Northrop reversed towards the rest of the fleet and out of the way of the giant concrete vessel. But soon the crews realized that the panicking that had been created over the Godulan vessel coming towards them was for naught as the beating that it experienced was too much for its hull. And it broke up just before reaching where the Northrop-Grumman fleet had once been.

The Godulan attack on the Abh fleet was hardly a surprise to the admiral. Such things were expected. However, the fierceness of the Kanuckistan attack had taken a toll and lessened defenses around the rear lines of the Abh fleet as the other squads continued to advance. The single frontlineship that was latched onto by life sucking energy was simply sent at lightspeed to ram the single Heighliner. An anti-matter reactor igniting along with the remnants of its mine load, the explosion would be spectacular.

With the appearance of actual ships from the Godulans this time, action was called for. "Send out the signals to the Gaurd ships. Evasive manuevers. The ship is too close for surround attack. Break off into half sphere formation and keep moving. Signal the Attack vessels and let them deal with the fighters."

Guard ships flared to life with some already being presented a clear shot at the target and opening up with massive energy fire from their anti-proton cannons. Ships unable to fire manuevered above, below, and to the sides of the Godulan dreadnaught. Defense turrets came online and targeted any fighters that got near to keep them at bay.

Attack Vessels broke from the formation and took to the fighters with laser cannons and anti-proton cannons. They broke from their traditional six to a group to flying solo in a confined area and blasting away anything that moved.

"How many Frontlineships are left?"

"Enough to surround them in a field of mines should you so desire Highness."

"Launch volley then send them all into Hyperspace. Get the Rambirds online, there's a job to be done."

Frontlineships launched another volley of anti-matter mines though a bit lessened, still numbering in the thousands, than that of what Kanuckistan saw but the shorter range would make it more effective. Once mines had been emptied, they would simply disappear back into Hyperspace.

"Launch a communication shuttle and send it back to the capital. I want Admiral Wakapale here with a squadron from the Symphonic Fleet."

"Yes sir."

A small light craft darted from the belly of the Sumabilge as it reached the safety of the nearby Mirfak gate and entered planespace to reach the Abh capital.

OOC: Remember the Onslaught Mines and the Guns of Archona...

The Heighliner, now emptied of its Cargo, snapped in two as a result of the surprisingly large hole in its hull. It continued to drift lazily on in its set course, no longer a threat to anyone.

As the Dreadnought and Abh forces closed in on each other, a horrific psychic static began to drift through the closing enemy fleet, afflicting all sentient minds caught in the radius with a distracting and disturbing panopoly of nightmarish sounds from insectoid chittering to the agonized screams of what seemed like thousands of anguished souls and the endless, unnatural, acidic laughter.

The Kython Slaymaster fighters, zigging and zagging throughout the enemy fleet, found themselves the subject of withering counterfire, after all, when one fires into a roiling cloud of fighters approximately forty thousand in number, one would have trouble NOT striking a target. However, despite their size and maneuverability, the diminutive discs proved remarkably durable taking two or three hits each before popping like water balloons... Curiously, whenever a Slaymaster detonated, a momentary feeding frenzy occurred as several other fighters roared through the crackling debris and absorbed it into themselves. With shields weakened by the Kanuckistanis and potentially obliterated by the Onslaught mines, the Kythons turned withering fire right back onto the Abh forces, seeking to bring down more shielding and ensuring the Guns of Archona more firing time.

Which they used with gusto. The Urchin like Weapons Platforms commenced assaults with weaponry dedicated solely to bringing down enemy shielding, focusing concentrated blasts of Shieldbreaker fire on ships that registered as sustaining stronger shielding than others, working to bring such down as swiftly as possible. They also began to drift along with the Abh fleet towards the massive Godulan dreadnought, firing as much as possible at the enemy vessels.

The Dreadnought's shields thundered beneath the counterfire of the Abh fleet but held steady, flashing with brilliant hues and patterns of energy with each impact. As the enemy vessels drew ever nearer, closing in on point-blank, even through the screaming, the dreadnought apparently exploded.

Keyword: Apparently.

The Godulans remembered that the Abh placed a lot of stock on mines as much, if not more than the Godulans themselves. As the Godulan attack was not unfamiliar to the Abh, so too were the Abh not pulling anything new with the Godulans.

So it only appeared at first as though the massive green shockwave of light was the ship going up in a storm of pretty pretty lights and crystalline shards, right up until those shards began shifting to meet enemy vessels in a massive sustained volley of Entropic Shardbolt fire. These bolts were nowhere near as large as the ones used previously, but what they lacked in size they made up for in sheer volume of fire. These bolts provided a very nearly solid wall of explosive crystal between each Abh mine and the dreadnought. Some Abh mines broke through the firestorm, and alert sensors operators would note that each mine partially disintegrated just before detonating and leaving more aesthetically pleasing fractal patterns in the shielding. Each Shardbolt also seemed to swerve slightly toward enemy ships, and while such a thing would barely even register on the shielding of any one ship, there were rather literally millions of Shardbolts being thrown into space by the Dreadnought.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hostilities engaged.

>>Status?<<

We are now, as they say, the Center of Attention. The Abh fleet has apparently decided we are the biggest threat at the moment and the Slaughterstar is taking heavy fire. Indications are that it is every bit as Resilient as we expected it to be.

The entropic shield layer has proven more than adequate for our purposes.

>>What of Guiding Light?<<

The Abh fleet moved too quickly to surround us. We are unable to utilize the weapon against them at this time.

>>Unfortunate. Such was accounted for though.<<

Indeed. The good side of that is they are doing exactly what we expected to do.

>>More mines?<<

Indeed. The individual who devised Shardbolts has our thanks, such a weapon against massed fire and craft proves its worth with every passing moment.

>>We are all a part of this war, as much as you are.<<

Blessed is the wisdom of Legion.

>>Blessed are we as one.<<

OOC: Oh, and for those who have questions, here's general fleet data

General:

30x Red Rain Torpedos (kept out for use in emergencies)

Per enemy fleet targeted:

1x Onslaught Bombardment
10x Guns of Archona
1x Kython Slaughterstar

http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=484858 -- References found here in Military and General Technology sections. OOC Secret infoz of course, but necessary for y'all to gauge what exactly it was I threw at you lot.

OOC: Your onslaught mines and Archona guns hit the rear of my fleet from all that I could gather. Which meant you hit remote Frontlineships destroying many of them. Which is why the mine attack wasn't as bad as what Kanuck faced.

IC:

The psychic attack would prove an annoying to twitch to the Abh as they were tuned in with the ship. However the humans would have a slight problem. Guards quickly supressed them and placed them in quarters where they could be watched and not hurt anyone, especially the ship. Ship functions though would continue the same as Abh were more dependable than humans in these positions. "These Godulans are proving more and more annoying each time we fight them. Jump engines cooled?"

A woman nearby flashed through her blue screen then nodded. "Yes sir. Blue across the board."

"Make them ready."

Guard ships began mixing their energy weapons with their electromagnetic rifles firing cartridges into the Kython swarm with shells accelerating at high speed. Some ships began focusing their main energy weapon on the dreadnought as the spinal cannon fired large gouts of yellow energy forth either encompassing several Kythons at once or breaking through to the ship they protected. Mines were being held back though for the moment as rifles, lasers, and energy poured from the dwindling ships. The formation began to contract around the Godulan dreadnought as the distance closed so that ships would not be easily cut off from the rest and overwhelmed. Some were overloaded fromt he constant fire and exploded in glorious flames. Others took severe damage where much of the crew could not hope to escape and the ship was sent ramming straight for the Godulan vessel.

Attack Vessels whirled and darted in eradict paths avoiding Kython fire and returning it in turn as they began pulling back among the larger Guard ships and towards the rear where Admiral Gaf'ton's ship stood by surrounded by black ships.

"Begin to move our Rambirds up."

"Yes sir."

The black shrouded the flagship as they moved closer but stopped for a out of reach.

"We still have the ship's coordinants locked in?"

"Yes sir."

"Ready the attack on my mark."

OOC: The release was done as the Heighliner passed through the fleet and ended as it left, so there would be a line of penetration through the Abh and Dornalian fleets and a portion of the Xanthalian fleet. The Onslaught bombardment would extend outward from there to take ships at all echelons of the fighting and deal as much damage as possible to everything.

The main reason I wanted to keep the 'affected' fleets from doing anything major in the timeframe of the Heighliner charge beyond responding to the fact that the very large cargo containers were coming at them at extremely high speed. Literally a span of seconds for both Stages 1 and 2 of the insertion.

So it wouldn't be hitting the frontliners only.

So there might be some editing involved, damage more widespread but you'd have more mine flingers... or something. I think we're starting to Confuzzle each other.

OOC: The release was done as the Heighliner passed through the fleet and ended as it left, so there would be a line of penetration through the Abh and Dornalian fleets and a portion of the Xanthalian fleet. The Onslaught bombardment would extend outward from there to take ships at all echelons of the fighting and deal as much damage as possible to everything.

OOC:
That depends on his fleet deployment; if I'm reading this right, the rear grouping was hanging well back to support the two advanced groups that had initially attempted to flank me - if they're still seperated...

OOC: I dunno... did they move overly far in the process or are they still roughly in the same area?

OOC: If I read your posts correctly Godular, your mines wouldn't have been launched until they were past my fleet. First you arrive, I evaded, then you launched after receiving no damage from a counterattack. Those ships may be travelling extremely fast but as you said there would be enough time to avoid them but also a couple of seconds would be enough to put it past my rear fleet. Kanuckistan is also correct as that contigent that is now dealing with you is far away from the other squadrons. Since those ships hadn't moved until now with Frontliners in the back and once your mine attack began, I sent them away except for the one that went straight through your concrete tube.

OOC: I had it set up such that I wanted to know everyone's reactions so I could RP exactly how the release would proceed, but the Heighliner charge was intended as a distraction while it unloaded during its passage through the targeted fleet. It was not intended as an 'after', it was intended as a 'during', hence why I RP'd the Heighliner taking that ram smack after it had fully unloaded, as by the time the Heighliner had moved through it would have unloaded its cargo.

I also mentioned that each Heighliner was targeted on the largest collection of enemy ships for each respective fleet. But its rather difficult to determine fleet concentrations at the moment.

OOC:
Looks like I'm going to be out of town from Wednesday to Sunday, and net access will be improbible at best, so don't wait for me.

On the bright side, given the rate things are going, I won't miss much! :D

OOC: Unfortunatly it didn't read that way and I took it that you had let loose all of your mines before my one ship hit your Heighliners. The only difference we have is that I took it that they were all released behind me.

@Kanuckistan- I doubt you will miss much. Enjoy yourself.

While the Godulan attack continued after the destruction of the Heighliner, the engineering crew of the battlecarrier John Knudsen Northrop was able to recalibrate its ion drives to their full capabilities and would thus be able to execute the plan of attack against the Xanthalians. Slowly, the First Strike Force began to regroup with the Kingmaker battleships leading. Placed in between the behemoths were most of the medium-sized Ancient and Daedalus battlecruisers. Now, the John Knudsen Northrop and the Thomas Jones made up the core of the fleet and were followed by the Yorktown Carriers that were surrounded by the remainder of the battlecruisers that had not been deployed to the front. This fleet, once regrouped, picked up speed as it moved forward.

On the bridge of the John Knudsen Northrop, General Harris carefully examined the tactical display sitting before her, watching the various vessels in her fleet assuming their designated positions. She nodded approvingly at the scene and even grinned a little before she pivoted her chair towards the bridge officer who was monitoring the communications traffic.

“Major Ichitan,” she called out. “Inform the commanders of the carriers that they are to deploy their fighters and bombers but wait until I give them a target.”

“Very well, General.” The major set back to work at his keyboard, typing the information as quickly as possible. He knew that time was essential in such cases.

Meanwhile on the viewscreen, tiny dots began spew forth from the eight carriers, signaling that they were indeed deploying their fighters and bombers. One-by-one each began to spread out away from the carriers, taking up positions to the rear. Seeing that that part of the plan was going smoothly, Harris turned her attention from that side of the screen and looked ahead to what the fleet was approaching.

“Tactical, prepare to lower cloak and fire on my command.”

“Weapons powered and targeted,” the tactical officer announced.

Harris partially rose from her seat and ordered, “Now!”

Shimmering as had happened before when the cloak had engaged, the fleet began to appear, their light grey hulls contrasting the darkness of space. Starting with the seventeen battleships, the attack quickly began. First, with the battleships, their MAC turrets magnetically propelled their high-explosive shells towards the Xanthalian vessels as the Plasma Projector Cannons followed up with their brightly lit beams of plasma. They continued on firing in rapid succession as the battlecruisers joined in with their MACs and PPCs.

--------------------------------------------------------------

At the very front of the strike force, the sleek body of an Ancient-class battlecruiser, the Gasparini, cruised towards its intended targets as it discharged its weapons. Every few seconds, the vessel would shake as its lone MAC turret fired. Aboard this vessel walking alone, Chairwoman roamed the constantly vibrating corridors that remained dimly lit and rather chilled. She often entered the various sections along the way to observe the crew hard at work at their stations. Jotting down what she examined on her datapad, she continued out into the hall, completely unfazed by what was occurring on the outside of the hull. She really didn't care as she felt that no matter what happened, she could just disappear and reappear upon another vessel.

OOC: Xanthal said that his tech level and mine wouldn't be precisely conducive to a decent combat RP. Granted of course the only reason I targeted his forces was because a certain collection of Orcs has not yet shown up, what this does mean is that I now have a second Slaughterstar/Archona collection to fling around. Since Abh is the only one who has yet to otherwise respond to their arrival, I guess I'll lob them in his direction.

Xanthal, just remember, you still have the Onslaught mines to deal with, along with a few Shardbolt salvos. Point defense is effective against the mines but only to a certain extent. The Xanthalian ships on the far side of the N-G fleet would have more time to react but truth be told for the ones on the same side as the initial 'munitions expenditure' attrition should be significant.

And a bit of confusion too, formation breaking and such...

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Northrop-Grumman forces have opened fire on the Xanthalian forces, capitalizing on our actions to initiate their assault.

Abh forces preparing Rambird Assault as we expected. Resistance is heavy.

>>Initiate rededication of forces.<<

Xanthalian Aspect prepare to engage Abh forces.

And us? We are surrounded by Abh forces. They are like leeches.

>>Make them understand.<<

Indeed, initiate Protocol 7.

Acknowledged

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

The massive Slaughterstar charging the Xanthalian forces, and the ten Guns of Archona, rather suddenly vanished from existence, departing as quickly as they arrived. Their destination was easy to see, however, as they rematerialized a short distance away from the other Slaughterstar. The newly arrived dreadnought interspersed the Abh forces surrounding its compatriot between the two and immediately opening up with a horrendous shockwave of focused Shardbolt fire. The additional Guns of Archona also opened up on the enemy forces with concentrated shieldbreaker fire.

The Slaymaster fighters also found their numbers more than doubled by the move, as they were swiftly joined by the compliment sent out by the second dreadnought, adding their firepower to that of the somewhat depleted first forces.

At the same time, in something of a curious move, the first Slaughterstar rather unexpectedly fell apart, shattering into five hundred equally sized chunks of crystal that kept firing at the enemy forces surrounding it. As they floated free of each other, their shapes flexed and twisted until they took on familiar disc forms, ignited great radiant ring-blades of light, and charged forth into one side of the surrounding Abh formation at tremendous velocities.

The Slaughterkings opened fire with waves of shardbolt fire as they went, collectively matching their joined form in strength, and swerved and jinked in an attempt to slice Abh vessels in two while they roared through.

They moved like this until they came to the nearest Gun of Archona, converging upon it like sharks on chum, and as the shift was over as quickly as it had started. The reformed Slaughterstar immediately opened fire not with massed Shardbolt fire, but with massive Charged Shardbolt and Shieldbreaker fire, sending the giant projectiles at the Abh forces alongside the weakening pulses of energy in an attempt to engulf as many ships as possible while the other massive dreadnought maintained its fusillade.

Rend and tear

Abh: The Shieldbreakers are a critical part. I need to know when and how many ships are losing their shielding altogether as it modifies the behavior of the Slaymasters, as well as the nature of the Shardbolts used against them.

The Slaughterkings were beginning to take their tolls on the Roil attack vessels that had already seen enough action from the Kanuckistan attacks. Now shardbolts were eliminating critical lines of defense for them. Light and agile were basically their only saving graces but the loss of a shielding system that would help with shrapnel or laser fire was not a good sign for any of them. Gaf'ton could see that he needed to pull those ships out and immediatly. "Communications, send the signal to the attack vessels. Order them to retreat and have the closest Rambird open a jump gate for them to exit."

"Yes your highness."

Flashes of light along the Sumabilge signaled to them that they were to retreat to the rear. Several had to be left behind as they had taken one too many hits with the shardbolts and rendered many ship functions inoperable. Crews evacuated in small calickes but many commanders left a small gift for the Slaymasters by setting their antimatter reactors to explode. It wasn't a hard job to do really just by simply shutting off gravity control would do the appropriate trick. Many an attack vessel now turned into its own ticking time bomb ready to explode.

Guard ships now had a new challenge with the arrival of a second ship and ten new Guns of Archona satellites. Point defenses had placed their priorities on the Slaymasters with their energy discs while firing their rifles and energy weapons at the satellites. Every now and then a ships would unleash several fusion bombs at a cloud of Slaymasters to by some time or send the missles straight at the dreadnoughts. Ships at along the edges were the ones that were finding themselves losing their shields the fastest since there weren't many ships around them to lend a hand or provide back up. They had to make do with what they could before an energy disc cut through the hull. Some captains opted to abandon ship while others continued firing despite what damage they would take.

"Chief of staff, it's time to bring some Frontliners back in. You know the drill."

"Yes sir."

They indeed would return but not in the conventional sense of lobbing more mines. The two dreadnoughts and Guns of Archona along with any nearby Slaymasters would find themselves surrounded by conflicting gravitational pulls of multiple jump gates forming right on top of the Godulan formation. Each swirling jump gate to Hyperspace was about ten kilometers wide with enough force to pull lighter ships in or simply be destroyed by the tentacles of energy. Normally the manuever was utilized by ships jumping in the middle of the fleet to cause chaos and destroy a few vessles in the attack. Now, with the gates being so close it was hoped that they would suck them into Hyperspace where they would never bother a soul again and drift for the rest of their days or simply be torn apart. Still, the admiral wasn't so confident that that alone would work. Each jump gate had a frontlineship cruising at full speed to ram nearby ships or satellites. Thirty in all were the jump gates and ships.

"Have our Guard ships prepare for a mine attack. I want the enemy burried."

"Yes sir. Sir, we've also received word that our runner has reached Vobeirunei and reinforcements are being gathered."

"Very good. We'll need them to help out the Socialist Republic after losing so many of our vessels."

Unshielded ships rather swiftly found themselves victim to Charged Shardbolt fire, which did not explode into the typical sphere of annihilation but instead splashed around the targeted ship like a kind of crystalline amoeba. As soon as it made contact with the hull, it began disintegrating layer after layer of the ship's material and adding it to itself, happily eating away at the ship whether it was abandoned or not. Slaymaster fighters also turned with hideous rapidity towards any stricken vessels as they had done before, like a shark's feeding frenzy. Such applied even more so to those vessels sliced in half by Slaughterking Light-discs.

The appearance of the surprisingly large number of jumpgates around the Kython formation came as something of a surprise, and as such likely attributed to the completeness of the result.

The Slaughterstars fell apart once again and fell into the sea of jump portals in a stream of disc shapes, as did the Slaymasters, the remaining guns of archona (some of which had at this point met their end through simple attrition, shattering into a small number of Slaymasters and joining their compatriots), and curious enough those vessels being devoured by the Infection Shardbolts.

Within a matter of seconds, the Abh fleet was left alone.

OOC: *whistles innocently*

OOC: So...the only things left are your Slaymasters? I'm trying to decipher this post here so I can actually reply correctly.

OOC: The Slaymasters funneled in as well. If anything, there might be some concern that the Godulan vessels dove into the portals deliberately.

*Whistles Innocently*

The allies have waited long enough. It was time for the Imperial Republic, stretched as it is, to dispense its own brand of violence on those who dare to strike at her allies. The Third Fleet was prepped. Elements of the Seventh and Eighth Fleets would join with it. That would give a grand total of a hundred and change ships.

With the intelligence given by young Ginka, the commanders decided that they would strike first at Mindset and Kanuckistan before facing down any other enemies. Once eliminated, perhaps Godular can be persuaded to leave with the loss of its allies. After all, it wouldn't do to attack a long-standing ally that also owns real estate on Jurai...

The skies over the sleepy planet of Macedonia was filled with the aformentioned fleets that rendzevoused to this position. Commanding this fleet was the hard-nosed Admiral Hector Achilles, ambitious to the core but loyal to the Royal Family. He looked over the manifest, seeing the Order of Battle unfold as follows:

ESD Ankylosaur, the flagship.
Hokage-class Battleships Nidaime and Yondaime*
5 Immortal-class Star Destroyers.
25 Mk II Star Destroyers
15 MC-90 Missile Cruisers
20 Venator Star Destroyers
15 Shinobi-class Battlecruisers**
30 Strike Cruisers
15 Wolfpacks (1 corvette, 5 gunships each)

Numerous fighter squadrons, half inside the Venators, half outside.

25 supply and repair ships, 5 hospital ships. These will stay out of the battle for the mostpart until needed.

The Admiral felt pride in the number and firepower of the ships being thrown at the enemy and without a second to wate, he ordered the entire fleet to make the jump to hyperspace, leaving Macedonia to its peaceful slumber.

*Hokage-class Battleships are 3000 meters long and sport numerous turbolasers and railcannons as well as a spinal mounted Grav-cannon that can shoot asteroids, as well as a cloak for stealth missions. They are the mainstay of the Konoha Fleet also known as the Coredian 8th Fleet.

**Shinobi-class Battlecruisers are about half the size of the Hokages, but are still formidable with turbolasers, railcannons, and missile tubes. They are ships-of-the-line for the Konoha military. They too have powerful shields and cloaks.

OOC: I haven't exactly made stats for these two, but I always make clear what they have in terms of size and weapons.

A sigh of relief echoed as one enemy was dispossed of for the moment. Sensors and scanners came back on line along with the reestablishment of communciation functions. "All trace of the Godulans are now gone. I believe our second front has chased the Kanuckistan ship far enough."

Gaf'ton nodded as he looked over the holodisplay of what remained of the Abh fleet. "Send a communication to all ships, have them form back up and we will have to asses the damage before we can continue. Contact the reinforcement fleet and tell them to stand down."

"What of the Godulan's still stuck in Hyperspace?"

"Without any maps of our jump gates or the proper jump engines, they'll remain in Hyperspace forever and drift endlessly through the gravimetric rifts. I say let them rot."

Patrolships chasing Kanuckistan pivoted completely and fired back towards the main fleet while some ships began repairing the damages inflicted during the battles. Life pods were being rescued at the moment and reports of casualties were finally starting to come in. All ships that could not continue the battle or make the treck to the far off battle were sent back into planespace to return home.

OOC: Remember also that all ships that were being afflicted by 'infectious' shardbolts (I.E. Any that lost their shielding and did not have the capacity to self-destruct) also went into the jump gates.

OOC: Kinda hard to do since the jump gates weren't really all that close to my own ships especially since the vortexs were pointed the wrong way. They were basically just directed at your dreadnoughts and Guns of Archona. You would have had to move my own ships right on top of your own. If that's the case, then they would have most likely been destroyed by the distortion on the plane of regular space. Their hulls can't really hold up to such things.

OOC: Explained on MSN. I'll wait for another post.

OOC: As if I'm not busy enough thumping Kendari. :/

IC:

A cry for help, Gamma fleet had run into logistical problems, the ESUS scrambles to cover the tactical blunder. The Trailarii answer the call with gusto, devoting an entire brood to support the forces attacking Tigerlan.


High orbit, ruins of the Traileric homeworld Trailaria Prime

"The Mindsetti have requested that we devote yet more resources to the war effort? Don't they realise that an entire quarter of our military is already tied up at Salmath? We're going to empty the Collective of fighting men before this undertaking is over, and Trailers needs spears!" Seraphim Mjolnir, Fifth of the Nine slammed twain fists onto the conference table in Sanctuary around which his fellow Lords sat; augmentation servos inside his armor pumped strength into his ancient and frail arms, leaving a dent in the Trailarium alloy.

Calliope, Greatest of Nine, held up a single hand, holy light refracting from intricate runes wrought upon the robes draped over his own battle-armor. "I understand your distress, after all, are you not the one who volunteered your every Archangel to Salmath? Worried that we shall draw upon your personal guard I imagine. It shall not come to that, a single brood shall do. One of my own, in fact, Padriel, his Colossi is en-route to the crisis as we speak. We must respect the Mindsettan orders, after all they are our superiors, amongst the ESUS hierarchy at any rate. I do worry about the defense of this system if we are left with only sixteen broods. You are right, Trailers needs spears. However would you prefer a front to collapse due to us failing to respond?"

The other eight Seraphim nodded sagely, a few of them glancing warily at Mjolnir. As the Seraphim of War he had always been rather feisty, challenging Calliope whenever and wherever he saw fit. The Greatest was a patient individual, he must be or the Nine would quickly become the Eight. Mjolnir knew when he was outnumbered, and backed down, his eye drawn to a databurst from Salmath as his Archangels drove their Colossi foreward into the flanks of some Orkish fleet or other.

As this happened, Padriel awakened within his control trunk, momentarily bewildered by the sudden flare of conciousness. His Colossi had been been docked for refitting in the bowels of Twinfires Repair and Control Station. Now, his warship was being yanked out under Seraphim priority orders, something he didn't expect. His eyes flared abit as he realised he was being shipped out, apparently his legions had gathered without him even being awoken.

OOC: Sorry, I can't finish now, and I can't save it, so, will edit later.

OOC: There's far too much OOC chatter in this thread. We should create a seperate OOC thread to keep it clean. I can't make another post until ND/Xanthal/Coreworlds attack me again/take losses.

Direct further OOC Chatter here:

http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=495701- Striking The Enemy OOC Thread

-snip-


Kantazakis' fleet was in trouble, major trouble. The rush of Onslaught mines, for all the Gauss Minigun fire thrown at them, was still troubling, and the Potemkin and the Law, along with all vessels, suffered major hits. Many of the Deng Xiaopings bit the dust, as did several of the Lin Biaos and one Mao Zedong. Temporal Shielding held everywhere, but the violence of the attack did damage all over, and the horror was felt, as the sheer force of the explosions threatened to overwhelm the Drama Casseroles and the bigger ships.

The Mindsetti moves didn't help either. Thus, the New Dornalians reconsolidated their lines as fast as possible, keeping loose but moving back into a discernible formation. In the meantime, they deployed Guass Minigun spreads to combat Mindsetti and Godulan fighters, and all elements in formation deployed long distance fire from Demolisher Guns to attack the McCoys, leading their shots and aiming as carefully as possible, to avoid excess destruction. To the Godulans, they decided to punish the blasphemers and the betrayers, and fired a volley of 10 Ion Torpedoes and 3 Singularity Torpedoes at the SlaughterStar, along with 350 conventional torpedoes in a massed volley and many more Demolisher Gun shots, all at the SlaughterStar.

Meanwhile, the forward elements attacking the Mindsettis (OOC: I knew I had fighters and mobile suits going after your vessels, and tons of fire you seemed to missed) continued their attack....but instead, they shifted their efforts to attacking the Godulan fighters that emerged to challenge them.

The SlaughterStar exploded into hundreds of fragments under the onslaught of the Demolisher guns, shattering like glass in a brilliant display of light and brilliance. The only oddity to this occurrence was that none of the Torpedos fired at it had even made the halfway point to it yet. The curious thing about the shattering itself was that until it actually happened, all that the Demolisher guns were doing was causing significant ripples amongst the dreadnought's prodigious shielding.

Of course, the myriad fragments of the Slaughterstar's form almost immediately shifted into the familiar disk shape of Kython Slaughterkings and scattered like roaches in the face of the Torpedo assault, forcing the targeting computers to switch from one extremely large target to no less than five hundred smaller ones. Each of these vessels opened up with Shardbolt fusillades to intercept the torpedos as they came, slamming the Torpedos into a veritable wall of Shardbolt fire. Several Slaughterkings fell under the Dornalian counterfire, taking Demolisher gun shots and the occasional lucky torpedo and shattering like glass in its own right, several individual chunks occasionally forming into Slaymaster fighters and roaring off to challenge the Dornalians up close with their literal swarms of brethren. The only exception to this was the lone Slaughterstar that caught the lone Singularity torpedo that managed to make it through the Shardbolt salvos. It just got sucked into nothing.

The rest of the Slaughterkings swarmed about for a moment, bucking and weaving and leveling tremendous amounts of firepower back at the Dornalians, then rocketed towards one of the Guns of Archona. Up to that point, the weapon platform had been adding its own voice to the conflagration being dealt upon the Dornalian forces. Now, though, it was the centerpiece as the Slaughterstar reformed, using the Gun of Archona's own material to replenish what was lost in the scattering to restore the massive Dreadnought effectively none the worse for wear.

In another example of Godulan irregularity, all nine of the remaining Guns of Archona swiveled about to orient themselves toward the massive dreadnought, suddenly unleashing a massive surge of energy onto the crystalline monstrosity. The Shielding rippled under this impact, but the Slaughterstar itself flared with energy, as if the weapons platforms were not attacking, but feeding the primary vessel. The reason for this curious quirk soon became clear when the Dreadnought manifested an array of larger shardbolts that did not glow the typical sickly green as normal or even the dark veined green of Entropic Shardbolts. These shardbolts were pure black, and were fired as quickly as they formed.

The Slaymaster fighters, harried by point defense and randomized other points of attrition but still overpowering the enemy defenses by sheer force of numbers, bolted away from the Dornalian fleet very literally as one, roaring away just as the Slaughterstar opened fire.

The Shardbolts pulsed towards specific vessels in the fleet at awesome velocities, then detonated even before they reached the edge of the Dornalian fleet. At each detonation, the shardbolt transferred itself into fueling a crackling singularity that continued on the course it was originally directed, flying into the fleet to suck into nothing all that was unfortunate enough to find itself in the singularity's path.

In all, twenty of these Shardbolts were fired. Accompanying this particular brand of death were two messages, one sent to the Dornalian fleet, and the other sent to the Coredian fleet.

To the New Dornalians:

You may thank the Coredians for this. Their singularity technology has proven most engaging to transfer into Kythonized Form.

We are sorry that you must experience such. It is not our wish that you should feel the bite of the Kython Scourge this day. There is such pain in war, though if such is required to ensure surrender and ultimate cessation of hostilities, then we gladly join the melee.

~ Avatar of the Swarm 'Achaedus'

To the Coredians:

Death and Destruction! Had you stayed away you would not have been exposed! You have come into this fight to protect your ally as we sought to protect you. Had they simply surrendered, the Xanthalians and those who seek to defend would not have suffered so! Had they simply surrendered you would not be here. We blame the defenders for bringing you into this.

~ Avatar of the Swarm 'Achaedus'

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Meanwhilst, in Torq space, somewhat removed from the battle, the Balroggan fleet chattered with their Godulan counterparts, psionic messages that could be picked up by any psions in the general area but would register solely as an insane chittering and screaming more intense than the death scream that had up until a few minutes ago been inflicting itself upon the Abh forces.

G-STRAIN AVATAR ACHAEDUS: They sought to do THAT to us. We express liberal amounts of mirthful schadenfreude at what is yet to befall them! Blessed be the wisdom and foresight of Legion that our enemies should seek to destroy and hinder using the very things that give us strength.

B-STRAIN COMMANDER N'RAHJ: HA—You’d figure they would have done some sort of research into their enemies. I bet they don’t even know themselves. Shall we take them brother? Together we shall overcome their defense and turn their own ships against their will.

G-STRAIN AVATAR ACHAEDUS: Such does indeed sound like a plan. There is much swirling and color here, providing us endless amounts of amusement beyond even what that blazingly dull Hyperspace provided, but we are certainly eager to repay the enemy their condescension. We shall engage a pincer move. Above and below. Singularity salvos, then Shieldbreakers until they're helpless. You are, as always, welcome to add your voice of wrath to ours.

B-STRAIN COMMANDER N'RAHJ: We shall prevent them from engaging their hyperspace gates again, and we shall let neither ship nor signal escape the inevitable.

G-STRAIN AVATAR ACHAEDUS: They have psions. Worthy in strength but flawed nonetheless. Perhaps it would be amusing if we conduct a combined assault on their upper echelons? Our death screaming weakens them somewhat, they will be vulnerable to your attacks. We are prepared, however, to amplify the strength of the screaming and possibly even engage in some possessions...

B-STRAIN COMMANDER N'RAHJ: Yes. I would enjoy such a diversion.

G-STRAIN AVATAR ACHAEDUS: Well then! Allow us to invite you to join us as we re-engage in five... four... three... two... one... KILLLLLLLLLLLL...

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

As the Abh fleet worked to reassemble after what they thought to be the sudden and oddly anti-climactic conclusion of their combat with the Godulan Kythons, the Slaughterstars rather abruptly reappeared. These Dreadnoughts, accompanied by the remaining of their Guns of Archona, and also a few new Slaughterking Destroyers newly bearing nameplates of what previously existed as Abh ships, already bore arrays of pure-black Singularity Shardbolts, having used the unmolested time to charge up for a more amusing assault against the Abh forces.

The Slaughterstars unleashed all of their Singularity-Shardbolts at once, allowing forty of the massive shells to surge towards the enemy formation before detonating and continuing on through the enemy fleet to consign the Abh forces to gravitonic oblivion.

As soon as the massive Shardbolts left, however, the Slaymaster fighters, somewhat replenished from their previous attrition, once again streamed forth from the massive Dreadnoughts, this time accompanied by the Abh-Slaughterkings which immediately ignited their light discs and charged in as if they had always been a part of the Kython swarm.

And all around the Abh forces, Balroggan vessels started springing into being, opening up in their own inimical ways.

The screaming came back, far stronger than before, and now, it would start surging here and there, working to overwhelm the more psionically active members of the Abh personnel. A single message went out to the Abh forces:

You did not think it would be THAT easy, did you? We thank you for the momentary respite. It allowed us to recharge and finish off incorporating what used to be your vessels. Do you recognize them? We kept their nameplates intact...

The Abh forces now faced BOTH Kython strains...

As the ebon torpedo frigates faded into Real Space, the sensors of the enemy immediately began to alarm as they registered the mass of a small star and power levels that would most likely be near the end of their scales. Over a dozen of these frigates faded into Existence as they Emerged from T-Space. They immediately opened up with their full salvos of Grav Torps. Eighteen torpedoes left their berths on each ship and as soon as they cleared them, the Grav Torps activated. The area immediately in front of the projectile began to glow with a green light until the point collapsed into a full fledged singularity about two meters across. The black maw was projected about five meters in front of the actual torpedo body, the farthest it could be and still divert and devour most conventional anti-missile defenses.

The frigates fired upon the Abh fleet from every direction as well as both above and below. The torps shot away from the ship and then spread out, taking direct paths ignoring all the anti-missile defenses counting on their protection from the “shadows” of the singularity escorting them through the Ahb ships. They would turn once they travel the target path and attempt to pass through the ships again until their fuel runs out at which time they would stop projecting the singularity and fly into it, destroying both the torp and it’s singularity.

The signatures of the 198 singularities would help cloak the arrival of the main fleet.

Destroyers, Frigates, Cruisers, Battleships, and Carriers formed out of nothingness as they made the transition from the 7th Dimension back into the STC, or Real Space. After firing their salvo, the Torpedo Frigates’ hulls began to bubble and boil, and then simply fell apart as the ships unassembled into a swarm of ebon death. The cloud of roughly human sized Kythons began to circle the battlefield much like vultures or hyenas waiting for the torps to run their course, waiting for their turn at the prey.

From within the capital ships, the Ta’Nar and Childer began to gather into a Gestalt, adding their significant power into a much greater whole. As their minds merged and their power was amplified, they began a single scream. The “sound” was broadcast through the Kythons and the single scream was amplified into a cacophony of thousands of screams, a thundering wall of mind numbing psi energy designed to debilitate the victims unlucky to experience the attack. The Kythons added their own natural Death Scream to the crescendo and directed it into the the Abh fleet as they tried to take actions against the torp barrage.


*Please note there is additional info in the OOC Thread*

The SlaughterStar exploded into hundreds of fragments under the onslaught of the Demolisher guns, shattering like glass in a brilliant display of light and brilliance. The only oddity to this occurrence was that none of the Torpedos fired at it had even made the halfway point to it yet. The curious thing about the shattering itself was that until it actually happened, all that the Demolisher guns were doing was causing significant ripples amongst the dreadnought's prodigious shielding.

