NationStates Jolt Archive

"We are those who forsook sight when we saw we could bring about the end of galaxies, and commited to the task."
-The Majordomo


The sound of blasters was heavy within the small patrol frigate. The soldiers had complained about the lack of action that had come about currently, not even a pirate vessel to fight, so they spend most of their time in the ships training bay, firing at moving targets. Just a few more months of patrol duty and they would all be able to return home for a few weeks to visit their wives and families.

Klaxons sounded and the halls and rooms of the vessel went momentarily dark as the lights switched from the soft fluorescant white to the flashing red. The relative quiet of the ship had turned to confusion and haste as men ran to their stations.

"The ship has been overrun by three unknown fighters. All hands to action stations." came the controlled monotone voice over the comm system. "Captain to the bridge."

"What's going on?" demanded the casually dressed commander as he entered the command bay.

One of the bridge crew typed a few things into his panel before turning to his superior, "Captain, sir, three starfighters just appeared out of nowhere, sir. Identification unknown, as are the markings on the hulls and the designs. We tried to hail them, but no reply ensued."

The three fighters suddenly whirled, releasing dual blasts that glowed radiently, bright and yellow, as if a star itself shot from the tiny ships. And in an equally impressive display of lights, the frigate erupted into a bawl of flames before dieing out to reveal debris.


"We have arrived, Warmaster. The galaxy is open." A tall figure, emersed in shadow, gazed upon the materialising stars that filled the otherwise blackness of space. Within the bridge, equally dark but for the dull glow of the green lights that lined the walls, and the equally dull glow of the computer terminals, he stood pondering. An enigma to the unsuspecting galaxy. The vanguard of the mighty race, the first wave, the scouts. Fifty two vessels that had never been seen or heard of within the galaxy. Great citadels, black as space, the green light tips at the tops of the spires being the only distinction between the behemoths and the void, and a ring around the bottom, seemingly suspending it and fixating it.

"We have arrived..." whispered the shadow once again.

"...Thus, we do renounce the God-Emperor Kellerman, and the Senate of the Republic." the grave voice of the governor rang through the ears of Pro-Consul Aetius as he contemplated what it meant.

Something was wrong. The governor of Niss was a friend of his, and the fact that half the man's face was shrouded in the darkness and that he could've sworn he saw a blade sitting under the old man's throat. Still, he had spoken so...vigorously, as if by his own accord. Without even waiting for a reply, the transmission had broken off.

The golden gue trickled to the polished marble floor as it coursed out of the wound. A hole, torn by teeth from the governor's throat, finally ending the man's agony. The eyes had already been removed, as well as the hands and legs. The shadow then moved away from the lifeless body like a wraith, the heavy metal boots resounding off the corridor floor, the occasional splash as they went through a puddle of blood from the countless dead.

The planet was barren, now devoid of life. The last remnant, the planetary palace, which smoldered in as it was lit aflame. All plants, animals, and life had been taken, devowered, it's essence served to feed the invaders, who simply packed up and left the once lush and green planet a desert.

The Emperor of the Wanderjarian System was at peace, walking down the massive great halls of his Palace. Artworks of limitless beauty and pricelessness decorated every room, making every step through the massive complex a beautiful experiance.

He occasionally passed Praetorian Guardsmen, who nodded and smiled at their belived Emperor. They knew he did not feel the need for a salute every time they saw him, as he felt they respected him more if they did not need to. He was right.

His Naval Fleets could be seen from his windows, as the building stretched very high into the lower atmosphere. The enourmous shapes of the Titan Battlebarges, or Emperor Class Battleships lined the skies, making him feel quite safe.

Below, entire legions awaited his word, and could be disapatched anywhere at any time. Millions upon millions of his Clone Warriors, led by expertly trained Human officers, made up the bulk of his troops, while his genetic experimentations, the Adeptus Astartes, The Space Marines, were totally human. They were his finest, and they were the nearly immortal demegogues who fanatically carried our his will without fear, and without mercy.


Yes, he felt he was ready to face any foe to dared counter him, or so he though....


(OOC: I know, cheesy ending for the post, but I wasn't sure how to continue it ;))

The Onosis System.Onosis 6th out of 9 planets, Var'Ko'Na meditation chamber.


The 9 planets of this system made the Onosis empire, it was alone in space, never seen by the outside galaxy, it was made up of three species co-exsisting, the Telepathic, pasifist, water-dwellers known as the Liir (http://img141.imageshack.us/img141/5958/liirelderfo5.jpg), the honorable warriors of the tarkan kin (http://img141.imageshack.us/img141/4562/tarkanwarriorbk8.jpg) and the tarkan bos (http://img133.imageshack.us/img133/1166/sotstarkphysioml7.jpg) races and the humans known as the Randers, somewhere in the middle who, besides having longer life spands were the same as the humans of the rest of the galaxy, although they did not know about any others. They could be both war-like or pasifistic, and were thus the middle of the so-called trinity goverment.

The history of the Onosian people was one passed on by the storytellers and there scriptures of ancient times, telling the stories of a nation known as Morvanio taking to the stars and eventually to a new galaxy, and of there prosperaty. But also of darker time, the time they came, the Uknavar. How the three races joined together, even the Liir faught, but all were forced to flee their homes and travel into the unknown to escape "them".

And then stumbling upon there new home, called Onosis, translating from tarkand meaning "those who lived."

And they set up there lives here, not knowing about the outside galaxy, of anyothers out there and they decided to keep it that way. The trinity goverment was set up, the tarkan Var'Ko'Na, a spiritual leader, was the voice of caution and war, the Liir elder called Illian was the voice of peace and understanding and the Rander, called Deka, was the voice of control and reason acted as a neutral in goverment matters.

And they gained prosperaty the likes of which they have ever seen, this would continue to the presant day roughly a bit more than a millenium

but, like the tides, that was about to change...


He sat in his meditation chamber, thoughts swerling and eventually clearing in his head, he had no name, but only a title Var'Ko'Na the Greater (http://img181.imageshack.us/img181/9895/tarkaneldervarkonasu9.jpg), the voice of war and caution, the repsentant of his people in the chamber of time, the seat of power, with his personal fleet, he had quelled the insectoid species known as the Hako in the Hako wars on the 4th planet of Transar, helped create great works in cities across Onosian space, helped, along with Soro, the Rander elder and Hilliar the Liir elder keep the empire from civil war, he was a friend to both Liir and Rander, and was considered a demi-god by some because of his hours of training and meditation he spent per day and because a Liir priest blessed him with a limited "sight" somthing that was attempeted for hundreds of years but he was the first, but what he was most proud of was his 7 hatchlings, who were hatching in 8 weeks time and being able to give them his knowledge and pass on the item of his ancient ansestors to begin training them to become great warriors and leaders.

a ripple....

Var'Ko'Na opened his eyes and closed them, trying to follow the waves back to the ripple, and eventually he found the "rock in the pond" that caused it, he could see...see red lights flashing, fighters attacking a ship and fire....a large ball of fire, the ship disapeared, and then ships....many ships, different ships, but he could not reconize them....he felt them, was it they? He dug deeper, summoning all his strengh.....the eyes, the evil from its eyes everything was different, but this shroud of darkness. And then he awoke...Var'Ko'Na was shaking in his kneeled postion his eyes changing a cool blue to a frightend purple. After looking around and getting control of his breathing and legs....

He got up and went to a small wooden alter, upon it were item belonging to his ancient ancestor, among the items, a daggar, with the blood of an anciant foe, he placed his hands over it and re-did his last "sight" and it was the same feeling, it was a message from his ancestor, he thought after hours of thinking, a battle left unfought, his grand father dieing at the battle for survival, just before the last ship left for the unknown, telling that this daggar be sent, as a reminder, it was passed on for generations and now it was his, and now.....he must rally a whole empire, into a impossible war.

And still the sounds....they came from the diggar, the blood of the fallen wanting to return home, he could feel death of others by the sounds givin off, he could see the future, he saw the Randers in ships, being destroyed the Liir do not even have this power.

He reached for a comunicator, "Essemble the Council, i have somthing that is urgent that must be said."

OOC: the Randers he sees are actually your guys getting killed, but he does not know that

Scientist gathered in front of a thick glass window. They watched a small container. The Glass on the front of the container was fogged over. The container began to shake little. Then a black hand burst through the glass of the container. The scientist jumped backward startled by the sudden out burst. Out of the container came one of the most frightening creatures ever known to man. This black monster had no name besides apartment 87-5. The scientist watched in aw of what they have created. They have created the first intelligent biological life form. The scientist and the creature were aboard the Imperial Science Vessel WRAITH . They were taking part in an experiment to create a super solider of epic proportions.

The Creature once out of the container looked around. He saw the scientists through the window staring at them. An evil glow came to his eyes. The scientists seeing what were about to happen switched on the second stage of the experiment. The Mind control Stage. This stage will give the scientist complete control of the beast. They flicked a few switches on a panel next to the window. A buzz ensued as an object appeared in the roof of the chamber the creature was in. In them emitted a deafening sound that flooded the chamber bringing the creature to its knees. The creature was unconcise. "What happened to it? Is it dead?" uttered one scientist. "No it’s not dead. Only in a state of shock, once it wakes up we should have control over it." The Scientist looked at each other with satisfaction inn what they have made. A Beast.

The Bridge of the Imperial Ship FIRESTORM was a bustle with activity. "Report" "Sir I’m not picking up any lifsigns from the wreckage. By the rubble we've scan I estimate it is a Smaller Taledonia Patrol Frigate. Not sure as of yet its Name or Number." "Contact Dweladelfian Imperial Headquarters and apprise them of our situation. I want a full report of this on my desk in 1 hour Lieutenant." "Aye, Sir."

Captain James strutted to his office. Troubled with the situation he has gotten himself into he walked to a replicate and ordered a cup of Coffee. He than sat down on his soft chair behind his desk. His office was metallic looking. There was only one window to the right side of his desk. On his desk he had a picture of his wife and 2 kids. He was a young captain for the Imperial Navy. The Head Admirals were reluctant to give him command of one of there new Capital ships. They would rather have him in command of a Bird of Prey. Captain James has risen through the ranks of the Imperial Navy. And now he has found the wreckage of a Taledonian ship. The last thing he wanted to do is send a report to Imperial Command. For them to send another ship rather than have he continues the investigation. But he had no choice.

The chamber of Time, 2 hours after "sight." meeting in progress.....



The chamber was a crown jewel of the Onosian Empire, tall 3 story walls in a purpleish-blue hue, to large areas for senate members on either side, with a walk way of gold leading to an alter that could be adjusted to face either the high seats or the rest of the senate behind him. ahead of the alter slighly higher up were the high seats, belonging to ministers and above them were the seats of power, belonging to the 3 leaders, Var'Ko'Na, the Tarkand elder Soro, the Rander elder and Hilliar the Liir elder, though the liir had more of a large highly decorated chamber for obvious reasons, so to did the high seat and senate members of Liir descent.