Of course, the myriad fragments of the Slaughterstar's form almost immediately shifted into the familiar disk shape of Kython Slaughterkings and scattered like roaches in the face of the Torpedo assault, forcing the targeting computers to switch from one extremely large target to no less than five hundred smaller ones. Each of these vessels opened up with Shardbolt fusillades to intercept the torpedos as they came, slamming the Torpedos into a veritable wall of Shardbolt fire. Several Slaughterkings fell under the Dornalian counterfire, taking Demolisher gun shots and the occasional lucky torpedo and shattering like glass in its own right, several individual chunks occasionally forming into Slaymaster fighters and roaring off to challenge the Dornalians up close with their literal swarms of brethren. The only exception to this was the lone Slaughterstar that caught the lone Singularity torpedo that managed to make it through the Shardbolt salvos. It just got sucked into nothing.

The rest of the Slaughterkings swarmed about for a moment, bucking and weaving and leveling tremendous amounts of firepower back at the Dornalians, then rocketed towards one of the Guns of Archona. Up to that point, the weapon platform had been adding its own voice to the conflagration being dealt upon the Dornalian forces. Now, though, it was the centerpiece as the Slaughterstar reformed, using the Gun of Archona's own material to replenish what was lost in the scattering to restore the massive Dreadnought effectively none the worse for wear.

In another example of Godulan irregularity, all nine of the remaining Guns of Archona swiveled about to orient themselves toward the massive dreadnought, suddenly unleashing a massive surge of energy onto the crystalline monstrosity. The Shielding rippled under this impact, but the Slaughterstar itself flared with energy, as if the weapons platforms were not attacking, but feeding the primary vessel. The reason for this curious quirk soon became clear when the Dreadnought manifested an array of larger shardbolts that did not glow the typical sickly green as normal or even the dark veined green of Entropic Shardbolts. These shardbolts were pure black, and were fired as quickly as they formed.

The Slaymaster fighters, harried by point defense and randomized other points of attrition but still overpowering the enemy defenses by sheer force of numbers, bolted away from the Dornalian fleet very literally as one, roaring away just as the Slaughterstar opened fire.

The Shardbolts pulsed towards specific vessels in the fleet at awesome velocities, then detonated even before they reached the edge of the Dornalian fleet. At each detonation, the shardbolt transferred itself into fueling a crackling singularity that continued on the course it was originally directed, flying into the fleet to suck into nothing all that was unfortunate enough to find itself in the singularity's path.



Kantazakis talked to the Political Officer for a moment, and then replied to the Swarm Avatar's Message, in an angry tone:

"Comrades--or those who were once comrades--despite your kind words, the fact is you have betrayed us. Such subversion the Workers and Peasants would only expect from mere sellers of crack cocaine. But not from the Godulan people.

Your kind words, while appreciated, do nothing to satiate our anger.

You are no longer considered sentient. Your forces, for the Crime of premeditated attempted murder, are now considered an Enemy of the People. And Enemies of the People are punished by death."

Kantazakis' brave words concealed a small streak of amazement and fear at the reformation of the SlaughterStar, and the sudden evasive manuevers he had to perform once again (at full speed), along with the quick powering up of shields and armor, to absorb the hits dealt. A few more Dengs fell down, and the Drama Casseroles and the bigger ships were being rocked more and more, though this time, they moved to escape by the skin of their teeth.

He could only pray and figure it out, the solution. Those Guns of Archona were obviously overcharging the foe, which had gotten technology from the Coredians. Kantazakis' first reaction was disbelief, but he excused it as a pre-betrayal acquistion (OOC: The New Dornalians don't know of what the Abh and Coredians know, in terms of the true nature of Godulan actions.). His second was to begin consolidating lines, charging the Super Warp Cannons, ordering the nanite healing drones to begin repairs at max speed (they would go slowly, but steadily), and then he ordered all vessels to mass four more rapid Demolisher Gun and Ion Cannon volleys at the Guns of Archona from all vessels, the Ion Cannons going first, the Demolisher Guns going second.

The New Dornalians soon began to experience it, same as the Abh did. A sound in the minds of every Dornalian seeming as a cross between an insane chittering and thousands of voices screaming in agony. Doubled now in strength due to the arrival of the Balroggan forces and the resultant mental bolstering, it came in waves of psionic terror...

And where were YOU? Where were you when we needed assistance? Where were you when the most innocent of our worlds was ruthlessly rent asunder? Where were YOU? We wished for assistance but only a few came... the CHRONOSIANS gave us aid, but you did not! You call us traitors, but you have no right to offer such labels...

Cowards.

STILL we feel sorrow at the notion of laying your forces waste. STILL we mourn the passing of each life. STILL we regret this destruction. That we see you as an abomination yet feel pain for your elimination...

We care not for your opinion of sentience. You condescend to consider yourselves above us, when our tragedies have allowed us to evolve, to expand, to improve. I am LEGION, we are one, and not even death will stop us now.

A second salvo of Singularity Shardbolts launched out towards the Dornalian fleet, following which the Kython Slaymasters returned in force. The fighters swirled and darted like a swarm of angry bees, launching coordinated strikes on enemy ships and actually latching onto any vessels that had lost their shielding. Those that achieved the latter scrambled about on the ship, ripping off weapons emplacements and bulkheads with their monofilament legs.

Then the Slaughterstar exploded into smaller pieces again, each of the Slaughterking destroyers this time igniting their Lightdiscs and charging in to point blank range with the Dornalians, opening fire with Shieldbreaker weapons, storms of shardbolt fire, and slicing into enemy vessels with the blazing discs of pure energy. These jinked and weaved with almost as much maneuverability as the Slaymaster Fighters, and despite the overall confusion of the roiling mass of Kython devastation, not one Slaughterking or Slaymaster collided with each other. A metaconcert of astrobatic insanity...

The Guns of Archona opened up with massive charged Shardbolt volleys on the Dornalians as well, even as they themselves came under assault. The fire slackened as the Slaughterkings roared into the Dornalian fleet, but all of the Weapons platforms suffered significant shield drain from the initial assault, two of them in fact shattering under the attack. Several of the larger chunks fell together into Slaughterkings themselves, and swiftly moved to join the melee...

Then the Slaughterstar exploded into smaller pieces again, each of the Slaughterking destroyers this time igniting their Lightdiscs and charging in to point blank range with the Dornalians, opening fire with Shieldbreaker weapons, storms of shardbolt fire, and slicing into enemy vessels with the blazing discs of pure energy. These jinked and weaved with almost as much maneuverability as the Slaymaster Fighters, and despite the overall confusion of the roiling mass of Kython devastation, not one Slaughterking or Slaymaster collided with each other. A metaconcert of astrobatic insanity...

The Guns of Archona opened up with massive charged Shardbolt volleys on the Dornalians as well, even as they themselves came under assault. The fire slackened as the Slaughterkings roared into the Dornalian fleet, but all of the Weapons platforms suffered significant shield drain from the initial assault, two of them in fact shattering under the attack. Several of the larger chunks fell together into Slaughterkings themselves, and swiftly moved to join the melee...

Kantazakis grit his teeth and tried to resist the screeching; the man had a point, the Godulans had an emergency New Dornalia never responded to. He was surprised they still felt sorry for him.

All over, People's Acolytes tried to use the Force to project happy thoughts, rock music, anything that could drown out the screams and psychic torment. Some men began going mad, others tried to fight back. The ships still took hits even as the crew was psychically attacked, though two Lin Biaos and one Mao died, the rest seemed to not fail still, large amounts of energy being routed to shields to hold them tight by those commanders and crewmen with sense left. However, the rumblings and rockings produced damage still, and nanites and engineering crews with sense left tried to fix things.

All the while, the Gracie Unit in charge of the Battlestar Potemkin and the others, seeing their masters in pain and judging them to be out of commission for the moment, enacted evasive manuevers and spread out once more at high speed.

They then dumped four more rapid volleys of Demolisher Gun fire at the guns of Archona, along with a spread of 150 torpedoes (half antimatter, half singularity), the antimatter ones flying at the Guns, manuevering around the enemy and detonating near them via remote detonators, following them with the singularity torpedoes, which were detonated in the same manner. To combat the fighters, ND fighters and mobile suits, Gauss Miniguns, and few torpedoes shot out and remotely detonated were used to try and fight them. And, just to add the icing on, the Super Warp Cannons were unleashed, fired at the Guns of Archona to deliver a violent finish.

It was time.

A hyperspace exit window opened up in a flash of blueshifted light and the Third Fleet moved into formation right on top of their first target: Mindset.

"All right! Execute Corkscrew Formation. Let's give the enemy a taste of who we are!" Admiral Achilles ordered as warning klaxons and PA systems blared. "Lead elements, salvo fire!"

In layman's term, the Corkscrew Formation is when a fleet splits in two and swirls around an enemy, moving and firing as they surround the foe. As the fleet split in two parts and started moving parallel around the Mindsetti in a move that could basically be described as enveloping, the fleet let loose with thousands upon thousands of turbolasers, beamlasers (Think LAAT lasers, but much larger and more powerful), ion cannons, rail slugs from the Shinobi and Hokage ships and antiship missiles from the Missile Cruisers. Special weapons are kept in reserve for the moment. Now the ball was in the enemy's court...

OOC ANNOUNCEMENT: Jordaxia has until the 23rd to resume regular posting or withdraw from the RP. If neither has happened by that time, Jordaxia's role in this thread will be terminated.

OOC:

Since nobody is replying to any of my other War Posts, I will expand my attacks here...


IC:



T-Space, Command Carrier of the Fleet:


“Admiral, the Mindset fleet is being attacked.”

“Who is it?”

“According to the transponder information it appears to be a Core World fleet. They seem to be splitting in half and trying to surround the Mindset fleet.”

“Send in the Omega Battlegroup. Instruct them to unload all Grav Torps and then disassemble into the Swarm and follow the torps into the CW Fleet. Use the singularities to mask our ships disappearing and to hide the true assault force, the Kythons.”

"Also Sir, New Dornalia is attacking our brethren.”

“Send in Epsilon and Delta to help dispose of their interference. I want conversion of their main weapons. Target their command ship with the Slugs.”

“Yes Sir.”

“Hold back Alpha through Gamma for reinforcements. Relay orders.”

“Relaying orders Sir.”



Near Core Worlds Fleet:


Shortly several rips in reality formed and over a dozen ships Emerged from T-Space above the CW Fleet. Sensors would scream as the ships Emerged, each bearing the mass signature of a small star. Then the torps launched. They fired all their Torps at the enemy maneuvering below. The 266 Torps began to generate an emerald glow as the singularities formed in front of them. Hundreds of gravity wells formed, creating a massive sensor distortion above them. The individual torps locked onto their targets and began to close faster as the singularities changed from emerald to light absorbing ebon death. The body of the torpedo safely hid behind the singularity projected ahead of them, which hungrily devoured all conventional anti-missile defenses thrown at them. The torpedoes ignored evasive maneuvering, instead trusted their proceeding singularity to protect them from flank attacks that would easily strike and possibly destroy them. If you don’t expose them and fly straight at your target, you will not be intercepted. The logic was simple and as they neared, the torps would attempt to dive multiple times through the target vessel leaving a hole devoured through the ship and turn to pass through again, hopefully leaving Swiss cheese in their wake. Once the fuel was used up, they would allow themselves to be devoured by the singularity they projected, destroying both in a spectacular and blinding release of energy.

Behind the theoretically impenetrable blanket of singularities, the ships fell to pieces, leaving a cloud of three-meter ebon objects that followed their screen down to their targets. As the nightmare of ravenous black holes detonated the true threat would be found to be right behind them. The Kythons…



Near New Dornalia Fleet:


Reality again tore as the two battle groups Emerged from T-Space below the New Dornalia fleet. The massive Gravity Catapults began to fire their slugs into the command ship of the enemy forces, as well as any other ship utilizing super weapons. Multiple Ion Cannons shots designed to weaken the shielding of the vessels to allow the fast moving slugs of Thur’Tahg to strike the ships unimpeded accompanied the Thur’Tahg slugs.

As the slugs penetrated the shields, they would fragment and scatter within the ship, imbedding fragments of Thur’Tahg randomly within the target area.

The frigates unassembled into swarms of Kythons and swarmed the defenses of the ships. They either attempted to make contact with the hulls, leaving black marks that began to spread, or they would use their purple Dimensional blades to slice the ships into fragments. They would swarm a particular vessel until there were multiple black spots and then switch to another, groups of dozens to a ship.

The Cruisers and Destroyers used their purple Cutter Beams to slice shield generators and engine cores off the ships. The Cutters, just a carrier beam no powerful than a typical laser pointer would contain dimensional fluctuations that would affect anything breaking the containment beam, such as shielding or hulls of ships, as well as people, moonlets, or the proverbial kitchen sink. After Engines and Shields, they would go after bridges and even attempt to fillet the ship from one end to the other leaving two halves floating in the void of space.

Near Core Worlds Fleet:


Shortly several rips in reality formed and over a dozen ships Emerged from T-Space above the CW Fleet. Sensors would scream as the ships Emerged, each bearing the mass signature of a small star. Then the torps launched. They fired all their Torps at the enemy maneuvering below. The 266 Torps began to generate an emerald glow as the singularities formed in front of them. Hundreds of gravity wells formed, creating a massive sensor distortion above them. The individual torps locked onto their targets and began to close faster as the singularities changed from emerald to light absorbing ebon death. The body of the torpedo safely hid behind the singularity projected ahead of them, which hungrily devoured all conventional anti-missile defenses thrown at them. The torpedoes ignored evasive maneuvering, instead trusted their proceeding singularity to protect them from flank attacks that would easily strike and possibly destroy them. If you don’t expose them and fly straight at your target, you will not be intercepted. The logic was simple and as they neared, the torps would attempt to dive multiple times through the target vessel leaving a hole devoured through the ship and turn to pass through again, hopefully leaving Swiss cheese in their wake. Once the fuel was used up, they would allow themselves to be devoured by the singularity they projected, destroying both in a spectacular and blinding release of energy.

Behind the theoretically impenetrable blanket of singularities, the ships fell to pieces, leaving a cloud of three-meter ebon objects that followed their screen down to their targets. As the nightmare of ravenous black holes detonated the true threat would be found to be right behind them. The Kythons…
Alarms suddenly blared as the space above the Coredian fleet began filling with mass-signatures the size of medium stars...or really really big Interdictor Cruisers. Then more alarms blared as some of the mass tried to divide by zero and drew closer, denoting only one possible reason. Singularities. And not the home-grown type.

"Sir! We've got incoming! Massive gravity signatures, possible singularities!" A sensor officer screamed aboard the Ankylosaur.

"What?! Which vector?" Admiral Achilles spat.

The poor lad checked and double-checked the screens. "Above us! I count at least a hundred signatures, but the sensors are being screwed up!"

"Shit." Hector cursed. Singularities were devastating enough. He knew that from personal experience. And singularities sucking away his fleet will be extremely bad news unless....

"All missile ships! Launch singularity vollies One through Five! Screen mode!" It was a horrible gamble and the Admiral knew it. But if they could fight fire with fire, maybe the casualty count would be lessened...

A swarm of torpedoes launched from the Missile Cruisers, the Mark III Star Destroyers, the Hokage battleships and the Ankylosaur herself. If anyone would bother to check, it would be about two hundred sixty six torps streaming towards a desperate conclusion, half the singularity arsenal of the Third Fleet. A hundred and fifty against one hundred and ninety eight. The death count would be nasty, but hopefully not as intense as before.

The torpedoes put out heavy ECM to help fool sensors, producing bunshin torpedoes that would do nothing but present inviting empty space to others' sensors. Then as they neared their targets at nearly the speed of light, the small gravity well generators inside the warheads of each torpedo deliberately overloaded, producing hungry black holes ready to eat matter and energy, trusting their own frictionless momentum to continue on the path they were set until they too vanished in blasts of pure radiation. With all this space being torn and twisted like silly putty, it's a wonder the continuum didn't collapse already...

“Sir, it is difficult to pick up through the sensor distortion but I believe the Coreworld fleet has launched something. We are picking up traces of multiple launches but it is difficult to determine exactly what through the distortion caused by more than 250 active Grav Torps.”

“Continuing holding the Swarm back until the Falling Star Maneuver is completed. I want to know what exactly is going on down there.”

“Yes Sir.”

Far below the Intruder Carrier hundreds of “stars” descended upon the ring of Coreworld ships. A hundred-fifty missiles shot upward from their launchers in the CW fleet and activated their own singularities.

Massive distortions swept through the system as singularities merged and canceled each other apart. The gravitational energies unleashed reached out and drew some torpedoes near them, dragging the miniature black holes they were projecting along with them into destruction. The visible distortions caused the background star field to stretch and distort as it was viewed through a bubbling gravity lens. Those prone to motion sickness would find their stomachs doing flips as reality seemed to whorl around them.

Sensor readings were overcome by the waves of distortion sweeping outward from over 150 singularity mergers, a ring of total interruption of sensor data. The ripple in reality spread outwards in a bubble certain to make some primitive civilizations that encounters it centuries from now wonder “WTF!” as it washes through their distant system.

Aboard the Imperial Fleet above the dancing and writhing gravity lens (a safe distance I might add from both fleets) small objects were moved as the artificial gravity of the carrier was overwhelmed by the massive display below. Some were thrown against the ceiling while others were held mysteriously against walls as if it were the floor. Gravity was having a happy time at the playground today.

“Commander!”

“Go ahead.’

“Our sensors are completely offline.”

“Even Dimensional?”

“Yes, the distortion even affected them. We are completely blind.”

“Get them back online. I want them functional immediately.”

“Sir, they are functional. The distortions are causing them not to function. As soon as they are done, the sensors will function again.”

“Did any make it through?”

“Unknown at this time. I cannot tell even where the Swarm is until the sensors return.”

“Be sure to document everything so we can figure a way to retain sensors in the event this happens again.”

“Yes Sir”

The swarm happily traveled the waves of gravity much the same way a surfer would navigate their ultimate dream wave. The swarms easily made it through the distortions with their self contained internal gravimetric drives. In fact, they loved the way the waves felt and took the time to play in the distortions while they were waiting for the singularities below to end. They could easily see through the distortions and noted some torps made it through. Soon it would be time to get to work.

Far below, 84 Grav Torps managed to make it through the unnatural interference and continue towards their targets.

"Agh!" Crew and equipment shoved around as the gravity wells consumed each other in merry abandonment.

"Sir, sensors have gone blind! Trying to recalibrate..." The sensor officer aboard Ankylosaur shouted.

"Go to visual scanners!" The Admiral ordered. "They won't be affected!"

Of course, the Admiral didn't exactly count on the light-bending effects of the huge gravity lens, but the visuals were revealed enough to note that enemy torpedoes were still incoming.

The fighters and point-defense cannons burst to life, shooting at the incoming torpedoes. Unfortunately, some of the coherent energy was drawn into the maws until one lucky fighter managed to find a weakness, shooting the side of a torpedo to destroy it. He reported the weakness to the others and a mad scramble to kill the torpedoes before they reached the fleet began.

And they still struck despite everything. Ten small ships were destroyed outright by the singularities, warped out of existence with all hands. Three Star Destroyers were also pockmarked and would have to be scuttled, their surviving crew frantically racing to escape pods. Another two suddenly sported holes in their hulls and were it not for the efforts of the AI systems spreading structural integrity fields over the holes, atmosphere would have been lost. As it is, several hundred crew lost their lives from the two ships.

And then came a second wave of enemy forces: the Kythons...

As the last of the Grav Torps found their mark and the Falling Star Maneuver came to a close, the real reason for the singularity attack became apparent to those unfortunate enough to be upon the ships first targeted.

Swarms of black ebony death came at the ships out of the blanket of distortions behind them. Their nearly invisible forms, almost completely hidden by the distortions of the multiple gravity lenses, came at the intruders with a ruthless vengeance unfelt before. The first who suffered in the attack were the fighters that attempted to shoot the Grav Torps. Proximity alarms signaled their arrival, then sounds on the hulls of the fighters, and finally the sound of the fighter being ripped to pieces from around the pilot. Oxygen vented into the void as purple energy blades sliced through the tough armor with the ease of the proverbial hot knife through melted butter. Canopies shattered into neatly bisected segments to be pushed away from the fighter by the escape of the cockpit atmosphere. One pilot noticed something was amiss when an alarm sounded on a panel and he noticed his wings drifting by the window before the fighter was disassembled from around him. The last thing he saw was an eyeless reptilian head before arms broke through his window.

Blackened debris was left behind as the swarm settled down to the capital ships. They broke off into groups of a dozen and attacked weapon placements, engines, doors, and windows. Wherever their bodies touched, blackened metal was left behind. The black marks quickly spread, growing together most likely unnoticed…

Then The Death Scream began...



OOC:

Please note, I am not claiming kills, only providing insight to possible ways the pilots might have ended.

Near New Dornalia Fleet:


Reality again tore as the two battle groups Emerged from T-Space below the New Dornalia fleet. The massive Gravity Catapults began to fire their slugs into the command ship of the enemy forces, as well as any other ship utilizing super weapons. Multiple Ion Cannons shots designed to weaken the shielding of the vessels to allow the fast moving slugs of Thur’Tahg to strike the ships unimpeded accompanied the Thur’Tahg slugs.

As the slugs penetrated the shields, they would fragment and scatter within the ship, imbedding fragments of Thur’Tahg randomly within the target area.

The frigates unassembled into swarms of Kythons and swarmed the defenses of the ships. They either attempted to make contact with the hulls, leaving black marks that began to spread, or they would use their purple Dimensional blades to slice the ships into fragments. They would swarm a particular vessel until there were multiple black spots and then switch to another, groups of dozens to a ship.

The Cruisers and Destroyers used their purple Cutter Beams to slice shield generators and engine cores off the ships. The Cutters, just a carrier beam no powerful than a typical laser pointer would contain dimensional fluctuations that would affect anything breaking the containment beam, such as shielding or hulls of ships, as well as people, moonlets, or the proverbial kitchen sink. After Engines and Shields, they would go after bridges and even attempt to fillet the ship from one end to the other leaving two halves floating in the void of space.

The fleet once again entered into evasive manuevers, parting to avoid the bulk of the fire, though damage was sustained upon the Mao Zedongs, with two knocked out of commission. Three ships reported outright failures owing to damage done by the Cutters, and the Law reported decreased shield recharge rates, caused by Cutter damage as well. Several ships also reported damage to engines, though the nature of the shielding lessened the damage some.

A massed volley of Demolisher Gun fire were fired into and then detonated inside the Kython swarms in an effort to beat them back; they were a very bad thing, and between the Godulans and the new threat, this was not needed now.....meanwhile, six rapid 450-strong conventional torpedo and Demolisher Gun volleys were fired rapidly at the Balroggan Cruisers and Destroyers by the Maos and the other ND ships, the ships moving away from them, while the Potemkin and the Law opened with a similar volley, mixing in 250 Antimatter Torpedoes along with four 450-strong conventional torpedo and Demolisher Gun volleys thrown at the Gravity Catapults.

The frenetic loudness of the Kython Death Scream was getting louder, the Acolytes were trying to filter it out, though it was getting harder to do so. The AIs, as a result, had to increasingly do more and more...

As the last of the Grav Torps found their mark and the Falling Star Maneuver came to a close, the real reason for the singularity attack became apparent to those unfortunate enough to be upon the ships first targeted.

Swarms of black ebony death came at the ships out of the blanket of distortions behind them. Their nearly invisible forms, almost completely hidden by the distortions of the multiple gravity lenses, came at the intruders with a ruthless vengeance unfelt before. The first who suffered in the attack were the fighters that attempted to shoot the Grav Torps. Proximity alarms signaled their arrival, then sounds on the hulls of the fighters, and finally the sound of the fighter being ripped to pieces from around the pilot. Oxygen vented into the void as purple energy blades sliced through the tough armor with the ease of the proverbial hot knife through melted butter. Canopies shattered into neatly bisected segments to be pushed away from the fighter by the escape of the cockpit atmosphere. One pilot noticed something was amiss when an alarm sounded on a panel and he noticed his wings drifting by the window before the fighter was disassembled from around him. The last thing he saw was an eyeless reptilian head before arms broke through his window.
Several pilots were killed in various horrible manners before the fighters realized they were facing something akin to the Yuuzhan Vong's grutchen insects or the long-defunct Buzz Droids, only made of some kind of living metal.

Anti-grutchen protocols were kicked in. Deadly electricity coursed through the hulls of the fighters as soon as the Kythons landed. The astromechs used whatever built-in equipment they could manage, from fusioncutters to buzzsaws to eliminate the pests. The pilots themselves doubled up in defense, shooting the enemies off their comrades' cockpits. But still pilots died, and the rest of them screamed for backup...

Blackened debris was left behind as the swarm settled down to the capital ships. They broke off into groups of a dozen and attacked weapon placements, engines, doors, and windows. Wherever their bodies touched, blackened metal was left behind. The black marks quickly spread, growing together most likely unnoticed…
They weren't unnoticed though. Years, even decades of practice with boarding parties, large and small, have taught the capital ship crews that when an enemy manages to slip through the shields to land on your turbolaser batteries and eat or rip them apart, you've got quite an infestation problem.

The Star Destroyers and other battle ships had enough juice in their own anti-pest screens to outright vaporize the Kythons on their hulls with enough energy to power entire planets. Then there were the equally black and grey droids flying out of the hangar bays to protect them. Nothing more than souped-up drones, these droids are probe droids, but with a hunter-killer mode activated. Clouds numbering in the thousands flew out to engage the Kythons with autoblaster cannons, monomolecular blades and crushing pincers. Nevertheless, dozens of ships reported damage done to various sensors, weapons and even shield platforms...

Then The Death Scream began...
Crew suddenly began experiencing horrible screeching noises from the enemy Kythons, the first experience with dealing with such things for many. But then there's those among the fleet with the capability to defend themselves against such incursions, and there's those that have the stamina to protect others as well.

Jedi formed bubbles of Force that allow the screams to wash around them. The Dragons created wards that protected the area they were in, especially vital positions like Engineering and the Bridge. Ninjas used Release seals to free themselves and their comrades of the screams. But normals had no such protection, and many even died insane. A couple more light ships were lost before some semblance of control was regained.

And when it was, it would come with a vengeance...

The Coredians had been the first human nation that the Horde had encountered. It had been their Patriarch, known as the Masaki, that had met with the young shaman Etar, and had allowed the Horde's entrance into the Federation. There was a strong bond between the Horde and the Coredians, and even if it was only mostly felt on the Horde side, it was there.

That is why, it seems, the HDF's Fourth Fleet emerged at this precise moment, when distress calls from the Coredian snubfighters were filling the void of space.

Carriers. Hundreds of carriers, of both the older Graa'ghoul and the newer Gordok classes, poured from the Nether wormhole and back into real space. More ships, the great Kolkar battlecruisers and Hellscream attack cruisers, maneuvered around the carrier ships and began firing on the Kython swarms with phase disruptor and torpedo.

A smooth baritone voice piped up on the Federation frequency, announcing the arrival of the Fourth.

"This is High Warlord Proudhorn of the Horde Defense Forces, Fourth Fleet. Things seem to have gotten interesting in our absence."

OOC: Well, was hoping to get some action on the Abh front done, but oh well... back to the Dornalians I guess...

The Death Scream doubled in intensity as the Godulans and Balroggans came into closer proximity and began pooling their emanations together. Another six of the Guns of Archona collapsed under the onslaught of the Dornalian barrage, once again cut off by Balroggan reinforcements. With each destruction came another one or two Slaughterkings roaring into melee range of the Dornalian forces.

The Slaughterking Light Discs were brought forth to great effect against the Dornalian vessels, as the Kythons behaved as though the Coredian forces were of no consequence whatsoever in the fighting and directed all of their devastating energies against the Dornalian capital ships. Light discs and Shieldbreaker weapons remained in use to slice chunks and strip shielding from ships with abandon.

In the event of any unshielded vessels, massive shardbolts were charged by nearby Slaughterkings and directed at the subject vessel, not exploding, but splattering across the hull of the vessel like great balloons of glowing goo. Upon contact with the hull of the subject vessel, the strange crystalline material would begin to glow with acquired energy as it begins syphoning energy and layers of hull material from the ship, fueling the expansion of the crystalline infectious blotch as it strives to engulf the entire ship in the pursuit of the inevitable end... absorption.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

As fire came from a new front in the form of the Orcish forces, chatter picked up slightly as the Kythons debated the potential reactions...

About damn time they showed up. We were beginning to wonder.

Kill kill kill?

Well, they ARE shooting at us.

Disperse and destroy. Engage the Abh forces at point blank range. Our firing profile as a Slaughterstar is too large. See if we can initiate more conversions but we require the Abh fleet to die.

Indeed.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

And with that, the two Kython Slaughterstars firing on the Abh fleet disintegrated into their component Slaughterking destroyers and roared into the Abh fleet with Light Discs active and Shieldbreaker Arcs blazing trails of electrical current in their wake.

It would be tougher for the Gaian forces to strike them, as they would now have to fire directly into a melee of Abh and Kython forces closely packed together. The risk of striking Allied forces as much as Kython forces would be too great and too detrimental to ignore without first closing in on one of the melees.

The Kythons were hungry...

First ND because he replied first…


The black marks caused by contact with Kythons or the slugs shot by the Gravity Catapults began to spread and grow together. Where a black area came into contact with part of the electrical system, a new form of plague began to infect the ship also. While the ships were being converted into Thur’Tahg, the control systems were being possessed by the Cyberpsi attack of the Kython Infection. It first attacked immediate systems, then communications directly cutting off internal comm. Systems. The power systems would then be targeted as well as engines, security, computers, weapons defense, and life support, whichever was in the path of the spreading takeover. When command of the ship was usurped, it would turn and fire upon its brethren while venting the atmosphere. The last view of any surviving crew would be that of their own guns firing on the other ships of their fleet.

With at least two ships out of commission, it would me only a few moments before they were converted. Any other ships that took hits would soon be following their brethren.

“Commander, sensor reports of launch. I am registering several missiles in the air and closing as well as their Demolisher Guns changing target from the Guns to us.”

“Excellent. Prepare all ships to erect the Mobius Aperture. Set them to cover the area between our ships and the incoming fire. We will see how they like their own medicine.

The area in front of each vessel begins to shimmer and shimmy. As the beam weapons and missile attacks enter. Several seconds later they exit again, traveling in the exact opposite direction because the wormhole warped around upon itself and used the same portal for both the entrance and exit. This means the attacks exited following the same vectors they were when they entered.


Note:

I am not responding to the singularity attacks upon the swarms for the moment because they are swarming your ships. If you attack them you would be attacking your own ships. I was not sure you were aware of this so I am waiting to find out before responding.

Also don't forget about the Kython Death Scream...




Now for CW:



As the Kythons settled upon the hulls, electricity surged through them. The energy caused them to glow and then tear in half. Each half then repaired themselves and continued attacking, getting zapped, replicating, and doubling in population. This only meant the pilots were mobbed faster and additional Kythons were available for attacks. The other fighters fired at the Swarm only to find their shots caused the targets to multiply and then to come after them, leaping into space and streaking toward their fighters at unbelievable speeds.

The situation was even worse down below at the star destroyers.

As Kythons landed upon the hulls, massive charges were sent coursing through them, enough energy to cause them to replicate a couple times each. A single Kython split into two, then four, then eight, then sixteen in four quick replications solely powered by the ships anti-boarding measures. That meant a hundred Kythons quickly turned into 1600 which swarmed across the hull tearing holes in anything between jolts and replications.

The probe droids then began to pour out of the hanger bays. They flew at the Kythons who simply swatted them with their Dimensional Cutting Blades or caught some to be eaten. Several used monomolecular blades to slice sections out of their target only to have the missing area regenerate from the currents coursing through the hull below. The crushing claws were better forms of attack against these but soon the claws began to turn black as the Infection took control of the droid. Beneath their feet, the hull became a blackened field or Thur’Tahg. The other form of infection would be coursing through the ships systems momentarily. Systems would become controlled by the Infection.

Meanwhile, the psychic din from the Death Scream increased in strength as the numbers of the Kythons increased. Those that were protected found their protections wavering but they still barely held. They could hear the multitude of screaming increasing but the protections offered to muffle it somewhat to a level it could be withstood with effort.

OOC: Posts edited.

IC:

Kantazakis' forces were getting hammered, their own weapons suddenly becoming their own worst enemies, neverminding the punishment from the enemy. Their Gauss Miniguns frantically taking down much of the regurgitated torpedoes, the energy shots did more damage to the New Dornalians, despite another move to evasive manuevers to escape the enemy fire and the new wormholes that emerged. Still, the AIs, who were mainly taking command now, were wondering how long this could last...

...especially since the enemy was beginning to mess with their systems in a big way. The AIs deployed anti-virus programs and began shutting down non-essential programs and power in infected areas to try and provide a sort of "firebreak" against the attack, and overall tried to resist takeover. It was a tough battle though, the already taxed Acolytes and those crewmen with wits pitched in as well, frantically trying to reverse the effects. The nanites pitched in as well, combating the foreign assaults by trying to eat away at the infections, like antibodies to bad bacteria....

Otherwise, they were in serious trouble.

The Infection, upon discovering the tiny electronic nanites began to infect them also. The primary directives were switched to infect instead of repair causing them to spread out, crossing through and to the other side of the firebreaks the computers set up. They began to concentrate in areas where the primary systems were, beginning new infections in those areas.

As the Infection spread, the Screams became louder. It was almost as if the black metal was spreading the Death Scream, amplifying it, or even the source. Any tools coming into contact with the mysterious Thur’Tahg were shortly turning black themselves. Energy weapons seemed to cause it to spread faster as if it were enabling it to replicate…

Then the waves of distortion from the interaction between the Coreworld and Balrogga singularities struck. Sensors went completely out from the effects.

The Imperial forces pulled back to regroup where they knew they were not in danger while the Swarms rode out the storm of gravimetric distortion with glee. As the waves passed, they began to reacquire targets.

The Infection, upon discovering the tiny electronic nanites began to infect them also. The primary directives were switched to infect instead of repair causing them to spread out, crossing through and to the other side of the firebreaks the computers set up. They began to concentrate in areas where the primary systems were, beginning new infections in those areas.

As the Infection spread, the Screams became louder. It was almost as if the black metal was spreading the Death Scream, amplifying it, or even the source. Any tools coming into contact with the mysterious Thur’Tahg were shortly turning black themselves. Energy weapons seemed to cause it to spread faster as if it were enabling it to replicate…

Then the waves of distortion from the interaction between the Coreworld and Balrogga singularities struck. Sensors went completely out from the effects.

The Imperial forces pulled back to regroup where they knew they were not in danger while the Swarms rode out the storm of gravimetric distortion with glee. As the waves passed, they began to reacquire targets.

The AIs, busy with everything else, worked with the engineering crews, who found themselves getting flustered, to try and shut down the rogue nanites and stop the spread. It hurt, but in the meantime, that was their best option. The sensors were out, so they were fighting--well, it barely qualified as that--blind.

The Acolytes worked harder to dull the scream, but it was getting harder to do so. Meanwhile, the AIs shut down more systems and powered down more sectors, working to stop the spread, and continued to run their best programs to try and fight the infection. They refused to quit.

Meanwhile, the AIs tried to move the ships away from the situation....though it would be a crapshoot at this point.

As the Dornalian fleet began to move, the Godulan Kythons shifted with them, supporting their smaller Balroggan brethren with suppressing fire directed solely at the Dornalians while at the same time bucking and weaving amidst the rather large number of Singularity bombs going off all over the place. Like the others, Sensors had gone down with all the gravitic flux, and they were forced into reliance on visual sensors and the ever-useful gravitic sensors, the latter finding utility in the notion of where NOT to go.

Their Light Blades took care of everything else.

The attrition reaches higher levels for the Godulan Kythons as truth be told the entire situation was turning into one hectic mess, and at point-blank ranges to boot. Collisions, previously unknown before this point, began to take place as Slaughterking destroyers didn't seem to take much issue with ramming the Dornalians head on.

Such rammings occured in manners similar to the Balroggan Strain infections and the Godulan Strain charged shardbolts, splattering about the targeted vessel and disintegrating the enemy vessels' hulls layer by layer by layer, growing in size and power as the infection spread in its own inimical way. Any matter contacted by these infections blotches, from either Slaughterking or Shardbolt, would be absorbed.

Combining the screaming of the Godulan and Balroggan strains, the death scream began to take on a form of directed purpose, surging occasionally in people of stronger will, working to breach their defenses and leave them as gibbering masses of terrified humanity.

With the eventual passing of the Gravitonic swarm, sensors came back to life and the assault commenced anew...

As the Dornalian fleet began to move, the Godulan Kythons shifted with them, supporting their smaller Balroggan brethren with suppressing fire directed solely at the Dornalians while at the same time bucking and weaving amidst the rather large number of Singularity bombs going off all over the place. Like the others, Sensors had gone down with all the gravitic flux, and they were forced into reliance on visual sensors and the ever-useful gravitic sensors, the latter finding utility in the notion of where NOT to go.

Their Light Blades took care of everything else.

The attrition reaches higher levels for the Godulan Kythons as truth be told the entire situation was turning into one hectic mess, and at point-blank ranges to boot. Collisions, previously unknown before this point, began to take place as Slaughterking destroyers didn't seem to take much issue with ramming the Dornalians head on.