The words of a warrior.....


With Var'Ko'Na's words said, and his believe that the Ulnavar have returned, that his visions show Randers dieing, were met with oppostion from some, and worry from others, even his fellow Tarkands were split.

A young Randarian boy walked forward, he was dressed in cerimonial white and was bald, he was a "Speaker to the Deaf", the Liir were only able to speak through thought, and this boy was trained not in "sight" but rather the ability to reconize messages from Hilliar. The Liirs long folicals began to glow and the boy spoke.

(OOC:Itallic=onosian language, they also speak basic)

"My brother, why is it not that my people, especially my priest have not heard these screams or saw this great fire?"

Var'Ko'Na thought for awhile,"Perhaps...perhaps it was a message for me to here, from my ancestor, the Tarkand aboard the Sword of the Stars who died making sure we could live on?"

The senate began wispering amongst themselves, but Soro brought them to order.

Soro then spoke, "Var'Ko'Na has givin us word of danger, and a danger of this magnatude cannot be dissmessed by speculation alone, we have heard the stories from the Storytellers, this might be a chance to prepare."

the meeting contnued, with questions about the dream, but by the end the answer was clear, they migt be back, and that is all they knew. The fleets were assembeled in secret and sent to the far reaches of the empire and the meeting in the chamber of time ended with every member feeling dread over them.

Another thing was made clear at the meeting...in thought, not word, That this time Onosians would rather die than flee again.

The hyperspace timer ticked down to zero. As it did, the 3rd Irish Hive Fleet reverted back to realspace. After a few minutes of pinging stars and consulting data maps, the Irish Military Command (IMC) realised that they were near the Rim.

On the bridge of the flagship, Fianas Dreams, Fleet Commander James Connel looked over his bridge crew. They were already busy, directing escort ships and sensor probes. He waited for any important information.

He checked over his fleet manifest, making sure they were all there. His sensors pinged the shapes of destroyers and frigates of various types, lumbering to protect the numerous Hive ships and freighters that made up the civilian population that the IMC was charged with protecting. Troopships filled with Irish Guard soldiers and Irish Marine elites were prepped and ready to be launched to protect the fleet and secure a new home for the civilians.

A trio of scout vessels accelerated away from the fleet, into the void of space.

Fluidic Space
The currents of the dimension known as fluidic space rippled with motion, several beings traversing the semi-liquid form of the dimension, cutting through the matter that formed Fluidic space. The creatures thought-waved back and forth to one another, moving towards a vortex tearing a giant hole into the fabric of the space, seemingly curling down into an infinitely small space, like a black hole. The creatures seemed to almost ignore the vortex, driving right towards it, then diving into the vortex itself, and vanishing as they fell into the singularity.

Real Space
Five Bioships drove headfirst out of the dimensional tear, the purple rift behind them belching up the creatures as they entered the realm of the Amazonian Dominion, near the border world of Oron-Kira. Four synthetic, metallic cruisers swayed nearby, the light of the bright planet glistening off their metal hulls as they transferred information to the bioships via tight-beam transmissions that could be collected by the organic beings. Without a word or move, the bioships were off, angling towards Menoon, the only border conduit of the Dominion...

"How the hell could this have happened?!" yelled Octavian from his bench within the Curia. "How could a planet as lush as Niss be completely devoid of life? What happened to it? No plants, trees, grass, not even the remains of one of the planets citizens. I call for the immeadiate investigation of this, so the Senate can properly address this folly that has occured within Republican territory, in the Taledonian province no less!" Thunderous applause rang through the Senate chamber as the leaders of the Republic took in fully the gravity of the situation, and became angry at the afront to their dignity.

"I can assure you, Senators," replied Aetius, "That I have dispatched an elite cohort from the provinces prviate legion, Primigenia, to make a more official evaluation of the situation. We shall discover the truth behind this...this...I cannot even speculate as to what we are dealing with at the moment. The planetary governor simply renounced the Republic, and the next thing we know is the planet is barren. I do not even believe the Chronosian Imperium could have done this without leaving noticable marks on the surface."


"No traces of any biological infectants within the soil." The scientist reported to the Tribune who was overseeing his experiment with a detachement of soldiers. "We've been over this planet several times with a fine comb, and have found nothing. It's as if a swarm of locusts just came in and devoured everything then flew off into space."

"Motherfu...what the hell am I suppose to report back to Taledonia?" The Tribune swore under his breath. A vibration at his side caused him to take out his comm link. "Centurion?"

"Sir, we've picked up a hyperspace trail and tracked it. It appears to be leading towards an empty sector of space. I've taken the liberty of relaying this information to Pro-Consul Aetius, sir."



"Blank space?" Cassius said skeptically, "Could be mercs, but why would they attack the Republic? There's no motive, no gain, and they didn't even take any prisoners or loot that we can see, besides, they wouldn't have the power to accomplish that."

The aid that was scurrying with the Pro-Consul quickened his pace to keep up with his taller superior, "The Consul has already commisioned a vessel to investigate, they're already en route."

And so the ancestors ride with us....


Fleets were called up into service and sent to the farthest reaches of the star system, no one, except those very high up in the political or military casts, knew of the true mission, many ships had both Randar and Tarkand on-board working as one, living as one.

The Liir who were water-dwellers, could not serve with others and had specially designed ships and armor for themselfs, these were used as scout ships and are filled with super-oxigenated liquid, giving the Liir the ability so move freely making them very heavy, Liir scientists solved this by tthe development of a special drive that these ships possesed, the skip-drive, which instead of moving a ship with regular purpulsion, the skip-drive would teleport the ship through slip-space at increadable speeds at a maximum of 1m per 1/10th of a milisecond, making it harder to track, though it still possesed the slip-drive for long distance travel, the power to maintain its radar system and engine left the weapons at a low point indeed. But is gave the Onosian fleets great flexibility.

And the senate with all military commanders planned for the great battle the Var'Ko'Na had forseen, simulation using the old scriptures to represent battle tactics of the Uknavar, were put through computers, adding various variables, but these were ancient and were not reliable, and yet they were all they had, and still even the ancient battle tactics proved difficult for even a "vastly superior" navy of Onosis.

The situation looked bleek...at best.

Semko laughed as he sat at the booth talking to his vice president juni and a few of his old smuggling buddies. It had been a good night all in all, with plenty of Arcadian ale to go around, not to mention the notorious fun of zero gravity. It wasn’t a party or anything special, this is how most nights at the Free-Flight dance dome went down and the president's visit was no different. Gravity was of course adjustable all around the large building with the exception of the main dace floor where patrons glided through the air in a weightless waltz. Semko had just manage to talk his vice president into another (noticeably slower) dance and he and his friends enjoyed the peace that had become accustomed during his presidency.

(( Man all this military postureing.... Someone's got to take the edge off things.))

Semko laughed as he sat at the booth talking to his vice president juni and a few of his old smuggling buddies. It had been a good night all in all, with plenty of Arcadian ale to go around, not to mention the notorious fun of zero gravity. It wasn’t a party or anything special, this is how most nights at the Free-Flight dance dome went down and the president's visit was no different. Gravity was of course adjustable all around the large building with the exception of the main dace floor where patrons glided through the air in a weightless waltz. Semko had just manage to talk his vice president into another (noticeably slower) dance and he and his friends enjoyed the peace that had become accustomed during his presidency.

(( Man all this military postureing.... Someone's got to take the edge off things.))

Um, Spell Check much?

It was night. The sky above the nation of A_B began to glow. Then a bright point was seen, which expanded to fill the sky. Then suddenly it was gone. It was soon forgot about when suddenly a distress signal was heard at the capitol. Skuzzsock's central command informed Anarchy_Balsac that their space station was sucked into a worm-hole of some sort. Immediatly he responeded with confusion. What was he to do? He couldn't lose his closest ally but did not know how to get them out.

Suddenly, units poured from above and attacked the nation. However A_B's citizens were prepared for such an attack. They were infamous for shooting down segals and kites out of paranoia. The attackers stood no chance and before everyone knew it the attackers stopped comming.................for a while at least. But then there was another wave of attackers, much larger than before. The AA lasers were strong and effective, but they only held out so long. Before they knew it they were over taken and the nation was occupied by these invaders, who next set their sites on the shade below.

Hyperspace, unknown segment, unknown quadrant:

"Damnation, Comrade First Officer," growled Comrade-Centralman Elect Cullen, "where the hell are we?"
"I don't know, Comrade-Centralman Elect," said Olkinoura, as she leant back in her chair, "but then again, it's got to be better than where we came from."
"Very true, Yala," sighed Cullen, "very true. Alright. Hard-vox the other Fleets and inform them that we'll exit Hyperspace in ... what time do you make it, number two?"
"Twenty-two fifty hours, Centralman," chattered the main computer, "and fifteen seconds."
"Exit Hyperspace in ten minutes, at twenty three hundred, then."
"Very well, Centralman. Anarchy prevails!"
"Anarchy prevails, First," replied the Centralman, as he sank into the command throne of the 260km long Interstellar Anarchist.

Klaxons blared and lights flashed throughout the five massive starships as they prepared for the slam-halt of Hyperspace/Realspace interchange. As one, they blackshifted into the universe, moving at .8C, and straight into an inhabited system...

Captain James sat in the chair of his ship. You could see tension in his eyes as he waited for a reply from command. Beeps began to sound on the bridge. An Ensign at the communications desk pushed a few buttons and addressed the captain. "Sir Communication coming in from command." "On screen." "Aye Captain." The image of an old man in his late 60s with a short white mustache appeared on the screen. "Captain James." "Admiral Hughes." Captain replied with a slight wince. The captain and the admiral didn’t not usually get along. The admiral in the first place protested the "Boy" being put in command of the Capital ship. "We have received your report. We are dispatching a fleet to your position. I will be commanding it personally." "Yes Admiral. I understand." "Do not do anything until I arrive is that clear?" The admiral said with a very deep and harsh tone." "Crystal Sir." "Admiral Hughes Out." The captain breathed a deep sigh of relief as the admirals image disappeared from the screen.

For Captain Petersen, this day had started just like any other. His patrol picket of his Assault Frigate-II and the 2 accompanying Gunships was on its routine sweep of the outer edge of the Skgorria system.
Not that there is any real point in us being here, it's not like anyone is going to come here Petersen mused, sitting back in his chair. Sure, they'd faced some pirates in the days after the Exodus and various other threats en route, but no-one had come to the SKgorria system for years. The bridge crew dutifully went about their tasks and various instruments pinged and buzzed, indicating things to their operators.
"Status of our friends?" Petersen asked of his First Officer. Rather than bother opening communications, the First Officer simply check the telelmetry feed coming from both Gunships.
"All is well sir, no problems" came the report
"Thankyou First Officer" Petersen dismissed the man with a wave of his hand. It would be time to check on the Gunships in another 15 minutes. I could fall asleep right here...