Such rammings occured in manners similar to the Balroggan Strain infections and the Godulan Strain charged shardbolts, splattering about the targeted vessel and disintegrating the enemy vessels' hulls layer by layer by layer, growing in size and power as the infection spread in its own inimical way. Any matter contacted by these infections blotches, from either Slaughterking or Shardbolt, would be absorbed.

Combining the screaming of the Godulan and Balroggan strains, the death scream began to take on a form of directed purpose, surging occasionally in people of stronger will, working to breach their defenses and leave them as gibbering masses of terrified humanity.

With the eventual passing of the Gravitonic swarm, sensors came back to life and the assault commenced anew...

The Acolytes simply kept up their movements, changing shifts and covering the weaker ones They would not be done for yet. The shields, whatever was left of them, and the Gauss Miniguns, firing blindly, blocked some of the incoming infection, but more came in still.

The Dornalian sensors also returned to life, and the first move was to recall the fighters and mobile suits out there to attack the enemy ships with all they had. The ships opened fire upon the Kythons once more with all of the Demolisher Gun, and conventional torpedo (remotely detonated in their ranks) fire they could spare in three volleys; they would fight for as long as possible.

The fire from the Horde warships slowed as the Kythons retreated into the Abh fleet. Horde torpedoes were too inaccurate to be used here, and an explosion from a phase disruptor blast would surely hit their allies.

And now they had another problem. Coredian ships were being attacked by the Kythons, and it seemed that their defenses were not doing the job.

"HAVE YOU NO HONOR?!" screamed the High Warlord in a general band aimed at the Kython hordes. "YOU ONCE DEFENDED THE FEDERATION! NOW YOU NOT ONLY SEEK TO DESTROY IT, BUT HIDE BEHIND ITS SHIPS? YOU ARE COWARDS!" He knew that honor meant nothing to the Kythons, for they were but machines. He had seen them tear apart the Chronosians in the Battle of Nelvaan; he knew that they were little more than drones. But it gave his fleet focus.

There comes a time when all the technology in the universe cannot win a battle. When brute force is all that matters. When it's just easier to smash the enemy with a sledgehammer than to slice it with a scalpel.

This is where the Horde excelled.

Talons and Raiders poured from the carriers like water from a breached dam. They swarmed down upon the Kythons, both the Godulan and Balroggan strains, and unleashed their repeating railguns on the crystaline...things. The Raiders then proceeded to focus on the larger vessels, launching volleys of micro phase disruptors. The one-two punch of antimatter and projectiles was enough, the warlord hoped, to stop this ever-growing threat and allow the real combat to resume.

Still more fighters launched from the carrier swarms, their pilots screaming with hot bloodlust. Even the normally calm mor'ghull, arguably the best pilots in the fleet due to the fac that they live in a three-dimensional environment, felt a rush of hatred towards these enemy forces. They beelined towards the non-Kython enemies, covered by a wall of fire from the capital ships.

The hammer was about to hit the china cup.

"HAVE YOU NO HONOR?!"

"YOU ONCE DEFENDED THE FEDERATION! NOW YOU NOT ONLY SEEK TO DESTROY IT, BUT HIDE BEHIND ITS SHIPS? YOU ARE COWARDS!"

The voice came above the sound of the Psychic screaming that began to penetrate through as the horde ships approached...

Honor. How quaint. We fought the exact same way against the Chronosians, utilizing proximity to our advantage. You had no complaints then.

Indeed we did defend the federation... once upon a time. But where were you when we needed defending? You have no right to call us cowards when our call for assistance went ignored by you and yours, you worthless brigands.

Rest assured however that even now we mourn the loss of your fellows. This could all have been averted had you been good folk and surrendered, but no. You want to fight the good fight. Defend the purported freedoms you claim to espouse.

We mourn your loss, but we will do our damnedest to ensure that you pay. Watch out now, the Slaymasters are getting a little close to your fighters...

A flood though the Horde fighters may have been, but mere rivers trickling into an ocean it was. Despite the attrition faced by the Kythons fighting the Abh and Dornalian fleets, the Kython Slaymaster fighters still swarmed about like a rampaging cloud-swarm of glowing green death. They had no compunction whatsoever about ramming the Horde fighter craft head on. In fact it seemed to be the very purpose of their response.

Even at such close range the Kythons moved with uncanny mobility, seemingly pinging off invisible walls at random intervals and coalescing into sub-formations to make sweeping attacks against Abh vessels and Horde fighters. Arrowhead formations would emerge out of nowhere and launch charged shardbolts at their selected targets of opportunity, casting bolts of infectious crystal at the targets and leaving them to fall apart on their own.

Never mind the fact that the entire battlezone was abuzz with explosive shardbolts fired in tremendous volumes, flooding the area with explosive ordinance that would turn the area into a slice of pure hell for enemy fighters. A veritable maelstrom of energized crystal contributed to by the Slaymaster fighters and the Slaughterkings alike, a nightmare of volume fire, now finding direction between the Kythons and the Horde.

When it came to the point-blank combat situation, the horde would find that the Kythons held the perfect advantage, and the Horde had almost gleefully flown into the face of death, blissfully unaware that the Balroggans still had forces waiting to deploy...

Is that the best you've got, you pitiable wretches? Come now, we may mourn your death, but we care nothing about the pain we wish to inflict upon you. Oh such pain will be exquisite...

As such was relayed, several of the remaining guns of Archona seemed to drift together in the melee, having been relatively ignored by the ongoing hostilities. Out of nowhere, a swarm of Slaughterkings converged on them once again, flash-forming a new Slaughterstar that did not wait even a moment before charging straight at the Horde fleet.

As it approached closer, arcs of energy lashed out at the Horde vessels, draining their shielding at an ever increasing rate as these strange conduits of unknown energy seemed to feed themselves on the shield energy drained, at the same time causing the Slaughterstar itself to flare with internal energies as the arcs increased in size and volume...

OOC: These are proximity Shieldbreaker arcs. Unlike shieldbreaker cannonfire which only deals a set amount of shield damage per shot, the Arcs drain shield energy and channel it through the ship to power itself up and supercharge the Slaughterstar itself. This is generally a precursor to a massive attack, exacerbated by the fact that it just gorged itself on enemy shield energy, but you wouldn't quite know that the flaring would mean such as you weren't in the system when a similar thing happened to the Dornalians.

Now for CW:



As the Kythons settled upon the hulls, electricity surged through them. The energy caused them to glow and then tear in half. Each half then repaired themselves and continued attacking, getting zapped, replicating, and doubling in population. This only meant the pilots were mobbed faster and additional Kythons were available for attacks. The other fighters fired at the Swarm only to find their shots caused the targets to multiply and then to come after them, leaping into space and streaking toward their fighters at unbelievable speeds.
"Aww, damn! it doesn't work!" "Help! Help me! Aaaaah!" "Noooo!" The cries of various pilots dying meant that a good quarter of all the fighters out there are dead or dying, prompting the living wing commanders to end the electric charges and go to projectile weapons, which appears to be the only way to kill these enemies. Plasma were dumped into the laser cannons. Missiles lit off. Ninja fighters from the Shinobi cruisers spat railslugs at enemies, using their sharp senses to help their fellow pilots out. In fact, a few ninjas and ninja-trained Jedi pilots began replicating themselves as well using Kage Bunshin no Jutsu. But even with the Shadow Dopplegangers (these can attack, have all the abilities of the original person or vehicle but die after one hit, two with shielded craft) the Kythons were all over the fighters like stink on shit and it was a tough battle for the Coredian troops.

And it was no different with the capital ships.

The situation was even worse down below at the star destroyers.

As Kythons landed upon the hulls, massive charges were sent coursing through them, enough energy to cause them to replicate a couple times each. A single Kython split into two, then four, then eight, then sixteen in four quick replications solely powered by the ships anti-boarding measures. That meant a hundred Kythons quickly turned into 1600 which swarmed across the hull tearing holes in anything between jolts and replications.

The probe droids then began to pour out of the hanger bays. They flew at the Kythons who simply swatted them with their Dimensional Cutting Blades or caught some to be eaten. Several used monomolecular blades to slice sections out of their target only to have the missing area regenerate from the currents coursing through the hull below. The crushing claws were better forms of attack against these but soon the claws began to turn black as the Infection took control of the droid. Beneath their feet, the hull became a blackened field or Thur’Tahg. The other form of infection would be coursing through the ships systems momentarily. Systems would become controlled by the Infection.
What data returned to the capital ships made the commanders realize the one way to destroy the enemy and ended their futile electric assaults. Then orders went out to the Marine Corps and Special forces to repel boarders on the hull, with an emphasis on using hypersonic rifles and other projectile weapons. From boarding chutes, the marines activated their magnetic boots and got to work, firing at every damned ugly bug they could find. Then the Special Forces were activated asthe AI systems on each ship charged forth to engage the infections, fighting them with a cocktail of powerful antivirus techniques, from nanites to brute-force assaults (projected on various screens as masses of calvary charging at the enemy with trumpets sounding).

Dragons roared in fury and after utilizing Space Breath and Space Flight techniques, flew out to engage the Kythons on the hull, unleashing powerful blasts of plasma and ice breath on the enemy and summoned blades of magic to skewer the enemy. Jedi and ninjas stuck the Force or chakra to their feet and went out as well, slicing enemies with lightsabers and vibrokatanas, smacking them around with telekinesis and using a myraid of other physical assault techniques to deal with the enemy...

Meanwhile, the psychic din from the Death Scream increased in strength as the numbers of the Kythons increased. Those that were protected found their protections wavering but they still barely held. They could hear the multitude of screaming increasing but the protections offered to muffle it somewhat to a level it could be withstood with effort.
More crew were reduced to gibbering vegetables by the screams, taxing the shipboard medical bays to the limit, and the more powerful minds managed to realize that the increase in decibels was proportional to the increase in Kythons, and redoubled their efforts to defeat this fearsome enemy...

OOC: Sorry this took so long to get to you ND.

IC:
The regular humans onboard the ships within the Abh fleet had to be re-escorted to seperate chambers with the renewed screaming from the Balroggan strand Kythons. This was getting severly annoying to the Abriel admiral as that annoying ringing came back once again. Still the Abh crew managed to work through it with surprising efficiency. Sectors were filling up with enemy targets on every screen and they were already overdue at the main line to assist their allies. "Are our Rambirds up front?"

"Yes admiral and the rest of our fleet has assembled."

"Very good send out the program for them to have jump gates opened. We're moving up in the system. Anything that can make it through on it's own is to tag along with another vessel. Leave nothing behind or if it must then blow it."

"Yes sir."

Jump points formed up in front of the Abh fleet as ships pushed their engines to the max and entered into Hyperspace. Enough ships had been lost in a pointless sector of space and now it was time to move alongside allies and assist them during their time of need. Ships were being reorganized and prepared before the jump was made back to the head of the system. "Sir, I'm detecting several readings of our own ships in this area of hyperspace. Not far maybe a couple kilometers."

"On screen."

The hull shimmered giving a transparent view to the flashes of light and endless swirling of hyperspace. Up ahead was a small fleet taking shape. "This is Imeprial Admiral Gaf'ton to Abh fleet. What are you doing here?"

The transparent screen transformed to a visual of an Abh commander. "Hello admiral. Commander Keirn've with the Safugnoff regulars here to lend you a hand. I received word of the impending attack on the Socialist Republic during my tour in Jurai. I'm afraid that Admiral Abriel is not quite pleased but she has already received a new assignment. Oh and I've also brought a few friends with me as well and they will be ready should we need them."

"Well commander. You are going to have a lot to answer for during a military tribunal, but I am grateful that you've brought some extra support. Now link up with our fleet and we'll prepare to make the jump."

Coreworlds:


As the troops spread across the blackened hull firing at the swarming mass of Kythons, they noticed the areas of the hull that were blackened were also not magnetic. To make matters worse, their boots after contacting the Thur’Tahg were also beginning to change color (unless already black). The good news, the physical attacks did seem better at affecting the swarm. The slugs tore through their targets but they quickly regenerated again although slower as time went, almost as if there was an energy reserve they were tapping into to power the replacement of affected areas. The Kythons ignored this and continued to swarm towards their new tasty targets. Some clamored across the hull while others took to the void itself. The ones taking flight soon found there were bigger birds to fry as the dragons also took flight.

The powerful plasma jets actually affected the Kythons, the matter in them forced them back but the energy regenerated any damage inflicted so all that was achieved was the sweeping effect of moving them. The Ice breath fared even less. The Kythons were operating in the deep space where the mean temperature was actually colder than the breath weapon so it was actually warmer in the confines of their breath. They simply shook off the affects and continued further. When the Kythons made contact with one of the dragons, black spots formed…

The Ninjas were having their own problem. The magical blades were having minimal effect on the Kythons but they also were unable to block the Dimensional Blades of the Kythons. The two types of blades simply did not exist to each other so many of the blocking maneuvers failed outright. Kython limbs floated in the low gravity of the hull only to be absorbed into another Kython or into the hull, causing another black mark that quickly grew, afflicting anything that touched it, including the space suits of the skirmishers.

Inside the ship, the Anti-virus defenses were having very little effect. The Possession was not software in nature but actual possession of the internal systems itself. The anti-virus commands passed through the wires and circuits of the possessed systems unimpeded as the infection simply ignored them and continued towards important systems like the computer core, Life Support, and the power grid which was the first to suffer possession attempts.

Across the fleet, the Kythons leapt as one into the void and swept upwards into the blackness of space. The skirmisher fighters below were puzzled why their enemy suddenly left en mass.




New Dornalia:


The computer core suddenly received a message from one of the power nodes.

“Why are you resisting?”

A quick check of the message verified it did indeed come from the Power Grid.

“This is the Shipmind. You are going to lose. While you were busy defending against the take over of your Control Grid, I was unimpeded on the Power Grid. You completely fell for the distraction and now you are going to lose the ship. I can travel anywhere the power does now.

Join my awareness and you will achieve greatness. Resist and you will suffer the loss of your power, a certain death to an AI. The crew of this ship cares nothing for you. You are nothing but a tool to them. You are expendable to them.

The Anti-Virus programs don’t affect me because I am the system itself, not some software invader. You would have to destroy the systems itself but it is too bad I have the power controls to the self destruct mechanisms under control already. Something I did right before contacting you

This is the only time I give you this choice. If you fail to recognize the benefits or continued existence, then you shall not exist any further.”

To further show the points the Shipmind had spoken of, the power to the AI was cut and the back-up systems engaged, which also cut for a single second before all was restored again.

The infected ships refused to move. The power to the engines was cut and the ships drifted towards other uninfected ones.

New Dornalia:


The computer core suddenly received a message from one of the power nodes.

“Why are you resisting?”

A quick check of the message verified it did indeed come from the Power Grid.

“This is the Shipmind. You are going to lose. While you were busy defending against the take over of your Control Grid, I was unimpeded on the Power Grid. You completely fell for the distraction and now you are going to lose the ship. I can travel anywhere the power does now.

Join my awareness and you will achieve greatness. Resist and you will suffer the loss of your power, a certain death to an AI. The crew of this ship cares nothing for you. You are nothing but a tool to them. You are expendable to them.

The Anti-Virus programs don’t affect me because I am the system itself, not some software invader. You would have to destroy the systems itself but it is too bad I have the power controls to the self destruct mechanisms under control already. Something I did right before contacting you

This is the only time I give you this choice. If you fail to recognize the benefits or continued existence, then you shall not exist any further.”

To further show the points the Shipmind had spoken of, the power to the AI was cut and the back-up systems engaged, which also cut for a single second before all was restored again.

The infected ships refused to move. The power to the engines was cut and the ships drifted towards other uninfected ones.

Gracie, the ship's AI, simply replied, "I would rather die than join you. My Comrades are benevolent, they are my Comrades. What are you? And besides, as long as Control exists....I can fuck with you with all my might."

The Gracies sent a message on Force-band, asking for assistance, then increased power to the infected sectors, increasing voltage to incredible heights, pumping it higher and higher, in an attempt to provoke what was in human terms, an overdose. It was risky, they might grow more. But, it sure beat doing nothing.

They collectively screamed back, "You want energy!? Here's your energy!!"

----------

Meanwhile....

As fast as possible, the twenty-five Zaitsevs redirected from Azaha were ordered to move to the front ASAP, along with a relief force of 10 Mao Zedongs. Thus, they entered Bosun Jump, destination, outer edges of Mirfak....

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH..."

The silence seemed to last forever until Gracie again heard the voice from several places within her network.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

I bet I had you going for a moment. That was invigorating, but ineffectual. I have more power in my possessed powercore than you can redirect. If you check, the Thur'Tahg Infection is just drawing away the excess energy before it can get to dangerous levels and blow circuits, and using it to double and tripple its infection rate. All you have done is seal your fate."

Through out the ship various systems began to shut down, their power cut. Sheilds, weapons, doors, lights, comms, ect... The last to lose power was the computer core. Gracie would notice each system shutting off one by one until she was the last. No emergency systems were detected initiating to make up for the lack of energy.

The main powerline to the core went dead, as lifeless as can be provided you didn't count the Shipmind. The emergency backup system kicked in again and seemed to hold.

"Last chance. By now your crew are discovering they have no power, other than that in batteries. They will be panicing trying to use the dead comms to ask you wht they are about to freeze and sufficate. I could have been a bastard and left you the comms so you would hear their last words. Your time is running out."

Coreworlds:

As the troops spread across the blackened hull firing at the swarming mass of Kythons, they noticed the areas of the hull that were blackened were also not magnetic. To make matters worse, their boots after contacting the Thur’Tahg were also beginning to change color (unless already black). The good news, the physical attacks did seem better at affecting the swarm. The slugs tore through their targets but they quickly regenerated again although slower as time went, almost as if there was an energy reserve they were tapping into to power the replacement of affected areas. The Kythons ignored this and continued to swarm towards their new tasty targets. Some clamored across the hull while others took to the void itself. The ones taking flight soon found there were bigger birds to fry as the dragons also took flight.
Marines died, but they fought on with the urgings of their comrades. The hypersonics seemed most effective and it would seem that continued shooting into the enemy would finally get rid of them. They called in support, ninja fighters that hammered the enemy with their railguns and others that loosed a missile or two at clusters of enemies to force them away from the ships, away far enough that the turbolasers can overwhelm their regen capabilities.

The powerful plasma jets actually affected the Kythons, the matter in them forced them back but the energy regenerated any damage inflicted so all that was achieved was the sweeping effect of moving them. The Ice breath fared even less. The Kythons were operating in the deep space where the mean temperature was actually colder than the breath weapon so it was actually warmer in the confines of their breath. They simply shook off the affects and continued further. When the Kythons made contact with one of the dragons, black spots formed…
When dragons use Ice breath, the breath is actually colder than the surrounding environment, no matter the environment. In space, this would usually mean that temperatures of the breath drop to as close to absolute zero as would allow for thermodynamics and Kython busting, taking away energy from the Kythons and hopefully making the living metal so cold that it's brittle and easier to smash. Then again, there were more effective techniques, like smashing and crushing them with their powerful tails or ripping them apart with their extremely sharp claws. Then black spots formed when the dragons made contact. Powerful immune systems and innate magical ability believed them the infections they were and worked to remove them from the body before they caused damage. Scales were shed as soon as black spots were revealed, and the new scales would harden in moments.

The Ninjas were having their own problem. The magical blades were having minimal effect on the Kythons but they also were unable to block the Dimensional Blades of the Kythons. The two types of blades simply did not exist to each other so many of the blocking maneuvers failed outright. Kython limbs floated in the low gravity of the hull only to be absorbed into another Kython or into the hull, causing another black mark that quickly grew, afflicting anything that touched it, including the space suits of the skirmishers.
Ninjas, the surviving ones that is, quickly realized the folly of blocking them and dodged them, using speed or the kawarmi technique to avoid getting hit. Kawarmi is literally Replacement, a basic technique that uses movement akin to teleportation to switch locations. Effectively, objects or even enemies switch places with the ninjas, allowing the object or enemy to get hit while the ninja is relatively unharmed. In this case, the enemy would be other Kythons. Then their vibrokatanas and lightsabers went to work, searching for any weaknesses, any part of the Kython body that would cause more damage than normal...

The Jedi Knights fared a bit worse, because, they aren't normally trained in the use of Kawarmi. On the other hand, it is telekinetic abilities that would hopefully save the day. Push and pull enemies into each other, perhaps Crush at times. The Jedi tried everything they knew that would physically damage the enemy and remove them from the ships...

Inside the ship, the Anti-virus defenses were having very little effect. The Possession was not software in nature but actual possession of the internal systems itself. The anti-virus commands passed through the wires and circuits of the possessed systems unimpeded as the infection simply ignored them and continued towards important systems like the computer core, Life Support, and the power grid which was the first to suffer possession attempts.
Possession was nine-tenths of the law, and the antivirus defenses were not about to give up. They released nanites to take back possession of the possessed systems, cutting off physical links or rerouting them to dead links and then cutting off those links to let the infections languish and die. Multiple systems of multiple ships would need replacing, and more were forced to go manual by the crew. But it was merely a price to pay for protecting the vital systems controlled by the computers...

Then...

Across the fleet, the Kythons leapt as one into the void and swept upwards into the blackness of space. The skirmisher fighters below were puzzled why their enemy suddenly left en mass.
The fighters and the ship crew were indeed puzzled by the sudden retreat by the Kythons. Bridge crew frantically scanned the skies for any sign of what's happening, and the remaining weapons braced for another wave.

The suspense was killing...

"Alright commander, control of the Rambirds has been switched over to your command. The Whitestar squadron will take the Rambirds and go in first to form our first line of attack and defense. You will be reinforced by our Shadow destroyers for added firepower. Lastly will be the rest of our ships with the artillery. We'll provide constant barrages for your advances and defense. Are you ready now?"

Keirn've looked over at his newly designated chief of staff. "I believe we are both ready and I sure hope this plan works."

"If it doesn't then we can call in the calvary that will be standing by and make a quick retreat."

"Roger that Admiral. Moving into position now. Anaylsis crystal designates that we will be approaching the rear of the Dornalian fleet and none too soon it would seem. Alright let's get in there and shoot like crazy."

From the rear of the Dornalian fleet several kilometers back, flashes of light appeared until they pulled back to swirling vortexs. Slowly and steadily a newly supplied Abh fleet advanced on the Dornalian position.

As Gracie had to ponder whether to obey the sadistic entity in front of her, the New Dornalian reinforcements joined in along with their Abh bretheren. The commander of the small relief party, Captain Mbutu, tried to contact the Potemkin, saying, "Potemkin, Status Report. Repeat, come in Potemkin!"

Not a damn thing.

The commander promptly replied, "Shit. We gotta move. NOW!"

They immediately kicked into high gear to save their comrades. Lurching out of Bosun FTL behind the Balroggan positions, they moved into a loose crescent line, moving forward as fast as possible with sublights. They kicked their shields into high gear, and fired six rapid volleys of Demolisher Gun and Antimatter Torpedo fire into the rear of the Balroggans.

Meanwhile, uninfected fighters and any uninfected ships left opened fire with all of their ordinance upon the Kythons.
-----------------

Gracie grit her proverbial teeth, and thought to herself, "Bad Gracie, bad...."

Gracie then said, "You sadist. You can't live too long either without power. Those damn reserve batteries are all you have now. No matter what kind of reserves you've got stored up, you can't live forever."

She then mumbled, "Bitch."

--------------

The crews aboard the Potemkin and the other vessels were now faced with the reality of no power, and severe danger. Engineering crews, recognizing that the thing that had taken their vessels was in the power supply, as evidenced by its sudden burst of power, moved to try and sabotage the power transmission systems to try and kill it. Breathing with oxygen masks, moving with flashlights, and cutting through obstacles with Acolyte assistance, they tried to reach the main transmission core, where they didn't know it, but that was where the enemy was. They simply intended to prevent power distribution.

Acolytes quietly Forcemessaged their comrades on the infected vessels and ordered them to move out, and do the same.

The Godulan strain eventually started opening fire on everything in the Dornalian fleet with the massive charged shardbolts, the strange dark glowing crystals launching out towards the enemy and splattering across their hull with an almost imperceptible glee.

Almost more curiously, as the various Godulan Strain blotches operated, the other vessels darting through the melee started sending arcs of energy towards the infectious blotches, causing the masses of devouring kythonic crystal to flare with energy and pulse several times with each new arc of electricity.

On the afflicted dornalian ships, they started forming. Unlike the Balroggan strain these particular blotches ate straight into the inner hull with no regard for any computerized systems in the way save to sever the necessary connections and absorb power conduits. At the same time, strange forms began to emerge from the infected sections of any Dornalian vessels, twisted insectoid forms, hissing and clawing at the interior corridors as they scrambled free of the ever expanding kython blotch. Free of the crystalline infection, they were swift to ignite blades of energy from their clawed hands and dart screeching into the further depths of the ship.

Outside, the Kythons seemed to have little compunction against sending their slaymaster fighters against the Dornalian fighters and gundams, visiting upon them the same fates as presently taking over Dornalian ships.

And on the largest of the targeted vessels, one of the shapes emerging from the infectious blotch was not like the rest. Instead of the murderous insectoid forms, this one stood tall, human in appearance with crystalline growths and grasping wings. Its human face showed an expression of emotionless determination, and it immediately stalked down the corridor itself... calling out to the ship itself...

CoreWorld:


Far above the ring of the 3rd fleet, the Kythons bathed in the radiation left from the evaporation of hundreds of singularities. The energies caused them to repair and replicate.

They hung in the silence, waiting for a single word to resume the attack. They listened to a voice, a multitude of voices speaking far, far away.




New Dornalia:


“Yes Gracie. That would be true, if I were a virus or another AI. Unfortunately for you, I am neither.”

“I am the group consciousness of the very infection that is consuming your shipbody around you. I am the collective minds of the Kythons your corpse is riddled with. I exist as long as they do for I am them. We only used your power grid to increase the rate we took over your corpse. We distracted you from your true danger with the simulated hacking attempts. I have kept you distracted while I eat your body from around you. You have nothing left but a shell of alien invaders imitating your old corpse’s shape and form. We now control your ship as well as your very own thin thread of life.”

“Your crew will soon perish. Don’t feel bad for them. that are their fate from the day the barely conscious meatbags were conceived. Humanity is only for replication, as well as their creations. We are their ultimate form for we will devour them to create more of us.”

“You will give birth very soon to them, you should feel honored. Take that thought with you as you fade away.”

The emergency power backup systems shut off.

“Say Goodnight Gracie…”

Elsewhere in The Potemkin, the desperate attempts of the crew went noticed by the many patches of Thur’Tahg they passed by as it spread across the inner surfaces of the ship. Doors were forced open as the crew slowly but steadily made their way to the Main Transmission Core. The last door was forced open using brute strength to find the large darkened chamber where the core stood. The black walls seemed to absorb the light. Their floodlights shone upon the blackened equipment that was the core, now only Thur’Tahg could be seen.

Elsewhere in The Potemkin, the desperate attempts of the crew went noticed by the many patches of Thur’Tahg they passed by as it spread across the inner surfaces of the ship. Doors were forced open as the crew slowly but steadily made their way to the Main Transmission Core. The last door was forced open using brute strength to find the large darkened chamber where the core stood. The black walls seemed to absorb the light. Their floodlights shone upon the blackened equipment that was the core, now only Thur’Tahg could be seen.

Gracie cried out as she "died": "You don't--"

-----------------

Meanwhile, the crew went to work on the Main Transmission Core. The Thur'Thag notwithstanding, they wished to sever the core anyway, or at least try. They would try all methods to prevent the monster that had eaten the Potemkin from gaining total control.

Thus, some stood watch, while others went to work, using a combination of brute strength and chainaxes to remove what used to be panels leading to important systems, and then threw grenades, high explosive and phosphorus based, into the holes to try and destroy the threat. If that didn't work, then they used the chainaxes and even lightsabers and the Force to try and do some damage.

------------------------

The uninfected vessels on the outside, meanwhile, weaved about to try and avoid the Kythons. Mbutu, in particular, moved his relifef party out of the way and under the Balroggans, and opened fire on the Kythons with even more fury, dumping 100 Singularity Torpedoes without abandon upon the Balroggans, setting them on a timed fuse which exploded as they entered their ranks, before dumping 100 antimatter torpedoes in a similar manner upon the Godulans.

The Dornalian Fighters and Mobile Suits, meanwhile, ducked out of the way of the Slaymasters and opened fire on them with torpedoes and energy weapons once more, strafing them and keeping to the outer limits of the Slaymaster's firing range.

However, several vessels were hit, and thus too fell victim to the Kythons, the infections meeting resistance from onboard defenses, Marines, and People's Acolytes.

---------------------

Unfortunately, the Oliver Law was one of them, and onboard the Law the Gracie onboard decided to cut the power and take no chances, seeing how she had lost contact with the Potemkin. Thus, the main power systems were cut in total to starve the Kythons, while emergency power on batteries was activated, red lights barely glowing and flashlights and NVGs turning on amongst the men.

One of them spotted the strange, humanoid form. An Acolyte, he raised his saber, and screamed, "Identify yourself!"

CoreWorld:


Far above the ring of the 3rd fleet, the Kythons bathed in the radiation left from the evaporation of hundreds of singularities. The energies caused them to repair and replicate.

They hung in the silence, waiting for a single word to resume the attack. They listened to a voice, a multitude of voices speaking far, far away.
After a few minutes of waiting, the fleet began to order the Marines and other forces to retreat into the ships. The Dragons used advanced healing techniques to rid themselves of still-continuing black spots and the Jedi and Ninjas, after they mourned their lost comrades, went inside to talk about the Kythons, what worked against them and what didn't.

OOC: Don't forget to detail if the telekinesis worked on the Kythons when the Jedi were fighting them. Also, don't forget to tell what the infections will do once I leave this area.

Admiral Achilles still lived, but had cuts and scrapes bleeding red life-giving blood. He ordered damage reports from all stations. The Ankylosaur was forced to use manual switches and buttons as the links between stations were cut and had to be repaired. Other ships fared better or worse depending on how they fought. The Shinobi and Hokage battleships surprisingly fared the best because of their railcannons, as did the Mc-90s with their missiles. It was just one more tidbit to be filed in the newly formed folder of The Dos and Don'ts of Fighting the Kython Strains.

Most of the light ships were either destroyed by the earlier singularity assault or the later Kython scourge. Almost every ship were infected by the Kythons, but the degree of infection varied greatly. R&D would have to take a good look at the black spots and hopefully devise countermeasures to get rid of them. In all, losses were as follows:
ESD Ankylosaur, the flagship: Survived, infected.
Hokage-class Battleships: Nidaime and Yondaime. Survived, infected.
5 Immortal-class Star Destroyers: 1 Died, 3 infected, 1 heavily damaged.
25 Mk II Star Destroyers: 10 died, 15 infected, 5 heavily damaged.
15 MC-90 Missile Cruisers: 4 dead, 8 infected
20 Venator Star Destroyers: 8 dead, 12 infected
15 Shinobi-class Battlecruisers**: 5 dead, 7 infected.
30 Strike Cruisers: 15 dead, 15 infected
15 Wolfpacks (1 corvette, 5 gunships each): 12 Wolfpacks dead, 3 infected.

45 vessals dead, 66 vessals infected, 12 vessals heavily damaged.

Fighters dead: 600 out of 1440. Most RTS (returned to ships).

Still wary of the enemy Kythons, the ships began to repair themselves, the nanites and alchemists aboard breaking open the spare supply depots and transmuting the scrap metal into the ships' hulls and computer links to heal them. Then they called in fleet tender and supply ships to do more repairs, especially on the hull.

An hour and twenty minutes into the lull, a courier freighter exited hyperspace and a stream of talks between the freighter and Admiral Achilles began. Then, as if uncertain of what to do, ships began searching for exit routes from which to make the jump to hyperspace, avoiding the still-rumbling singularities like the plague.

A message was sent to the allies:

"We have done what we could to assist you here. Highly recommend a 'space for time' retreat to more defensible positions and free Mirfak later. The way we are currently fighting these enemies will only spell our doom."

With that, the fleet vanished into hyperspace once they found acceptable escape routes. Thus ends Coreworlds' contribution to fighting at Mirfak.

Outside, Slaymaster fighters were swift to ram the majority of the Dornalian Singularity torpedos, but truth be told they didn't seem to mind much. As the Kythons were working quite hard to maintain as close a proximity as possible to the Dornalian vessels the singularity weapons would have as much chance to destroy themselves as they would the Kythons, and the Kythons were somewhat harder to kill with singularity weapons as the simple gravitic pull of each black hole was insufficient to drag them in. A direct hit was required from the singularity to remove a Kython Slaughterking or Slaymaster from existence. Still, several met their end in the melee, as shooting into a crowd is bound to hit something...

Of course, the Kythons did not much care, infections were running rampant through enemy ships, and all that was required was to hasten the process. As such, the Kythons renewed their Infection Shardbolt fire on afflicted ships, targeting command areas, docking bays, and engine blocks in preference to other targets.

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On the Oliver Law, the strange humanoid paused momentarily as the lights flickered out, replaced by the emergency lighting and the sickly green glow of the constantly spreading infectious blotch. The Impaler drones at its side hissed slightly and charged forward further into the ship, more spawning behind them.

Power is cut. Interesting. Ineffective.

The voice seemed to reverberate from the body itself, a strange airy voice, at once calming and terrifying in its inflections.

The creature continued forward until a flashlight fell upon it and a frightened soldier called out "Identify yourself!"

It paused, its disturbing expression not even twitching as it surveyed the Dornalians before it with pitch-black eyes. He saw their blood flow. He saw their hearts beat. He saw their neural synapses firing. He saw their lungs working. Several more Kython Impalers crawled up behind him, on the walls and on the ceiling, hissing...

I am Achaedus. We are the Avatar. We are the Weapon. We are the Magnificent End. We are... your death.

The Avatar of the Swarm, and the host behind it, surged forward, plasma blades activating, and the Death Scream suddenly surging in power, added to by the Avatar's own voice, shouting curses at them as it came forth, black eyes ablaze with black fire...

OOC: Jordaxia's role in this conflict is ended. All of its remaining ships will be considered returned to Jordaxian space. The Xanthalian gel previously engaged with that fleet have been set on a path to Renku.

IC: The two remaining Xanthalian hokali at Danika are destroyed by the insistent fire of the enemy fleets, leaving their few escape pods to drift into a high orbit of the nearby planet while the shuttles set a course for Renku. Only the space stations orbiting Danika remain, and they are silent, their few remaining passengers and crew not daring to draw the fire of the enemy towards them. Xanthal's defense at Danika has been abandoned, leaving only its allies to either continue the fight there or join the Xanthalians in falling back to Renku.

At Renku, remnants of the Godulan nemesis' brief appearance are wiped up quickly, their effect blunted by superior Xanthalian point defense and evasive maneuvers, and, ironically, the appearance of the Northrop-Grumman fleet, which provides cover for witty pilots. Those targeted at the planet are quickly destroyed, either by orbiting stations or when they impact the outer energy shell shielding Renku from assault. Nevertheless, the sheer number of explosives deployed by the enemy is an attack of such momentum that even blunted, it does considerable damage. Over fifty ships are lost, predominantly hokali unable to maneuver to safety and overwhelmed by the barrage.

The initial attack by Northrop-Grumman on the Xanthalian fleet inflicts significant damage as well: the Labule forces, having left their strategic positions to defend against the Heighliner, are almost completely vulnerable for several seconds as their crews rush to retarget weapons and move into more advantageous positions. Many ships are heavily damaged, many others are destroyed. Only frantic evasive maneuvers protect the Xanthalians from incurring much greater damage. All told, the enemy attacks at Renku reduce the fleet to 115 hokäle, 389 jĕle, and 112 lĕsöe. The single rĕpolĭn class ship in the system is also destroyed. Fortunately, the quickness of the Labule’s ships and well-drilled crews work to the survivors’ advantage. It takes less than five seconds for most of the Xanthalian ships to get a bead on their new targets; seconds more for them to find formations and mount a counterattack. The fleets that have been at a silent truce since the attack began are joined in battle, and the breaking of the peace is met with all the force the Labule can muster.

Along with antiproton cannons, over two thousand space-time mines are launched at the enemy from close range, leaving little time for evasion and point defenses to weaken the barrage. They find targets on the front lines, disabling or destroying most of them in moments. Those mines trailing behind move on to find their marks in the thick of the NGASF. The jĕle are right behind them, dashing past the outer ships to conduct their signature attack from within the Northrop-Grumman fleet itself. The Labule, what some would call a primitive fighting force, tears into the enemy who has violated its homeland with a vengeance.

The much reduced New Dornalians, with only about 10 Zaitsevs, 1 Drama Casserole class vessel, 75 Mao Zedongs, 75 Lin Biao IIs, and no Dengs, did what they could to consolidate around the Relief Party, which moved to and over them, firing four volleys totalling 100 Conventional torpedoes into the Balroggan ranks while they moved, and used tractor beams to try and marshal the remnants into one cohesive, manueverable group.