Claxons suddenly blared over the bridge and the crew was shaken out of their tedium.
"Report!" bellowed Captain Petersen, adjusting his cap that had slipped during his quick nap.
"Objects exited from hyperspace sir!" a crewman called, "Sir, they're..." the words stopped in the crewman's mouth.
"Dammnit man, what's going on?" Petersen got no answer from the man. Snarling, he directed his attention on another. "Tell me what is going on or I swear you won't live to see tomorrow!"
The crewman sweated nervously, "Sir, these ships are over 250 km long. 5 of 'em sir"
"WHAT? CHeck your sensors" Petersen was very worried, "alert the gunboats too, and bring us about to face them."
The picket turned to face the huge new arrivals who seemed to be making no hostile moves. They could now be seen out of the bridge windows, and Petersen stood up and took a couple of paces forward, utterly transfixed.
"SIR!" called the First Officer, "we need to alert Skgorria Prime!" But he got no response, the Captain was lost trying to compute the immense size of the ships before him. Cursing, the First Officer stepped over to the communications operator.
"Contact Skgorria Prime, tell them what is happening here."
"Understood" the operator went about his work, telling a distant operator on the surface what was going on.
"Communications, hail them." Captain Petersen was still staring, his voice that of a dreaming child, wondering what the new arrivals would say...

As the vast forms of the Ultra-class vessels began the long, slow deceleration to .5 light, they launched their fighter screens. Larger, more ponderous vessels began preparing to leave their cavernous hangar bays. Softvox nets sprang to life, the chatter connecting the hundreds, now thousands, of fighters to their motherships as they sped onwards into the new system.

On the bridge of the Interstellar Anarchist, a communications technician signalled his Centralman. Another, monitoring the sensor bays, motioned his superior over to inspect the three returns he was getting.

"Centralman," barked the tech, "we're being hailed!"
"On screen, comrade, on screen - we might be able to find out where we are."

The huge wall-mounted viewing and communications screen sprang to life, showing the stunned bridge crew of the alien craft.

Centralman-Elect Cullen gasped, and his hand dropped, automatically, to his service pistol. Then he remembered, and grinned, raising his hand to his forehead in mocking salute.

"Skgorrian navy, I see! What a coincidence! I am Centralman-Elect Cullen, and the ships you can see about you are Atopiana. I never thought I'd see a Fascist again as long as I lived..."

As the vast forms of the Ultra-class vessels began the long, slow deceleration to .5 light, they launched their fighter screens. Larger, more ponderous vessels began preparing to leave their cavernous hangar bays. Softvox nets sprang to life, the chatter connecting the hundreds, now thousands, of fighters to their motherships as they sped onwards into the new system.

On the bridge of the Interstellar Anarchist, a communications technician signalled his Centralman. Another, monitoring the sensor bays, motioned his superior over to inspect the three returns he was getting.

"Centralman," barked the tech, "we're being hailed!"
"On screen, comrade, on screen - we might be able to find out where we are."

The huge wall-mounted viewing and communications screen sprang to life, showing the stunned bridge crew of the alien craft.

Centralman-Elect Cullen gasped, and his hand dropped, automatically, to his service pistol. Then he remembered, and grinned, raising his hand to his forehead in mocking salute.

"Skgorrian navy, I see! What a coincidence! I am Centralman-Elect Cullen, and the ships you can see about you are Atopiana. I never thought I'd see a Fascist again as long as I lived..."


OOC: Me thinks that was a kinda godmod.

OOC: THose ships are his whole nation, and seeing as though he has no way or resources to replace or repair them...meh :P

IC: "Skgorrian Space Forces actually" corrected Petersen. Things were growing more strange by the minute, Atopians here? The last time the two people had been in contact was back on Earth, but that was ancient history now. Petersen was suddenly glad he'd elected to take History as his Academic Subject during school.
"Fighters being launched!" came the call, "unknown how many."
"What do you mean unknown?" Petersen rounded on the crewman, ignoring the Atopian for the time being.
"Take a look," the crewman waved at his scanner screen. 5 large blotches were visible indicating the Atopian vessels, whilst a far smaller 3 were his picket. A large flucuating mass was heading towards them.
"The fighters?" Petersen got a worried nod in return.
"Atopian, our peoples have had their troubles (A Massive undestatment if ever one was made!) but perhaps here amongst the stars we can have a fresh start. I have not ordered my ships to power their weapons up or make any agressive moves, I have no desire to start a fight. Particularly one I cannot win." He smirked and bowed, trying to cover up his intense fear. That's more fighters than I've ever seen! Rising from his bow, the Skgorrian saluted.
"Captain Petersen of the Skgorrian Space Forces, a pleasure to meet you Chairman-Elect. I don't suppose you could call off your fighters?"

"Certainly, Captain Petersen," grinned Cullen as he realised that, for the first time in the long history of struggle between the two nations, the Atopians had the upper hand. Perhaps leaving last in the Exodus hadn't been a bad thing after all, he mused, even as he continued, "the fighter screen was simply a precaution, you know? One must always take precautions when entering the unknown."

"Centralman," hissed Olkinoura, "outlying drone-scouts have reported back that one of the planets - the second one from the system's sun - is extensively colonised. The other three appear to be industrial complexes, probably mining. What action should we take?"

"Captain Petersen," Cullen said as he waved acknowledgement to Olkinoura, "we have had a long journey and would like to halt, rest, and generally get our bearings. We will enter orbit around the planet furthest from this sun, and will enter diplomatic relations with Skgorria within the week - Earth Standard Time, of course. Until then, I must say goodbye, Captain."

With that, the wall screen blanked, and Cullen began to laugh. Through his tears, he gave orders.

Fighters peeled off by squadron, and returned to their bays. Capital ships powered down inside their hangars. Drones began to seed themselves even more thoroughly through the system, and the five huge vessels began course corrections, heading for the fourth world...

Edge of Skgorria System

As the image of the Atopian commander disappeared, Petersen began to shake himself out of his stupour. Get a grip man, Skgorria needs you! He saw the entire bridge crew were looking at him, waiting for orders. Taking a deep breath, Petersen turned to his scanner operator.
"Those fighters being recalled?"
"Yes captain" the scanner operator confirmed, "and those captial ships have returned to their hangars."
"Hangars for capships" Petersen shook his head in disbelief "Who would have thought it."
"But sir, our Sovereign vessels can hold smaller capships" ventured Petersen's tactical officer.
"But not Star Destroyers," corrected the Captain, "those ships are immense in size. Comms, any word from Skgorria Prime?"
The communications officer nodded, "yes sir, we've been ordered to follow the Atopian fleet and not to provoke them. Didn't they say they were going to orbit Skgorria 4?"
"I believe so, but there's not a lot we can do is there? The whole of the Skgorrian Space Forces might be able to beat one of those vessels, but 5? It's not likely at all. Inform Skgorria Prime that the Atopians want to orbit the planet and will establish diplomatic relations within the week. Helm, signal the Atopians and tell them to follow us. We will lead them to Skgorria 4. Go to 1/4 sublight and see if it's too fast"
"Understood sir" the helmsman coaxed the engines to life and the picket moved towards Skgorria 4.

Fuhrerbunker, Skgorria Prime

"So that's the situation sir" the attache completed his emergency briefing of the Leader. The briefing room was still dark with the only illumination a projection screen showing a recently taken picture of the Atopian vessels. The Leader sat behind his desk flanked by a pair of bodyguards.
"The Atopians eh? After all these years, the chances of meeting out here are ridiculously small." The Leader mused, reclining slightly in his big leather chair. "I must commend the actions of this Captain Petersen, though I was slightly disturbed to discover that the Atopians are going to orbit Skgorria 4. What is the status of our garrison there?"
The attache operated a remote and a new picture appeared on the screen, this one being a breakdown of Skgorria 4 and its defenses.
"As you know sir, Skgorria 4 mining operations contribute only 5% to our total metal resources and thus you judged it not worthy of heavy defenses. It does have a planetary shield but not ground to space weaponry. In orbit is the transit station used to transfer materials brought from the surface to frieghters but it is lightly armed and not crewed by the military. We have 2 wings of ground-based starfighters there as well as 2 Star Destroyers, 4 Nebluon B-2 Frigates, 10 Assault Frigates and 30 Corellian Gunships. Sizeable enough to deter pirate attack, but nowhere near enough to stop the Atopians if they choose to go hostile."
"Very well, perhaps the small size of the garrison will help not to provoke them. What tactical options do we have in regards to these vessels?"
"Frankly sir, not a lot. Judging by the scan readouts we've recieved these vessels are generating a HUGE ammount of energy so it's likely they can power all those weapon emplacements visible on the surface. There doesn't seem to be a blind spot, and if there is any then their escorts will likely cover it. We haven't given up, we just need more time and data. Those picket vessels are thankfully giving us both."
"It seems Captain Petersen is a very loyal and competent son of Skgorria, I shall have to find a suitable way to reward him. Thankyou Lieutenant" The Leader waved his hand in a dismissal, to which the attache responded with a crisp salute and an about-face. He then began planning how he would handle negotiations with the Atopians
So Project Ultra was completed after all...

As the Skgorrian picket vessels accelerated to .25 C, the Grand Fleet swung into a vee-formation with the Vanguard in the lead. Passive and active scanners continued their sensor sweeps of the system, while hyperspace-capable drones continued their scanning of the planets and the Skgorrian vessels. Communications were monitored and supercomputers began dedicating banks of processors to decryption routines.

Atopians throughout the five ships joked and laughed as they went about their business, exulting in the knowledge that their vagrant nation was now far more powerful than their old enemy...

The Central Council Chamber of the Vanguard:

"Comrades," began the Chair-elect, a short and portly woman in her late 60s, "we once again confront our great enemies. It is a matter worthy of Full Discussion - and I hand the floor to Centralman-Elect Cullen of the Interstellar Anarchist."
"Thank you, Comrade Chair-elect. Comrades," he said as he stood, "today we exited Hyperspace for the first time in a month. We have found a habitable system. There is just one problem - it's inhabited. By Skgorrians. We thought that after the Exodus we would never see a national socialist again, and today we have. Better still, we clearly outmatch them - although the fascists are not to be underestimated!
"They appear, according to our sensor reports so far, to have inhabited all four planets. Their vessels are at roughly the same technological level as our escorts - Star Destroyers and the like. One drone reported the presence of a Sovereign-class vessel, but it seems that this is one of their most powerful weapons.
"Our choice is threefold. We can leave, and search for a new, uninhabited system. We can attack while they wait for us to open diplomatic proceedings, and destroy them utterly. Or, we can open diplomatic relations and see what happens. I personally recommend destroying them utterly."

Uproar greeted Centralman Cullen's words, and the session stretched on into the night. By the time the session had finished, the Grand Fleet was in orbit around Skgorria-IV, with its own pickets and fighter patrols guarding it.

Atopiana and Skgorria were once more neighbours - and tensions were high on both sides...

Bridge of the "Black Standard"

An emergency meeting of Skgorrian military autorities present at Skgorria IV had been called to the bridge of the Sovereign-class Star Destroyer "Black Standard", one of the largest vessels in the Skgorrian Space Forces and the largest one present at Skgorria IV. Present were the elected Colonial Kommondant, the senior officers of the Space Forces and Army and Captain Petersen. Petersen felt rather uncomfortable in the presence of such powerful figures, and the fact the Colonial Kommondant was outraged at Petersen didn't make him feel any better...
"TRAITOR!" the Kommondant exploded "You lead the enemy to our home ground without even firing a shot! How dare you sit in front of me and tell me that this is an enemy that cannot be beaten? We are SKgorrians, NOTHING can stand before us!"
"Tell that to me when you've actually seen those ships" spat back Petersen "they could wipe out this vessel and all others around this planet without needing to fire the same weapon twice!"
"Cowardly guttersnipe!" The Kommondant spat "you Space Force idiots are all the same, ever since we wiped out the last C'Vortok you've been weak. War makes men strong, and Skgorria stronger!"
This did not sit well with the Commodore in charge of the Space Force garrison.
"Moderate your words Kommondant, or they will be your last" whispered the Commodore.
"I WILL DO NO SUCH THING!" The Kommondant ranted, "I am in charge here and nothing will be done without my consent. LEAVE NOW!"
The 3 military officers stood up and left. As the doors closed behind them, isolating the Kommondant and his rage, the 3 officers turned to each other.
"Something has to be done" the Army general frantically whispered "If that fool remains in authority, Skgorria and National Socialism die!"
"Agreed" Petersen realised that they were speaking dangerous words, but it was necessary if Skgorria was to survive.
"If the Fuhrer knew, he would be appalled at the idiocy of this last vestige of democracy. I will send a courier to Skgorria Prime" promised the Commodore. "In the meantime, meet with the Atopians and tell them what is happening. I want to make sure we don't startle them into annihilating us."
"Yes Sir!" saluted Petersen and marched off to the shuttle bay.
I can't believe what I'm doing he mused as his pilot flew him to the Atopian vessels. He sent out a message asking for permission to board and stating that he was unarmed

"Comrade deck officer," intoned one of the communications crew from her pit, "there is a Lambda-class shuttle broadcasting in clear. They say they're unarmed and come bearing vital and urgent news."
"How many are aboard?"
"Scans indicate... four life signs and an astromech, as expected. Nothing else."
"Very well, Anja," began the youthful officer of the watch, "inform Comrade-Armsman-Elect that if she and fifty of her best could get themselves to docking bay 293 at once, the bridge would be pleased."

Turning in his chair to face his control console, he keyed the switch which would link him to docking bay central control.

"Bridge to Bay Central," he said, "prepare bay 293 for a possibly hostile craft. Let it land, but don't let anyone off until the Armsmen get there."
"At once, bridge," came the reply, "you think the nazis'll try anything?"
"They'd be damn fools if they did, but I'm not taking any chances, Simon."
"Good lad," laughed the bay controlman, "we'll make a spacer of you yet!"
"Alright, alright, save it for later. I have to contact the Armsmen again."
"Wilco. Out."

Flicking another switch, he opened a line to the Armsman-Elect, the officer in charge of the hundreds of thousands of armsmen aboard the Interstellar Anarchist.
"Anne, just to tell you that you're to isolate and neutralise the shuttle, and bring all the passengers to the bridge - alive!"
"Will do. We're on our way now. We should be there before the shuttle arrives."
"If you're not, don't worry, the bay is clear and scans indicate no more than four and an astromech."
"I'll assume twenty and combat droids then."
"You have such confidence in our intelligence!"
"I'll have confidence in intel when it's accurate. Out."
She's a cold one, that Frank, thought Marks, but that's best for a combat officer I suppose.

The bridge continued its routine work, even as the shuttle grew closer...

Lambda shuttle, nearing Atopian fleet

Petersen knew things weren't going well when the pilot screamed "shit!" and began to pound the console. As a gut reflex both of the Kriegsmarine on board lifted their weapons up and flicked off the safeties. Petersen took a more constructive approach and looked at the instrument readouts.
"What's the problem?" he asked as the shuttle began to shudder and the beeping of the command console took on a frenzied tone.
"We're in a tractor beam, I can't break free!" wibbled the pilot. The shuttle was growing closer to one of the Atopian vessels, and Petersen believed that he could see turrets tracking the shuttle. "Power down the engines, look like the Atopians are drawing us in." The pilot obeyed, though Petersen thought he could see tears in the pliot's eyes. Typically, the stoic Kriegsmarine said nothing, though saw one of them fiddling with a high explosive grenade.
"No, put it away." He rebuked the soldier, "we're not going to board them."
The two Kriegsmarine exchanged glances, then they both sighed and safed their weapons.
"Everyone stay calm" Petersen instructed "and I'm sure we'll all be fine." His commanding aura calmed the men.
Or so he would have hoped, the pilot actually started crying as the shuttle was drawn into the hangar bay and set down with a large thud.

As the shuttle banged down onto the deck of Bay 239, the Armsmen arrived. Clattering into the bay in their armoured vacuum suits, carrying their beam-guns and portable blast shields, they fanned out around the shuttle. Automatic turrets within the bay targeted the Lambda, their red-glowing IR targetlights looking like hungry eyes.

Silence fell.

After a few moments, the Armsmen began to look at each other, warily. Frank shrugged, and stepped forwards, her beam-rifle held loosely in her left hand. She stepped up to the grey-painted shuttle, and banged her right hand on the main hatch.

"Hoi," she yelled through her helmet's amplifier, "are you coming out or not?"

On another frequency, she ordered the troops in front of the shuttle to make 'come-here' gestures at the cockpit. They began to do so immediately - a mildly absurd sight as the matt-black armoured suits began what seemed like a jig.

Bay control, meanwhile, hailed the shuttle. "Bay 239 to Shuttle, feel free to come out any time soon. Bay 239 to Shuttle... we mean you no harm. Unlike you, we're peace loving!"

"WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE!" wailed the pilot as he lay on the floor in the foetal position, hugging his knees and sobbing.
"You are proving remarkably distracting - Kriegsmarine, stun this man." Petersen was trying to work out what to do, and having this man bawl his eyes out was certainly not helping.
"Sir" acknowledged the soldiers, both of them firing a singe stun blast into the mewling pilot. Blue shockwaves enveloped his body, silencing him instantly.
"Thankyou men, hopefully that will be all you have to shoot." Petersen turned back to the front viewport and saw the armed figures waving for the Skgorrians to come out. A message had been recieved via the comm system indicating the same, and Petersen thought it was best to come out quickly rather than wait and let the Atopians get angry. Giving a thumbs up to the Atopians, Petersen moved to the back of the shuttle.
"Hello there miss" called out Petersen, we'll be coming down now so please move away from the hatch. We'll leave all our weapons on board" he said, glancing at the Kriegsmarine meaningfully. He then pressed the control and the hydraulics began to hiss.
"Bring him along" he told the Kriegsmarine, waving at the pilot. They both hoisted him up and carried him between them, one arm of the pilot over each Kriegsmarine's shoulder. The ramp was lowered, exposing the shuttle's innards to the harsh light of the bay.
Now or never he thought, walking down the ramp towards the armed figures

As the Skgorrians came down the ramp, the Armsmen reformed in a defensive semi-circle around their leader and the newcomers.

"So," grated Frank's voice from the speaker grille, "real live Skgorrians. Comrade Brand, scan them for weapons."
"At once, comrade!" came the reply.
"If you're found to be free of weapons, you will come with us to the bridge. Any monkey business and we will shoot you out of hand. And these things," she waved the beam-gun in front of the first Skgorrian - Petersen, she thought, odd... he seems familiar, somehow... - "these things don't have a stun setting. They go from 'off' to 'kill'. Comprende?"

Brand's scanner beeped, three times, and the screen glowed green.

"All clear, Comrade Frank, nothing on them."
"Excellent. Follow me, gentlemen - and remember, no tricks."

The Atopians seemed completely unphased by the unconscious pilot and asked no questions about him. The Kriegsmarine continued to carry him between them, and drew themselves up higher so as to show their lack of fear for the impressively bulky Atopians.

As the party walked across the hangar bay, Petersen noted how similar in style the construction and architecture was to the Skgorrian vessels. Still, I suppose it's to be expected seeing as though we both used the same templates he realised. The bay was unused in any way, a few miscellaneous cargo crates or somesuch were piled up in one corner but it seemed this area of the ship was deserted.
"Bet when you were in bootcamp you didn't think you'd be doing this eh?" Petersen asked the nearest Kriegsmarine soldier, both of which seemed completely identical in their full body armour and insignia-less uniforms. "No sir" The soldier shrugged, and then poked the pilot in the ribs.
"Still unconscious sir" he reported.
Petersen sighed, "thankyou trooper," and directed his next question at the leader of the Atopian group in the hope of some civilised conversation.
"Pardon me miss, my name is Captain Petersen. I do apologise for not having introduced myself earlier, I was just rather rattled. Might I have the pleasure of your name?"

Never letting go of her weapon, Frank tapped her right hand on her armoured suit's left breastplate.

"It's stamped on my armour, Skgorrian. Can't you read?"

Behind her armoured visage, she grinned. The Skgorrian wasn't bad-looking... for a nazi. His uniform suited him. Its cut emphasised his impressive build, and underlined his authority and the power that went with the Skgorrian military.

Of course, now the Atopians were the powerful ones. I hope we can stop the violence between us, thought Frank as the little column marched on, if only so I can engage in some ... fraternisation.

The Bridge of the Interstellar Anarchist:

"Voting begins NOW!" boomed the loudspeakers, as the Course of Action Options scrolled across screens mounted around the bridge. As one, the bridge crew lifted their datapads and began to vote. Across the Grand Fleet, every Atopian was engaged in an automatic, ingrained process. No matter what you were doing, when the central computers began the Vote, you voted. What else could you do? For hundreds of years and several generations, before even the Exodus, Atopians had been brought up from birth that everyone voted, and everyone was in power.

Within a day, the Grand Fleet would have its course of action decided. Preliminary polling software indicated that the majority of Atopians wanted to open diplomatic relations, and put an end to over a thousand years of genocidal bloodshed between Skgorria and Atopia.