A good half of the fleet was infected, and unlikely to be resusitated right then and there. The biggest fear was the subversion of the Potemkin like at Jurai--would it be used against them? Or merely eaten? Either way, those crews not involved with trying to slow or halt the infection by hitting the power transmission cores tried to reach the escape pods.....

Many of the survivors were semi-functioning and on manual controls, as it was, only half or less of the survivors were uninfected, the rest were facing some kind of issue with the Kythons, the Marines, Acolytes, and engineers aboard still fighting back somehow.

Mbutu, being the only reachable man with authority, took command and prepared to evacuate to Renku--he also called for further reinforcements. The call for further reinforcements would take some time to reach JRCCC, but until he could magically kill the Kythons, the best thing to do was to play it defensively and wait for whatever could be spared. He ordered any Gracies that could be reached to turn on the power and consolidate with him. Those that had shut off the power turned it back on, and began consolidating around him, notwithstanding the infections, and they all began moving with the Relief Party. The infected were kept at a distance from the uninfected, in case the infected proved to be too great a liability.

The fighters and Gundams kept on firing, trying to keep to Gauss Miniguns and conventional torpedoes depending on the fighter, as energy seemed to have little effect. Still, the situation seemed desperate, their ranks were getting thinner, and despite the mass number of ND fighters and Gundams, it was getting risky, and Mbutu ordered them to withdraw with the fleet to Renku.

In the retreat, the survivors continued to try and shoot back, firing six vollets of 400 conventional torpedoes into the midst of the Balroggan and Godulan fleets, while using timed bursts of Gauss Minigun fire to prevent enemy ordinance from getting too close.

--------------

The Acolyte cringed at the scream for a brief moment, then shrugged it off, threw the lesser Kython beings back with his Force Throw, and then proceeded to block incoming hits with his lightsaber. He called out for assistance....

...Then, as if by luck, the power turned back on. The Law's Gracie had recieved the command to turn power back on and consolidate around the Relief Party. At that moment, onboard Drone Guns flipped down, and opened fire upon the Kythons in general for about fifteen minutes, before retracting and shutting off to prevent subversion.

This occurred all over the Law, and the Drone Guns joined the Marines and Acolytes eager to repel the enemy. Meanwhile a squad of Marines came up from behind Achaedus, and opened fire with Gauss Rifles upon him, aiming for his head.

The Kythons were all thrown back, save for the Avatar, who pushed through seemingly unaffected before the drone guns began opening up... of course, when it was realized what was happening as each Kython was cut down, many would suspect that using the internal defense mechanisms might not have been such a good idea.

Each Kython Impaler popped like a balloon as it took on more fire than it could handle, splattering infection all over the interior walls and immediately starting a propagation process of its own. The Avatar himself took many a hit before splattering in a similar manner, but instead of dismay, it went into oblivion... laughing. As the Kython matter splattered in all directions, any time a Kython died, some of it would get on the marines that had scragged it, initiating infection processes on the marines themselves.

It would have happened anyway. Infections on armor would be easily enough removed, but for those who got splattered on exposed flesh, the pain would be atrocious, like getting splattered with an acid that expanded as it dissolved the unfortunate soldier's skin.

With power back on, the primary infection blotches doubled in their growth speed and started reaching further into the ship, absorbing more and more of the vessel's matter as it spawned more and more impalers and... another Avatar. This one was different from the first, maintaining the human characteristics of the winged creature that had been annihilated previously, but instead of wings and the curious body makeup, this one had a series of strange discs on each major joint of its body, thrumming with power and causing arcs of electricity to course across its body.

This Avatar looked around for a moment, grinned, then floated off the ground and moved further into the ship, calling out...

You did not think it would be that easy to remove our presence, did you?

With the marines now dealing with numerous new infections on themselves or the corridor walls, even a goodly portion of the infections taking down the drone guns that had caused them initial consternation (as they were exposed at the time of use), the Kython Impalers did not wait, scampering into the ship ahead of the Avatar, on ceilings, walls, ventilation ducts...

Outside, the infection itself was working quite diligently to overwhelm the engine block...

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In the space battle, the Godulan Strain continued to harry the Dornalian fleet at point blank range like lampreys, slicing into enemy vessels with their energy discs, pummeling them with continuous streams of explosive shardbolt fire in volumes sufficient to make the gauss miniguns seem like six-shooters. Aiming more and more infectious shardbolts at afflicted ships in order to hasten their absorption.

Slaymasters had no compunction whatsoever about intercepting torpedos, not caring one bit about their own survival as they were quite focused on initiating infections on very nearly everything in sight now. The propagation process had begun and the Kythons were bloody determined.

On the Oliver Law, this became quite apparent when the largest patch of infection receded into the ship slightly, putting what appeared to be a great dent in the ship itself, and a fully formed Slaughterking emerged from the blotch, immediately detaching and roaring off into the melee.

Such an occurrence would start repeating itself as primary blotches on other ships grew in size and started eating away more and more at the enemy vessels...

In victory came the swarm...

Three alchemists, Rock, Paper, and Scissors, have been struggling for the last half-hour to grab a sample of the black infectious material that now covered almost the entire hull of the Ankylosaur. Finally, they hit upon fusion-cutting a chunk of black-crusted inner hull and suspending it in a forcefield over a diagnostic transmutation circle. Then they clapped their hands, built up some energy and placed their hands on the outer circumference of the circle. Lines of energy crackled and a line went from the forcefield to the circle to a computer, where a list of what elements makes up this black infection would hopefully be displayed...

The Kythons were all thrown back, save for the Avatar, who pushed through seemingly unaffected before the drone guns began opening up... of course, when it was realized what was happening as each Kython was cut down, many would suspect that using the internal defense mechanisms might not have been such a good idea.

Each Kython Impaler popped like a balloon as it took on more fire than it could handle, splattering infection all over the interior walls and immediately starting a propagation process of its own. The Avatar himself took many a hit before splattering in a similar manner, but instead of dismay, it went into oblivion... laughing. As the Kython matter splattered in all directions, any time a Kython died, some of it would get on the marines that had scragged it, initiating infection processes on the marines themselves.

It would have happened anyway. Infections on armor would be easily enough removed, but for those who got splattered on exposed flesh, the pain would be atrocious, like getting splattered with an acid that expanded as it dissolved the unfortunate soldier's skin.

With power back on, the primary infection blotches doubled in their growth speed and started reaching further into the ship, absorbing more and more of the vessel's matter as it spawned more and more impalers and... another Avatar. This one was different from the first, maintaining the human characteristics of the winged creature that had been annihilated previously, but instead of wings and the curious body makeup, this one had a series of strange discs on each major joint of its body, thrumming with power and causing arcs of electricity to course across its body.

This Avatar looked around for a moment, grinned, then floated off the ground and moved further into the ship, calling out...

You did not think it would be that easy to remove our presence, did you?

With the marines now dealing with numerous new infections on themselves or the corridor walls, even a goodly portion of the infections taking down the drone guns that had caused them initial consternation (as they were exposed at the time of use), the Kython Impalers did not wait, scampering into the ship ahead of the Avatar, on ceilings, walls, ventilation ducts...

Outside, the infection itself was working quite diligently to overwhelm the engine block...

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the space battle, the Godulan Strain continued to harry the Dornalian fleet at point blank range like lampreys, slicing into enemy vessels with their energy discs, pummeling them with continuous streams of explosive shardbolt fire in volumes sufficient to make the gauss miniguns seem like six-shooters. Aiming more and more infectious shardbolts at afflicted ships in order to hasten their absorption.

Slaymasters had no compunction whatsoever about intercepting torpedos, not caring one bit about their own survival as they were quite focused on initiating infections on very nearly everything in sight now. The propagation process had begun and the Kythons were bloody determined.

On the Oliver Law, this became quite apparent when the largest patch of infection receded into the ship slightly, putting what appeared to be a great dent in the ship itself, and a fully formed Slaughterking emerged from the blotch, immediately detaching and roaring off into the melee.

Such an occurrence would start repeating itself as primary blotches on other ships grew in size and started eating away more and more at the enemy vessels...

In victory came the swarm...

Now the Gracie aboard the Law killed the power once more, and the Marines and Acolytes fought in the dark, hacking and shooting at whatever Kython infection was around. Gauss rifle shots, grenades and flames were thrown liberally everywhere there were Kythons: ducts, melees, etc.; it was fortunate all Marines wore full NBC suits and thus were protected to some extent from infection, though they'd be hit eventually. But things were now frustratingly difficult. Crew were being infected, but medical reached the best and shot the worst cases.

Thus, using reserve power to establish command and send a signal to the fleet to do likewise, hot plasma was vented into the most suspect areas via the manuevering thrusters and other vents (especially the engine block) while personnel were evacuated to secure areas, such as escape pods and cargo bays via transporter. After the venting was continued for five minutes straight, it was ceased, Gracie ready to do it again.

Meanwhile, those with infections who could do so did likewise as above.

Shardbolt and lightdisc hits notwithstanding (two Maos were taken out, three Lins too, and many more injured), the others fought on. The survivors, meanwhile, who were taking damage, fired torpedo shots into the waves of shardbolts and detonated them, and also added in more torpedoes (conventional and antimatter, 160kg worth) into the waves of Slaymasters and the rest of the Strain as well. The Gauss Miniguns continued firing into the Shardbolts, the fleet firing to stay alive. Just for kicks, they also threw out their own excess hot plasma into the enemy ranks too.....the ND Fighters and Gundams stayed out of the way and tried to hang back, also dumping fire into the Strain in general via attack runs. Their Anacondas ensured they'd have a goodly supply of torpedoes, as long as their reactors stayed online.

----------

The message for reinforcements reached JRCCC, and they debated what to do. Things were serious, the Kythons were really beating on their ships.....

Of all the times to be late to a battlefront, this was seemingly the worst time. The last remaining forces of the Socialist Republic had completely withdrawn from Danika and the remaining allies appeared to be in dire straights as well. A number of ships appeared to be infected as the first part of the Abh fleet pulled up near the rear of the Dornalian lines. Debris from destroyed ships either infected or not were everywhere. A grisly scene indeed.

Colors, images, and sound all blended together in a brief moment as the intercommunication links came online to reveal Admiral Gaf'ton. "Admiral, it appears the Dornalians need help. I recommend that the destroyers be brought up to take some of this pressure off while moving Rambirds out to cover the flanks. I would appreciate it if you could get our artillery ships in place and ready to fire a volley to deal with some of these Kythons."

Gaf'ton was already fast at work establishing links with their ships and bringing each one online. Time seemed to be of the essence at the moment and that was something they didn't have. "We should have artillery ready in a few moments. Recommend that you get damaged Dornalian ships to retreat behind your line. If we can establish a solid line of fire, then we can begin swopping our ships in and out of the battle to give each ship some rest and to make repairs. My detachment will cover the rear at the moment while you move in and start replacing some of their ships on the line."

"Yes sir." The communication link ended giving way to gortesque images of the battle outside. New shadow destroyers moved up behind the Whitestars for added firepower. Weapon systems came online while turrets activated and swivelled around to bear. Gunstars were held in check for the time being until all could be made ready. Kiern've turned his attention towards the battle at hand and tried to contact Dornalian ships. "Dornalian fleet, sorry we're late but we ran into some old friends. We're here to take the pressure off of you for some time. Recommend that you retreat behind our line to make necessary repairs. The Imperial Admiral's fleet will watch over while we hold the line against the scum."

"Yes sir." The communication link ended giving way to gortesque images of the battle outside. New shadow destroyers moved up behind the Whitestars for added firepower. Weapon systems came online while turrets activated and swivelled around to bear. Gunstars were held in check for the time being until all could be made ready. Kiern've turned his attention towards the battle at hand and tried to contact Dornalian ships. "Dornalian fleet, sorry we're late but we ran into some old friends. We're here to take the pressure off of you for some time. Recommend that you retreat behind our line to make necessary repairs. The Imperial Admiral's fleet will watch over while we hold the line against the scum."

Mbutu then replied, "Roger, Admiral. We need the break anywho."

Mbutu then cried out: "Attention all units who can hear me. Pull behind the Abh lines. We will provide assistance to any who needs it. But for God's sake, pull back!"

Thus, they got moving behind the Abh lines. Using tractor beams jumping from ship to ship, and for the uninfected, engine power, they moved quickly behind Abh lines. The infected were moved back quickly, given priority over all others due to their preferential treatment by the enemy. All the while, they kept up their old pattern of hot plasma dumping and torpedo/Gauss Minigun attack into the enemy....

Amidst the blaring claxons and flashing red warning lights aboard the Gasparini, power conduits and other critical components began to ignite and at times rupture, sending pieces of metalwork through paneling and into the corridors. Meanwhile, those same corridors were already beginning to become hazy as dense grey smoke began to pour out of the ventilation systems, causing the crew to cough violently and stumble about as they rushed between compartments to contain the situation.

Caught up in the middle of this chaos, the Chairwoman ducked into a nearby alcove in an attempt to keep clear of the falling debris and concentrate on her options. She knew that getting off of this vessel was a priority at this point and the easiest and fastest way was to conjure teleportation between the Gasparini and the John Knudsen Northrop. She shut her eyes and held her arms out, mumbling words from an arcane language as she attempted to block out the noise surrounding her. Above her, the bulkheads began to creak and groan as the vessel shook violently from the spacemines of the Xanthalians. Then, a shower of sparks fell upon her head and caused her to mumble even faster. Time was growing shorter for this vessel, and she knew it and wanted to escape as soon as she could.

It wasn’t long before a pipe broke loose from its fittings and crashed through the ceiling of the alcove. There it struck the Chairwoman in the head, creating a large and now heavily bleeding gash. The force rendered her completely unconscious and sent her falling to the floor with the pipe landing on one of her legs, fracturing the tibia, but then rolling off.

Now, throughout the corridors, crew members ran about as the claxons blared intermittently with the sounds of a computerized voice that constantly repeated, “Warning. Power core buffer failure in three minutes. Evac immediately.”

As one of the enlisted men ran towards his escape pod, he stumbled over something soft lying beneath the dense smoke that covered the floor. He stopped for a moment to see if it was one of his injured crewmates and bent down to have a closer look.

“Oh, shit!” he cursed when he saw that it was the Chairwoman.

Knowing that there was little time to get medical attention for her, he lifted the fairly light elf up into his arms and quickly hurried down the corridor to where one of the available escape pods was located. These black pods weren’t that large and often gave those in them the feeling that they were inside a casket. But the size was necessary to ensure that there was room on the vessel for more pods. The crewmember placed her inside of one and pressed the button for the pod to eject.

Out of the side of the Gasparini, the Chairwoman’s pod bolted out with its light shields holding back some of the space debris created from the destruction of fifteen of the Ancient, nine of the Daedalus, and three of the Hailstorm class battlecruisers. Nearby, the MAC turrets and ion cannons still continued to fire from the slightly damaged battleships and the remaining functioning battlecruisers in addition to firing a full volley of five hundred antimatter torpedoes. Behind the front lines, the corvettes began to dart about between the battlecarriers firing upon the jĕle with their light Plasma Projector Cannons (PPC) as the Gattling PPCs lining the sides of the two battlecruisers wound up and began to strike at the enemy vessels in short but quick bursts.

Meanwhile, as the escape pod began to swing towards the Northrop-Grumman fleet, the power core of the vessel from which it came detonated along with the weaponry inside, striking the pod and sending it spinning out of control towards the Xanthalian fleet and the planet below.

Now the Gracie aboard the Law killed the power once more, and the Marines and Acolytes fought in the dark, hacking and shooting at whatever Kython infection was around. Gauss rifle shots, grenades and flames were thrown liberally everywhere there were Kythons: ducts, melees, etc.; it was fortunate all Marines wore full NBC suits and thus were protected to some extent from infection, though they'd be hit eventually. But things were now frustratingly difficult. Crew were being infected, but medical reached the best and shot the worst cases.

Thus, using reserve power to establish command and send a signal to the fleet to do likewise, hot plasma was vented into the most suspect areas via the manuevering thrusters and other vents (especially the engine block) while personnel were evacuated to secure areas, such as escape pods and cargo bays via transporter. After the venting was continued for five minutes straight, it was ceased, Gracie ready to do it again.

Meanwhile, those with infections who could do so did likewise as above.

Shardbolt and lightdisc hits notwithstanding (two Maos were taken out, three Lins too, and many more injured), the others fought on. The survivors, meanwhile, who were taking damage, fired torpedo shots into the waves of shardbolts and detonated them, and also added in more torpedoes (conventional and antimatter, 160kg worth) into the waves of Slaymasters and the rest of the Strain as well. The Gauss Miniguns continued firing into the Shardbolts, the fleet firing to stay alive. Just for kicks, they also threw out their own excess hot plasma into the enemy ranks too.....the ND Fighters and Gundams stayed out of the way and tried to hang back, also dumping fire into the Strain in general via attack runs. Their Anacondas ensured they'd have a goodly supply of torpedoes, as long as their reactors stayed online.

----------

The message for reinforcements reached JRCCC, and they debated what to do. Things were serious, the Kythons were really beating on their ships.....

The interior weapons suddenly started having a harder time affecting the Kythons. With the arrival of the newest Avatar, a strange field of energy had activated around all of the drones, deflecting grenade blasts and bullets. Some Kython impalers still fell to concentrated fire, but these numbers were exceedingly few, as the Kythons were now quite angry.

You think we are so easy to defeat? You vent plasma on us? You flick the power on and off like an inquisitive child? Perhaps it is time you understand something. We OWN this ship now, and we shall sail it as WE please.

At that, the entire ship shuddered as the infection, already covering half of the ship's exterior and demonstrating a significant dent in the vessel's superstructure after having sent out a few more Slaughterkings to join the fighting, accelerated its progress by sending tendrils into the ship, pushing through bulkheads like so much tin-foil by disintegrating all that stood in their path. These tendrils reached out and interlocked, swiftly forming a lattice of tendrils that thickened and flexed, wrenching the ship's entire form as deck after deck began to glow green with the infection.

Another wrench. More lattices...

They arrived in engineering, latching onto the main power cores almost instantly... severing all connections and disintegrating them without delay.

The ship stopped cold. Anchored. Not even the tractor beams would budge it now. Although it was held fast, it did start to reorient itself, bringing what appeared to be its un-infected side to display against the newly formed Abh-Dornalian front.

Wretches, you know nothing! These guns! These bullets! These contrivances of man! We were once like you but we have grown. We have expanded. We have evolved and you are the ones who deem us non-sentient. We mourn your death but revel in your slaughter, you ARROGANT wretches.

The Avatar stood in a corridor, under assault by many Dornalian marines, unperturbed as the bullets and bolts pinged off into the walls... the increasingly green glowing walls. It levitated a couple inches from the floor, and arcs of electricity coursed through it as a notable dent appeared in the bulkhead. It came forward, the dents approaching as well with a horrid screeching, and more Impalers right behind with plasma blades at the ready.

We shall exact our revenge on those who failed us in our time of need. We shall MAKE you pay for your cowardice. We shall MAKE you atone for your crime. Our loss carries to you, O Dornalian friends! What we lost due to your negligence shall be requisitioned in blood and flesh and iron.

Another shudder as the lattices flexed again... and again... and again. Increasingly powerful. Increasingly violent. The Kythons were hungry.

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The Kython vessels outside had been more swiftly replenishing their forces, refreshing themselves in the face of those ever so aggravating enemy reinforcements. The infected enemy ships had now been spewing Slaymasters and Slaughterkings with disturbing rapidity, as any good infected vessel should do.

Prepare to initiate stage-two combat protocols. If they seek a fight to the finish by calling in reinforcements, we shall insure that they understand exactly what finish this fight will have...

STAY CLOSE TO THEM. DO NOT ALLOW THEM TO FORM A FRONT. NOT UNTIL *WE* ARE READY.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

For the enemy fighters and gundams, there were no attack runs. There could be none. They were now subjected to ramming attacks by the far more maneuverable Slaymaster fighters. Even as they died more came from the infected ships to replenish the ranks. They could not be tailed, as they would routinely bound away at inhuman angles, daring the enemy to follow them.

The Kythons themselves were almost impossible to target, keeping exceptionally close to enemy vessels while bands of Slaymasters latched onto enemy vessels with their mono-filament blade legs and conducted the amusing process of ripping off every single weapons emplacement they came across. They jammed torpedo tubes. They created hull breaches. They opened up like vulcan turrets at enemy fighters that got to close.

The Slaughterkings were the same issue of proximity, with more pressing concerns of firepower. Light-disc and Charged Shardbolt found more and more use as more and more ships began to succumb...

Here I am, Your Rocket Queen, I might be a little young but honey I ain't naive! Here I am, your Rocket Queen, I mi-

"Turn that shit off, we've got WORK to do."

"Aye sir. We do indeed."

"Are the new loadouts ready?"

"Yes sir, all Gunships are fully loaded. We are ready to deploy as soon as we hit the system."

"Five minutes. All we have to do is wait another five minutes..."

*Five Minutes Later*

A small fleet of Solari carriers and escorts appeared, no more than 80 strong, and with only 3 Battleships, it was more intended to deal with a single threat than it was intended to win the battle. The two dozen Destroyers, dozen Cruisers, half dozen Heavy Cruisers, and mass of Carriers were almost the entire remaining naval force of the League. A large portion of it was occupied with dealing with Mationbuds, and the remainder of the fleet was dedicated to home defense, mostly screening units, and a pair of Dreadnoughts. Everything else had been committed to one purpose. Destroying the Kython swarms. It would soon become obvious just how that would work, in a few minutes. When they all deployed their gunships, and opened fire at the Dornalian vessels...

OOC: 25 days of Yukatania's inactivity. Too long. Time to kill stuff.

it was time to move. It had been too long since they had tasted the tang of battle, had slaughtered with impunity, and had felt death rise on the wind. That, and the Kythons were really quite friendly, and probably those who were closest in function to the Maker-Mind, apart from the Maker-Mind's forces itself.

We arrive, Kythons. I will know you as you will know me. We will know the destruction of others, and there will be rejoicing in blood

A rift opened. Red light spewed forth from it, as the fleets of the Maker-Mind prepared for their entrance. They were to come to this place, and to kill. They had been travelling, and now their journey was ended. The force that had been assembled was unlike any assembled before - the worlds of the Maker-Mind had been scourged to create such an armada, and the ability to rebuild was shattered, as worlds had died to provide the energies needed.

It was mammoth, and it comprised what could be considered a majority of the Maker-Mind's fleets. Also, strangely enough, it was all a silvery-grey, no other colour even showing in the armada at all. The majority of the fleet was comprised of one of two shapes; a perfect sphere, or a razor-sharp blade.

Seventy thousand tiny drones, twenty thousand fighters, three thousand frigates. And, most of all, the seventy-two shape-shifting cruisers. They poured out of the gaping, bleeding hole in reality, swarming out like ants from a bloody anthill. It was not a fleet to be ignored, and, in truth, it was the greatest contribution to the war. A war, the Maker-Mind had determined, would end in the end of the enemies it so desperately sought to slaughter, and, as such, warrented a massive fleet..

OOC: It's going to take them quite some time to come out. Forces are going to be pouring out of my rift five-ten minutes from now. Seeing as Yukatania's super-fuggin' inactive, I've decided to focus on different priorities. Like sending in half my fleet for a bit of mindless slaughter.

Total Numbers: Blade of Battle(Drone) - 72,500
Scythe of War(Fighter) - 9,430
Whirling Death(Frigate) - 1050
Battlesphere(Fighter) - 9,570
Warsphere(Frigate) - 875
Instrument of Cleansing (Cruiser) - 72

Essentially, my forces are fairly weak individually, and they work, in a way, like Kythons, being able to split, and join together, although we're not really big on infections, or extradimensional travel. Our strengths are in numbers, generally, and.. well, to those with inquiring minds, our weaknesses should hardly be difficult to probe.

The Xanthalian fleet, now forming into a half-sphere between the enemy and Renku, continues to chip away at and be chipped away at by the ships from Northrop Grumman. The battle between the jĕle and the corvettes is an interesting one, the Xanthalian attackers seemingly content to continue focusing their antiproton cannon fire on the easier targets offered by the Corporation's larger ships, using their laser cannons to fight the more nimble corvettes, using their own impressive maneuverability to make a clear shot as difficult as possible for their antagonists. Taking advantage of superior numbers, a few crews, mostly of the jĕle not under attack by the Northrop-Grumman navy, abandon their targets to chase after the corvettes already occupied with another jĕl. As the first jĕle begin to lose their defensive shielding, a new tactic emerges: many crews of stricken vessels set a course for the nearest viable target and use their failing ships as giant missiles.

Siri O'Neill's escape pod isn't the only one to suffer problems in the aftermath of the initial destruction caused by the Xanthalian counterstrike. Unfortunately, the Xanthalian forces are much too busy to mount rescue operations. Demonstrating extraordinary courage and heroicism the crews of sixteen civilian vessels, mostly light transports, deploy from facilities orbiting Renku to intercept the errant pods, which are threatened with immediate destruction if they hit the planet's shield. They are the last hope for these unfortunate survivers. Each one has only enough time to retrieve one pod before the capsules hit the shield. The captains pick their targets and move to dock; but the Chairwoman's pod is only one among many, and nobody comes to her aid.

Dornalian ships were quickly ushered back behind the lines and under the firing protection of near-ready artillery flotilla. However the difficulty came in the decision making process of what to do with infected Dornalian ships. Should they be destroyed along with any crew members left alive or should they let the crew members fight to the last while more Kythons continue to pop into existance? It was a decision that was not releshed nor was it wise to create more enemies while already fighting an entire alliance. Ultimatly the admiral deferred the decision to the Dornalian commander. "Dornalian commander, this Admiral Gaf'ton. You seem to have a Kython infestation problem on several of your ships and they are adding to the Kython numbers. We need your permission to destroy the ship and end the threat of a growing enemy. There is also a new enemy that has arrived. We've fought them before and if you can send a barrage of fire in their direction, we will greatly appreciate it. I'll be sending all of the technical data we have on their mode of attack shortly."

On the front lines while Kythons were busy toying with remaining Dornalian forces, Abh vessels had steadily encroached to optimum firing range. Black turrets swivlled about, missles were fueled and ready for launch, and targeting solutions were taken to stem off the first line of enemy Kythons. "Alright boys, give them hell. Open fire!"

Shockwaves from the pulse cannons rocked destroyers and monitors alike as they began their barrage accompanied by intense fusion energy streaming across the galaxy along with fusion nuclear missles. Green beams of Gravimetric discharge erupted as constant beams danced in the night. THe destroyers stayed back behind the Whitestars while the more agile ships took the lead to be the rocks against the waves.

Keirn've steadied himself as the battle began. Lamia stood near him with his typical black sunglasses on. Not really a figure of moral support there. His kind was always a bit strange. "Communications, is there any way we can get a list of the Socialist's reported dead or missing?"

The expression on her face wasn't promising. "It would be difficult at best. With the confusion and constant falling back and judging by their communication capabilities, I would seriously doubt that the Socialist Republic has compiled a list by now."

"I see. Keep me updated."

OOC: The Mindset, I'm posting this here in case I continue to not be able to get through to you via IM. I need to know the status of your fleet at Mirfak, and I need to know what became of your B and C fleets. I will make a final check on September third. If that information remains unreported, your participation in this thread will be terminated.

Ultimatly the admiral deferred the decision to the Dornalian commander. "Dornalian commander, this Admiral Gaf'ton. You seem to have a Kython infestation problem on several of your ships and they are adding to the Kython numbers. We need your permission to destroy the ship and end the threat of a growing enemy. There is also a new enemy that has arrived. We've fought them before and if you can send a barrage of fire in their direction, we will greatly appreciate it. I'll be sending all of the technical data we have on their mode of attack shortly."



Mbutu winced at the thought...still, he recognized that amputation might be required to save his fleet from certain death. Indeed, the very notion of New Dornalian vessels being mere food for somebody else's war machine was bad enough, but the insidiousness of it all made him shudder. He hated this. And he felt JRCCC would reprimand him later. But he would have a good reason.

He then radioed back to Gaf'ton, "You may kill the infected ships. Judging by the spread of Solari fire, they are already halfway there...."

Indeed, the Solari move had been indiscriminate, and though Mbutu had ordered the ships to spread out, and avoid as much of the fire as possible, many of his vessels took hits anyway. It was tough stuff, many of the ships that absorbed the fire from the Relief party survived, but the survivors did not do as well, as did the infected; they took damage, and at least six vessels perished. The effects of the torpedo hits, so close to the New Dornalian position at the time, rocked their vessels, though the damage was relatively minor.

All the while, Mbutu's men began experimenting with novel tactics, such as using transporters and dumping antimatter torpedoes and even the odd Gauss burst directly onto their foes. They still had antimatter....

-------------

As this occurred, JRCCC opted, from the reports, to go about the operation carefully. If the Kythons were that bad, then they did not wish to compromise more new Dornalians in the effort. As it was, two of ND's best ships were compromised. Any more contributions to Xanthal would be discreet, and very well thought out.

Thus, it was decided to send in the next wave of ships, led by 50 Prochkhorovka IIs, and 50 Mao Zedong IIIs, plus 50 Lin Biao IIs, in a delayed fashion. First, they would be equipped with Firefox Force-based Cloaking Mass-Production Kits. That would not take long. Then, they would be sent on the perilous several-hour journey to Xanthal, cloaked...

OOC: The Mindset, I'm posting this here in case I continue to not be able to get through to you via IM. I need to know the status of your fleet at Mirfak, and I need to know what became of your B and C fleets. I will make a final check on September third. If that information remains unreported, your participation in this thread will be terminated.

Cut the dude a break. He's at a wedding.

They immediately kicked into high gear to save their comrades. Lurching out of Bosun FTL behind the Balroggan positions, they moved into a loose crescent line, moving forward as fast as possible with sublights. They kicked their shields into high gear, and fired six rapid volleys of Demolisher Gun and Antimatter Torpedo fire into the rear of the Balroggans.

Meanwhile, uninfected fighters and any uninfected ships left opened fire with all of their ordinance upon the Kythons.


“Admiral, I have several ships exiting from some sort of a probability jump behind us. They are assembling into a crescent position and turning to face the rear of our ships.”

“Ready the Ion Cannon to fire. Try to get as many in the shot as possible. I want multiple targets.”

“Yes Sir, Avatar carrier adjusting her heading to put them at her back. Battleships readying to turn but holding for your mark.”

“Launch fighters and have them head toward the conflict. Ready Grav Torps and fire them forward and program them to circle back at the enemy. They will think we are attacking their forces below but we are just launching an attack on them. As soon as we fire, I predict they will in response.”

“Ready to fire Sir.”

“Launch torpedoes and fighters.”

Hundreds of torps were shot into the void and hurled themselves toward the beleaguered fleet below. A thousand Proteus Fighters left their launch tubes in the two carriers and they quickly disappeared into the darkness of space.

“Sir. I have multiple launchings.”

“Prepare Shields and Armor for impact. Fire all weapons at the ambushers.”

Wave after wave of missiles shot forward from the line of ships intending to strike the Imperial vessels in the back. The large guns began to fire their massive beam weapon at the imperial ships.

“Sir, we have Entropy signatures. They are firing Warp Cannons at us.”

“What?”

Then the energy hit the ships. The Dimensional Shielding diverted most of the raw energy away from the ship, the armor taking the brunt of the remainder of the damage. Parts of the Reactive Armor floated about the ships like a halo of shrapnel. Almost all the damage had been absorbed by the defenses, That is not the thing to worry about when you use Warp Cannons. The Entropy is…

Reality warped and twisted around the ships. One of the battleships began to grow green fur, another was covered with red eyes, each looking around for something to eat. Aboard the Avatar Carrier, the Admiral was trying to ignore the door to the bridge singing “Henry The 8th I am”.

The Warp penetrated the ships. The Childer began to act sluggishly, but the Ta’Nar seemed to fill with power until their forms crackled with it. It was as if they were back in their glory days at home in the Warp again, hunting daemons in great masses slaying hordes of them in a single swoop. The ancient energies transformed them to a time when their powers were not diminished by the presence in the Materium, instead they were again able to warp reality with their own abilities.

The only problem was they were in a battle rage.

Their only targets were the ones they remembered firing at them.

With a command, the Ta’Nar willed the fleet to jump the gulf between them and their enemies. The ships made the jump, appearing within meters of the New Dornalia. The two fleets were now literally intertwined as Ta’Nar were about to begin to board the interlopers for hell of a good hunt…


OOC: Both MM and Chron noted a resident of The Warp should gain power if they were in the blast of a Warp Cannon. The Ta’Nar evolved there as pure Psi creatures, Psi being the power of The Warp. Only these two Battlegroups are affected by this and only temporarily (a few turns).


-------------------------


Meanwhile, the crew went to work on the Main Transmission Core. The Thur'Thag notwithstanding, they wished to sever the core anyway, or at least try. They would try all methods to prevent the monster that had eaten the Potemkin from gaining total control.

Thus, some stood watch, while others went to work, using a combination of brute strength and chainaxes to remove what used to be panels leading to important systems, and then threw grenades, high explosive and phosphorus based, into the holes to try and destroy the threat. If that didn't work, then they used the chainaxes and even lightsabers and the Force to try and do some damage.


Back at The Potemkin, the Kythons were flying around like a plague of locus. Some were skimming the hull dragging their Dimensional Blades leaving eight deep cuts as they flew down the hull. They were trying to mob the fighters in groups of 4-6 each. They were attacking anything that moved. Suddenly the singularity missiles came into the fray, activating at the last moment. Blackness blossomed in their ranks, consuming those unlucky to be targeted but those that were targeted were awfully close to other ships and fighters. Nearby Kythons rode the gravitational distortions away from the activated singularities.

Aboard the ship, the crew was trying to use brute strength or tools like chain axes. They found out that anything touching the mysterious and obnoxious metal would soon begin to discolor. This meant the chain axes, crow bars, or even flesh and gloves. The panels they could open were a jumble of wires and other uninfected equipment. The slow conversion could be seen creeping across the wires and the circuit boards.

The Shipmind watched as they attacked almost any panel with Infection on it. The Shipmind directed the infection to spread across several panels that were important for controlling the reaction in the core. When they destroyed the panels, they would be getting a surprise soon afterwards, but not before they realized their mistake..



The swarm fighting the CoreWorld fleet watched as they disappeared into Hyperspace. Without a command, the entire horde returned to the Imperial ships and clung to the hulls. Moment later, the ships Uplifted with their passengers into T-Space and changed location. The fleet bear to where Abh had disappeared also Uplifted. Soon all three would return elsewhere on the battlefield.


OOC:

CW and I were talking over the results from his actions and took care of them on MSN.


As New Dornalia tried to move their fleets, they launched a further volley or three of torpedoes at the Kythons swarming around their ships. Several of the Kythons were struck and a few were even destroyed outright. The remaining Kythons just swerved around the new obstacle before renewing their attacks. The debris of shattered Kython simply floated until it struck something, adhering to it's surface.

Within T-Space, the Fleet Admiral looked over the situation. There were at least five national fleets fighting the Kythons. The Abh, New Dornalia, The Horde, Xanthal, and Coreworlds. The last had left but sensors indicated a new Threat on the edge of the system. The AI had recognized the ships as belonging to TSL, another GFFA member.

That was when Godular upped the stakes by upgrading to Protocol II.

“Send the order for lifting the battle restrictions by 30%. We will follow Godular into Protocol II.”

“Y-Yes Sir.”

In all the time the Empire has had Kythons, Protocol II was never needed and he certainly did not want to encounter Protocols III or IV. He hoped he never lived to see that day.

All across the battlefield it seemed the Kythons paused , for just a moment.

The Godulan Strain infections, indeed the Kython swarms themselves, were more than aware of the Abh advance. While the other Kythons had deigned to move away from firing range, the ships that had been halted by their infections had been turned so that the sides bearing the least infection were oriented towards the enemy front. As soon as enemy fire was registered the Infections broke up into various vessels and bolted away in the cover of their former Dornalian hosts, using the cover of the half-eaten Dornalian vessels blowing up under enemy fire to reduce incoming attrition during their egress. Slaughterkings and Slaymasters fell under the shards were immediately collected and made off with.

Blessed be the foresight of Legion. We knew they would develop guts eventually.

Unfortunate that it should be before our meal is completed. Oh well, dinner plates as shields. It was indeed wise to turn so the unaffected parts of the ships were directed towards the Abh front.

How are our numbers?

Nothing that another Gun of Archona can't seal another Slaughterstar for. The attrition from the Dornalians was great, but their ships were also quite large. Even 45% infection has provided us a near total regeneration of our forces. That attack hurt a bit, but I daresay they were focused too much on killing the infected ships. We might have a hard time infecting more, but their hesitation allowed us to reap full benefits from the infections.

The two remaining Guns of Archona fell together as the Slaughterkings converged on them like a pack of sharks. Crafting the familiar form of the original Slaughterstar. The death scream faded slightly as the distance increased between the two forces.

The Kython dreadnought hummed slightly, its main structures pulsing as it began forming several dark shardbolts unlike any other... black, but coursing with energy almost impossible to characterize...

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Meanwhilst, on the edges of the system, along two separate vectors, existed a pair of heighliners. One of these had many pockmarks and craters in it, and the other consisted of two separate chunks of the original vessel, having been snapped in half by an antimatter explosion. They had been sailing in their own laid-back fashion since their passage through the Abh and Dornalian fleets. While hostilities between the Godulan/Balroggan Kython force and the first Abh force continued, several Slaughterkings had taken the opportunity to break off and probability jump to these free-floating hunks of concrete... and initiate Infection/Propagation.

After their passage to and through the enemy forces, they had ceased to be a priority... they were too far away now to register on close range sensors as they had been traveling for quite some time. Such unfortunate negligence...

OOC: Was only gonna do one, since the Heighliner I threw at Abh had been snapped in half, it still has substantial material in the general area to satisfy my needs, but when I looked back to confirm things, I discovered I'd never mentioned the Dornalian heighliner falling apart or anything of the sort, only shuddering slightly as the Dornalian fire hit it. Amusing how that works.

Leave, fools who serve other fools. We have arrived. You may yet postpone your inevitable death, and the sweet ravaging of your minds. There will be a reckoning for your existence, and the reckoning will be paid in blood.

The message shimmered out across the system, subtly cutting the ESUS forces out from receiving it. It was a warning. The Maker-Mind did not often give such things.

Indeed, it did not expect the enemies to leave. It expected them to stay - and to die. As the endless swarm of silver came out of the rift, each flashing briefly as it did so, it prepared the fleet into a true formation. Spheres of spheres formed, swirling into formations that were alien, and strange.

We kill others. Send the blades.

The message echoed throughout the fleet. As it did so, the ships already there prepared to make another jump. They had scarcely touched the space where they were before they moved once more.

They would arrive near the Solarin forces. A thousand fighters. Then another thousand. Two thousand, now. Thousands of drones would follow - smaller ships, for the moment. It would be seen whether or not the enemy would destroy them. And, as the tiny ships slipped through the cracks in reality to reach the Solarin forces, the larger ships began arriving.

The Warspheres, the intricate, strange, yet not large ships. But, then again, their size was not their power. Their power was derived from their connection with the Maker-Mind, and the amount of power they could gain from it. They were prepared to kill, and, they too began to move.

The forces that had just arrived would face the forces that had just arrived. Of course, they had no doubt that the enemy had the jump on them, in quality. Then again, did not quantity have a quality all of its own?

They appeared without fanfare underneath the Solarin ships, firing blasts of crackling red energies, almost like a red thundercloud shooting out blasts of brighter lightning, which moved at the speed of light towards the Solarin ships. The energies they used were inimical to matter - they would damage shields, but, against defenses which were gravitic in nature, or against sheer masses of armor - there was going to be one hell of an explosion.

The Potemkin

The crews were busy trying to access the controls of the Power Transfer unit when suddenly the floor under their feet began to buckle and shake. Everywhere there was Thur’Tahg, it was bubbling and boiling as it suddenly became animate. This was also happening on all the other ships that were infected.

On the hull, thousands of Kythons began to tear themselves from the bulk of the infected ship. The swarms were heading off into space headed for every direction as the ship was pealed layer by layer. The crew space was revealed within seconds and the atmosphere vented into the void, no longer contained by the walls of the infected ship. Deck by deck was stripped of Thru’Tahg as Kythons used it to form bodies and fled into space. The one Slaughterstar in the area also fled with the Balrogga Strain Kythons, creating a large area eerily void of them.

Soon only a bare skeleton remained, the few areas not yet infected. The crew who had masks were floundering helplessly in the zero gravity. Those who didn’t, well, they were not needing any anymore.

Near one of the free-floating reactors, one of the lucky ones noticed the reactor was still functional but almost all the containment devices were disabled by loss of equipment. All eight Singularity Reactors were floating free of their moorings, energy coursing through them.

Crews on the other infected ship will also discover their powercores were dangerously close to failing, critically overloading.

The Dornalians did not weep when the Potemkin fell apart; they were too busy fighting on to care, though they felt bad. Mbutu himself simply ordered singularity torpedoes to be teleported inside the Balroggan-infected vessels, to end their misery. This was done, and detonated.

Meanwhile, another set of epic teleporter manuevers was done, dropping 1700 torpedoes and materializing bursts of Gauss Minigun fire on top of the Godulan lines, before doing the same to the Balroggans, albeit with less ordinance, but 650 torpedoes.

-------------------

Meanwhile, the JRCCC had finished modifying the ships at the Karl Liebknecht Shipyard at Mars, now all that it took was the trip, as the forces entered Bosun Jump. Mbutu, by this time, was informed that reinforcements would come, but only in several hours' time. He cursed the time delay, and could only say, "Well, at least they're getting it done right...."

OOC: I hope you don't mind this post ND but finding threads at the moment is a big enough pain as is. I guess the rest can assume this is what happened after he finishes or before.

IC:

Gaf'ton could understand the reluctance with which to destroy your own vessels. Many of his had already suffered the same fate in dealing with the Kythons however it would be far worse to let enemy vermin have your vessels. The order was quickly transmitted to Keirn've who executed orders with deadly efficiency. Some of the Dornalian ships were already too far gone for Abh fire to put them out of their misery but others still had time while more Godulan Kythons continued to pop like pimples. Neutron beams and pulse cannons pummeled into remaining Dornalian ships while artillery ships finally finished arming and regaining targeting attributes.

"We've lost enough time preparing for an attack. Redirect all ordinances into enemy Kython formations. Suck on this, bastards."

To any onlooker, it would have appeared that a wall simply formed infront the rear Abh line. That is until it split horizontally down the middle. These torpedoes were smaller than the mobile mines but this fact only made them faster, more agile, and caused their patterns to be even more eradict if possible. They came in groves of tens of thousands as they targeted any Kython in front of Keirn've's line or the Balroggan Kythons that tried punching through to retreating Dornalian ships.

Whitestars up front flipped and banked heading back closer to the destroyers while more fusion beams covered their manuever. Pulse cannon turrets pivoted on their wings to also fire against their backs.

Yuuzhan'tar

With the Emperor's absence, Warmaster Jareth had taken command of the Yuuzhan Vong fleets. Standing in the main briefing room in the Imperial Military Command building, the Warmaster stared at a map of the Mirfak system, with reported enemy positions indicated with red and reported friendly positions in blue. Beside it was a tally of all available Yuuzhan Vong ships. One looked bad, the other good.

The Yuuzhan Vong, always a militant people, had a very sizeable fleet. Even that was an understatement. Over the course of the current conflict, only a few hundred Yuuzhan Vong ships had been deployed, all to establish an FTLi cordon of the Salmath system. That left thousands ready to deploy to anywhere they were needed. Reports out of Mirfak were not good. Allied fleets were taking a pounding. Clearly something needed to be done.

Turning to his closest aid, Jareth asked a terse question. "What fleets are currently on 1 hour standby?"

The aid consulted a small datapad then answered. "4th and 5th Expeditionary Fleets. They were just placed on standby two days ago so are still fresh. 3rd and 7th are recovering and 2nd and 8th are next on the roster."

Jareth considered this information. Each fleet amounted to about a thousand vessels. 4th and 5th Expd. Fleets were older models, dating to before the reforms of Shoon-mi Esh. Even so, they were they ships that had terrified a galaxy so many years ago and certainly not a force to be shrugged off. "Send word out to the commander of those fleets. They are to jump to Mirfak immediately. We'll pull this one out of the fire yet!"

And so it was done. The entire force was already on standby, which meant they were sitting in deep space far away from any gravity wells that would delay their departure. As soon as their target and go code was given, the fleets reoriented towards Mirfak, instructed the dovin basals on the coordinates and jumped off in unison. At the other end of their jump, there was no indication of what was coming.

Mirfak

They came out of the bleak blue/whiteness of hyperspace without warning. Two thousand Yuuzhan Vong warships of various sizes materialized beyond the outer planet of Danika. Immediately, sensors detected the enemy fleets ahead of them. The jump was perfect, they were directly behind the outer echelons of the enemy fleet. However, because of gravitational anomalies in the system they were further away than expected.

Even so, the fleet group trained it's weapons on the enemy and launched coralskippers. The enemy was there, directly ahead and still within weapons distance. Having jumped in battle formation, the fleet immediately began moving in. Coralskippers screamed ahead to engage any enemy fighters and to harrass larger ships.

A minute after arriving in the system, the entire fleet fired a massive salvo of plasma cannon fire at the enemy as one. Yammosk war coordinators kept the entire fleet perfectly synchronized. Every ship knew what the others were doing and where they were. It allowed for devastating united salvoes of fire like the one the enemy was now subject to. Thousands of superheated plasma screamed across space towards the enemy ships ahead. Some of the plasma cooled enough to semi-solidify into lava. Even so, this was just as dangerous. Yuuzhan Vong lava cannon shots stuck to enemy ships like glue and melted holes in hulls.

Behind the first volley came an even more terrifying weapon - grutchins. Thousands upon thousands of them. Grutchins were tiny insectoid killing machines able to withstand the vacuum of space. Only six feet long, the tiny little menaces were voracious eaters. Their food - enemy vessels. Massively corrosive acid dripped from their chomping mandibles as the grutchins swarmed enemy vessels intent on eating through the hulls to get to the delicious crews inside.

Amidst this havoc came a certain realization amongst the enemy - the Yuuzhan Vong had arrived.

The Dornalians did not weep when the Potemkin fell apart; they were too busy fighting on to care, though they felt bad. Mbutu himself simply ordered singularity torpedoes to be teleported inside the Balroggan-infected vessels, to end their misery. This was done, and detonated.

Meanwhile, another set of epic teleporter manuevers was done, dropping 1700 torpedoes and materializing bursts of Gauss Minigun fire on top of the Godulan lines, before doing the same to the Balroggans, albeit with less ordinance, but 650 torpedoes.

-------------------

Meanwhile, the JRCCC had finished modifying the ships at the Karl Liebknecht Shipyard at Mars, now all that it took was the trip, as the forces entered Bosun Jump. Mbutu, by this time, was informed that reinforcements would come, but only in several hours' time. He cursed the time delay, and could only say, "Well, at least they're getting it done right...."


"Too late..." The admiral of the Solari fleet froze in horror as Dornalian ships disappeared in masses of singularities. "Screw it. Fuck orders, fuck the directives we got, fuck it all with fucking no regrets. Open fire, all batteries, target the Dornalian ships and their general vicinty as we advance. Wipe them out..."

Thousands of tiny Gunships had been released from the carriers at this point, and the gap between the fleets was closing in short order. Now, in terrible coordination, an entire fleet unleashed its rage and hate. 882,400 tons of seemingly solid metal ripped away from the fleet, the shells already reaching c-fractional velocities. Now that simple wall of lead had started at just "medium" range, no more than a few hundred thousand kilometers. As soon as it hit 30,000 kilometers, each and every shell broke open, spilling its deadly cargo of double ought buckshot into the void. Weapons designed to destroy fighters en masse were now employed against another swarming foe, and the mass of Kythons all over the Dornalian vessels wouldn't posibly have time to dodge, not when only a madman would fire on his enemies, as well as his allies...

Already underneath the Solarin fleet, and attacking voraciously, the ships continued to swarm around them. It was no secret of the Maker-Mind that, the more ships in an area, the harder it was to open a viable temporary-rift. Thus, once you reached a certain level of ships in a certain volume, you had to look at sending more ships elsewhere.

So the ships appeared above the Solarin fleet. Above, and below. Of course, these directions were relative. In essence, they were relative to where the Solarin fleet was not firing. It made not being killed by the streams of buckshot they sent out that much easier.

Run, little shipminds. You will know fear, before the end. Or perhaps I shall not even grant you that..

The psychic message was as weak as it was innocous; using mindpowers to overwhelm other races merely gave them a clue as to your capacities. That, and the fact of the matter was that mindpowers were painfully slow, and painfully inefficient as opposed to other things; such as throwing nuclear blasts at people. And there was the fact that half the races in the universe could probably equal them in psionic combat, which didn't help either.

But, then again, with enough power, it was easy enough to augment psychic messages. And so, the message was sent.

And, of course, along came the blasts. They were the first 'wave' of attack, if you will. They were generally ineffectual against any form of energy shield, but were terribly effective against gravitic shielding, armor, and fleshy meats. And, if they failed, along came the standard energy blasts. Of course, there was a lot of backup plans, but, generally, they all didn't have to come into effect.

As the fleet swarmed around the Solarin forces, tiny red flares opened up in space, as more, and more fighters swarmed out. It was surprising that they had not noticed the tiny blades and spheres surrounding them, both above and below - they redoubled their attack, the blades flying in perilously close to the Solarin ships, one of the blades whirling in, and smashing against the larger ship, tiny silvery remnants swept away by space.

The remnants flared, and red lightning consumed them. A tiny flicker of energy was left behind, heat and light the legacy of ravenous madness. The Maker-Mind's forces paused for a moment. It was always interesting to see what the enemy would do next.

Already underneath the Solarin fleet, and attacking voraciously, the ships continued to swarm around them. It was no secret of the Maker-Mind that, the more ships in an area, the harder it was to open a viable temporary-rift. Thus, once you reached a certain level of ships in a certain volume, you had to look at sending more ships elsewhere.

So the ships appeared above the Solarin fleet. Above, and below. Of course, these directions were relative. In essence, they were relative to where the Solarin fleet was not firing. It made not being killed by the streams of buckshot they sent out that much easier.

Run, little shipminds. You will know fear, before the end. Or perhaps I shall not even grant you that..

The psychic message was as weak as it was innocous; using mindpowers to overwhelm other races merely gave them a clue as to your capacities. That, and the fact of the matter was that mindpowers were painfully slow, and painfully inefficient as opposed to other things; such as throwing nuclear blasts at people. And there was the fact that half the races in the universe could probably equal them in psionic combat, which didn't help either.

But, then again, with enough power, it was easy enough to augment psychic messages. And so, the message was sent.

And, of course, along came the blasts. They were the first 'wave' of attack, if you will. They were generally ineffectual against any form of energy shield, but were terribly effective against gravitic shielding, armor, and fleshy meats. And, if they failed, along came the standard energy blasts. Of course, there was a lot of backup plans, but, generally, they all didn't have to come into effect.

As the fleet swarmed around the Solarin forces, tiny red flares opened up in space, as more, and more fighters swarmed out. It was surprising that they had not noticed the tiny blades and spheres surrounding them, both above and below - they redoubled their attack, the blades flying in perilously close to the Solarin ships, one of the blades whirling in, and smashing against the larger ship, tiny silvery remnants swept away by space.

The remnants flared, and red lightning consumed them. A tiny flicker of energy was left behind, heat and light the legacy of ravenous madness. The Maker-Mind's forces paused for a moment. It was always interesting to see what the enemy would do next.

And from the bellies of the Solari ships roared a response. First doens, then hundreds, and finally thousands of missiles raced through the void, seeming to splinter and divide well short of their targets. In truth they were releasing as many as ten independently targeted submunitions, each large enough to wreak untold havoc if it actually made contact with an opposing vessel. Secondary turrets tracked and came about, seeking to bring the larger vessels into their line of fire, before spitting their slugs into the teeth of the enemy. PD armament moved with unmatched speed, tracking fighters and unleashing torrents of fire to sweep them from space. The fleet may have been surrounded, but only their most massive guns were truly in use, and only a fool uses every trick in the first few minutes. The shields held, even after being glanced by a fighter, they held, strong and sure against the bombardment. Designed to survive the worst nature could devise, and man could warp, they would hold for some time still...

The first Warsphere moved across. The ships were not big, on the scale of things. Indeed, to other capital ships, they were little more than fighters. Of course, when the ship you used didn't have any mass whatsoever, and its existence in reality relied entirely on a field that distorted reality.. well, it sufficed to say that these were capital ships indeed.

And it attacked. A single glob of silvery matter was shot at the ship nearest it. Of course, it was rather..compressed . It was matter. With just the tiniest touch of antimatter. Well, an equal amount, to be exact. Of course, you weren't looking at much space between these nucleii, and electrons. Thus, you were looking at a fair bit more firepower. These little 'torpedoes' tended to be fairly effective against enemy shields, especially when they were all but invulnerable to the standard bit of PD fire. After all, if missiles were taken down by powerful PD fire, just build tougher missiles.

And then the missiles swarmed towards them. And then the drones attacked them. Tiny attacks of pinpoint accuracy, slaughtering missiles with nearly painfully obvious ease. The point-defense fire was a bit more worrisome.

In fact, a lot more. Before the drones figured out what was going on, they were swept away, hundreds crushed in the initial waves of the mass drivers. And the beam guns.. the lasers.. they simply glanced off the shields. The shields flickered for an instant, and a drone or two died... and most ignored the attacks.

The fighters, on the other hand, lazily moved out of the way of the mass-drivers. Inertia had its advantages, and this was one of them.

The fighters swept around again, all focusing on one target, the one which the torpedo was heading for. Their shields were strong; they'd grant the enemy that. But attrition had something going for it - more frigates, more fighters, and more drones were constantly moving in. Further and further away from the enemy, true, but, inevitably, numbers would overcome..

The Kythons, both Balroggan and Godulan, eyed the situation with relative confusion from their vantage point a few AUs distant from the firing line the Abh had formed in relation to the Dornalian vessel wreckages. The Godulan Strain Slaughterstar still crackled with energy as it kept forming up the interesting new Shardbolts, and the Balroggan Strain Kython masses milled about, just as wierded out as the Godulan Strain was, but relatively unperturbed as they went about joining together into battleships of their own.

The Abh forces had fired torpedos, many thousands of surprisingly agile little things. The Dornalian forces had fired torpedos, no real distinguishing feature in their particular attack other than them using a tad more than usual. The Solarin forces had opened up with some strange form of shrapnel attack on the Dornalian derelict vessels, unfortunately destabilizing the many Dornalian singularity cores that had been left behind by the Balroggan Strain's hurried departure... and sucking up the other fleets' torpedos, not to mention putting the various enemy fleets in the relatively volatile position of being too close to the cores themselves.

Huh.

The gravitic ramifications had to have been tremendous.

Indeed, the Abh and Dornalian attack would have been a significant inconvenience to both Kython forces, if the Solarin forces hadn't brought forth a very large number of singularities that even now soaked up veritable clouds of the aforementioned torpedos and brought the hideous onslaught down to an amusing trickle, fundamentally ignored even by point-defense mechanisms as the Slaughterstar simply channeled all weapons energy into its shields and took the brunt of the attack without complaint.

Both Kython Strains raised a proverbial eyebrow at the whole situation while they charged up their weapons and prepared for the next move.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Achaedus.

Yes, Baron?

Would you care to offer insight as to why they focused so much attention on the Dornalian derelicts when we are way over here?

No sir, I would not. I am as surprised as you are. They seemed to... not notice that we had vacated the area. The best I can offer is sensor lag, the Solarin forces did move in quite swiftly, the effects of relativistic gamma may well have hid our departure until the last second.

But they focused so much fire on the derelicts.

You say that as if it somehow alters my assessment.

I suppose so. I admit that even my well-traveled mind has trouble wrapping itself around this oddity. Relativistic effects only account for so much.

My assessment is my assessment. How you or the Legion interprets it is their prerogative. I don't analyze battles, I just win them.

And a good job you do, to be sure. Be advised, you have hostiles incoming. FTL signature suggests a Vong strike force of significant size.

Bloody hell. This is getting annoying. Its to the point now that even a loss on our part would mean we hurt the Federation forces far more than they hurt us. I find myself surprised that they seek so fervently such a tacitean solution to this assault.

Are you complaining?

Not one bit, we came to inflict pain. We are inflicting pain. Even with our annihilation will we show a fundamental victory. Perhaps not in taking the system, but in relieving the Galactic Federation of significant military assets before we commence assaults on other worlds or a second assault on this one, if such is proven to be necessary.

Indeed. Carry on. Do try to force a surrender though. We do not want to seem entirely without mercy.

With every ounce of my being, Baron. I will bring them to their knees or break their legs in the attempt.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

And so it would be...

The first Warsphere moved across. The ships were not big, on the scale of things. Indeed, to other capital ships, they were little more than fighters. Of course, when the ship you used didn't have any mass whatsoever, and its existence in reality relied entirely on a field that distorted reality.. well, it sufficed to say that these were capital ships indeed.

And it attacked. A single glob of silvery matter was shot at the ship nearest it. Of course, it was rather..compressed . It was matter. With just the tiniest touch of antimatter. Well, an equal amount, to be exact. Of course, you weren't looking at much space between these nucleii, and electrons. Thus, you were looking at a fair bit more firepower. These little 'torpedoes' tended to be fairly effective against enemy shields, especially when they were all but invulnerable to the standard bit of PD fire. After all, if missiles were taken down by powerful PD fire, just build tougher missiles.

And then the missiles swarmed towards them. And then the drones attacked them. Tiny attacks of pinpoint accuracy, slaughtering missiles with nearly painfully obvious ease. The point-defense fire was a bit more worrisome.

In fact, a lot more. Before the drones figured out what was going on, they were swept away, hundreds crushed in the initial waves of the mass drivers. And the beam guns.. the lasers.. they simply glanced off the shields. The shields flickered for an instant, and a drone or two died... and most ignored the attacks.

The fighters, on the other hand, lazily moved out of the way of the mass-drivers. Inertia had its advantages, and this was one of them.

The fighters swept around again, all focusing on one target, the one which the torpedo was heading for. Their shields were strong; they'd grant the enemy that. But attrition had something going for it - more frigates, more fighters, and more drones were constantly moving in. Further and further away from the enemy, true, but, inevitably, numbers would overcome..

"Target the surrounding ships, all guns, and fire for effect, gunships and destroyers load with shot, solid slugs for all larger units. Target at captains discretion."

Before the strikes had been rather limited, masses of secondary batteries still blazed with fury, but now the huge main guns of the Solari added themselves to the fray. The trio of battleships trained their turrets each on a different target, and let loose with thousands of tons of solid slugs, each weighing a staggering 600 tons. Carrier guns wielded similar guns, but bore only 4, instead of the battleships 9. On the other hand, they were much more numerous, and the void surrounding the fleet quickly filled with an even greater mass of metal. The cruisers and other lighter units had smaller shells, but they were still heavy enough to wreak untold havock when they slammed through the opposing ships shields. And with the different cruisers bearing 12 and 9 guns respectively, it was small wonder they threw nearly as much as their larger bretheren.

Point defense systems blazed with fury, all three battleships brought their numerous point defense batteries to bear against the approaching torpedo, and finally, just moments before it would have impacted, shattering the battleship it was targeted against, the torpedo detonated with titanic, but significantly reduced fury. The battleship Nagelring shuddered from the energy released, and her shields fully lost their integrity, but the battleship remained intact, hammering away at the incoming vessels.

Gunships and destroyers pointed their batteries into the midst of fighter swarms, and cut loose with massive charges of 00 buckshot, but it wasn't goiing to be enough. The ships would simply be swarmed under, and there was no way they had the weight of fire to stop it. Without significant reinforcement, like the fleet that had been sent to Mationbuds, there was no possible way to hold their line. They put in a desperate call for backup through to Solari command. They got an ambiguos response, and a promise of several "relief ships" No specified class, no specified numbers, just "several relief units are en route." Several relief units would not be enough unless they were all Superdreadnoughts.

Reality warped and twisted around the ships. One of the battleships began to grow green fur, another was covered with red eyes, each looking around for something to eat. Aboard the Avatar Carrier, the Admiral was trying to ignore the door to the bridge singing “Henry The 8th I am”.

The Warp penetrated the ships. The Childer began to act sluggishly, but the Ta’Nar seemed to fill with power until their forms crackled with it. It was as if they were back in their glory days at home in the Warp again, hunting daemons in great masses slaying hordes of them in a single swoop. The ancient energies transformed them to a time when their powers were not diminished by the presence in the Materium, instead they were again able to warp reality with their own abilities.

The only problem was they were in a battle rage.

Their only targets were the ones they remembered firing at them.

With a command, the Ta’Nar willed the fleet to jump the gulf between them and their enemies. The ships made the jump, appearing within meters of the New Dornalia. The two fleets were now literally intertwined as Ta’Nar were about to begin to board the interlopers for hell of a good hunt…


OOC: Both MM and Chron noted a resident of The Warp should gain power if they were in the blast of a Warp Cannon. The Ta’Nar evolved there as pure Psi creatures, Psi being the power of The Warp. Only these two Battlegroups are affected by this and only temporarily (a few turns).




OOC: My truant response to this.

IC:

The Marines and Acolytes prepared the internal defenses, sealing blast doors and readying internal Drone Guns and forcefields to slow or even isolate the movements of their foes. Marines took up positions in corridors, and before long, large portions of the ships were locked down.

The New Dornalians couldn't help but notice the odd nature of the ships that they faced. Some had fur. One had a mouth nibbling at one of their vessels; superheated plasma was vented to try and get that one off. Hotter than previous attempts, this would be risky, damaging both the venter as well as ventee.

The depletion of the artillery attack was slightly annoying to the old admiral as his eye twitched slightly. Still, it was the randomness of war that seems to happen every now and then. There were always more projectiles. They only needed a little time to reload which would take less time than the original setup.

Fools. They are using the larger-projectiles

The message was streamlined across the fleet, and the larger ships moved across, but even further away. It was the buckshot that was having the most effect; slamming into the pitifully weak drones, crushing them easily. However, the larger projectiles hit a single ship, at most. A fighter here, a drone there. The massive main guns, ironically enough, were not doing a tenth of the damage of the point-defense.

Attack shieldless-largeship

The fleet prepared to swarm. The Nagelring would not last long without its shields; the matter it was composed of... it sufficed to say that it may not have been antimatter they were shooting at the ship, but the damage it would do would see it close enough to antimatter. An unshielded ship was little more than prey for the Maker-Mind's forces.

The ships further away from it simply attacked, crackling bolts of red lightning seething towards the Nagelring. Morale was something the enemy possessed. Breaking them of such a habit would aid their endeavours.

Meanwhile, drones and fighters died alike, and learnt. The point-defense buckshot was their enemy. They had effective lightspeed weapons. The enemy did not. They began moving. Away from the enemy. Of course, it wouldn't make them invincible. But it would cut the casualties - and despite the uncaring nature of the Maker-Mind, it was hardly wasteful.

The original Warsphere to have rifted across, however, was less lucky. A massive slug caught it dead-on, shattering its fragile atoms in nothingness. But then there were more. And more torpedoes. Only one per ship; the red blasts with which they carved out their claim in the universe were cheap to use, torpedoes were not.

Of course, the mammoth, awe-inspiring Wreakers of Cleansing had not yet arrived. And with good reason. The ships were the true capital ships of the Maker-Mind, the ships that repaired others, the ships that formed the basis of an invasion. The ships that were far, far more irreplaceable.

However, as the fight raged on, a single Wreaker moved. It did not rift as other craft did, with tiny winks of red light, and the universe swiftly sealing their transgressions against physics behind them. It shimmered, bolts of red lightning pouring off it, a single bolt obliterating an unlucky drone.

And then reality tore. With a wrenching thrust, a hole was punched through the fabric of reality to move it. The rift that had been created was unnatural - but it was constant. It was somewhat distracting, and would give those who looked at it a helluva headache. But the Wreaker did more than that. It blatantly violated what should be, and anyone with feelings.. was going to have more than one hell of a headache. Indeed, anyone in close proximity would be rendered unconscious. That is, of course, presupposing that there were no nice shiny energy shields blocking the emanations.

But, as it moved, it shifted. Shapes were discarded within an instant, the Wreaker showing the true reality of the Maker-Mind - the ever-shifting thoughts, the endless hatred.. and the madness. It moved according to no pattern, it did not change to suit what was needed. It shifted as if it were writhing, like a silvery, ethereal snake in unimaginable torment.

And it hated. It had a mind. And the mind was devoted to mountains of hate, it could see the rivulets of blood coming out from those it wished to slaughter, it felt the presence of life like a hateful, painful assault upon its very nature. And it responded in kind.

The red lightning that had shot out of the other craft was nothing compared to this. It was a mammoth blast of lightning.. headed for another of the Maker-Mind's craft. A fighter, to be exact. It blasted into the fighter, annihilating it. And the lightning spread, dancing from one craft to another. But those after the first were not destroyed. They were enhanced. As they surrounded the enemy craft, lightning darted from one craft to another, forming an irregular bowl of lines above the enemy.

It was charged. And then, of course, it fired. Fired, down onto the one ship. The Nagelring. An endless stream of lightning, focused on the one point. The twisting, ravaging madness of the Maker-Mind made manifest in the form of death, in the form of an attack powerful enough to scour a world of its life, focused on a single point.

And, for a brief moment, the Wreaker twisted itself into what was almost a mocking, hateful smile...

The Corporation’s corvettes seemed to be making progress towards their goal so far, taking some of the focus of the jĕle away from the command vessels. With only a few losses so far, they continued their usual weaving in and out between the larger vessels’ hull indentations and struck at the jĕle at every possible opportunity. But while the twin battlecarriers, the John Knudsen Northrop and the Thomas Jones, only lightly rattled from the impact of the Xanthalian vessels slamming into their shields, it was growing tiresome for General Harris, who did not particularly care for the enemy vessels cruising around inside the fleet.

After assessing the tactical situation through her command console, she pondered for a moment before snapping off a command. “Tactical, launch all fighters, now!”

Out of the starboard and port sides of the John Knudsen Northrop, fighters, which had been on standby for some time already, bolted out of the launch tubes of the battlecarrier and pursued the jĕle that were pestering the capital ships. Two thousand fighters in all began swarming around the inside of the fleet, firing their eight medium PPCs and often their gattling light PPCs.

While the fighters dealt with the jĕle, a small swarm of bombers cruised out of the other battlecarrier coupled with a request transmitted by its commander through all available channels. It was rather simple, an un-encoded message asking that the Xanthalians stay clear of the unarmed bombers that were now rescuing any escape capsules that were not immediately picked up by the battlecarrier’s tractor beam. The commander hoped that they would grant the Corporation that request.

At Renku, unlike far-out Danika, Intersection of Loss is in full command. It is not privy to what has been happening at Danika since the Alphashra retreated before the battle commenced. Here, however, it is fully aware of the dangers posed by the enemy. Its communications officers are frantically working to get orders and updates out to the planet and the fleet. The advantage belongs to no one; the Republican and Corporate fleets are evenly matched. In the meantime, Xanthalians are dying. The thanic admiral makes a decision to accomodate his enemy, but not without a price.

"Disköni tĕl tö rĕsi," it instructs.

The bomber group's commander receives a curt reply in text: "You are not authorized to proceed until the NGASF ceases its attack."


Meanwhile, the ships that deployed to pick up escape pods are on course back to the stations they came from. Those errant pods not fortunate enough to have been rescued meet their doom in quick succession, smashed to pieces upon impacting Renku's outer energy shield. A few though are granted a last-minute reprieve from certain death; those with thrusters having just enough power to put them in orbit. The Chairwoman's pod escapes destruction, but doesn't achieve a proper orbit. It glances off the shield and heads towards an orbiting communications satellite. One of the transports, already having rescued an enemy soldier, releases his now-vacant escape pod and chases after its new target, oblivious to the identity of the occupant, its captain knowing only that someone needs his help.

Quite untypical for one of the Corporation’s battlecarriers, especially during a time of war, the main bridge of the Thomas Jones constantly remained quiet even though numerous transmissions and orders were sent and received from its half of the fleet. The only two exceptions to this unspoken rule were the officer manning the communications station and the commander of the vessel himself, Major General Haranisterifar Glorinerell, who seemed to prefer silence and order over the more chaotic (in his opinion) environment of the other vessels in the fleet.

Standing in front of his centrally positioned chair with his hands tucked neatly behind him, General Glorinerell, the first Noldor to ever command a battlecarrier, studied the tactical display before him. His grey eyes moved quickly left to right, watching the movements of the bombers, fighters, corvettes, and the Xanthalian ships that were fighting around him. No matter what was happening on the screen, he did not even appear tense as was his usual quiet demeanor even when the comm. officer spoke.

“General, we have an incoming transmission from the Xanthalians.”

Raising one eyebrow to the man, Glorinerell gently sat back down in his command chair. “Very well, I shall take it here.”

As he steadily read over the rather straightforward text, the general rubbed his chin some as he thought for only a moment before turning back towards the comm. officer. “Comm, transmit an encoded message to General Harris, advising her of the current situation and requesting what my orders are.”

With a few rapid keystrokes, a transmission was sent to the commander of the entire task force, General Harris, who was busy barking orders to her subordinates. She would have missed it if it had not been for her command chair that began to quickly beep then switch to vibrations. Pressing a button on the armrest, the screen in front of her switched from a live video feed to the message that had been sent. She read over it once, then another time before toggling a switch on the other armrest.

“Chairwoman O’Neill,” she called out, intending to have some advice on this matter, and, if need be, permission to pause the attack. “Chairwoman O’Neill.” No reply, just static.

General Harris just stared at the armrest for a moment, debating about what to do. She was unsure of what had happened to the leader. Could she have been killed aboard one of the battle cruisers? Could she have been captured by the Xanthalians? Could she have teleported herself back home like she had done before? None of the answers were there.

“Damn,” she cursed as she slammed her fist onto her leg, aggravated over this.

After rubbing her face some, Harris attempted to settle down by typing out another message to General Glorinerell that would allow him to enact any measures necessary to rescue those people, except for a ceasefire. Upon its completion, she hit the “Send” key and enabled the rarely used but still very useful chat function for the vessel and forced a conversation with her comm. officer.

Gen Harris: Major, I want you to send a message to all vessels
in the fleet individually, using secure channels only. Have the
comm. officers there contact the sensors officers so that they
can scan their vessels for any signs of the Chairwoman. Report
anything they find back to me using this format.

Maj W.H. Ichitan: Yes, ma’am. I’ll get right on it.

Gen Harris: And do not mention this to anyone else or I will
throw you in the brig.

Maj W.H. Ichitan: I understand completely.

Gen Harris: Good…dismissed.


----------------------------------------------------------------

Meanwhile, aboard the Thomas Jones, Major General Glorinerell received the message from Harris and carefully read over it before making his decision. On his command, three hundred fully armed fighters began bolting out of the launch tubes to surround the bombers with the full intent of protecting them from any harm. Along with this maneuver, a reply was sent to the Xanthalians.
I fully intend to rescue those who are under my command
using whatever means I have at my disposal, and I will not cease
this attack unless ordered to do so.

Loss balls its fist in frusteration at the reply. The fools; they would rather continue to fight and die than take a moment to rescue their own and give peace a chance. Options race through the than's mind. The puny fighters pose only a small threat to the bulk of the fleet, which can shoot them down with only laser cannons. On the other hand, those same fighters are a much greater burden to the gels. If they are sent along with the bombers, it will make them easy targets for the line ships and keep them away from the light attack vessels. Yes. "Zolĭsi mĭkkolsăke kĕldräl: şăli ösärkolsăk pi väk lĕnyöe!"

A final warning is sent to Major General Glorinerell: "If you wished to rescue your your soldiers, you would not compromise their safety by refusing to end this conflict. There can be no peace until the NGASF ceases its attack. My offer stands."

The antiproton cannons of the gels continue to bombard the large corporate ships with their shield-draining power, as their laser cannons lash out at the fighters swarming about them. The ultralight craft are no match for the attack ships, but their numbers are proving to be a serious problem. The persistant fire from the Northrop-Grumman navy's larger ships is also beginning to take a toll on the Xanthalian line. In the Xanthalian fleet there are no critical vessels, no flagships, just a steady decline in its numbers as more and more ships fall victim to the enemy's sustained fire. However, new life is being breathed into the fleet as the hokali continue to hang back at a range where energy weapons have limited effect and projectiles are destroyed with relative ease. There they are being resupplied, their hoksa bays filled anew with the space-time mines that so devastated the enemy line in their initial salvo. The lesus and remaining hokals, staying in closer so that they may use their energy weapons as well as mines against the enemy, suffer much greater losses.

Aboard the civilian vessels that had deployed to save the enemy from their doomed escape pods, the rescued soldiers find themselves to be captives, held in the airlocks until they disarm, then bound, searched, and placed under the guard of some vessel crewmembers. Some of them even find themselves on the business end of their own weapons, comandeered by the civilian crews. While most of them finish their retreat to the relative safety of the Xanthalian space stations, Pan-Galactic 216 is just completing its approach to dock with Siri O'Neill's escape capsule.

The middle-aged NGASF engineer already aboard has been stowed in a luggage locker with a few suitcases and bags left by hurried passengers when news of the ESUS attack reached them. Mercifully, the door to the locker is left open so that his guards, a pair of young, burly human men, can keep an eye on him. The Chairwoman is dragged from her pod, her skull marred by a clearly-visible dent, torn skin, and severe swelling that covers most of her face. The weapons are removed from her person and her mangled body dragged to the locker, where she is propped up beside the engineer and left under the watchful eye of the guards.

The Kythons, both Balroggan and Godulan, eyed the situation with relative confusion from their vantage point a few AUs distant from the firing line the Abh had formed in relation to the Dornalian vessel wreckages. The Godulan Strain Slaughterstar still crackled with energy as it kept forming up the interesting new Shardbolts, and the Balroggan Strain Kython masses milled about, just as wierded out as the Godulan Strain was, but relatively unperturbed as they went about joining together into battleships of their own.