The Grand Fleet:

Even as the Vote began, as the armsmen led the Skgorrians to the bridge, the Grand Fleet was coming on-station. The five vessels orbiting Skgorria-IV had formed a defensive sphere - 500 km in radius. Three of the giant craft formed the plane of defence, with the other two facing 'up' and 'down' respectively. Engines pointed inwards, defended by the presence of the other ships. Weapons batteries and ship AIs computed lanes of fire and overlaps. Gunnery officers began to run their checks, and fighters began patrolling through the sphere. Four Star Destroyers detached themselves from the Freedom and began boosting out to picket positions, supported by cruisers and TIE-Defenders.

Regardless of the Skgorrian promises, regardless of the Vote, the Grand Fleet was taking no chances...

En route to the Bridge

"Ah, apologies Miss...Frank" Petersen said with a slight bowing of his head as a mark of respect. True enough, her name was indeed painted onto her combat suit in big letters that read FRANK, ANNE. He was puzzled by the name as it seemed oddly familiar to him,but the memory was of the faintest kind and even as he tried to grab it, it floated away like straw in the wind. I wonder what she looks like under all that armour Petersen wondered, though if she's the same as our Kriegsmarine then she won't take that armour off unless ordered. A pity

As the group continued to walk to the bridge accompanied by the light clack of Petersen's jackboots and the heavier thud of the Kriegsmarine and the Atopians, the walls boomed "Voting begins NOW!". Petersen jumped back in suprise, reaching automatically for his pistol holster that was empty. The Kriegsmarine glanced around in a seeming nonchalant manner, whilst the pilot was still under the effects of the stun bolt. The column kept marching on, and Petersen was able to observe screens coming to life and crewmen and women taking out small pads and pressing them.

How wasteful thought Petersen if this is how major command decisions are made then there must be severe delays and weakness. Wisely Petersen decided to keep these thoughts to himself and not voice them to the numerous, and above all armed, Atopians around him. He saw what appeared to be large blast doors and hoped that the bridge was near...

Orbit of Skgorria IV

The Skgorrian flotilla (it would be hard pressed to call itself a fleet) witnessed the shift of the Atopian battleships and the deployment of pickets. It seemed that the Atopians had placed their ships away from prexisting orbits and patrol patterns of the Skgorrian garrison. No hostile moves were made on the part of the Skgorrians, no additional craft were launched except for a sqaudron of ground-based recon TIEs who were scheduled to depart on a weekly mission. Meanwhile, sensor operators detected a fast courier ship inbound carrying a priority message for the Commodore...

The little group had been walking for ten minutes now, and, along the way, had passed many of the blue-overalled crew. Children, occasionally, peered around corners and giggled, with the more adventurous goose-stepping alongside the armoured armsmen, or hitching rides on the power suit's legs.

Rounding a corner, the party arrived at last at a transport shaft. Maglev-carriages shot past on the other side of the track - and another glided smoothly to a halt in front of the little group.

An armsman shooed away the last of the children, gave a thumbs-up to the platform's controller, and the group got on board.

Within five minutes, the carriage had arrived at the bridge station's armoured doors. They hissed open, and the car glided through, and stopped.

"All out," ordered Frank, "last stop on the line, comrades." Stepping out, she motioned the others forwards, past her. Hidden by her helmet, she cast a lingering glance at Petersen. He really is quite tasty...

Petersen had certainly been amused by the antics of the children, although not a family man himself he enjoyed playing with the children of his sister whenever he visited her on leave. Sadly that's less than I would like, but still one must not put his/her needs before Party and State.

The train system inside the ship was of great interest to the Skgorrian captain, as he knew the SS operated a similar system on board their Sovereign-class vessels. It made for rapid transit across the whole vessel, though Petersen questioned the reliability of such a system under fire. Perhaps they have multiple layers of redundancy, but if this system goes out then you could be potentially hundreds of kilometres from where you want to be he considered. Nevertheless, he was certainly very impressed by it. The pilot had finally come round and had regained a sense of composure when threatened with another stunning, whilst the Kriegsmarine troopers stood silently waiting for orders.

As the party left the carriage, Petersen smiled at Frank as he passed her. "Thankyou Miss Frank" he smiled, seeing no harm in maintaining a cheery demeanour. So Skgorria and Atopiana were lifelong racial enemies, dating back right from the founding of Skgorria, it didn't mean they couldn't get along now, did it? They all reached the bridge and drew to a halt before this Cullen figure.

Extending his right arm in the Roman salute, Petersen introduced himself and his party. "Chairman-elect Cullen, good to see you in the flesh. May I present my companions," Petersen then turned to the 3 other Skgorrians. All 3 of them saluted and introduced themselves. "Kriegsmarine trooper TK-421" stated one trooper, whilst the other said "Kriegsmarine trooper TK-422". The pilot swallowed, and managed to stutter out "E-e-ensign Tschell, sir".

Petersen then adressed Cullen, "is there somewhere we can talk in private? I have rather urgent and sensitive news"

Surveying the blank visages of the Stormtrooper's armour, the shaking and clearly nervous Ensign, and the calm exterior of Petersen, the First Officer smiled.

"Apologies, but I'm not Centralman Cullen. He's on the Vanguard at the moment. I'm First Officer Mackan, the woman to my left is Watch Officer Olkinoura, and we act in his stead for now - and the bridge is as private as you will get, I'm afraid."

Not Cullen? But he looks so damn similar, must be a relation of some sorts Petersen mused.

"Well never mind that, I'm here to deliver a rather critical message. Our colony Kommondant is acting against orders and is believed to trying to convince some of our space forces here to launch an attack against your fleet. I'm here to tell you that the Leader truly wished peace between our two peoples and that any hostile action launched against you is not an indicator of our government's policy. I doubt he'll be able to rustle up more than a few frigates, but you should put your people to alert. I have no wish to see unnecessary blood spilled."

Petersen fervently hoped the Atopian believed him, or else things were going to get rather bad....

Raising his eyebrow, the First Officer glanced at Olkinoura. She grimaced, and nodded.

Thumbing his chair's keypad, Mackan spoke confidently and calmly.

"This is the Bridge to all hands. Go at once to Alert Red. Repeat, Bridge to all hands - go at once to Alert Red. Olkinoura has the Bridge."

Standing, he began to cross to the main doors, without a second glance at the Skgorrians. As he strode, he began calling out orders to various bridge crew. Olkinoura, meanwhile, sat in the command chair, and gestured up the VR command screen.

"Right," said Frank, "You lot - come with us. Leave the war to the bridge, eh? Stam, you take squads 4 and 5 and go to Quarters. I'll keep 1 and 2. Squad 3, go to your boarding pods."

As she finished, her troopers began - with the illusion of effortlessness born of constant drill - executing her orders. The detailed squads vanished through doors in the bridge, and Frank led the - now reduced - party through the main doors. After they slipped through, the huge blast doors rolled into place and mag-locked with a final thunk.

Picket Seven, Skgorrian System:

"Flash-comm from the Grand Fleet, comrades, we're to watch out for renegade Skgorrians who are liable to attack us," called the communications officer on board the ASD Nestor Mahkno.
"Speak of the devil...! Contacts," sang out the sensor officer, "closing at .75 light, closing fast. I count 11 vessels of cruiser size, and a fighter blip. Closing at .78 light. Closing on heading 178-981-001. Closing..."

"They're going to slaughter our men" wailed Tschell, "how can you let that happen?" he complained as the party was hustled down back towards the Mag-Lev train. Petersen stopped and grabbed Tschell by the front of his tunic.
"Listen here ensign I am your captain and you will do as I say. Now if you question my order once more I will ask one of the Kriegsmarine to lend me their chainsabres so I can cut you into little pieces! The future of Skgorria is at stake here, now grow up!" Petersen threw the man into a bulkhead, but Tschell rebounded awkwardly and fell over. In the process Tschell smacked his head on the boot of an armoured Atopian and lost consciousness. Sighing, Petersen checked his pulse and felt that it was still strong.
"I don't suppose I could get this man some medical attention?" he asked.

Approaching Picket Seven

The rebel Skgorrian fleet consisted of 1 Assault Frigate, 2 Nebulon B2 Frigates, 8 Gunships and 3 fighter squadrons. On board the Assault Frigate the Colonial Kommondant watched as his group sped towards the Atopian picket. He then broadcasted an open message on a clear frequency so all could hear him.
"Attention Atopians, this is Colonial Kommondant Heydrich. Prepare to be destroyed!" The group then opened fire at maximum range, and fighters began to enage outward patrol elements.

Sighing, Frank gestured towards two of her troopers.

"Pol, Damcer, take this man to the closest sanatorium. Stay with him, and don't let him out of your sight. He's hysterical, and hysterical people give me the jitters."
"Will do, Frank," replied Damcer, as he hefted the limp pilot over his shoulder. He and Pol began jogging down the corridor towards the SanLine maglev.

"That do you," growled Frank, "in case you hadn't noticed, we're at Alert Red. Now - move! We need to get to a bunker-room fast. And you might want to suit up when we get there, Petersen."

The Bridge, ASD Nestor Mahkno:

Stunned silence echoed around the bridge as staff and crew looked at each other in disbelief. Their picket - four ASDs, eight Nebulon-Bs, and several wings of fighters and bombers - alone outmatched the Skgorrians.

The Flag-Captain Elect grinned a feral grin, and replied in kind:

"It's your funeral, fuckwit!"

Laughter roared up from the command pits, and the picket leapt forwards. Shields blinked and shimmered under hits, and the vessels began taking evasive action. Targeting solutions were computed in microseconds by turret guns. Fighter pilots pressed back into their gel-cocoons under 10, 11 or 12 Gee acceleration. Blasts of laser fire whicker-flashed across the void, and the smaller craft began dogfighting at one light-second's distance - 299,793 km apart. The two forces were closing at a combined total of 1.5 light - deadly fast. Human decision making was not limited to program initiation and hope.

An Interceptor disintegrated in a spinning, silent bloom of light as a Defender's shields thudded out of existence, followed shortly by the escape pod's glow. Gun turrets on the Nebulon-B2 Art of Rhetoric vapourised under the pummeling fire of turbolasers. Oxygen fed fires that almost instantly winked out. Corpses hit hard vacuum at .7 C, slamming into pieces as they did so.

From the Vanguard, it all looked slow and delicate - as though one was watching fireflies dancing...

"Thanks Miss Frank, but I'm afraid I have no vacsuit, just my uniform. I'm sure we'll be fine though, and worst comes to worst we can always share yours" he cheekily stated before realising what he had said. Damnit Petersen, you really are dense at times! He only hoped that Frank wouldn't beat the living snot out of him.

Picket Seven

The rebel fleet has been utterly decimated, all that was left was the Assault Frigate. It had been subjected to a merciless ion cannon bomardment that left it utterly defenceless. Shields, drives, weapons, all non-functional. The Kommondant ranted and raved, but the louder he raved the quicker surviving crewmen ran to escape pods and shuttles. They had no desire to be here when the Atopians came, they knew it wouldn't be pretty. The onboard Kriegsmarine began to set up defensive positions in anticpation of a boarding action, whilst bizzarely the highest-ranked Kriegsmarine had given the order for all regular Navy troopers to abandon ship. Perhaps he knew that some blood had to be spilt in order to appease the Atopians, and that there was no point in sacrificing men who had things to live for, whilst all Kriegsmarine had to look forward was war...