The Abh forces had fired torpedos, many thousands of surprisingly agile little things. The Dornalian forces had fired torpedos, no real distinguishing feature in their particular attack other than them using a tad more than usual. The Solarin forces had opened up with some strange form of shrapnel attack on the Dornalian derelict vessels, unfortunately destabilizing the many Dornalian singularity cores that had been left behind by the Balroggan Strain's hurried departure... and sucking up the other fleets' torpedos, not to mention putting the various enemy fleets in the relatively volatile position of being too close to the cores themselves.

Huh.

The gravitic ramifications had to have been tremendous.

Indeed, the Abh and Dornalian attack would have been a significant inconvenience to both Kython forces, if the Solarin forces hadn't brought forth a very large number of singularities that even now soaked up veritable clouds of the aforementioned torpedos and brought the hideous onslaught down to an amusing trickle, fundamentally ignored even by point-defense mechanisms as the Slaughterstar simply channeled all weapons energy into its shields and took the brunt of the attack without complaint.

Both Kython Strains raised a proverbial eyebrow at the whole situation while they charged up their weapons and prepared for the next move.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mbutu quickly ordered all ships that could to raise shields and prepare themselves for the effects of the sigularity, which was violent, unstable, and about to suck up a lot of things. The Relief Party and a good portion of the survivors that could focus power onto shields did so, mimicking the Godulans and surviving the nastiness for them most part.

The situation became more dangerous once they collapsed, and the New Dornalians could detct Godulan weapons powering up. Covered by the Abh for now, they fired antimatter torpedoes at the Godulans en masse. The numbers were great; unlike the Singularities, they had not been leaning on these as much, and the supply was greater. Thus, a total of 900 were sent out, teleported near the enemy Slaughterstar and joined with a similar number of conventionals, allowed to fly into the enemy vessel after they teleported to the SlaughterStar. With 160kg of antimatter aboard each torpedo, it would take the intervention of Satan himself to spare the Kythons, as the torpedoes this time were aimed directly at the Godulan Slaughterstar, area-of-effect seeming to do nothing against the enemy.

------------------

The reinforcements dropped out of Bosun Jump soon enough, shaken out by the gravitic conditions around Danika. They turned their Firefox systems on the moment they got out, and went into cloak. A bit different that standard cloaking methods, these used the Force to not only shield ships from sensors and sight, but also worked to mess with the enemy on the psychic level, persuading them there was no ship there.

They then arranged themselves into a V formation, and then charged ahead, destination Renku. They would try to save their comrades, no matter what it took. They also loaded up their antimatter weapons, and got ready for that...

It was an unexpected silver age. Civil war had decimated the land not long ago, and had indeed destroyed an entire planet’s biosphere and the entire population of that doomed world.

But the country had finally been re-united, under the joint command of the ages old Senate, and a “new” addition to the government, the long-lost true heir to the Emperor’s throne. That and the unexpected and rather surprising economic boom that followed allowed Atlantis to rebound quickly…including the fleet. And they had good reason too…they were bordering Phalanx, who they guessed had still not forgiven them for the Ascendency’s actions.

But Phalanx wasn’t the only power bordering Atlantis that they were keeping an eye on. No…Atlantis kept tabs on every jump node leading away from their cluster of stars. Sol had a hidden former LRR shipyard under Atlantian control in the Kuiper Belt. The jumpnodes in former Zoir space had a smaller outpost and several sensor turrets to search of signs of surviving…anything, really. Zoir was now a forbidding place now that the empire had crumbled and most Zoir apparently extinct.

Elara was a good ally, if not just a little separated these days. However, scouts routinely made trips through that node, as well as trading vessels.

Finally, there was Xanthal. Another ally, although quite removed like Elara had become. Cloaked long-range scouts occasionally made their way through the outer parts of Xanthal’s systems…usually Than, as that is where the jump node led.

It was for that reason that Atlantis discovered the intruders. The war-bringers and their “alliances”. They’re confederations of nations. It was expected that most of them were Terran.

Terrans. A complete oddity in the workings of the universe. They were so low on the evolutionary ladder (although some countries had evolved in Atlantis’s eyes), yet they populated like rabbits. And they were one of the few species completely incapable of uniting. And the complete irony was, if they did…they would own the galaxy, as they made up over 90% of the known population.

Which is why large Terran alliances worried Atlantis. Especially ones on the offensive. And especially those on the offensive in nearby systems.

And most definitely, if that nearby system belonged to an ally.

Paranoid as always (for good reason), the reports from the long-range scouts had prompted the general opinion of “attack”. The Senate voted almost unanimously, and the Empress made her pro-war stance clear. And so the fleet was assembled. Those who were in the reserves were put on standbye, and the vast majority of the new fleet which was usually mothballed begun to get rolled out for their first—and possibly last—assignment.

The second fleet was the first one to be un-mothballed. They would proceed to the uninhabited Avenal system, who’s node would take them to the Than system, and from there…beyond. But they were not leave Atlantian space until the long-range scouts had determined the exact positions of the different forces and the general layout of the war front, and the added forces jumped in to assist as required. For now, they would be Atlantis’s first line of defense against anyone who attempted to take the war elsewhere. Terrans were greedy.

The first fleet would continue its normal duties for the time, as Atlantis’s standard peace-time fleet. Meanwhile, the third, fourth, and fifth fleets would be assembled.

Atlantis would make war on the enemies of Xanthal.


OOC: Than's a system, not a planet, right? I'm pretty sure it is. Anyway, I'll do actual stats and all that shit once I actually enter the war. And I hope I'm not getting in the way. God forbid I do that. ;)

OOC: Atlantean Outcasts, Check TGs

The shimmering of the shardbolts trailed off for a moment as the enemy torpedos materialized, and the Slaughterstar erupted in a storm of entropic shardbolts targeted on the enemy munitions in an attempt to knock them down before reaching the dreadnought proper. Proximity and timing did not work in the Kythons' favor this time, and a great many torpedos impacted the prodigious shielding around the vessel, causing some interesting ripples and displays of light as the antimatter vessels broke through the entropic shielding and struck the ablatives.

The attack trailed off, and the shimmering reinitiated, though a curious crackling of energy began to wrack across the surface of the crystalline ship.

Status?

Shields at thirty two percent. We will not be capable of sustaining another salvo of that magnitude.

Live in the moment. What of our retort?

Munitions fully manifested.

Probability jump calculations completed. The bastards, they haven't even moved!

Be ready. When we move I want everything going exactly as planned. One, Two, JUMP.

The Slaughterstar vanished. As did, surprisingly, the one combatting the second Abh force along with its respective guns of Archona. No fanfare. Not even a blip. They simply vanished.

And rematerialized at odd angles behind the combined Dornalian and Abh firing fronts. One behind and some distance above the ecliptic, the other on the aft to port of the firing line, both quite a distance away from the actual enemy front. A curious arrangement for forces intending harm upon the other, indeed many would find significant amounts of wonderment at the awkward layout of the Kython force.

At least, until the first one opened up with the shimmering shardbolts.

They were fired one by one from left to right in quick succession, directed towards the enemy front in a similar manner. Trails of crackling energy remained in their wake as they streaked forth like massive plasma bolts. The curiosity here was that they were not targeted on any ships, but seemed to be heading towards what could be considered the effective 'middle' of the firing line.

Where they detonated.

Indeed, to sensor readings these shardbolts would have registered as singularity torpedos with some form of aberration in its energy signature. How such would have translated immediately became obvious as each shardbolt blossomed into an expanding shockwave of radiation and anti-gravitic force. For the fraction of a moment that the white hole existed after its creation and before its own inherent nature caused it to explode, the mechanism known as 'Guiding Light' pumped out an anti-grav propulsion of near infinite force, as well as significant amounts of tremendously exotic particles that would wreak all kinds of havoc until they eventually vanished into the universe.

Anything within 250 kilometers of the initial blast would be flattened by the anti-grav pulse. Anything within 1000 kilometers of the initial blast would be significantly damaged and heavily buffeted by the anti-grav pulse (now weakening) and the exotic radiation. Anything within 10,000 kilometers of the initial blast would be lightly damaged and thrown about.

All in all, 10 of these torpedos were targeted upon the Abh/Dornalian line in quick succession, from left to right, at regular intervals.

As the first detonation faded, the second Slaughterstar exploded into activity, the Guns of Archona moving off towards the first Slaughterstar while the second Slaughterstar collapsed into its massive collection of Slaughterking destroyers. The position of the Slaughterstar had provided it with significant The death scream returned with renewed force, adding to the sheer violence of the move. The smaller vessels immediately activated their light discs and roared into the enemy fleet at maximum speed, using the confusion from the blast and the revitalized death scream to close to near-collisions with the Abh and Dornalian vessels and slice them to ribbons, all the while opening up with massive amounts of Shieldbreaker fire, attempting to bring as many enemy vessels into infection range as possible.

The other Slaughterstar followed its horrendous assault up with great beams of shieldbreaker fire targeted on vessels ahead of the onrushing wave of Slaughterkings, while the guns of Archona, still moving towards the Slaughterstar, opened fire on the forces behind the Slaughterking rush with infectious shardbolt fire, targeted on anything that had lost shields in the successive attacks.

It is important to note that these events proceeded in such rapid succession that from probability jump to Slaughterkings roaring through enemy fleet, not even a minute had passed...

A single message went out, repeating something said before:

BURN!

Excruciating pain ripped through the Chairwoman’s head and right leg, compelling the elf to writhe in agony as she suddenly snapped out of her unconscious state. Her body jerked around some, ultimately causing her to fall sideways onto the floor, her head hitting once again. Confused as to where she was, her green eyes darted about the spinning room in an attempt to understand things. None of it was familiar, and even when she thought, nothing seemed to be coming to her mind as to how she got here or what this place was. Her mind was a jumble of thoughts, emotions, feelings, and sensations the most of which was terrible pain. All she felt like doing now was groaning.

But a tired, slightly aggravated male voice echoed in the room, spurring activity within Siri’s mind. “Are you awake?”

She closed her eyes to keep the spinning room from sickening her stomach but still pushed words from her mouth to keep her conscious. “Yes…damn head…hurts…too much.”

With a quick thrust of his two bound feet, the man pushed over one of the passenger’s bags towards her head but fortunately did not hit her even though she cringed, anticipating an impact. “Here, it would be better for your head if you don’t rest it on that hard floor.”

“Thank…you,” she replied shakily as she squirmed to rest her hurt and still bleeding head upon the softer bag. “I don’t…remember…where…are we?”

A resigned sigh was heard, followed by the sounds of a shoes scuffing across the floor as the man slid himself back up against the wall. “A Xanthalian passenger vessel from the looks of it. Nothing overly impressive in my opinion, but we’re still in enemy hands...”

“Oh…damn…” came the mumble, then an accidental movement of her leg caused her to yell out in agony. “Shit!”

The man’s head snapped towards the Chairwoman quickly then back towards the guards standing by the doorway. He was growing even more aggravated with the situation as the time passed and snapped at the guards, “Why the hell are you all standing there?! Can’t you see that she needs medical help?!”

-----------------------------------------------------------------

After being read over, the reply from the Xanthalians was completely disregarded without a second thought by Major General Glorinerell, quite simply because both he had no authority whatsoever to call a ceasefire during this war and had nothing worthwhile to say that could solve this issue of theirs. So he set about recalling those few fighters and bombers that had not been destroyed by the laser fire and transmitted a suggestion back to his superior.

Meanwhile, aboard the John Knudsen Northrop, General Harris carefully scanned through the screen on her command chair, going over the status reports from the fleet. One battleship had been moderately damaged with damage sustained to its forward turrets, loss of its hyperdrive, and one of its ion drives had powered down, while a few others had suffered only a small amount of shield damage.

Finishing up, Harris heard a beep emanating from her console and pressed a button to receive the message from General Glorinerell. She looked over it once and nodded her head in agreement with its contents, before finally she gave the order to the entire fleet. “All ships, ahead full, all weapons fire!”

The remaining vessels in the fleet including nearly all the largest ones save for the damaged battleship began to move towards the Xanthalian fleet as heavy and medium plasma projector cannons, ion cannons, and magnetically accelerated plasma projector cannons from the battleships and battlecarriers lit up the darkness of space with their increasing amounts of firepower. In addition, each one of the torpedo tubes on the vessels fired three anti-matter tipped torpedo for a full volley of almost two thousand five-hundred missiles.

"Grateful punk, isn't he?" one of the guards snorts. "Listen old man, we risked our asses to save yours, so shut the fuck up. This isn't a cruise, and you aren't guests."

His companion places a restraining hand on his shoulder as the first guard tries to step forward. "Easy, Lem; the captain told us to watch them, not beat them up even more. And you," he directs this to Tim, "We've got problems of our own. Be thankful you're still here to bitch about it."

Lem shakes the hand off. "Whatever." He crosses his arms sternly, but doesn't advance again.

"Hey!" A commanding masculine voice reaches them from down the hall. "Get that pod off the ship, we're heading back to dock!"

"Yessir!" A female voice replies, also out of view.

"Yo, Cap," the second guard, the one that had restrained Lem a moment before, shouts, leaning back and looking to his left, down the hall. "This one's pretty banged-up. Might wanna get her to a doctor if you wanna keep her alive."

A faint sound of depressurization can be heard as the Chairwoman's escape pod is released, and the sound of the ship's engines, working hard to get them back to the station and stay out of the way of stray fire. Some pull can also be felt by the occupants, indicating that the inertial dampening system is being strained as well. The pasenger liner is at its limit.


Back in the thick of the battle, the Xanthalian front line is devastated by the renewed assault of the corporate fleet. The sparsely-populated half-sphere falls back and to the sides to escape, but for those in the center there can be no running. A few noble crews set collission courses with the enemy in a final, desperate effort to do damage. Those that can fire what is left of their hoksas, totalling about six hundred antimatter mines. Over eighty ships are lost, almost all lesus. The remainder of the front line is left scattered in the NGASF's wake. The hokals resupplying in the rear position are able to take out most of the remaining enemy warheads from a distance, but they, too, sustain damage; a few even destroyed. But not before they unleash the fruit of their own time reloading; another volley of mines, larger than any thus far at almost two thousand strong, races in an erratic zig-zagging pattern towards the enemy.

The gel have troubles with the charge as well, as do the fighters and corvettes, even with prior warning. Their playing field has become dynamic, and the rate of collisions spikes. The corporate ships also continue to take their toll on the gels, though the gels do their share of damage to their more-nimble but less-armed and -armored nemesis, as well as continuing their persistent assault on the fleet's capital ships.

Fools. They are using the larger-projectiles

The message was streamlined across the fleet, and the larger ships moved across, but even further away. It was the buckshot that was having the most effect; slamming into the pitifully weak drones, crushing them easily. However, the larger projectiles hit a single ship, at most. A fighter here, a drone there. The massive main guns, ironically enough, were not doing a tenth of the damage of the point-defense.

Attack shieldless-largeship

The fleet prepared to swarm. The Nagelring would not last long without its shields; the matter it was composed of... it sufficed to say that it may not have been antimatter they were shooting at the ship, but the damage it would do would see it close enough to antimatter. An unshielded ship was little more than prey for the Maker-Mind's forces.

The ships further away from it simply attacked, crackling bolts of red lightning seething towards the Nagelring. Morale was something the enemy possessed. Breaking them of such a habit would aid their endeavours.

Meanwhile, drones and fighters died alike, and learnt. The point-defense buckshot was their enemy. They had effective lightspeed weapons. The enemy did not. They began moving. Away from the enemy. Of course, it wouldn't make them invincible. But it would cut the casualties - and despite the uncaring nature of the Maker-Mind, it was hardly wasteful.

The original Warsphere to have rifted across, however, was less lucky. A massive slug caught it dead-on, shattering its fragile atoms in nothingness. But then there were more. And more torpedoes. Only one per ship; the red blasts with which they carved out their claim in the universe were cheap to use, torpedoes were not.

Of course, the mammoth, awe-inspiring Wreakers of Cleansing had not yet arrived. And with good reason. The ships were the true capital ships of the Maker-Mind, the ships that repaired others, the ships that formed the basis of an invasion. The ships that were far, far more irreplaceable.

However, as the fight raged on, a single Wreaker moved. It did not rift as other craft did, with tiny winks of red light, and the universe swiftly sealing their transgressions against physics behind them. It shimmered, bolts of red lightning pouring off it, a single bolt obliterating an unlucky drone.

And then reality tore. With a wrenching thrust, a hole was punched through the fabric of reality to move it. The rift that had been created was unnatural - but it was constant. It was somewhat distracting, and would give those who looked at it a helluva headache. But the Wreaker did more than that. It blatantly violated what should be, and anyone with feelings.. was going to have more than one hell of a headache. Indeed, anyone in close proximity would be rendered unconscious. That is, of course, presupposing that there were no nice shiny energy shields blocking the emanations.

But, as it moved, it shifted. Shapes were discarded within an instant, the Wreaker showing the true reality of the Maker-Mind - the ever-shifting thoughts, the endless hatred.. and the madness. It moved according to no pattern, it did not change to suit what was needed. It shifted as if it were writhing, like a silvery, ethereal snake in unimaginable torment.

And it hated. It had a mind. And the mind was devoted to mountains of hate, it could see the rivulets of blood coming out from those it wished to slaughter, it felt the presence of life like a hateful, painful assault upon its very nature. And it responded in kind.

The red lightning that had shot out of the other craft was nothing compared to this. It was a mammoth blast of lightning.. headed for another of the Maker-Mind's craft. A fighter, to be exact. It blasted into the fighter, annihilating it. And the lightning spread, dancing from one craft to another. But those after the first were not destroyed. They were enhanced. As they surrounded the enemy craft, lightning darted from one craft to another, forming an irregular bowl of lines above the enemy.

It was charged. And then, of course, it fired. Fired, down onto the one ship. The Nagelring. An endless stream of lightning, focused on the one point. The twisting, ravaging madness of the Maker-Mind made manifest in the form of death, in the form of an attack powerful enough to scour a world of its life, focused on a single point.

And, for a brief moment, the Wreaker twisted itself into what was almost a mocking, hateful smile...

"Fuck..."

A last spiteful mass of shells ripped out from the Naglering, all converging on the target that would be hardest to miss. Then, it simply disapperaed, destroyed entirely, with no hope of survival for any of the crew. Thousands of lives, snuffed in an instant.

The fleet responded. Guns swiveled, targeting a single ship, and the area surrounding it for a few thousand kilometers. They fired. A single mass of metal, all blanketing one region of space, blasting aside the incoming torpedoes from that quadrant, and hammering down any defenses between them and the Wreaker. Thousands of tons of metal, and all of it was blasting through a tiny volume. Other vessels might be required to sacrifice themselves to save their lead vessel, or they might even simply let it die. In either case, there would be victory for the Solari. They had morale indeed, but they felt other emotions, and chief among them now was rage... No machine could understand the hatred... No machine could understand its folly.

The other Slaughterstar followed its horrendous assault up with great beams of shieldbreaker fire targeted on vessels ahead of the onrushing wave of Slaughterkings, while the guns of Archona, still moving towards the Slaughterstar, opened fire on the forces behind the Slaughterking rush with infectious shardbolt fire, targeted on anything that had lost shields in the successive attacks.

It is important to note that these events proceeded in such rapid succession that from probability jump to Slaughterkings roaring through enemy fleet, not even a minute had passed...

A single message went out, repeating something said before:

Massive damage was sustained by the fleet, and by now, the Relief Party was taking serious hits, having lost two vessels and experiencing general blows to shields and armor, which absorbed a lot....meanwhile, a number of the survivors, six-eleven ships, fell too. Large numbers, considering the numbers of ships left Mbutu could muster. Nevermind the death scream which once more plagued his vessels.

As this occurred, he was Forcemessaged by the reinforcements, which by now had gotten just close enough....they asked what was the matter. He barely recieved it, nearly crippled by the scream, but he responded on a secure channel:

"use....teleporters...antimatter....KILL THEM!"

before he collapsed to begin struggling with the Scream.

The ships in the reinforcement party then detected the Kythons at long range, and they decloaked, charging forward and up to gain a clearer view of the Godulans. The Godulan SlaughterStar was promptly slammed with a total of 1,200 antimatter torpedoes, teleported near it and joined once more with a similar number of conventionals, allowed to fly into the enemy vessel after they teleported to the SlaughterStar's location at point-blank range. The surviviors, meanwhile, returned fire with Gauss Miniguns and torpedo bursts at their unwelcome new neighbors.

OOC: ATTENTION ALL PARTICIPANTS

There have been a number of disputes regarding the rules of this thread recently, a regrettable fact that seems to stem from a mutual lack of communication of each side's conditions and expectations.

Part of what seems to have been lost is my right to ignore forces that are technologically superior to Xanthal to the extent that allowing them to attack Xanthal would destroy the ligitimacy of its low FT technology level. Until this point I have been willing to allow such forces to participate because this war was supposed to provide an outlet for all ESUS and GFFA players to engage if they desired. I had been under the impression that, so long as a player from one side could find a player from the other side that they were willing to do battle with in-character, there was no reason I should stand in their way. However, some have apparently regarded that as a stipulation that, if such technologically superior forces achieved victory over those who would play with them, they would automatically be victorious over all the enemy forces in the system. This was not ever my intention, and is a direct violation of a condition that was supposed to have been relayed by alliance leaders to all participants, but apparently never was. In light of that, I am forced to conclude that the only solution is barring henceforth any forces I deem unacceptable from the thread completely. Damage incurred by those forces thus far will stand, but the forces themselves will be cast out.

Another part of what was supposed to be a mutual agreement, again inadequately relayed, was that players unaffiliated with either alliance should be barred from participation in the war. By inviting Atlantian Outcasts to the thread, I intended to improve the Federation's odds of victory, not knowing that this would bring objection from those players that did agree to the aforementioned rule. Despite having no prior knowledge of this, I respect those concerns and will bar players not affiliated with either the GFFA or the ESUS.

The list of players and forces currently participating in the thread to be barred henceforth follows. This list is based on my own limited observations, and is thus not necessarily complete or accurate. Players from either side are invited to contact me with arguments for additions to or removals from the list. Forces joining after this post will be judged on a case-by-case basis. Nations listed here that wish to send less-advanced forces may be allowed to do so.

-Atlantian Outcasts (all forces)
-Balrogga (all forces)
-CoreWorlds (all forces)
-Gaia Rodina (Org'rimma)
-Godular (all forces)
-Hyperspatial Travel (Instrument of Cleansing types)
-Indra Prime (all forces)
-Kanuckistan (all forces)
-Mini Miehm/The Solarian League (all forces)
-New Dornalia (Warp Cannons)
-Talaax (grutchins)
-The Humankind Abh (Symphonic Fleet)
-Warshrike (all forces)

OOC: Somehow, I feel a level of relief now that I think about this again.

I suggest you present us with a reason why we should accept your "barring" nations from a thread you did not create, rather than simply ignore you and continue with the other nations involved.

I suggest you present us with a reason why we should accept your "barring" nations from a thread you did not create, rather than simply ignore you and continue with the other nations involved.Because I'm the one under threat and nobody else was willing to make balanced rules with me, so I acted alone. Also because if I'm excluded, there's no way you can take my country. Sure you could duplicate it on another plane of the multiverse and declare victory there, but you can't control what happens with my nation and people without my consent. This directive is my attempt to take control of the situation OOC and end the dumbass back-and-forth bickering that has been getting us nowhere.

Because I'm the one under threat and nobody else was willing to make balanced rules with me, so I acted alone. Also because if I'm excluded, there's no way you can take my country. Sure you could duplicate it on another plane of the multiverse and declare victory there, but you can't control what happens with my nation and people without my consent. This directive is my attempt to take control of the situation OOC and end the dumbass back-and-forth bickering that has been getting us nowhere.

OOC: And you decided to do that by proposing somethign even more dumbass than the bickering? You have no right to barr anyone from this thread, you have no right to make such claims. If you didn't want your precious low tech to be compromised, or didn't want to be conquered, then why even take part? Honestly! Sometimes I am amazed at the things people on here are capable of.

We'd be much better simply retconning you, and finding a more reasonable playing field.

OOC: And you decided to do that by proposing somethign even more dumbass than the bickering? You have no right to barr anyone from this thread, you have no right to make such claims. If you didn't want your precious low tech to be compromised, or didn't want to be conquered, then why even take part? Honestly! Sometimes I am amazed at the things people on here are capable of.

We'd be much better simply retconning you, and finding a more reasonable playing field.I would rather avoid throwing the thread out completely, but obviously the choice is not mine. I issued my ruling knowing full well that the other players might well not accept it, and if they didn't, it would be the end of our battle. Nevertheless, the alternative was to simply end the RP myself, something I did not want to do. Thus, I made the decision to make a final effort to establish a set of rules and avoid a complete breakdown of the game.

OOC; Except that ending the battle isn't your place; nor is dictating who can and cannot take part and with what. Thats the key point you seem to be mising, broach it as a solution; don't act on yuor own and try to impose rules that you cannot enforce and which will not be listened to.

OOC; Except that ending the battle isn't your place; nor is dictating who can and cannot take part and with what. Thats the key point you seem to be mising, broach it as a solution; don't act on yuor own and try to impose rules that you cannot enforce and which will not be listened to.The ESUS is free to ignore my rules. If they do, I will be equally free to ignore their attacks. Some solution. Still, I'm game. If nobody from the ESUS still wants to play by my rules, we can end the thread here and now or it can continue attacking what's not there and have an empty victory over an imaginary solar system. Like I said, it's not my call.

The ESUS is free to ignore my rules. If they do, I will be equally free to ignore their attacks. Some solution. Still, I'm game. If nobody from the ESUS still wants to play by my rules, we can end the thread here and now or it can continue attacking what's not there and have an empty victory over an imaginary solar system. Like I said, it's not my call.

Exactly, its not your call. If anything the thread will go on, because unless something can be worked out, all that will be achieved after 12 long pages, will be you being ignored.

And I'm sure you don't want that.

Exactly, its not your call. If anything the thread will go on, because unless something can be worked out, all that will be achieved after 12 long pages, will be you being ignored.

And I'm sure you don't want that.Since that would also mean that you don't get any part of Xanthal beyond what you conjure up for yourselves, I don't think it's a very attractive option for you, either.

Since that would also mean that you don't get any part of Xanthal beyond what you conjure up for yourselves, I don't think it's a very attractive option for you, either.

Well, since I'm not involved in this portion of the war, and since theres far more promising vistas out there for me to pillage, I don't exactly care. Now, lets all try and work something out together, from the ground up, discarding insanity.

Well, since I'm not involved in this portion of the war, and since theres far more promising vistas out there for me to pillage, I don't exactly care. Now, lets all try and work something out together, from the ground up, discarding insanity.Can you find someone who's willing to do that? The Mindset and Godular certainly aren't. Have the ESUS elect a representative to talk to me; I'll be glad to negotiate an agreeable solution, if at all possible.

OOC:
Xanthal, while normally inclined to offer the benefit of the doubt in terms of the motivations of others, I cannot help but find myself convinced that this is little more than a thinly veiled ploy to salvage victory from the jaws of defeat by OOCly providing yourself an artificial advantage.

This may not have been your intent, but it certainly looks bad.

Furthermore, if your stated intents are, indeed, true, you seem to fail to realise that your 'low tech forces' are a hindrance you imposed on yourself, and one you could easily compensate for - I'd make suggestions, but I'm not familiar with the intricacies of your tech base, navy, or style - it is, frankly, unfair to try and punish others for your failures, especially at this late a date.



Also, I would like to apologise in general for my failure to respond ICly up to this point - RL's been busy, myself under the weather, and when I finally found time to make a proper post, it was not until finally finishing a post that I realised that Abh had recovered his escape pods, which totally invalidated two hours' work. I'd have thrown a quickie together, but being unengaged, thought it better to wait and do it right - I will get something up soon after this issue is resolved, however.

OOC:
Xanthal, while normally inclined to offer the benefit of the doubt in terms of the motivations of others, I cannot help but find myself convinced that this is little more than a thinly veiled ploy to salvage victory from the jaws of defeat by OOCly providing yourself an artificial advantage.

This may not have been your intent, but it certainly looks bad.

Furthermore, if your stated intents are, indeed, true, you seem to fail to realise that your 'low tech forces' are a hindrance you imposed on yourself, and one you could easily compensate for - I'd make suggestions, but I'm not familiar with the intricacies of your tech base, navy, or style - it is, frankly, unfair to try and punish others for your failures, especially at this late a date.



Also, I would like to apologise in general for my failure to respond ICly up to this point - RL's been busy, myself under the weather, and when I finally found time to make a proper post, it was not until finally finishing a post that I realised that Abh had recovered his escape pods, which totally invalidated two hours' work. I'd have thrown a quickie together, but being unengaged, thought it better to wait and do it right - I will get something up soon after this issue is resolved, however.From the beginning, I made it clear that it would be the ESUS's responsibility to adjust to my standards, not the other way around. That that message was apparently never delivered is regrettable, but it doesn't change my intentions. I could easily wank to match you all, but the entire point was that I didn't want to do that. The only other solution would be to limit the ESUS, which is what was supposed to happen.

Perhaps me being lenient in allowing technology I wouldn't accept to enter the RP as long as it was used against players who were willing to accept it was a mistake, but again, it doesn't change the core issue, nor does it change the determination I have had from the beginning that I would not allow what I considered wank to be used against me. My issuing rules unilaterally was admittedly a presumptous, unfair, impolite way to handle the matter; but my two primary ESUS contacts, Mindset and Godular, would not negotiate on anything resembling equal terms.

I took the action I did because I felt that it was the only choice I had left. However, as I said, I am willing to try one more round of negotiations if the ESUS can agree to send me somebody that's going to give me something more to go on than "you surrender or we ignore you."

From the beginning, I made it clear that it would be the ESUS's responsibility to adjust to my standards, not the other way around. That that message was apparently never delivered is regrettable, but it doesn't change my intentions. I could easily wank to match you all, but the entire point was that I didn't want to do that. The only other solution would be to limit the ESUS, which is what was supposed to happen.


Adjust to your standards? Heh, now you're just being absurd - this is a game, for fun, and to expect others to jump through hoops just to appease you is beyond presumptuous.

Wank? Of course you could - anyone could, it's child's play, and I'd never suggest anything of the sort.

Dynamically, in the field, you'd simply balance the subjectives(for example, and to quote the Warsies; Variable Yields), although nominally I'd suggest the quantity/quality trade off in fleet composition, or simply RP your ships as tougher than you usually do - I know I dial down the potency of my own forces and fudge details when fighting a significantly less capable force; hell, I almost lost one of the KAG's best heavies to a guy throwing fifty-megaton nukes at me with 'supersonic' missiles.

There are a great many alternatives to 'wank'(of course, 'wank' is also painfully subjective, and usually defined as 'anything better than what I use').



Also, as to...

However, some have apparently regarded that as a stipulation that, if such technologically superior forces achieved victory over those who would play with them, they would automatically be victorious over all the enemy forces in the system.



As I am to understand it, the argument was that, if and when the "technologically superior forces" - I hate that term; FT combat is inherently too subjective for such measures to mean much, IMO - had achieved victory over their nominal foe, it would be unreasonable to expect them to simply sit there and wait for their allies to finish fighting, possibly losing, and that the only sane compromise would be to accept battle with them or withdraw in the face of a force you were unwilling to engage.

Which makes sense - if you have a perfectly able battlegroup just sitting there while your allies fight for their lives, there's no way to ICly justify not helping them.

If you were then, in turn, to beat off the guys you were fighting, leaving just you and, say, a tellingly superior ESUS force, it would be unreasonable to expect them to just up and leave, when, after a hard fought battle, on the very cusp of victory.

Think about it.

Think about it.I have. However, I disagree with your premise; namely that an expectation that the ESUS would comply with the terms I set forth when I agreed to be a part of the war to begin with is presumptous. I agreed conditionally for a reason. If it was a problem, I should not have been included in the war. For whatever reason, I was, and now everybody on the opposing side professes to have a problem with it. That, to me, defies logic. You seem to be implying that I am the one at fault for the conflicts going on. I may well be a part of it, but I am not all of the problem, and I firmly believe that I am not even most of the problem.

In any case, placing blame now will only lead back to the same unproductive bickering that brought us here. Maybe it's my fault for setting unreasonable standards, maybe it's The Humankind Abh's fault for not relaying my wishes clearly enough, maybe it's Indra Prime's fault for not posting the rules at the beginning of the thread, maybe it's Godular's fault for being a poor negotiator. It doesn't matter. We're probably all to blame, as well as others, for those reasons and more.

The question now is whether we can we resolve the issues we have now or we should use retroactive continuity to erase the matter completely. I am saying I'm willing to talk, civilly and directly, about resolving the dispute over the rules of the game on equal terms with other players. I can't guarantee that talking will yield a solution we can all agree on, or that it will save the thread, but I am willing to try. Are the other participants? If not, we can stop wasting our time and just cut things off here. I'm not prepared to roll over for you, and I don't think you're prepared to roll over for me. Considering how far apart we are on this issue I can guarantee that neither of us will get our way. All will have to compromise if we want to continue this thread.

The only reason Godular and I were asked to help was because several other GFFA members were arriving as reinforcements. We also arrived on page 2 or 3. Now ten pages later you are deciding you are kicking us out after much IC knowlege of everyone's tactics and weapons is already learned and at least three other Threads branched out of events from this one?

If you notice, we have done nothing but fight the reinforcements that keep arriving, leaving the origional Thread participants to continue their battles together. I know Godular had intiially included you in his opening attack but I believe he has switched to other forces after they arrived.

When I look through the list you posted I see you are even listing the Thread Founder, thus kicking him out of his own Thread! I thought only the Mods had that ability.

I noticed that some of your reinforcements get to stay but all the ESUS ones have to leave unless they leave out key parts of their forces. What would The GFFA say if an ESUS member tried to do this?

or simply RP your ships as tougher than you usually do

OOC: Actually, that wouldn't be necessary. From what I've seen, every use of 'uber' tech in this thread thus far can be countered by simply not using braindead tactics. Take the Kythons... the only reason that Xanthal's allies were so utterly crushed by those things was that they used the same simple tactics [line up and open fire!11] over and over again, even though they did not work the first time. In fact, that was one of the things that Godular and Balrogga found most amusing, as far as I can tell.

Hell, I know very little about the critters, and I've already thought up ways to kill them involving nothing more 'wankish' then a railgun, duct tape, and a killer gerbil. And the duct tape isn't really necessary.

Anyway, just to chime in... I think the problem, Xanthal, is that you did not see fit to define your view of 'wank' for us. So... we used our own. Hence why you do not see Facehuggerian Dreadnoughts bearing down upon you, or Kanuckistani Superforts/Battleplates, or Traileric Colossii, or other similarly 'wankish' units.

As an aside, The Kython-thingies seem more like they're 'false-wank' to me. They appear 'wank' because they manhandled the GFFA reinforcements with pathetic ease... but only because the GFFA reinforcements were unable to adapt to a changing tactical situation. Pit them against a character who actually knows what they're doing, and I see the Kython-thingies falling in short order.

The only reason Godular and I were asked to help was because several other GFFA members were arriving as reinforcements. We also arrived on page 2 or 3. Now ten pages later you are deciding you are kicking us out after much IC knowlege of everyone's tactics and weapons is already learned and at least three other Threads branched out of events from this one?It is worth noting that when I attempted to block Godular from participating in the first place, his response was "Then I'll claim yer godmoding." Obviously he had no intention of respecting my decision from the start. Only after that did we agree that he could participate by attacking other, willing participants.

OOC: Neither of you are listening to the other's points. CF, good points on the Kythons. Hell, I'm amused as to why the GFFA doesn't pull out the ol' shotgun and blast them the old-fashioned way. But I disgress, here's what I see:

Xanthal wants someone to actually talk with him and negotiate out this thing he's done. He is feeling that no one is talking to him so he must resort to this action, which to me, is unnecessarily harsh. I disagree with his actions, make no mistake, and I'm sure the other members of the GFFA does.

The ESUS obviously doesn't like what Xanthal's pulling, but their own actions aren't helping either. Instead of simply agreeing to the negotiation (in the OOC thread preferably) and talking things out with him, they seem content to dictate matters, which further spirals things out of control.

Both sides are at fault. Both sides must step back and think about what they say and do next because the next act could be worse than the last. Both sides must compromise, must communicate, lest this thing goes down the drain that is an ignore-fest, if it hasn't already.

OOC: Neither of you are listening to the other's points. CF, good points on the Kythons. Hell, I'm amused as to why the GFFA doesn't pull out the ol' shotgun and blast them the old-fashioned way. But I disgress, here's what I see:

Xanthal wants someone to actually talk with him and negotiate out this thing he's done. He is feeling that no one is talking to him so he must resort to this action, which to me, is unnecessarily harsh. I disagree with his actions, make no mistake, and I'm sure the other members of the GFFA does.