The party halted, suddenly. With horrifying slowness, the Armsmen turned to face Petersen. There was silence.

Frank laughed. Doubling up, she laughed and laughed and laughed. The voice amplifiers turned her laugh into a terrible mechanical cackle... and then, almost sobbing with mirth, she clapped Petersen on the shoulder (gently).

"You randy bastard! Unfortunately for us, my suit fits only me - fortunately for you, we have spare suits. Until the emergency is over..."

Picket Seven, Skgorrian Space:

The burning hulks of the rebel Skgorrian vessels hung in space, surrounded by the corpses of their fighters and dead crew. Atopian SAR shuttles weaved in and out of the debris, picking up the survivors of the battle. The picket had lost the Art of Rhetoric in the final seconds to a crippling hit which had shattered its spine and exploded its sublight engines. It had scattered itself across 230,000 cubic kilometres of space...

The Bridge, ASD Nestor Mahkno:

Growling with rage, the Flag-Captain issued the bloodiest order of the action: "Board that Frigate. Tear it apart. Take no prisoners except the Kommandant - Central will want him, dead or alive, but preferably alive. Long live Anarchy!"

As one, across the Picket, Armsmen began strapping into their assault vessels - Daggerships. Triangular-shaped armoured blocks, with an engine at the rear and 100m of armour at the front, they were designed to punch through a crippled ships' sides and deposit their cargos - 50 Armsmen each - into the now-atmosphereless interior.

The picket's vessels circled the crippled frigate, like wolves around a dying deer. As one, they ripple-fired their Daggerships: a thousand, in all. The trip was short, and ended in a tearing, slamming, jolting halt.

Grinning, the Armsmen came out blasting. Beamrifles burnt holes through bulkheads and ship walls. Solid-shot weaponry slammed and thuttered. Blasters returned fire, punching Armsmen off their feet. In the close quarters environment, chainblade met powered fist and monomolecular fighting knives. Grenades and breaching charges blew whole squads to atoms. Tactical rockets ripple-fired from Armsmen's backpack sets.

Got away with that one somehow! Petersen sighed in relief. "Well thankyou for the offer of a suit, I guess it would be advisable for me to put on one. After all Miss Frank, I have a suspicion the only person who you want to cause harm to me is you. Perhaps after all this is finished you would join me onboard my frigate for dinner?"

TK421 and TK422 couldn't believe it, the Captain was flirting at now of all times. They wouldn't mind it normally, but they were getting a bit bored and felt restless and insecure without their weapons.

The Kommondant's Assault Frigate

The Kriegsmarine on board knew there was no hope of reinforcement or rescue, now it was their job to fight and die for a man who neither knew nor cared about them.

But they didn't think about that for one second, for the Kriegsmarine were in their element. It was what they had been trained to do, what they had been raised to do - and in some cases, what they had been bred to do.

The initial attack of the Daggerships had caused massive casualties as many troopers had been sucked into vacuum, the Kriegsmarine commander estimated as much as a third of his force had died then. Now they were falling back, closing blast doors as they went and activating automated defense systems. When Atopians breached the doors they were met by a hail of fire.

Casualties were mounting up on both sides, but the Atopians were winning. It was clear to see, and the Kommondant wasn't pleased to know that.
"What do you mean?" he had protested. The Kommondant had protested even louder when the Kriegsmarine Commander ordered the squad he had detailed to protect the Kommondant to leave him and join the fray. The Kommondant had ranted and raved, but the Commander had just looked back at him with contempt as the blast doors sealed him in. Checking the power gauge on his chainsabre and blaster carbine, the Commander lead his squad to face the Atopians...

OOC: If you don't mind, Atopiana, one of my scout wings is going to stumble across a picket of yours. Oh, and IHF stands for Irish Hive Fleet.

3rd IHF, Scout Wing 4
Commander Molly Wade watched as the hyperspace counter on the bridge ticked to zero. She sat in the command seat on the bridge of the lead ship of the wing, the MC80 Punter (While the MC80s and smaller vessels officially weren't named, the captains often gave them names of their choosing).

Once the counter read 00:00, the MC80 and the other ships of its wing, two Dauntless-class light cruisers (Shamrock and Cutter) and two Sword-Class frigates (Amazonin and Messenger) dropped into realspace, near the rim of a system centered around a blue star. The lead pilot of the Punter looked up from his console.

He reported, "Hyperspace successful. All ships reporting successful-" when the sensors officer cut across him. "Skipper! We're detecting another fleet, several hundred klicks away. No known IFF reading, several frigate-size ships and greater!"

Molly hissed. "Put the wing on yellow alert! Hail them, get the diplomats ready, inform C&C!" she ordered. She leaned back in her command chair, frowned, and waited.

Kommondant's Assault Frigate

Slowly but surely the Kriegsmarine were losing both ground and men. The Atopians were gaining ground mainly due to their superior numbers - for every one shot down, 3 more stepped up to continue the fight.

At the final corridor approach before the Kommondant's office, where he was holed up, the Commander ralied a rough platoon of soldiers. He looked around at the battered and bleeding troopers, and adressed them.
"That door won't hold them for long" the Commander gestured back to a thick blast door. "We make our stand here." Sensing that he should say something else, the Commander added "It's been a pleasure to fight with you all, we've made Skgorria proud." They then dispersed, taking cover behind bulkheads and other places. The door grew white-hot as an Atopian charge began to heat the door in preparation for it blowing inwards.
"Smoke now!" yelled the Commander, and smoke grenades were thrown just as the hatch exploded. As weapons fire shot back and forth in the smokey darkness, the Commander kept his cool. He put a 3-bolt burst into the body of an Atopian, then switched to full auto to discourage his comrades from following.

Yet the line could not be held forever, his men were falling fast. Out of the platoon he had at the start, he had 12 men left and thus it was time.
"Chainsabres to the fore- charge!" he yelled, and the Kriegsmarine contingent drew their weapons and charged. A couple of Kriegsmarine were cut down by fire, but most made it to the packed ranks of the Armsmen. Swinging their chainsabres, they cut a bloody swathe through the Atopians. However one by one the Skgorrians were torn down. The Commander had brought his chainsabre up and blocked a powerfist then sliced it off, followed by its owner's head when an Armsman avenged his comrade by knifing the Commander in the back several times with his monofillament combat knife. Falling, the Commander's last thought was that of regret: that he didn't take more with him

OOC: No worries at all, LNI. :D

Bunker Room 1021-D9, the Interstellar Anarchist:

"Skgorrian," grinned Frank, "you've got nerve. How does 'maybe' hit you as an answer?"

As she locked her beam-rifle into place on her armour's left leg, she gestured towards a set of lockers.

"There are suits in those. Pick one that fits. Until we come off Alert Red everyone's in suits - unlikely though it is that anything will hurt one of these puppies," she added, stamping the deck affectionately.

Skgorrian Frigate, Skgorrian Space:

Casualties had been horrific, but the Armsmen had prevailed in the end. Not one Kreigsmarine remained alive - but still their mission was incomplete.

The doors to the Kommandant's office were shorn from their supports by concentrated beam-weapon fire, and seven angry Armsmen stormed in, levelling their weapons at the figure behind the desk.

"Any fucking excuse and we'll fucking do you, you shit," screamed the first in, "you're coming with us dead or alive!"

Sensor Pit 3, the Bridge of ASD Inevitable Victory; Picket Nine:

"Comrade Flag-Elect," called the youthful sensor operator, "I have contacts five exiting hyperspace ... ahh ... 870 klicks away, co-ords 992-121-812. Contacts are closing slowly, and appear powered down to standard running. No! Wait! Detection - powering up guns, powering up shields!"
"Right, open a comm to them, and power up shields," snapped Harker, the picket commander, "I want to see their faces."

Even as he spoke, the ASD's comms-wall lit up. Static at first, then, as it auto-tuned, another vessel's bridge came into view. Harker remained coldly poker faced, as always...

Sensor Pit 3, the Bridge of ASD Inevitable Victory; Picket Nine:

"Comrade Flag-Elect," called the youthful sensor operator, "I have contacts five exiting hyperspace ... ahh ... 870 klicks away, co-ords 992-121-812. Contacts are closing slowly, and appear powered down to standard running. No! Wait! Detection - powering up guns, powering up shields!"
"Right, open a comm to them, and power up shields," snapped Harker, the picket commander, "I want to see their faces."

Even as he spoke, the ASD's comms-wall lit up. Static at first, then, as it auto-tuned, another vessel's bridge came into view. Harker remained coldly poker faced, as always...
OOC: What, exactly, is an ASD? I've looked for it on Google, Wiki, Wookiepedia, the Immaterium... and I get nothing. NOTHING!!!
IC:
Bridge of the Punter, Scout Wing 4
The command bridge was a flurry of activity. One bridge officer after another reported to Cmdr. Wade as she waited for contact with the alien vessel.

"Sir, wing is combat-ready and on standby, waiting for your orders," reported the main Wing Control officer.
Molly nodded. "Tell them to continue their standby."

"Sir, Diplomat mainframe is offline, we're on our own!" reported a computer specialist.
"Damn it. Get it working, yesterday!" shouted the commander.

The comms officer turned to her. "Sir, tight-band message sent to C&C. We're getting a transmission from the alien vessel. Also, sensors indicate that, although their shields are at full power, they have yet to charge their weapons."
Wade tensed at the prospect of negotiations. She had seen more battles in her life that most people heard about, but she was out of her water when it came to diplomacy. She swallowed. "Very well. Bleed the main weapons capacitors across the wing, but keep the back-ups ready. Then put the transmission on my screen."

The small moniter to her left flickered, let out a burst of static, then rendered the image of a stern-faced officer. Wade paused for a second to take in the details of his face, then said, "This is Molly Wade, Commander of Scout Wing 4, of the 3rd Irish Hive Fleet. Who are you?"

Bunker Room 1021-D9, the Interstellar Anarchist:

"As you request" Petersen winked as he put the vacsuit on. "No peeking now, mind." His comment was intended as cheek, given that the vacsuit slid over his uniform.

The two Kriegsmarine didn't bother to suit up - their armour was enough protection from hard vacuum.

Kommondant's Assault Frigate, Skgorria IV

The Kommondant's fire and bluster had died along with the last of the Kriegsmarine. Insulting the Atopians locked away on a planetside bunker was one thing, but facing them in person was one thing. He abandoned all thought of the blaster pistol in his desk drawer and meekly raised his hands in surrender, ready to give up.