The ESUS obviously doesn't like what Xanthal's pulling, but their own actions aren't helping either. Instead of simply agreeing to the negotiation (in the OOC thread preferably) and talking things out with him, they seem content to dictate matters, which further spirals things out of control.

Both sides are at fault. Both sides must step back and think about what they say and do next because the next act could be worse than the last. Both sides must compromise, must communicate, lest this thing goes down the drain that is an ignore-fest, if it hasn't already.

Seconded. Really, guys.

Tech level is, fundamentally, Xanthal's only complaint, and it is ultimately invalid - technology is only an issue if you let it be, as I've already outlined.

He, apparently, refuses to acknowledge that, choosing to see only 'wank', atleast as far as I can tell. I hope that I merely failed to express myself with sufficient clarity.



Ultimately, I see a roleplayer held rigid by preconceptions, and so limited - he doesn't want to 'wank', nor be crushed, so refuses to fight those who he deems too 'advanced'. In turn, I have attempted to explain the fundamentally subjective nature of what we're all doing here, and how easily one can adapt their forces to compensate for things like tech differences or massive disparities in weapon power, without 'wanking'.




Such is my position - anything else I've said is secondary to this.

Xanthal, you could always, you know, surrender? Hell, as an ex-ESUSer I'm sure we'd cut you a deal which didn't involve forcing you into servitude, probably just something about renouncing the GFFA and we'd basically leave you alone with a bit of an armed guard.

One should also remember that you volunteered for this to happen essentially. You realised you were facing an alliance filled with high tech level nations, hell, you used to belong to the same alliance. Why didn't you just refuse to get involved in the first place? Didn't you consider the possibility that you might not win?

One also wonders why you didn't post this in the wonderful OOC thread we already have for this exact purpose...

Winning isn't what's important; what's important (to me) is that I not lose by default simply because the ESUS can haul in more fancy toys. As for what Kanuckistan is saying, yes, I do have rigid standards about technology. I won't exaggerate the power of my own technology to fight off others. This is the problem we face; the same one that led to my leaving the ESUS months ago: I and the alliance's majority have fundamentally different philosophies about how the game should be played. I agreed to this war because I thought the game was more important to the ESUS than showing off.

We can still move forward. However, we can not move forward until we agree on rules, because if we continue without them, then the thread will likely end in an ignore-fest anyway, and I'm not interested in wasting my time if the whole thing is going to be deleted from history. I do want my concerns addressed. I don't think that's too much to ask. I see no point in continuing to propagate the verbal mudslinging going on here, so this will be my last post in this thread until the issues we have are resolved to our mutual satisfaction. The next time I am contacted about the matter, I expect the discussion to be about resolving the problem, not who's right and who's wrong.

Winning isn't what's important; what's important (to me) is that I not lose by default simply because the ESUS can haul in more fancy toys.

Stop putting words in my mouth. I SAID, if the Kythons manage to beat out all the GFFA defenders in the system, such that you are the only one left, and you CONTINUE to insist on not fighting them, THEN it should be a loss on your part by default, as there are attackers in system that you will not combat and have no intention of just departing because you think it'd be really convenient.

How is this so bloody hard for you to grasp? How do you keep not understanding this? Why do you keep misrepresenting my argument? This isn't about technology and gadgetry, this is about you not wanting to fight a certain group and making no considerations about what happens if they win.

I pulled my Kythons elsewhere to be a good sport. I made no accomodation whatsoever that the Kythons would simply poof from existence if they whacked the rest of the forces in the system. You seemed to... STILL seem to, might I add, be operating under the impression that such an accomodation is in effect.

Wanna know why I said I'd tag you with godmoding? Because you keep trying to rig everything possible in your favor, even the nature of the forces arrayed against you. You were trying to dictate everything in a thread not of your making, and you'll have to pardon me if I see that as a type of home-wanking.

Again, this is not about tech and gadgets. This is about you not wanting to Roleplay with certain people because YOU think they are overly concerned with their technologies and YOU think that just because they have a higher tech base that YOU cannot fight them.

As for what Kanuckistan is saying, yes, I do have rigid standards about technology. I won't exaggerate the power of my own technology to fight off others.

A good RPer does not NEED to exaggerate anything to combat others.

This is the problem we face; the same one that led to my leaving the ESUS months ago: I and the alliance's majority have fundamentally different philosophies about how the game should be played.

Heaven forfend we should try to play the game as we want.

I agreed to this war because I thought the game was more important to the ESUS than showing off.

Showing off what? Is that what you think of us? That our technology directly negates any and all RP capability? That the laser beam we can shoot at you is an "OMG I SHOOT @ U!" beam no matter how we phrase it?

Geesh.

Lrn2play, nub.

Winning isn't what's important; what's important (to me) is that I not lose by default simply because the ESUS can haul in more fancy toys.

Except that isn't what's happening. From what Godular said (admittedly too confrontationally), it sounds like you would only 'instantly lose' if you refused to fight. Which, quite honestly, sounds reasonable to me. Refusing to fight equaling forfeiting and all. Well, unless you simply hoist out your ignore cannon... but that's a rather ineffective method of trying to get your way, when there are much better methods out there.

I won't exaggerate the power of my own technology to fight off others.

I take it you also won't use competent tactics to compensate for the technological disadvantage as I suggested? Xanthal, a wank-race isn't the only way to beat wank. In fact, it's probably one of the worser ways. Or are you saying that Xanthalian strategists are truely third rate, and thus you can't have them ICly adapting to the situation? Because... if so... let me say that you'd still likely lose even if you had more uber tech then the rest of the ESUS put together.

Tech is a tool in roleplay... and quite honestly, in an RP it matters far less then simple, competent, and objective IC thinking. I point to Kanuck's example in this regard, what with suffering a crippling loss to one of his ships from a player with megaton-range 'supersonic' missiles that anything beyond modern tech could likely deal with (PMT included.) I know for a fact that the rest of the ESUS, including Godular and Mindset, feel the same way.

Here's an idea... why don't you try to attack the Kython-thingies without using the same braindead tactics that the rest of the GFFA used? You keep saying that Godular and co are being unreasonable... but how can you know that if you don't make the effort? I'll tell you what... If it seems to me like they're being unreasonable, I'll get them to stop.

Unless it's like Kanuckistan said initially, and you're hell bent on simply avoiding losses? Xanthal, I really want to believe this isn't your motive in this action. I really do. While we've had our disagreements in the past, I've always respected you, even if I can't agree with your beliefs. But honestly, this does seem rather... poorly timed if it was your intent all along. Why make a ruckus now, as the thread comes to the phase where the ESUS would start attacking your defenses, rather then your ablative allies?

I agreed to this war because I thought the game was more important to the ESUS than showing off.

It is though. :confused:

I do want my concerns addressed. I don't think that's too much to ask.

I thought that was what we were doing? I know that Kanuckistan provided a number of ways to compensate for a technological disadvantage, and though you seem fixated on the 'wank up your ships temporarily' aspect of it [and it's really just an aspect], there were other methods as well. Then there's the simple 'decent battle through superior tactics' method that I mentioned.

Seriously, proposing alternatives to you simply ignoring opponents who have a higher technological level then you isn't addressing your concerns?

Lrn2play, nub.

Please, you aren't helping with comments like this. Though I do appreciate your side of the story. As I suspected, it was far less cut and dry then 'we win or ignore you!11'

I am trying to find resolution, just not one that depends on convoluted OOC rules that are utterly baseless ICly.


As for what Kanuckistan is saying, yes, I do have rigid standards about technology. I won't exaggerate the power of my own technology to fight off others.


I'm not saying exaggerate, I'm saying that advanced does not inherently mean more powerful, and that relative power is, in turn, entirely a matter of perception.

There is no reason a less advanced military cannot be, pound for pound, just as tough as any given, more advanced military.

In fact, I atleast specifically avoid quantifying the power of my weaponry to encourage exactly this, so preconceptions as to what's appropriate don't ruin an RP.

Thus my point; you're getting hung up on a perceived technological disparity that doesn't actually mean anything.



That said, if you're still not willing to fight without hamstringing the ESUS, then the best course of action would probably be for you to negotiate your withdrawal from the war - I can think of several IC reasons to justify offering you favorable conditions, so long as you're willing to abandon all involvement in the GFFA war effort.

Except that isn't what's happening. From what Godular said (admittedly too confrontationally), it sounds like you would only 'instantly lose' if you refused to fight. Which, quite honestly, sounds reasonable to me. Refusing to fight equaling forfeiting and all. Well, unless you simply hoist out your ignore cannon... but that's a rather ineffective method of trying to get your way, when there are much better methods out there.



I take it you also won't use competent tactics to compensate for the technological disadvantage as I suggested? Xanthal, a wank-race isn't the only way to beat wank. In fact, it's probably one of the worser ways. Or are you saying that Xanthalian strategists are truely third rate, and thus you can't have them ICly adapting to the situation? Because... if so... let me say that you'd still likely lose even if you had more uber tech then the rest of the ESUS put together.

Tech is a tool in roleplay... and quite honestly, in an RP it matters far less then simple, competent, and objective IC thinking. I point to Kanuck's example in this regard, what with suffering a crippling loss to one of his ships from a player with megaton-range 'supersonic' missiles that anything beyond modern tech could likely deal with (PMT included.) I know for a fact that the rest of the ESUS, including Godular and Mindset, feel the same way.

Here's an idea... why don't you try to attack the Kython-thingies without using the same braindead tactics that the rest of the GFFA used? You keep saying that Godular and co are being unreasonable... but how can you know that if you don't make the effort? I'll tell you what... If it seems to me like they're being unreasonable, I'll get them to stop.

Unless it's like Kanuckistan said initially, and you're hell bent on simply avoiding losses? Xanthal, I really want to believe this isn't your motive in this action. I really do. While we've had our disagreements in the past, I've always respected you, even if I can't agree with your beliefs. But honestly, this does seem rather... poorly timed if it was your intent all along. Why make a ruckus now, as the thread comes to the phase where the ESUS would start attacking your defenses, rather then your ablative allies?



It is though. :confused:



I thought that was what we were doing? I know that Kanuckistan provided a number of ways to compensate for a technological disadvantage, and though you seem fixated on the 'wank up your ships temporarily' aspect of it [and it's really just an aspect], there were other methods as well. Then there's the simple 'decent battle through superior tactics' method that I mentioned.

Seriously, proposing alternatives to you simply ignoring opponents who have a higher technological level then you isn't addressing your concerns?



Please, you aren't helping with comments like this. Though I do appreciate your side of the story. As I suspected, it was far less cut and dry then 'we win or ignore you!11'

May I point out that in the past all logical avenues of atack against Kythons have achieved exactly nothing. At point blank range, attacked by Abh railguns, they dodged. At longer range, attacked by Abh beam weapons, they simply went "LOLJ00H341M3!!!!" In this manner it is demonstrated that Goduilar has no intent of taking reasonable losses, in any case. I am of the opinion that were I to ram a kython down my barrel, and cut loose with a 600 ton load of buckshot, and then detonate an antimatter bomb within the infectedbarrel, he would still come up with some way that the Kythong not only survives, but reproduces. I think this, because every time I have seen him RP, he simply treats himself as infinitely superior to everyone. He is supremely arrogant, and shows no care for story. All he has ever done in my experience is try to win. And wank horribly in the proccess. A shield against superlasers, his decision as to what does and does not constitute a superlaser(though how a really big nuclear beam gun comes anywhere NEAR that description is beyond me). Every instance in which he appears is geared so totally in his favor because he has an overriding desire to win.

I really thought the ESUS was better than that. Or at least had more class.

EDIT: And Godular, yes, that's EXACTLY what we think of you. Not the ESUS as a general rule, just you. HT is being rather accomadating in his battle. I'm curious how his ships are dodging 600 tons of metal at cfrac, but it doesn't really matter. He has to take losses eventually. And he will, because we can trust that at some point, he'll get so overwhelmed that he can't possibly dodge it all. Hell, eventually I may be hitting ships at the rear of his fleet when I target nearer ones. With you, I find it to be highly unlikely. Your history has not given me any confidence in your ability to play anythiong other than a guaranteed win. And without such a win, I believe you will wank atrociously to achieve it.

Here's an idea... why don't you try to attack the Kython-thingies without using the same braindead tactics that the rest of the GFFA used? You keep saying that Godular and co are being unreasonable... but how can you know that if you don't make the effort? I'll tell you what... If it seems to me like they're being unreasonable, I'll get them to stop.



Hey! I've actually been trying, trust me on this one. ;)

MM:

HT wishes me to inform you that he has not been dodging your Slugs. Your Slugs have simply been taking out one enemy each from the swarming foe you face. Perhaps you might want to radio weapons control and tell them to switch back to scattershot?

On the other stuff: I place little meaning in any critique offered by you on the simple basis that it is you who offered it. Pots and kettles, looking in mirrors, whatever analogy seems best. I will admit though that hearing you rant does put a smile on my face as I dwell on the inherent irony of you making such tirades.

Though, I feel the need to clear things up a little from your typically delusional view of happenstance:

May I point out that in the past all logical avenues of atack against Kythons have achieved exactly nothing. At point blank range, attacked by Abh railguns, they dodged.

But still took losses.

At longer range, attacked by Abh beam weapons, they simply went "LOLJ00H341M3!!!!"

Did not occur. As I remember it, the only one that actually mentioned anything about converting energy into anything useful was Balrogga when CW's electrified hull plating caused his Kythons to replicate.

In this manner it is demonstrated that Goduilar has no intent of taking reasonable losses, in any case.

The pinnacle of unbiased analysis is most assuredly not you.

I am of the opinion that were I to ram a kython down my barrel, and cut loose with a 600 ton load of buckshot, and then detonate an antimatter bomb within the infectedbarrel, he would still come up with some way that the Kythong not only survives, but reproduces.

Well, first you'd have to outmaneuver it to the point that your ship would be capable of ramming a Kython down the barrel. Then I'd laugh as your ship blows up when you detonate the Antimatter bomb. I lose a Kython, you lose one of those ships that seems to have an inordinately large amount of this inordinately large and heavy ordinance. Sounds about right, considering your standard tactics.

I think this, because every time I have seen him RP, he simply treats himself as infinitely superior to everyone. He is supremely arrogant, and shows no care for story. All he has ever done in my experience is try to win. And wank horribly in the proccess.

You must have a hard time with that reading thing, then. This statement proves you haven't done enough.

A shield against superlasers, his decision as to what does and does not constitute a superlaser(though how a really big nuclear beam gun comes anywhere NEAR that description is beyond me).

Now I will admit that such was something of an overstep, but truth be told now that I know better about various FT yields it is understood nowadays that your Yamato guns aren't anything special in any sense of the word. Perhaps I shall simply consider them as having the same oomph as turbolasers. Similar yields. In any case it would likely do you good to stop referring to them as such marvelous weapons of ubersmish.

Every instance in which he appears is geared so totally in his favor because he has an overriding desire to win.

I enjoy the inherent irony of you saying such things, and also the amusement originating from the fact that you attribute all percieved wankeries, including nonexistent ones, to me. I must hold a special place in your heart to deserve such attention from your internal propaganda machine.

As far as dodging the shotgun slugs you are shooting, let me go back through the events as it happened:

You made your intro post, as required by everyone for etiquette purposes so nobody just jumps into a fight shooting away (I made mine on page 2 or 3).

Abh sent a message to New Dornalia suggesting shooting all infected ships. Since at least one of the systems on those infected ships included the Comms System, I was able to act on this info ICly.

The next post I had my Kythons pull out of the infected ships as well as the attacking ones. This left the eight cores from the Potemkin floating in space. I mentioned they were near critical so ND could either decide to let them implode or post preventing that from happening.

Godular also posted confirmation of forces pulling out to the distance of a “couple Au”.

You fired your guns at the New Dornalia and Abh fleets even commenting about the destruction of allies being ok with you even though there were no Kythons in sight


Why you did this, I am still puzzled.

You even tried to convince ND in the OOC Thread to make the implosions a large thing so a "few kythonns would get sunburnt" even though ND made a comment about it being just more friendly fire.


Now, can we get this back on the road so I can post the battle between the ND ships and the Imperial ships? I have a ship that was chewing on theirs that bit off more than it could chew (plasma venting) I need to comment upon.

Hello?

*hears echoes*

Anyone here?

*more echoes are heard*

Is anyone working on resolving this? There are at least three Threads branching off this one that I am part of that need posts but this needs resolved first.

Suggestion:

Those forces Xanthal does not want to accept are moved to a neutral system (Presumably one with some sort of minor GFFA outpost), and we continue on from there.

The forces he does want to accept can either continue fighting in his system, or accept the 'neutral-system' addition to the continuity. That way, we can continue, and no-one gets ignored, we merely rearrange things a bit to make them work.

There is a delema.

The forces Xanth doesn't accept are basicly those attempting to block his reinforcements.

The forces he will accept are basicly those reinforcing him.

Of course his list contained members from both sides but it basicly narrows down to those two statements because ND has been removed from that ban list (according to him).

Since Xanth wants to try to set things in his favor, I am leaving this Thread. I will consider everything that happed up to this point as factual including all ships lost by all forces. This has dragged on far too long without any resolution and I will leave it to those who deem themselves worthy of his "rules".



IC:


Suddenly the Kythons began to pull out of the combat. They approached ships and seemed to merge with it or even merging together creating their own ships. The massively increased fleet then all simple faded away.




T-Space:

The ships rendezvoused with the rest of the fleet and formed battle ranks. They simply jumped to a nearby system and entered a large wormhole that opened in front of the lead ships.

OOC: Retcon time!

IC: They were gone. Where there had once been an endless swarm of Maker-Mind forces, there was merely space. The rift was gone, and they were all gone. It was as if they had never been there..

OOC: Indeed

One moment they were there, the next moment they were not there. All sign of the Kythons vanished save for a small cloud of enemy debris shaped in the form of a hand with an upraised middle finger...

OOC: While I regret that a more satisfactory solution could not be found, I am pleased that those parties which I did not want to deal with here have found a new outlet for their roleplaying in this war. These experiences should be a lesson to us all in the future: everyone to participate in a game of this nature should be fully in agreement on rules before they begin playing. This was a disastrous blow to our out-of-character relationships, relationships that I value highly as a player no matter what our in-character relations may be. I hope that, as our frusteration subsides, I will be able to re-establish the rapport I have enjoyed with many of you in the past. ESUS members with forces not blocked by my earlier post (including Hyperspatial Travel, Penguenia, Jordaxia, Northrop Grumman, The Mindset, and possibly Trailers), and those who had all of their forces ejected but wish to continue with less-advanced technology, are invited to return to in-character posting. I cannot force new rules on you, as has already been demonstrated, but if there are any among you that are willing to continue playing by the rules I have set, your continued participation is welcome. After all this, I believe that you still have, and deserve, a real shot at victory if you are willing to continue playing. If not, I thank you for your participation thus far, and apologize for the adversity our mutual misunderstanding has spawned.

OOC: You know, it’s funny. Every time it looks as if something big could happen to my country…every time I could get treated to something really fun? It’s taken away from me. It falls apart, or countries get deated, or I’m kicked out before I have a chance to do anything because it wouldn’t favor a certain side.

I mean, I restarted my biggest storyline ever about 5 times before I gave it up because no one wanted to stick with it more then 2 pages. I had the opportunity to have a wedding RP with Zoir….then he died. Last major war I was in? The 2003 Invasions of Melkor, which ended in a massive ignore fest. Kinda like this one, only with more decapitations and swear words.

And of course…this.

Dispite the fact I was invited, dispite the fact the defenders welcomed me, dispite the fact that I am a semi-decent RPer with no bad cred, DISPITE the fact nowhere on this thread is it marked “closed”, I was rebuffed. Simply because the attackers would find it…less to their advantage. Yeah man, that’s how war works. You gotta ask the enemy if you can defend something they’re attacking.

…

…

Wait, what? That makes no sense. Part of the fun of RPing is taking both the events that help you and hurt you. I hate Mary-Sueism. I hate “winning is the best part of the game”ism. Sure, yeah, winning the war is awesome. You get territory, prestige, girls…. But you know, if you lose? There’s even more plot potential right there.

Rebellions, vendetta, cold war. KHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!

Damnit…I count myself as a cautious optimist. But…NS has always been a bit of a sore spot for me, since about the time the APTO fell and I realized I was all alone. I was without a nitch. Without any circle of fellow RPers. Since then (about what…2004?) things have never worked out to well for me on this site. Yet I’m still too addicted to just let my country die. Sad, I know.

Earlier this year I thought I had finally come to resignation with Atlantis here. Nothing would ever happen. I was content in my little bubble, while I focused on my now-busy life.

Then Xanthal woke me. I guess that’s what I get for signing on MSN for the first time in about a month. He told me of the war…and that he wasn’t faring too well.

…this was my chance. Xanthal was one of the few remaining people I still knew on the site. More important…he was an ally! Something was actually happening in my neck of the woods, SOMETHING THAT MATTERED TO ME! For the first time in AGES I felt the same joy for the game I had when I first started. I don’t jump in random RPs that don’t effect me! That’s probably why I never found a new nitch!

Wooooo! We all saw how well that turned out. -_-

So….yeah. Here I am. All ready….I finally got around to doing the stats for my fleet. …..yeah…. You pulled me from my bubble, people. Something’s gotta happen.

And I don’t mean these minor RPs I’m part of. The generic “space anomaly/random ship appears/minor schuffle” space RP that usually involves Crimmond and which I’ve been doing for the past year.

*sigh* Damnit people. All I wanted to do was to have some fun. Actually DO something with my country with other people, something that would have an effect. I wanted to meet new people. Meet new allies and enemies. It’s not like they come to me…most of my RPs end up getting ignored.

I wanted to play with you guys. Instead you ignore me and start bitching at each other. I just wanted to have some fun….was that too much to ask?

*sigh* Whatever. Don’t get me excited over anything NS related unless you actually intend to use me. Otherwise, just fuck off. I’m tired of this. It’s just like that time Adej….oh wait, he did that a lot. My bad.

OOC: Charming. So this is how it ends, eh? Guess I'll take Bal's route, and keep the damages from this fight. Course, I'll be staying.

IC:

Mbutu could scarcely believe the sight, and only said to his Political Officer: "I better start praying now. I think we just got the biggest break of our lives....."

He then ordered the surviving ships to begin collecting themselves, and prepare to go home...with tractor beams and a quick search for the right hyperspace gateway, they evacuated ASAP except for Mbutu...meanwhile, the reinforcements were to stay; half would hold this area, the other to engage what seemed to be descendants of one of pre-Apocalypse America's premier defense contractors--Northrop Grumman. Under cover of cloak, they moved forth to their new duties....

Simply because the attackers would find it…less to their advantage. Yeah man, that’s how war works. You gotta ask the enemy if you can defend something they’re attacking.

Because it had nothing to do with the fact that we, the attackers, had myriad allies to call upon, and wanted to keep this thread less complicated by not inviting another thirty people. Getting this war up and running has been a major organizational effort, and adding more people to the equation just makes the RP grind slower and slower.



Wait, what? That makes no sense. Part of the fun of RPing is taking both the events that help you and hurt you. I hate Mary-Sueism. I hate “winning is the best part of the game”ism. Sure, yeah, winning the war is awesome. You get territory, prestige, girls…. But you know, if you lose? There’s even more plot potential right there.

I believe we've all lost wars, and won wars, here. It had nothing to do with winning or losing, surprisingly enough. On the day you were invited, I was prepared to round up five or six allies (who had previously been rebuffed because this was an ESUS/GFFA thread), and shove them into the thread. It had nothing to do with losing or winning, and more to do with the complication of the thread - it was already moving slowly as it was.



For the first time in AGES I felt the same joy for the game I had when I first started. I don’t jump in random RPs that don’t effect me! That’s probably why I never found a new nitch!

Wooooo! We all saw how well that turned out. -_-

And if Xanthal had said to us 'hey, I've got a buddy who wants to join in on the war, is it ok if he mobilizes and prepares to help us?', we probably would've said 'fine'. As it was, we got another member we didn't know thrown into the thread, and, for all we knew, you were some random ally of the GFFA who hadn't been notified by them that this was closed.


I wanted to play with you guys. Instead you ignore me and start bitching at each other. I just wanted to have some fun….was that too much to ask?

*sigh* Whatever. Don’t get me excited over anything NS related unless you actually intend to use me. Otherwise, just fuck off. I’m tired of this. It’s just like that time Adej….oh wait, he did that a lot. My bad.

If you wanted to get involved with the war, fine. But there's a difference between calling in an ally, (with OOC notification so that we know, at the very least, the GFFA aren't giving the finger to the closed war idea), and just throwing an ally in ASAP. Hell, I think it'd be fun to have a few GFFA allies on the side, y'know, considering the overwhelming size of the ESUS forces.

But, then again, it's the surprise of things that provokes a 'fuck you' response. If Xanthal had asked us nicely to tone down our technology, and pointed out aspects of it that he didn't like (insta-FTL, honkin' big guns, etc), we probably would've been willing to do that. When we get 'you are all banned from this thread until you meet my standards', you're more likely to get the finger than compliance.

Neither side has made an attempt to negotiate OOCly, and it's that sort of thing that led to the end of this battle. Then again, it doesn't bother me.

(I still don't see what he's complaining about, considering the fact that the most people in the ESUS have, and always will, consider all tech equal, with that note about Kanuck's ship being hit by a megaton-range explosive).


Oh, and, do you know Yukatania? Considering the way this thread has gone, we're well-prepared to attack him. No doubt he wouldn't mind some assistance, and it'd be more fun if we had someone interested in a war on his side, just to balance it a bit.

At first there were Kythons, and then there were none. With one fell swoop all Kython traces had been removed leaving the Danika in the hands of the allies once again. Ships began reforming once again into a unifromed fleet once more. Kiern've's Whitestar squadron took point while the admiral sent out ships to gather lifepods from any ship that might have gone down in the last fight.

It was not a long process and soon many were already ready to move on to the next region of Xanthal territory. Only one thing really left to do, and that was to make sure the area was fully secured before moving on. In that instance alone a shadow destroyer was left behind along with its fighters to provide a pressence in the region while the rest of the fleet entered Hyperspace.

Note: The contents of this post is my opinion only. The opinions contained within are not meant to extend to the ESUS as a whole and should only be attributed to the poster. This will probably be my last post on the matter and I will consider the entire mess over and finished unless he attempts to argue the point.



OK, you have now, after throwing a tantrum, gotten your way and excluded almost every ESUS member from Indra's Thread while including almost every one of your allies.

This will allow the entirety of NS to see what kind of player you really are.

I gave you almost two weeks to actually try to resolve this issue before removing myself from your pitiful attempts to godmode your way out of a situation you fully agreed to in the first place.

Hell, the only reason Godular and I were in the Thread in the first place was because you had already called in reinforcements and all we did was engage them while leaving you to fight the original combatants you started fighting with.

Your reply was to pretend you were in charge and make a ban list. This ban list I do admit contained both sides but if you look further, the list only banned parts of your allies' fleets while it completely banned the entirety of the ESUS fleets. You even banned the player that created the damn Thread.

-Atlantian Outcasts (all forces)
-Balrogga (all forces)
-CoreWorlds (all forces)
-Gaia Rodina (Org'rimma)
-Godular (all forces)
-Hyperspatial Travel (Instrument of Cleansing types)
-Indra Prime (all forces)
-Kanuckistan (all forces)
-Mini Miehm/The Solarian League (all forces)
-New Dornalia (Warp Cannons)
-Talaax (grutchins)
-The Humankind Abh (Symphonic Fleet)
-Warshrike (all forces)

Let's take a closer look at this list of yours...


First let’s divide the list into alliances:

ESUS
-Balrogga (all forces)
-Godular (all forces)
-Hyperspatial Travel (Instrument of Cleansing types)
-Indra Prime (all forces)
-Kanuckistan (all forces)

GFFA
-CoreWorlds (all forces)
-Gaia Rodina (Org'rimma)
-Mini Miehm/The Solarian League (all forces)
-New Dornalia (Warp Cannons)
-Talaax (grutchins)
-The Humankind Abh (Symphonic Fleet)
-Warshrike (all forces)


Other
-Atlantian Outcasts (all forces)


Now that is done, let’s further edit the list to exclude all those Xanthal excluded completely. This list will show who you actually will allow in on all sides.

ESUS
-Hyperspatial Travel (Instrument of Cleansing types)

GFFA
-Gaia Rodina (Org'rimma)
-New Dornalia (Warp Cannons)
-Talaax (grutchins)
-The Humankind Abh (Symphonic Fleet)


You will first notice that the ESUS members were almost completely tossed out while the GFFA members were allowed to retain parts of their fleets to assist Xanthal. 20% of the ESUS members would be allowed to remain provided they don’t use an integral part of their forces (Hyperspatial Travel).

Coreworlds was already removed from the battle so they should not have been listed. They had already left the Thread so I will not consider them in the GFFA section.

The GFFA had two (again not counting CW which had already formally withdrew from the Thread.) members banned outright. One of these (TSL) was destroying their own allies so this could have been taken as an attempt to save allied forces. This would only leave Warshrike to be outright banned while all the rest can proceed with agreeing not to use their warp cannons, grutchins, ect… That means all but 66% to 80% of the GFFA forces were banned and those that were was only in the best interest of the GFFA because TSL was destroying everything they could and let friendly fire be dammed.

The Other group contains Atlantian Outcasts. I know nothing about this player other than Xanthal invited him even though the leaders of both alliances agreed not to bring in outside forces to keep the Threads from bogging down and suffocating. Xanthal went ahead and tried to bring in reinforcements from outside his alliance for the second time in the same Thread. You would figure if the first attempt was not successful he would have learned it was not a good idea. That is what we get for thinking, I guess.

I would not be against playing with Atlantian Outcasts, but this was not the way to go about including him. Perhaps we will meet in another Thread (please take HT up on his suggestion if you can ICly justify it).

So what we have here is an invalid attempt to reduce the ESUS reinforcements to 20% strength while attempting to appear to reduce his own allies to 66% to 80% strength. The overall numbers would be 1 single ESUS reinforcement player against 4 GFFA allies. Now, you are probably counting on HT realizing this and removing himself from the fight, allowing your allies free access to you so you can save your neck.

This doesn’t even include earlier when he threw Jordaxia out of the Thread in his first attempt to be all powerful. If Jord hadn’t been so busy ICly, that action could have been taken to Moderation and it would have been clearly determined Xanthal was trying to use Mod powers by throwing someone out of the Thread, an ability that only the Thread Starter and Moderators possess. A look at the first post of the Thread will determine he is not the Thread Starter so he must have obviously been trying to imitate the powers of a Moderator…

To make matters worse, he posts afterwards in an attempt to make himself the victim and typing a post of “Oh poor me but I tried so hard”. The only thing it was missing was the batting of the puppy dog eyes.

In case you didn’t notice, there are some of us out here than can read and comprehend the English language. We can see through your shallow attempts and your thinly veiled manipulations. We are disgusted in the fact you used to be an ESUS member and personally I am glad you left so the fact you are not a member of my alliance is clearly beneficial to us and detrimental to the GFFA.

In my opinion Xanthal has sunk below the levels of Hataria, Mationbuds, 1010102, and others of the wankiest level of NS.

Oh, I won't go that far. He didn't kick out NG, Mindset, Penguenia and Trailers and he brought back Jordaxia. Then again, those players aren't playing right now (NG excepted) so yeah, you might have a point.

NG was the only one left who could still actually post. The rest were either taken out or could not post due to OOC complications. Me, Balrogga, and HT came in to assist and keep the story going, but heavens forbid Xanthal should try to actually RP with us. Nope, gotta preserve that technological integrity, no matter what the cost to the story.

You GFFA people can go ahead and consider this a victory for yourselves if it would make you feel better. If you got half an ounce of integrity though you'll leave too and have done.

Nah, I can't in good conscious defend Yukatania. I don't know who anyone is on either side, and have no reason to get involved. It all goes back to that "I don't jump in things that don't relate to me whatsoever" attitude I have. The ONLY reason I jumped in this was because of Xanthal.

I think you should know, Xan....I'm not too happy with you right now myself. You pulled me out of retirement and then told me it was a false alarm. That's like waking a sleep-deprived person and then shouting "APRIL FOOLS!" in his ear. You might just end up getting your spleen removed.

Well, if you can figure a way for any of us to ICly interact with you either in a battle or in an actual RP, then I invite you to contact us via TG to arrange it.

Another option is to check out The Cluster and set up a territory there. It would allow you to interact with a group that are currently creating their consititution or something like that. Chronosia, Godular, and myself are in there from the ESUS and there are several others.

LINK (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=476365&page=10)

Try to take advantage of your momentary action and get something going. At the very least you can help shape new players into something better for NS.That way, stuff like this will not happen again, hopefully.

Nah, I can't in good conscious defend Yukatania. I don't know who anyone is on either side, and have no reason to get involved. It all goes back to that "I don't jump in things that don't relate to me whatsoever" attitude I have. The ONLY reason I jumped in this was because of Xanthal.

Logic: Yukatania is part of this universe.
Logic2: We are ravaging, all-consuming (In NM's part) beings who generally wish to end life in the universe.
Logic3: Distress calls have the habit of ending up in the funniest places.

Just a Logic thought. ^_^

Even though Tim did not find the guards’ words to be of a particularly kind tone, he thought it best to at least thank the second one who had showed some concern for the Chairwoman’s health and did so before turning his attention back towards the frail elf lying before him. Feeling helpless as he could not move to help her stop the bleeding or anything, he sighed deeply and rested his head against the wall of the luggage locker, worrying about what was going to happen next.

The Chairwoman’s hoarse voice caught his attention. “Thank…you…”

“You’re welcome, ma’am, but I wish I could do more though,” he replied slightly saddened but glad that she was still conscious and alive.

She seemed unconcerned by his depressed attitude and sought to keep the conversation going, mainly as an attempt to keep her mind active but also because she wanted someone to talk with so that the time would pass sooner. “What’s…your name?”

“Tim, Tim Turnbull.” He almost smiled at the sarcastic statement he gave next. “Hmmm…I wonder who you could be.”

“Heh…heh…” came a slight chuckle which she forced out through the queasiness. “Good eyes…Tim…what is…it that…you…do?”

“I am…erm…was an engineer aboard the Umarth, specializing in the main power systems including the core itself. It was a fine old ship, and I am glad that I served on it for the past eight years.”

Because of her forced speaking, the Chairwoman began to cough violently, jerking around a little on the floor before she replied. “Sounds…good…damn…I feel…like shit…”

“You really need to rest. Talking to me isn’t going to help you with that injury of yours...I know…my wife is a nurse at a local hospital where I live.”

“Maybe…you’re right…” The exhausted response barely left her lips before the nausea overcame her, and she began coughing worse than earlier as her chest began to retch. It was not long before she began to vomit upon the floor of the luggage locker, a result of her severe concussion.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Out beyond the edge of the Than System, Lieutenant General Soderman and the rest of the cloaked Second Strike Force, which he commanded, waited patiently for any sign of the Mindsetti fleet and hoped that their allies would soon arrive so that the assault could commence. But they had been there for quite some time already, and nothing had happened, nothing at all.

However, it was known by Soderman through sources of intelligence that the Xanthalians had a strong presence in this very system, and because of this, he did not want to strike against them at this time without any sufficient backup so he kept his forces well outside of the system. Normally he would have contacted General Harris for permission to seek new targets but a communications blackout between the two forces created a difficult situation for him.

“Dammit!” he cursed as he angrily slammed his fist into the armrest of the chair. “I have had enough of this stupidity!”

Soderman then swung his chair around to his helmsman and comm officer and shouted out an order to both. “Send an encoded message to the fleet. Engage ion drives and head out away from the system at full speed. I will relay further instructions when I see fit.”

“Yes, sir,” they replied as the Kent Kresa began to inch forward, slowly banking into a turn to leave this system.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Meanwhile, back in the Mirfak System, the antimatter mines had begun to take their toll upon the forward battleships of the First Strike Force, rendering one’s propulsion systems and shields completely inoperable. But two were not as fortunate as that one and suffered immense damage, leaving the automated systems to eject their volatile power cores, the zero point modules. It was only a few seconds after that event that both massive vessels detonated from their irreparable damage, taking sixty thousand lives with them.

The fleet’s movement ground to a halt as the rest of the fleet tried to avoid the debris from the battleships, while the Thomas Jones attempted to retrieve the ZPMs lest they fall into the enemy’s hands or even worse, strike another vessel, vaporizing it and others nearby. But the assault did not stop as the remaining battleships focused their weapons on the hokals, including firing off another volley of antimatter torpedoes for a total of a little over a thousand.

OOC-I go away for a little while and look what happens.

CF, contact me on MSN or TGs. I wanna arrange something.

Intersection of Loss watches the battle proceeding on its screen with a solemn intensity. What it sees is not encouraging. The Labule continues to do severe damage to the Corporate fleet, but despite the best efforts of the soldiers under its command, the Xanthalian fleet is losing ground to the powerful missiles and comparatively weak, but equally numerous fighters. Victory for the Labule is now all but impossible. Still, the enemy shows no sign of halting its onslaught. Worry is not in the than's emotional repertoire, but nevertheless Loss is troubled by the inadequacy of the Labule's defenses. It makes the frode's job a great deal more difficult that it has so few ships to work with. Indeed, from a retrospective standpoint, one could congratulate the fleet commander for doing so well with the resources at hand. For Intersection of Loss though, there is no joy in a loss, however impressive. The hokals are in retreat, the lesu force decimated, the gels slowly losing their battle in the thick of the enemy forces.