Meanwhile around the ship a few badly wounded Kriegsmarine rolled and groaned - against all odds, they had survived. Numbering no more than a handful, they were scattered all over the ship but made no effort to fight the Atopians - they were beaten and knew it after their Commander had gone off the comms. Those capable of doing so raised limbs in a gesture of surrender

Skgorria IV

A message was broadcast on open frequency from planetside:
Attention Skgorrian and Atopian Forces, Kommondant Heydrich is declared an Enemy Of The State and is to be returned planetside immediatley for penal measures.

We also notice the presence of unidentified craft in our system - feel free to identify yourselves

Commodore Gorobets out

Skgorria IV

A message was broadcast on open frequency from planetside:
Attention Skgorrian and Atopian Forces, Kommondant Heydrich is declared an Enemy Of The State and is to be returned planetside immediatley for penal measures.

We also notice the presence of unidentified craft in our system - feel free to identify yourselves

Commodore Gorobets out

OOC: Is this directed towards me?

IC:
Main Fleet
Across the fleet, latent psykers began to report to infirmaries and sick bays, complaining of headaches and ocular hemmorhaging. The Fleet Commander was worried. Symptoms like this were usually the result of disturbances in the warp. This close to the Rim, that could mean pretty much anything.

And that included invasion...

OOC: An ASD is just an Imperial Star Destroyer - I swapped the 'Imperial' for 'Atopian', sorry for the confusion. :)

Bridge of ASD Inevitable Victory; Picket Nine:

"Pleased to make your aquaintance, Captain Wade. I am Flag-Commander-Elect Harker of the Atopian Grand Fleet's ninth picket force. I must warn you that you are entering Skgorrian space, and will have to deal with them seperately. Atopia wishes you no harm," he rattled this speech off with bored ease, shifting his weight slightly as he did so, "and remains on a defensive posture. We will not hesitate to return any aggressive action with overwhelming force. What are your intentions?"

ASD Nestor Mahkno:

As the last of the SAR shuttles returned to their hangar bays, concentrated weapons fire blew apart the shattered hull of the rebel frigate. Aboard the picket's flagship, senior officers were standing down following the bloodbath of the boarding action, and new elections were being held.

The Kommandant, restrained by several Armsmen, was loaded on board a standard Lambda-class shuttle. Escorted by two fighter wings, the small party made all speed for Skgorria-IV.

Bunker Room 1021-D9, the Interstellar Anarchist:

Just as Petersen had finished getting into his Vac-suit, the whining drone of the all-clear sounded. Emergency lighting was instantly replaced by the warm, white light of standard security level.

Frank laughed, sympathetically. "Always the way, isn't it?"

The room's blast doors began opening, and the Armsmen started to file out. It was time to return to the bridge and begin negotiations...

OOC: yup, seeing as though this is my system it would make sense if we actually talked :p

IC:

Bunker Room 1021-D9, the Interstellar Anarchist:

Groaning, Petersen fumbled the suit off without tripping somehow.
"Still, I guess it would have come in handy if this behemoth had suddenly fallen apart. Can't see much damaging it easily." Petersen was suprised at how easily he was able to dismiss his own armed forces' ability to damage the vessel.

Following Frank to the bridge, Petersen spoke again.
"I believe it is time to begin negotiations between Atopia and Skgorria, if you will allow me access to commskit I'll contact the Fleet for orders."

Skgorria IV

Ground-to-space and Ground-to-air weaponry tracked the Atopians as they descended, Air Traffic Control began requesting a flightplan and ID.

OOC: An ASD is just an Imperial Star Destroyer - I swapped the 'Imperial' for 'Atopian', sorry for the confusion. :)

Bridge of ASD Inevitable Victory; Picket Nine:

"Pleased to make your aquaintance, Captain Wade. I am Flag-Commander-Elect Harker of the Atopian Grand Fleet's ninth picket force. I must warn you that you are entering Skgorrian space, and will have to deal with them seperately. Atopia wishes you no harm," he rattled this speech off with bored ease, shifting his weight slightly as he did so, "and remains on a defensive posture. We will not hesitate to return any aggressive action with overwhelming force. What are your intentions?"


OOC: Ah. Kewl.
IC:
Main Bridge, Punter
"Our intentions are peaceful. We're simply trying to find a star system suitable for civilian settlements. Since this system already belongs to someone else, it is obviously not suitable." Wade sighed. "Out of curiosity, what are you doing here?"

One of the comms officers picked up the transmission from Skgorria. He sent a burst of text on a wide band. It repeated, "Scout Wing of 3rd Irish Hive Fleet, intentions are peaceful" over and over, for a full 30 seconds.

Bridge of the Interstellar Anarchist:

"Welcome back, Petersen," grinned Olkinoura, "we didn't have much trouble from your rebels. The Vote is over, and I can tell you that we're going to open diplomatic relations with you - 98% in favour. You'll be wanting communications - that wall over there. We'll link you to the Central Council and your HQ."

So saying, the communications wall sprang to life. It's split-screen format showed the bridge the Central Council aboard the Vanguard on the left, and the Skgorrian national flag on the right...

Sanatorium 72, ASD Durruti, Picket Seven:

The survivors of the ill-fated rebel flotilla's assault were spread throughout the Picket's sanatoriums. Many had horrific injuries, and all were being given the best of care. Specialised cloning equipment was being used to begin the replacement of missing limbs, while the worst cases were being crash-stabilised.

Lamda-class Shuttle 1210, Skgorria IV:

"This is Shuttle twelve ten to Skgorrian control, requesting permission to land and hand over your rebel leader," grinned the pilot, "and clearance for our fighters. Over."

Bridge of the ASD Inevitable Victory:

"Our apologies," grimaced Harker, "but it appears we're in the same boat. We're looking for somewhere to settle as well, and instead stumbled into our old neighbours. We're halted to resupply at the moment, then it's back onto the search, as far as I'm aware."

Bridge of the Interstellar Anarchist:

"Many thanks Miss Olkinoura, I regret every death caused on the part of the rebels - you have my condolences for every man and woman lost."
Turning to the communications panel, Petersen saw that it was similar to those on Skgorria vessels. I guess we both followed the STC pretty rigorously he thought.

The image of Commodore Gorobets sprang up.
"Petersen!" Gorobets exclaimed, "damn good to see you man! Good job on ensuring the Atopians didn't slaughter us all."
"Thankyou Commdore" replied Petersen with a smirk, "guess there is hope of peace between our two peoples."
The elderly Commodore sighed, "I darn well hope so boy, on that note they're handing over the Kommondant to us..."
"He was taken alive?" Petersen interrupted
"Apparently so, we've just cleared the Atopians to land and they've handed over the Kommondant. He's currently being interrogated as we speak. Anyway, what do you have to report?"
"Commodore Gorobets," began Petersen, "The Atopians have a strong wish to enter into diplomatic relations with us and negotiate on various terms. I don't know what exactly they want to talk about though, but I guess we can let the politicians sort that out."
"Quite right Captain" guffawed the Commodore, "except in this case the Leader has given you the right to pariticpate in the negotiations. We have 3 members of the Interior Ministry here ready to begin negotiation. I can put them on the line if our guests wish so."
"Please do sir" requested Peterson, "no point in delaying peacetalks several thousand years late."
With a final chuckle, the Commodore vanished and was replaced by 3 uniformed figures, 2 men and 1 woman. The room was poorly lit so their faces could not be seen.
"Our names are not important, but we have the authority to begin negotiations. What issues do you wish to discuss?"

Message Broadcasted At LNI Scouts

Understood, do you wish to send representatives planetside to establish formal relations?

Bridge of the ASD Inevitable Victory:

"Our apologies," grimaced Harker, "but it appears we're in the same boat. We're looking for somewhere to settle as well, and instead stumbled into our old neighbours. We're halted to resupply at the moment, then it's back onto the search, as far as I'm aware."
Wade nodded and gave a small grin. "We seem to have the same plan. You'd think we'd have found a home by now in a galaxy this big..." Molly broke off when a comms operator waved to get her attention. Molly gave the man an inquisitive look, and the operator put a short message up on one of her screens:

Understood, do you wish to send representatives planetside to establish formal relations?

Cmdr. Wade sighed and typed out a reply.
I'm afraid our stay will be too short for formal relations, but we'd be interested in negotiating for fuel and supplies.
She sent the message, and a bank of moniters nearby shorted out.
Especially replacement parts for MC80 Star Cruisers, if at all possible.

Central Council Chamber, the Vanguard:

Looking at the Councillors in turn, the Chair smiled to herself. Then, looking up at the Skgorrians on-screen, she opened the negotiations.

"What do we want to discuss? We want to discuss your unilateral surrender and the recreation of Brzno. We want a joint Atopio-Brznovian/Skgorrio-Brznovian military, and the integration of Atopians into Skgorrian cities. We want to use Skgorria III and VI as homeworlds, which Skgorrians will be free to live on. We want to utilise the asteroid belt to produce terraforming equipment for our use. We have further demands, but those we have presented are non-negotiable."

Bridge of the ASD Inevitable Victory:

"You're welcome to stay in-system to repair and requip if you like - I'm sure Central will happily allow the manufacture of spares for you, for example. One of our Super-heavy Factories should be able to produce enough..."

"We will not surrender" stated one of the figures, "such a term is politically unacceptable."

"But we will agree to a mutual cessation of hostilities" the woman suggested.
'The formation of Brzno and a joint military is acceptable."

"You may view this as word-picking, but the term 'surrender' is incompatible with our political doctrine." The third figure continued, "but we agree that Skgorria III and IV can be used by the Atopians. All mining operations will continue, and resources will be put into a communal resource pool under a new Brznovian government."

"We offer to upgrade the entirety of your starfighter corps to Defender models, our facilities on Skgorria III have the capacity to do this."

"I'm afraid you have no choice," smiled the chair, "either you unconditionally surrender, or we exterminate you. If you wish to sell this to your population as a 'long-term cessation of hostilities', I have faith in your propaganda machine. As for the Defenders, I can assure you that our super-heavy factory vehicles have already completed the first batch of 250 Defender-IIs to replace the Interceptors that performed so badly in the skirmish earlier."

IHF-3, Scout Wing 4
Wade thanked Harker. "Can you give us coordinates to rendevous for the spares? Is there anything we can get you in return?"

The comm specialists waited for a reply from the Skgorria (OOC: hint, hint)

Meanwhile, Scout Wing 3 entered the warp, heading for the same system as Scout Wing 4.

OOC: larger post coming... it may take some time to write, though...

3rd IHF, Hive Ship Seed II, Dormitory of Wade Family

Jackson Wade sat on the living room floor of the cramped, 3-room dormitory the Wade family resided in. His mother was in her bedroom, sleeping after a long shift in the munitions factory. Jack checked his watch and realised his shift would start in less than an hour. This was his first year working in the factory, since he had just turned 15, the minimum working age. In his lap sat his 3-year-old sister, Leah, and next to him was his other little sister, Kara (age 12).