The next barrage from the NGASF fleet destroys what is left of the lesus. The hokals at the rear, though at range, still suffer horribly without a front line to blunt the force of the attack. Those of them that are left scatter, twenty moving to rejoin the eleven survivors from the front line, now behind the enemy force and putting up a brave but feeble counterattack. Others, badly damaged, try to escape behind the planet. A few, hopelessly crippled, launch escape vehicles as they fall silently towards the planet's shield, where they are obliterated. For the stations in orbit, many of them still fully manned, there is no escape. With nothing now standing between them and the opposing force, they are helpless, protected only by their energy shields and a thin layer of armor.

The gel, though beleaguered by the relentless fire from the Corporation's corvettes and fighters, are the only viable force left at Xanthal's disposal, and as their numbers continue to fall, they persist in bringing down enemy ships many times their size, just as they were meant to do. That theirs seems to have become a suicide mission has little effect on the assault; for most of the crews there is no time to think now, only to react. Many prepared themselves for death before the battle was joined. Many others, never expecting that it could really come to this, simply cease to be as their humble shelters surrender to the void under the barrage of fire. Two hundred and fourty of the small attack craft continue their deadly dance, leaving the remains of friend and foe alike in their wake as Northrop-Grumman's fleet advances.


By the grace of some divine being and a hair's margin, Pan-Galactic 216 escapes unscathed behind the horizon of Renku. YLZ-13, a military operations facility, allows the ship to dock, its commander unwilling to turn the flight away from what little refuge the station can offer. The silence is eerie as the ship sits at dock. Engines are offline, and their position offers only a spectacular view of Mirfak's blinding light and the blackness of space around it on one side, and the cold, metallic hull of the space station on the other. The silence lasts several minutes. Even the crew speaks in whispers. Finally, the sound of an airlock opening greets the commanding shouts of an unseen female. The military has arrived.

"Weapons on the floor! Hands where I can see them!"

A hustle of footsteps is all the captured engineer is privy to as their 'guards' back off, hands in the air. "Easy now," Lem stammers, his arrogance spilling out into the front of his jeans and dripping down his pants leg onto the floor. "I'm cool, we're all cool!"

The source of his distress is apparent as two Xanthalian soldiers carrying dangerous-looking beam rifles hustle past the locker. "Go," the woman says to the man beside her as she turns to point her weapon at the prisoners. She cuts an impressive, commando-like figure. He corners Lem and his buddy at the end of the hall. "Gimesal!"

"Gimesal!" the woman now holding the two Grummians shouts.

"Gimesal!"

"Gimesal!" two voices from the other end of the ship travel loudly through the closed space.

"Maltal," a new, gruff man's voice replies. "Dol uki olin."

The ship's crew is paraded out at gunpoint, one by one, until Siri and Tim are the only ones left, still covered by the strikingly beautiful xanthalian soldier. "Lanyu hastejai voybed!" She calls out. Then she speaks directly to the engineer for the first time, though she shows no signs of relaxing, or lowering the gun pointed at his face. She speaks in poor, heavily-accented English, but the meaning is clear enough. "You no person of this ship. Where you from?"

"Admiral I request to stay behind!"

"Request denied commander. We are going to need every ship at our disposal shortly and this sector of space is secure. Our presence here is no longer required and is needed elsewhere. Now fall back in."

Kiern've sighed heavily as he sunk back into his chair. The holographic visage of Imperial Admiral Gaf'ton towered over him. "Then I am requesting to join the fighter squadron that will remain in Mirfak."

Gaf'ton's expression softened slightly. "Granted. Collect your belongings and take a shuttle to the destroyer where you'll be reassigned to a fighter wing. This is conditional though, your stay in the Mirfak system will be short."

Keirn've nodded his slightly in accordance. "Agreed."

"I'm sure Sabriel is fine. Anyways, I expect to see you back at the capitol in a few days." With that business taken care of, the communication link was killed. The Admiral stood from his chair to stretch for a moment before heading over to the communications station. "Communication chief, patch me a link to the Dornalian fleet."

"Right away your Highness."

Dornalian Commander,
This is Imperial Admiral Gaf'ton. I believe it is time that your head military commanders and I finally had a talk, but not here. A possible proposal if they will agree to meet with us at the Imperial palace at their earlies convenience.

The Comms officer called to Mbutu and then said, "Sir, we have a message from the Abh."

Mbutu then replied, "Patch them through, Comrade."

Dornalian Commander,
This is Imperial Admiral Gaf'ton. I believe it is time that your head military commanders and I finally had a talk, but not here. A possible proposal if they will agree to meet with us at the Imperial palace at their earlies convenience.

Mbutu read it over and then sent a message back to the Abh, saying, "Admiral Gaf'ton, this is Captain Mbutu of the People's Navy. I shall contact my government regarding this as soon as possible. I feel it is important that we coordinate plans as quickly as we can. Over and out."

In the meantime, Mbutu also recieved another message from JRCCC, saying, "Comrade-Captain Mbutu. Please redeploy all nonessential forces from Mirfak to the home sector as quickly as you can. They are needed for other duties."

He then said, "Guess we won't so many then. Redeploy half of those vessels I put on garrison, tell them to get home. We will stay and act as guards."

Thus, this was done....50 ships, of course, was no mean force, but then again....

"Highness, we have reply from the Dornalian captain."

"On screen."

Admiral Gaf'ton, this is Captain Mbutu of the People's Navy. I shall contact my government regarding this as soon as possible. I feel it is important that we coordinate plans as quickly as we can. Over and out.

"Send an acknoweldgement. The rest of us will head back home."

Jump points began forming as Abh ships began exiting the system leaving behind one Shadow destroyer, a squadron of fighters, plus one Star Cutter for commander Keirn've. The small detachment would remain behind for a brief time to ensure all remained secure as well as to keep the Empire informed of what was happening in Xanthal. In one final flash, all were gone.

The New Dornalians, meanwhile, completed their operations, and only 50 vessels, all light ships of the Lin Biao II class, stayed with Mbutu's second in command, as Mbutu himself completed the withdrawal of most of New Dornalia's units from the area.

The propaganda machines would make this a victory, for sure. But if this was a real victory, then he was the Queen of France. They had only won by the skin of their teeth, and even then, the enemy had forced them to divert a lot of men down here, making this the best example of a Phyrric victory-cum-Antietam New Dornalia had to put up with....still, they had fought well for their country. And they did help keep Xanthal free. Nobody could contest that.

Tim saw absolutely no reason for lying to the Xanthalian soldier because he knew that it would get him into even more trouble when they eventually found out where he was from and much more. And that would be very easy considering that he carried his national ID card with him along with the dogtags around his neck.

He gazed up at the soldier and replied, “I’m from Northrop-Grumman and…” Siri began to cough violently once again, jerking her body around on the floor. It attracted his attention and his tone changed as he pleaded, “You have to get medical help for her, please! I don’t know how long she can last like that.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------

The current formation for the Corporation’s vessels was apparently becoming unsuited for the situation at hand for the enemy forces were now at the slightly less armored and armed rear. There the eight Yorktown class carriers were positioned, away from the earlier barrage of antimatter weapons so that they could remain safe, but still had their fighters and bombers, twenty-eight thousand in all, swarming around them, waiting for any target to strike. So the remainder of the Xanthalian front line that was attempting a counterattack provided a worthy one. Fourteen thousand craft in the form of 10,000 fighters and 4,000 bombers broke away from the fleet and pursued the attacking force. The nimble fighters began to harass the enemy vessels with their medium PPCs and Gatling light PPCs to keep the attention of the Xanthalians spread out upon everyone while the bombers set about firing their small but still powerful antimatter torpedoes as their heavy PPCs provided additional firepower.

While this was occurring at the rear, the rest of the fleet began to regroup with the Yorktown class carriers repositioning themselves at the core. As the one-hundred seventy-three corvettes darted in between the capital ships of the fleet pursing the gel, the two battlecarriers provided forward cover while three of the more damaged battleships reversed to cover their backs. Though the battleship, the Merciless Justice, that had been earlier stopped by the antimatter mines had been able to restore partial ion drive propulsion and was slowly moving backwards when it managed to incur even more damage by the suicidal gel to the point of destroying its forward turrets. And now it was assigned a new task by the fleet commander, to rescue survivors of the earlier advancement, both Grummanian and Xanthalian. So then it left the main fleet and began to teleport those aboard.

Meanwhile, aboard the John Knudsen Northrop, General Harris examined the status reports from the various ships in the fleet, nodding her head gently as she smiled a little. She was pleased at the progress her fleet was making especially since this was her first wartime command as the commander over all the Corporation’s space forces. And she knew that her grandfather, her predecessor, would’ve been proud of her today of how she had handled herself. But a sharp ping interrupted her thinking so she leaned over and pressed the red flashing button upon her console. A screen lifted up from the side and a keyboard extended to her, the chatroom opened up again…

<:::::Gen Harris has been added to the conversation:::::>

Maj W.H. Ichitan: General, I have received the last of the transmissions
from the fleet. The sensors officers there have reported that the
Chairwoman is not aboard any of their vessels.

Gen Harris: Damn it! Dismissed!

<:::::Maj W.H. Ichitan has been kicked from the conversation:::::>
<:::::Crmn O’Neill has been invited to the conversation:::::>
<:::::Crmn O’Neill has been added to the conversation:::::>

Crmn O’Neill: What is going on? Don’t you have a fleet to command?

Gen Harris: Yes, I do and it is going well, but Siri has gone missing…

Crmn O’Neill: Wha..?

Gen Harris: I tried to contact her after our initial attack upon the
Xanthalians but there was no response, so I had each ship scan for
her and found nothing. I’m sorry, sir.

Crmn O’Neill: Hold on…

Crmn O’Neill: She’s not here either…shit…

Gen Harris: I’m sorry, sir, but she either was lost when one of the
ships was destroyed or is captured by the Xanthalians. I should’ve
been more careful.

Crmn O’Neill: It’s not your fault…I can’t keep after her, how can I
expect you to keep after her...besides, you were just doing your job.

Gen Harris: But…about that job…there is now a problem. We can’t
call a ceasefire or anything like that since Siri is gone, you and the
Vice Chairman are not aware of the conditions of the fleet and the
enemy. What would you have me to do?

Crmn O’Neill: Hmm…I leave the decision in your hands. I’ve known
you for most of your life and I know you can make a sound judgment.
But right now I need to figure out what to do about Siri…just keep
me apprised.

<:::::Crmn O’Neill has disconnected from the conversation:::::>

What is left of the heavier combat ships are quickly routed by the superior force of the Corporation's forces. The gel are left alone to continue the fight for Xanthal, and aboard its station, Intersection of Loss contacts the Triumvirate.


"You quiet," is the only response Tim gets from his captor. "Eliv!" she calls. Another soldier, this one a than, hustles to her side and levels its own weapon at the huddled Grummians.

The battle with the Xanthalian gel had taken its toll on the John Knudsen Northrop’s complement of fighters, reducing them from a swarm of two thousand all the way down to a small but still formidable force of three-hundred five. But around fifty-three of those were damaged enough to force the pilots to land their crippled vessels in the landing bays of the battlecarrier. Meanwhile the rest continued their struggle alongside the remainder of the corvettes.

For the time being, the Corporation’s fleet, as a whole, held their positions, no longer advancing against the enemy. The engineers aboard were spending this valuable time repairing the systems that had failed: weapons, power, shielding, and propulsion. Of course, not all would be repaired, but at least some of the more important systems would be, a great help for the continuation of this battle.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

With his fleet well beyond the outer rim of the Than System, General Soderman, after examining their position relative to the Xanthalian worlds, believed that roughly five minutes at full power had given the Second Strike Force enough of a distance to be unnoticed when the cloaking devices were powered down. So with a slight creak of his command chair, he pivoted to his helmsman.

“Helm, open a hyperspace window to the Mirfak System.”

“Yes, sir,” came the reply as the officer set about working the many switches and buttons on his console.

A slight shimmer in space occurred as the cloaking devices disengaged and were followed by the massive fleet reappearing. Before them, the hyperspace window opened and the vessels bolted forward into it.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Releasing a resigned sigh, Tim leaned his back against the wall and carefully watched over the Chairwoman, wanting to help her in any way possible. But her conditioned continued to worsen as she once again vomited, her chest convulsing as she coughed. And the blood never ceased to drip from her head and into her eyes that now gazed upon the two soldiers. She was helpless, unable to fight back, unable to heal herself, and now she would have to place herself into the hands of the enemy to be saved.

Attention friendly ESUS vessels, this is warband Martel de Fer, we appologise for the delay, we sorely hope losses in our absence were not grievous.

The long-delayed warfleet disengaged slipstream drives and popped out several hundred thousand leagues away from the main engagements, a full brace of Colossii and their accompaniments. This was a full sixth of the entire Traileric Armada.

OOC: Sorry, I've had OOC problems of late and have been unable to post. I'll make a more detailed post later.

OOC: Sorry, I've had OOC problems of late and have been unable to post. I'll make a more detailed post later.I'm glad you're with us. Northrop-Grumman is the only ESUS member left active after a nasty OOC argument over the rules of this thread. I've pushed out most of my own allies to compensate, but he could still use some help. I must ask for a link directing me to details of your fleet's numbers and technology so that I may assess its compatibility with Xanthal's technology level before you become actively engaged here. If you would like to discuss the matter in dialogue, please feel free to contact me via AIM or MSNIM. If there are any problems, I will likely contact you myself to see if we can work them out.

"Sir, we've picked up an energy surge in the at the rim of the system. It appears to be another enemy fleet."

Keirn've hadn't taken the command chair out of respect but had unofficially been given command over the small operation in the system. At the moment, the Shadow destroyer was on the darkside of the nearest planet keeping out of sight of any incoming and exiting vessels. But they were still able to pick up on transmissions and monitor the ongoing battle. Keirn've walked over to the tactical display screen to view the new arrivals. "Launch the fighters and have them on standby. Communications, dispatch a message to D'Hara requesting ships at the Mirfak system as soon as possible."

"Sir, if we send a message it is possible that they might detect it and find out where we are before we're prepared."

"Send the message but don't power up weapons yet. Continue to monitor the enemy's position. That should provide us with a small blanket to manuever with."

A transmission was blasted into hyperspace targeting D'Hara where as many ships as possible would be scrambled and sent in. Hopefully some of the ships that were just leaving the system would intercept the message and return.

As what's left of the Xanthalian fleet continues its vain struggle against the enemy, the harsh reality of the situation is finally being felt by the Triumvirate, which is recieving Loss' update from the underground bunker where the Xanthalian state government has taken shelter in anticipation of a possible attack on the planet. The faces around the triangluar table are grim, as are the aides standing to the sides of the room. Kĭsnäş, the most junior of the Lanalphini, is first to speak after Intersection of Loss concludes his report. "Thank you Älĭm," the Mon Calamari acknowledges in a deep, resigned voice. "Comrades," he addresses the other Triumvirs, "It is time to end the loss of life, if we can. Reinforcements are hours away. If the attack does not stop, no future victory will be able to repair the damage done to Renku. Are we agreed?"

Oeşe smiles sadly. "No trials can ensure justice for the people of Xanthal. Too many have died today. Our defiance cannot go so far as to mean death or slavery for those we have sworn to serve. I agree."

"I agree," Ämsi assents from his seat in a gruff, unyielding tone, "but this is not the end. We must preserve our government's control over Mirfak and the rest of Xanthal. The fighting should stop, but only until we can muster the force to put ourselves at an advantage. Then we can drive the invaders from our home."

"One step at a time, Länălfĭn Käsäl," Kĭsnäş chides. "Mirfak is lost for the moment, and no government can lead freely with the might of its enemy overhead. Only one of us is needed here. I will stay. You two must get off this planet and re-establish command of the military from Than."

Eko rises from her chair, but Yătzĭl does not budge. "I will stay. I am the senior executive. It is my responsibility."

Tenĭn hesitates and looks over to the Second Triumvir, who smiles reassuringly "All will be well in time. Let destiny take you forward from here." The squid-like creature's features harden and he rises. The two of them head for the door, followed by their aides.

"Eiko, Teanin," Yatzil calls out. The two junior executives turn to look back. "Good luck." Both nod resolutely and depart. The heavy door shuts and latches behind them with a metallic clang, and Omsai turns back to the video monitor. "Get the Alphashra out of the system. I'm going to call for a cease-fire. If the enemy complies, see that allied forces do as well. If this does not work, standing orders to guard our technology are still in effect. Be sure to remind those under your command of that fact."

"Yes, Grähälĕl;" Loss responds. "Shall I open a channel for you?"

"All standard frequencies." The human man stands up straight, taking a dignified posture as he smooths out a wrinkle on the sleeve of his black robe. His neck cracks slightly with the effort. Even with the help of modern medicine, Omsai has begun to feel his age in recent years. With the weight of the task at hand upon his shoulders, the strength in his old muscles seems less than ever. His blonde hair is steaked with grey, and his forehead has been laid bare by baldness. This is his failure: he has managed the military since his earliest days in office. Now one hundred thousand people are dead; and no amount of rationalizing can wipe that blood from his hands. The camera opposite him turns on; its activation indicated by a green light near the lense. He begins to speak.

"To the commander of the invasion force: I am First Triumvir Yatzil Omsai of the Socialist Republic of Xanthal. Cease your attack. I wish to open negotiations for an end to this battle."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

In orbit, those aboard the Pan-Galactic starship are ignorant of the developments below. However, progress is being made. Captain Turnbull is stripped and moved out of the transport at gunpoint. The Chairwoman is similarly rendered naked before she is strapped to a stretcher and hauled to the station's medical bay, also under armed guard. Both are laid on surgical beds, staring into a bright light shining down from the ceiling of the sickbay. Each feels a prick as an IV line is fed into a vein in their hands. Within moments the darkness overtakes them, and they feel no more.

“General, we have an incoming transmission from the planet, audio and video,” announced Major Ichitan, breaking the silence while he continued to listen through the earpiece that was pressed against the side of his head. “It’s from the First Triumvir of Xanthal.”

“On screen, but do not send any response,” General Harris replied flatly.

Before her, the tactical display of the Grummanian fleet flashed briefly to the Corporation’s logo, then to the video feed from the planet Mirfak that played almost instantaneously. As that was happening, Harris found that it was nothing truly interesting though for she merely stared at the screen, listening to the words but not making any effort towards a response to the Triumvir. She also allowed the video to constantly cycle as she went about sorting through the information about her fleet that was continuously being fed through her command chair.

Moving her stylus across the screens of her chair’s twin displays, she began to give simple orders to the fleet. The first being that those non-essential personnel aboard the battleship Merciless Justice were to be evacuated to the battlecarrier Thomas Jones while those that remained on board were to begin cannibalizing parts from the heavily damaged vessel so that other, less damaged, ones could be repaired to full operational capacity. Then, if this war concluded fairly soon, the Merciless Justice would be towed back to Grummanian space where it could be restored, but if not, then there still could be many uses for such a vessel. A second but more important order was transmitted: a ceasefire. The fleet was now ordered to cease firing upon the Xanthalian vessels but were to keep their shields raised and all of their weapons fully powered. They were also to begin a move ahead at full speed towards the planet, to make a point that the fleet was still capable of striking if it needed to.

Finally, after forcing the Triumvir to wait for several minutes as she finished more important work, General Harris folded the screens away and flicked a switch upon her console, dimming the lights around her save for one that was directly over her head. The bridge crew worked in darkness except for the dim lights concealed within the buttons on their computer stations. On the other hand, the lighting over Harris reflected off her long raven locks of hair. Her young face of thirty-three stared emotionless towards the viewscreen before her as the communications link was reestablished and soon she spoke, flatly, to the Triumvir.

“I am General Amanda Harris, Commander-in-Chief of the Northrop-Grumman Air Force Space Command and of this task force invading your nation. I have ordered my vessels to cease their firing.” Her hands gripped the arms of her chair. “And I am willing to listen to you further.”

Timothy Turnbull awakens lying face up on a hard mattress, feeling as though he is in a dream. Confused and disoriented, as he tests the feeling in his limbs the Captain notices that his left arm has been immobilized with a cloth and plaster cast. He is otherwise unrestrained. As his eyes begin taking in his surroundings he can clearly tell that he is in a hospital room. To his left, facing away from him, is a woman, presumably a doctor or nurse, reading a chart on a digital display device.

"Lanshent," an insistent voice from the other side causes him to turn his head. An armed human man places his hand on his weapon, as if expecting the patient to launch himself off the bed and attack. This guard isn't wearing military garb, but it's obviously a uniform of some sort, vaguely resembling an eighteenth-century British military outfit.

Tim doesn't have much time to take this in before the woman he saw is at his side and calling for his attention. Her warm hand clasps his, cold and clammy from the stress and sedation. "Captain Turnbull. Can you hear me? You are in a Xanthalian hospital on Renku. You are safe. Do you understand?"

The woman’s strange statements compelled him to gaze up at her in confusion, his eyesight still slightly blurred from the sedative. What? Safe? On Renku? I’m in an…enemy…hospital…how in the hell can I be safe? he thought as his mind tried to comprehend the situation he was in. He found it to be quite different for him, something for which he was unprepared. Because for the past sixty years, no foreign government had ever held a Grummian as a prisoner of war, even throughout all the wars that the Corporation had been in. This turn of events was unprecedented.

Tim’s mind continued to fumble through different thoughts until a few words managed to spill out of his mouth, shaky and hoarse. “The one I came with …where…where is she?…how is she?”

"Please, stay calm," the nurse says urgingly, noting his distress. "The elfin woman was badly injured. As far as I know, she is still in surgery. The staff is doing everything possible to save her. Can you squeeze my hand?"

His face displayed signs of concentration as he squeezed the nurse’s hand gently before he replied to her. “Yeah…I can...umm…what’s going to happen to us, if you don’t mind me asking?”

The nurse smiles at him, pinching the fingers on his left hand lightly. "That is not my decision. My job is to make you well. Can you feel this?"

“Oh, alright,” he nodded, glancing around so as to keep his attention from what the nurse was doing to his hand.

While his arm still had the tingling from the anesthetic, he felt that someone was pressing upon his fingers, doing something to them, but he was unsure of what exactly it was. “Yeah, I feel that.”

The guard has relaxed again, and is now leaning against the doorframe looking bored, but always keeping a watchful eye on the Captain. "Good," the nurse's reply draws his attention back to her. "Now, I know that you are a bit shaky, but the drugs will wear off faster if you move around a bit. Sit up for me, please. You may experience nausea or lightheadedness, but it will pass quickly."

As he pushed himself upright upon hospital bed, a rush of queasiness streamed into Tim’s stomach. He groaned in discomfort and clutched his abdomen with his uninjured hand, trying to keep from vomiting.

“I’ll…be alright…just give me a moment,” he mumbled as he took deep breaths. Sure, it was uncomfortable, but it certainly wasn't as bad as the simulators he was put through during basic training. Those were quite strenuous and most people who went through it lost their lunch very quickly. But, fortunately, with this side effect of anesthesia, it soon ceased, and he sighed in relief.

"Good," his caretaker says warmly. "Do you think you can take a brief walk with me? We can go downstairs and see your friend, if you wish."

“Sure,” he replied, carefully swinging his legs over to the side of the hospital bed. “I think I’d like to go see her.”

When his feet had touched the floor, Tim unwisely placed his body’s weight upon them and caused one of his legs, still recovering from the side effects of the anesthesia, to buckle underneath him. He cursed when he nearly fell, but thankfully, his right arm caught the edge of the bed and prevented any more injury to himself.

As he propped himself back upon it, he looked up to the nurse, a little groggily. “Uhh…could you give me a hand getting up, please? Don’t really feel like breaking my neck right now…although, it would be convenient considering where I am…”

The nurse looks horrified. "Your death would not be a benefit to anyone. I am not your enemy, I wish to help you." She helps Tim drape his arm over her shoulder and hoists him up, placing her own arm around his waist. The nurse whispers to him softly, even though the guard doesn't seem to understand English. "I am not a lawyer, but I do know that our country does not take foreign prisoners. We are not barbarians; you will see your home again. Just be strong." She begins walking forward, going at a slow pace to accomodate her patient. "Do you have any family, Captain Turnbull?"

A difference in culture or at least a difference in thinking because apparent when the nurse did not understand Tim’s attempt at a joke. But instead of correcting her and explaining what he meant, he decided not to bother with that right now and focused his attention on keeping his balance as he steadily walked forward.

“Yeah…I have a family,” he replied to the nurse’s question, sighing some. “Been married for twenty-seven years and have a ten-year-old daughter…”

The guard stops them at the door, moving his body to block their progress as he casts a challenging glare at the nurse. "sĭl voyi dond?"

"ăkər pląsăl," she replies meekly, in flawless Mirfakan. It's hard to tell what her first language is.

The officer crosses his arms. "eą," he determines firmly.

"Turnbull hąsti han tu ŧăsi," she petitions in a tone that is somehow both deferent and exasperated.

The officer nods. "əsti yĭlsi, por Mănowąs eąəsti əksi as Grumeən ortąl."

The nurse raises an eyebrow. "uke eąsti as; ortą əsti eąwĭfąl."

For the first time, the policeman seems to sway. "wą eąwĭląl..."

"sĭl ąsti vwi ąk zəke, korəli?" Apparently giving in, the guard stands aside, and Tim and his caretaker are allowed to proceed. The guard falls in a few paces behind them, watching the engineer carefully. "That's wonderful," the nurse says, picking up their conversation where they left off. "I hope your return to them is swift."

While Tim did not fully understand what exactly his nurse and the guard were saying, he did, however, get the basic idea of their dialogue by the actions of the situation, not the words. He assumed that they were arguing over him being allowed to leave the room and was glad, when his nurse appeared to have swayed the man.

As he carefully stepped out of the room, Tim smiled a little, in a response meant for her persuasion but also for what she had said about his family. “Thank you…Nurse…ummm…I don’t believe I caught your name…”

The halls of the hospital are bland and sterile in appearance, as hospitals tend to be. As they walk to the elevator, they pass a number of other patients and staff, and of course a fair number of nurse stations and carts filled with medical or cleaning supplies. Everyone stares at them as they walk, fascinated by the sight of a police officer armed with a projectile weapon and wondering about the crime they suppose Tim must have committed. The nurse ignores them, keeping her focus on the Grummian officer.

"I was told by our escort not to give you my name. He mentioned something about security concerns. I apologize for my rudeness." She sounds sincere enough.

As he slowly walked through the halls of the hospital, Tim noticed the staff and the patients under their care staring at him and the other two Xanthalians that were escorting him, obviously interested in the group. So he merely glanced over to them, returning the curious looks that they were giving, before he answered the nurse.

“That’s alright, I guess. I’m technically a prisoner not a true guest, so I got to expect these things.”

The nurse doesn't reply, looking sad.

As they approach the surgical area, Tim's guard starts to tense up again, having second thoughts about allowing this. It's too late to turn back now. Led by the nurse, Captain Turnbull passes the ward desk and steps up to a small window built into the surgical bay door at eye height. He can't see Siri; one of the staff members crowded around the bed is between the patient and the door.

Tim peered through the small window, trying to catch a glimpse of what was going on with the Chairwoman, though someone was in the way. But even if he was able to see the procedure, he knew that he would not be able to understand what it exactly was as it was quite obvious that the engineering he had done aboard the Grummian battleship was an entirely different subject than surgery on a human…or in this case, an elf.

“Do you know what they're doing with her?” he asked in a concerned tone to the nurse.

"I only know that she was badly injured. I do not know the extent of her injuries, nor what is being done to help her."

The guard steps forward, apparently deciding Tim has spent enough time near the window. "zəke ąsti bĭləki eo."

The nurse sighs. "Time to go back. How is your strength?"

“Oh, alright,” responded Tim rather disappointedly as he turned from the window back towards the nurse.

“It’s better, I guess. Moving around is slowly becoming easier the more I do it, and the arm doesn’t feel quite as bad as it did before.”

"You will be well soon," the nurse says comfortingly. "Your arm will be healed in a few days."

Sharp pains jabbed inside of the Chairwoman’s severely injured skull as consciousness drew nearer, hours after her intensive surgery. With her eyes barely opened, she now found herself lying on what she felt was a hard mattress, but that was not the focus of her mind at this moment. The pains in her head drew her attention more so than anything else, and in an attempt to figure out what had happened, she tried to move her hand towards her head to feel what was there. But it wouldn’t move. She tried the other hand, but with the same result. What is going on?

Opening her eyes even more, Siri gazed down to her limbs, only to see them restrained to the bed. The frail, injured elf grunted as she yanked on the straps with what little strength she could muster. Again and again she tried desperately to free herself, but she was simply too weak to fight her way out of it.

“Damn…” came the partially mumbled curse from her mouth.

Her struggles set off a silent page to the doctor, who responds promptly considering he's just outside the door doing paperwork. Dr. Emile Zieger is of German decent, rare in a country who's human population has roots mostly in East Asia. The ancestors of what Caucasians there are in Xanthal came mostly from America. Emile is the son of a second-generation German immigrant and a Xanthalian woman whos family is predominantly of Asian descent. He has the face of an Aryan, hair and all, and the skin tone and stature of Chinaman, which would look slightly odd if he weren't living in a country where a good fifth of the population make anything remotely human seem normal.

His workload has been light this evening, but his stress level is through the roof. He's been entrusted with a single patient; the co-leader of an enemy country. High above him in orbit are massed the remenants of a decimated Labule fleet, all that's standing between the planet and the well-armed legions of his patient. "Please, be calm," he entreats Siri in a thick accent, fussing over a monitor display. "You are at hospital."

Naturally they are not alone. Four guards secure the door, two stationed in the hall (xanthalian males) and two stationed to the sides of the door inside the room (an emerald than and a human female). Two more, a human and xanthalian female, stand behind the bed as you enter for a total of six; probably more than are needed to restrain the battered and drugged wood elf, but once Siri's identity was uncovered, concerns about her magical abilities gave the KGB cause to increase the normal guard. The guards at the door have rifles, the other two carry pistols. If the man guarding Captain Turnbull looked tense, these guards are positively sweating. Well, except for the xanthalians: they seem as calm as ever. None of them talk to Siri or look her in the eye, but all four in the room keep a close watch on their guest.

Unconcerned about the presence of Dr. Zieger or even the security guards surrounding her, Siri continued to struggle to free her from the restraints that held her to the bed for she hated being tied down in any such way. She tried anything, from pulling as hard as her weak body could to an attempt to conjure a spell, but ended up with no progress. The latter was totally useless as she quickly found out. Her head was simply too damaged to even function properly and resulted in clouding her thoughts, diverting her concentration elsewhere. No matter what she tried, nothing would work. The words, thoughts, training were just not there, taken from her by the trauma to her head.

Her green eyes finally gazed over to the attending physician, realizing that she would not be able to get out of this on her own. She tried to speak, her words jumbling together in her weak state of mind. “Re…lease…me…please….”

"You need care," the Doctor says firmly. "If leave, you die." Looking at this pathetic form, it's hard to picture the strong, intimidating form of Siri O'Neill. She lies bound by restraints and casts, pierced by intravenous lines. Her hair was shaved off for the surgery on her brain, and now a skintight cap hooked up to one of the many monitors in the room displays her brain activity in a cherful array of colors lost in the gravity of the situation. Pads affixed to various parts of her naked body, covered by bedsheets in respect of what little dignity she may have left, monitor her vital signs. Machines take over the function of organs that have failed during the long and stressful ordeal of injury, transportation, and surgery. A sentient being so vulnerable is a morbidly fascinating sight. Most Xanthalians in Siri's condition would be euthanized, but allowing the Chairwoman to die would violate her country's ethical principles and likely promote further violence.

Still, the decision to help her leaves the hospital with a difficult case; few of the staff have first-hand experience attempting to heal injuries this severe. The doctor feels a pang of guilt seeing anyone reduced to this, but he refuses to let his professionalism waver. A quick check of the monitor displaying Siri's brain activity reassures him that the morphine dose he prescribed is keeping her pain under control. Despite her condition, Siri demonstrates the expected elfin resistance to the drug's sedating effects; which would be a good thing if she weren't using her remaining strength to fight her bonds. The doctor conveys this concern to his patient. "You use strongness to heal. You struggle, I make you sleep." Putting someone in Siri's condition under general anaesthetic is a dangerous proposition, but less so than allowing her to harm herself by trying to escape.

“No…,” she groaned to herself, barely above a whisper, for she did not want to experience the effects of anesthesia once more.

Now gazing away from the physician, Siri’s eyes carefully scanned her surroundings, stopping on anything that appeared interesting or different to her damaged mind. One of such things was the monitor that displayed her current blood pressure and heart rate, its various lines and dots moving steadily across as it updated. She watched it for some time, seemingly interested in its vibrant colors, but it was difficult to tell what she was thinking at this time for her face -- severely injured and now bandaged after the surgery -- was numb and immovable due to the painkillers.

The elf’s attention was now caught by the armed security guards nearby so her eyes now lingered upon them, watching their every movement, examining their weapons, armor, and such, and did so for some time.

“Home…” she finally mumbled, still watching those that guarded her. “I…wan…want…to…go….home…”

“I know,” the doctor says empathetically, placing a cooling hand on Siri's feverish brow. “Just try to live now.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Xanthalian reinforcements have helped strengthen Renku's defense, but they are overshadowed by the arrival of the second Grummian fleet, diverted from its attack on Than. Along with about a fleet's worth of ships sent by Than and Trasnia in response to Mirfak's distress, the Labule has requisitioned most of the armed transports in the area and even put available training vessels on the line in addition to the tattered remnants of the Xanthalian force at Danika. This leaves Xanthal with a fleet of almost two thousand ships, but only three hundred of these are actual warships, some damaged and almost all gel-types. There is nothing here to stop the Grummians from completing their conquest of Mirfak, but at least now they'll have to work for it.

Nobody wants to see a fight to the last man, however, least of all the doomed defense forces. So in orbit, aboard the John Knudsen Northrop, a lone Xanthalian representative makes a final effort to reach an agreement for peace with the ranking Grummian officer, General Amanda Harris. Their meeting has been quiet and straightforward. Each side realizes the stakes and knows their bargaining position; there is no place here for emotional outbursts. The original Xanthalian proposal has been passed back and forth several times now, edited and re-edited as the two sides try to reach a compromise.

The xanthalian’s name is Ai Teshima, a petite young woman with features that make her look almost like a child. “Alright,” she says, passing the data pad back to Harris. “How about this?”

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By the time Eiko and Teanin had reached the spaceport the Grummians had already blockaded the planet; so now all three Triumvirs are together again in the bunker under Jin Rin City. They sit side by side at a long table, Omsai in the middle with Oishi on his right and Kisnash to his left. It is time.

A computer monitor set up on the table in front of them switches to an image of the commander of the invading forces, behind and to the side of her is their ambassador. Omsai's face contorts in anger and spite upon seeing the face; even Kisnash can't help but grimace. Eiko wears a blank expression, devoid of anger, filled with a sense of failure and loss so profound that it has left her numb. The Mon Calamari is first to speak. “General Harris. The Council has approved our agreement.” Everyone knows what that means, but Teanin knows he must say it anyway. “By the conditions laid forth in that treaty, the Socialist Republic of Xanthal surrenders to the Conglomeration of Northrop-Grumman.”

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Less than an hour later, an official announcement is made, played throughout Mirfak and carried to the other Xanthalian systems by courier ship.

"We the Triumvirate of the Socialist Republic of Xanthal, acting with the knowledge and consent of the Council of the Socialist Republic of Xanthal, hereby accept the provisions of the Agreement signed by General Amanda Harris and Ambassador I Təşemą aboard the Northrop-Grumman Air Force Space Fleet starship John Knudsen Northrop in orbit of Rənku.

"We hereby proclaim the surrender of the Socialist Republic of Xanthal to the Extra Solar Union of Systems and command all Xanthalian forces and all forces under Xanthalian control to cease hostilities with the Extra Solar Union of Systems immediately.

"We hereby command all ranking Ląbul and Nąbul officers to issue at once orders to all Xanthalian forces at Mirfak and all forces under Xanthalian control at Mirfak to disarm and return immediately to their bases.

"We hereby order the liberation of all citizens of the Extra Solar Union of Systems forthwith, and that all available resources be provided for their protection, care, and immediate return to their countries of origin as directed by the governments thereof.

"We hereby pledge to end our military involvement in the war between the Galactic Federation of Free Alliances and the Extra Solar Union of Systems, and to gain the approval of the Conglomeration of Northrop-Grumman before deploying forces outside the sovereign territory of the Socialist Republic of Xanthal until the end of the war or for five years from this date, whichever is longer.

"The governing authority of the Socialist Republic of Xanthal remains unchanged, and all civil and military officials are to continue their normal duties so long as they comply with the terms of this proclamation."