They watched their news/entertainment terminal. The nightly news was on ("night" being a relative term), and a tired anchorman belted the latest news monotonously. "It seems that the 3rd Hydroponic Plant on Seed II has broken down again, food shortages are being reported on that vessel. Riots over poor pay for the repair crews on Propogator have broken out, the security forces on the ship have managed to pacify the ship, though tensions are still running high as pay is being negotiated. Psykers across the fleet, both civilian and military, are reporting illnesses of the like not seen since the Cataclysm. The cause for these illnesses is unknown, but Fleet Command has issued assurances that there is nothing to worry about, and that the matter is being looked into. In lighter news, settled planets discovered, along with another group of travellers just like the SRI fleets. Peaceful relations have been broached, and a fleetwide resupply may commence sooner than anticipated. Hopefully, this will reduce tensions and allay the shortages that have sprung up across the fleet since the last Warp."

Jack put his sister in Kara's lap, and walked to the bathroom to get ready for work. As he washed up, he reflected how lucky him and his family were. Since his big sister, Molly, and both of his brothers, James and Ian, were in the military, the family got private housing on one of the upper decks of the Hive ship. Most of the people on the vessel were stuck in barracks, with communal dining, showers, latrines, and terminals. Despite the poor conditions of that they lived in, their life was luxurious compared to many of the others on the vessel, including most of his friends and coworkers.

Jack slipped into his factory overall, and walked to his next 11-hour shift in the munitions factory.

Bridge of the ASD Inevitable Victory:

"Co-ordinates will be transmitted to you. If you could provide us with a list of components and designs for them as well, we'll have them waiting for you. You might be... pleasantly surprised by our factory ships." His mouth twitched, in a slight smile.

4th Scout Wing, Punter
"Well, we most desperately need MonCal parts for 25 MC80 Star Cruisers. Parts for Nebulon-Bs and CR90s would also be welcome. I'll send you a manifest of the things we need, as soon as I have clearance." After a short conversation with C&C, Wade sent a manifest to the Inevitable Victory.

After the message was sent, she bluntly asked Harker, "What is it you want in return?"

OOC: sorry LNI :(

IC:

The following transmission was sent to the LNI Scout Wing:

Current political situation here is confused, we are in the process of negotiations with the Atopians. We can provide you with some astronavigation data of the surrounding area, some food and fuel. In return we would like access to your navdata to learn more about the area.

Negotiations

"Very well Atopian...or should I say Atopian-Brznovian, we agree to a 'long-term cessation of hostilities'. As for the starfighters, so be it. It seems even your manufacturing capability is greater than ours." The Skgorrian sighed, they were truly outmatched in every way.

"What else do you want?"

Bridge of the ASD Inevitable Victory:

Spreading his arms wide - and grinning just as widely - Harker laughed.

"Nothing! We're anarchists - we're giving you all of this for free. Gratis. Nowt. Nada."

Central Council, aboard the Vanguard:

"We're glad that you see sense," smiled the Chair, "as for the other things - a military council to integrate our two armed forces. Six Atopian-Brznovians, four Skgorro-Brznovians. We propose furthermore a federal nation - Brznovia - which will comprise these four planets. We wish autonomy within each set of planets, so that you may continue to repress your people," a grimace, here, "and we may continue to be free."

The nameless figure shrowded in darkness and the green glow of the rooms instruments surveyed the screen. What he saw he took in mockingly, a cacophany of laughter, if it could be called that, echoing through the otherwise silent cavern of a bridge. "Two such fleets...two different sectors; both weak, both would make fine examples."

"What better way," the wraith said to itself, "Than to make this puny galaxy tremble than by two equal examples on this scale. Two decimations, two entire peoples to feed my scouting party. Inform the Warmaster that we have found a new target, and shall save enough to feed the horde..."

The dark spires floated gracefully through the void. The dark, empty sector they had arrived in after leaving the last planet they had claimed. Taledonians...yes, that was what the creatures had called themselves. Many star charts and technological information had been collected from the now ghostly planet, assimilated into the horde, and would aid them in their trek across the stars.

More amazing than the behemoth vessels themselves was the spectacular light show that occured as they entered hyperspace and exited the empty sector. Split in two, twenty-five Spires each, traveling towards the two crops.

Just outside Skgorria IV

A blinding flash erupted out of nowhere, revealing the dark basilisks, the citadels the likes the galaxy had never before seen. There they sat, engines powered down, the rings near the foundations of the spires spinning, like the rings of a planet. And then, ringing through the very fabric of space itself, defying the unbreakable laws of the galaxy, a message came in the stolen galactic basic, one of the most important gifts taken from the Taledonian planet.

We have come.

Near the LNI Hive Fleet

The starboard side of the Hive fleet suddenly became an area of fascination as the horde emerged. The awe-inspiring citadels seemingly blending and becoming one with the darkness of space, the soft green lights on the hull seemingly just more stars. The shadow, a massive figure, humanoid in shape but definitly not human, stared out the viewing windows at the fleet that seemingly awaited their destruction.

I am the Majordomo, second only to the Warmaster. Surrender your lives to the horde, and a quarter of your race shall be used as slaves.

Bridge of the Freedom:

"Bugger me..." whispered the sensor-tech, as he blanched at the readings on his screens. Without conscious thought, he punched the Fleet Alarm emergency panel.

Across the Grand Fleet and all its pickets, AIs evaluated the new sensor data. In under a second, every vessel was on full alert. The Grand Fleet began manouevring out of orbit, broadcasting alert messages to the Skgorrian and LNI craft as they did so.

Harker span round, the LNI ships forgotten, and closed communications.

Pickets began racing back towards the Grand Fleet. It was time to show the full might of the Atopian force...

Near the LNI Hive Fleet

The starboard side of the Hive fleet suddenly became an area of fascination as the horde emerged. The awe-inspiring citadels seemingly blending and becoming one with the darkness of space, the soft green lights on the hull seemingly just more stars. The shadow, a massive figure, humanoid in shape but definitly not human, stared out the viewing windows at the fleet that seemingly awaited their destruction.

3rd Hive Fleet, Main Cluster, Fiannas Dream
Fleet Cmdr. Connel immediately ordered the civilian fleet and their tenders to enter the Warp, before turning back to the message. His reply was short and to the point.

We don't deal in threats, and we will not surrender. Good day.

Connel cut of transmission, before turning to his XOs.
"Bring us up to red alert, prepare to enter Warp as soon as the civilian fleet has made it to safety. Move the combat fleet between them and the enemy vessels." He turned to his AWACs officers. "Do we have any information on these things?"

OOC: Of course, most of the civilian fleet won't make it to safety. Can I get any info on your citadels?

Just outside Skgorria IV

A blinding flash erupted out of nowhere, revealing the dark basilisks, the citadels the likes the galaxy had never before seen. There they sat, engines powered down, the rings near the foundations of the spires spinning, like the rings of a planet. And then, ringing through the very fabric of space itself, defying the unbreakable laws of the galaxy, a message came in the stolen galactic basic, one of the most important gifts taken from the Taledonian planet.

Bridge of the Freedom:

"Bugger me..." whispered the sensor-tech, as he blanched at the readings on his screens. Without conscious thought, he punched the Fleet Alarm emergency panel.

Across the Grand Fleet and all its pickets, AIs evaluated the new sensor data. In under a second, every vessel was on full alert. The Grand Fleet began manouevring out of orbit, broadcasting alert messages to the Skgorrian and LNI craft as they did so.

Harker span round, the LNI ships forgotten, and closed communications.

Pickets began racing back towards the Grand Fleet. It was time to show the full might of the Atopian force...

Bridge of the Punter
The whole bridge flinched at the blinding flash, and Wade, assuming it was a weapons discharge, ordered a red alert. She got the message from Harker, yelled that she saw them, and cut off transmissions. At the same time, Scout Wing 3 dropped out of the Warp.

Dammit, Wade thought, It'll be a full ten minutes before they can Warp again. She made a decision.

She sent a transmission on the Scout Wing 4 camnet (command network). "Shamrock, Messenger, follow the Atopianan picket! We'll be right behind you. Cutter, Amazonin, you're rear guard, we'll back you up."

She then opened communications with the lead ship of Scout Wing 3, the Lost Cause, captained by Cmdr. Starks. "Starks, follow us, we have an emergency situation, update your IFF with this info." She sent a packet to the 3rd Wing, marking the Atopianan and Skgorrian ships as friendly.

The 3rd Wing arrayed themselves, and caught up to the 4th Wing at maximum burn.

At the LNI Hive Fleet

The response was barely received by horde when thousands of ion cannons opened up, accompagnied by heavy energy blasts targeted at engines, shield generators and weapons systems. Most of the fire was being directed at the apparently civilian craft that was trying to exit. But the most terrifying of all, the rings around the citadels began to shift and break apart, becoming vessels of their own charging at the foe.

Skgorria IV

"Fools," spat the Zuun as the vessels that sat opposing his fleet moved to face them. They would be made an example of. Broadcast over the entire sector, the warry of the horde was heard. A deafening bellow, followed by a formidable counterdisplay of power as the space between the two sides was alight with weapons fire.

Skgorria IV, Space Forces Command Centre

Commdore Gorobets had personally flashed an alert to Skgorria Prime alerting the central government of the newcomers, both of the LNI and this unknown force. His small garrison had been depleted by the rebels, now he had this new horde to face. What did they mean by "we have come?" Darned arrogant fools, thinking they can pick a fight with Skgorria and Atopiana! thought the Commodore.

A junior officer turned and spoke "Atopian forces are engaging the hostiles!". Various tactical displays showed the two forces moving towards each other, with massive energy exchanges between them.

The Commodore leapt into action, "Full alert on all stations. Inform the Army of the current situation, prepare for civillian evacuation. All crews to ships and fighters, get on the comms to Atopiana and LNI and tell them we're moving in to support an attack." He then made a tactical decision that Skgorrian military historians would later view as a key moment in the Skgorrian Space Forces.
"Put our vessels under Atopian command, they have superior CnC facilities."

On the ground, miners and civillians panicked whilst the meager Army garrison attempted to maintain order and organise an evacuation. In orbit, the defending fleet shifted positions and began to form up behind the Atopians.

The Grand Fleet:

The shields of the Ultra-class Star Destroyers barely registered the enemy's weapons fire. Being better shielded than most planets, the worst effect of the alien bombardment on the five vessels was that those prone to epilepsy began shivering and convulsing.

Slowly, but inevitably, their huge 260km long and 100km thick bulks formed up and began returning fire as their smaller, escort Destroyers began harrassing the alien escorts. Superlasers - centrally mounted on each Ultra-class - blazed bolts of iridescent green towards the enemy craft.

Torpedo batteries pumped wave after wave of relativistic kinetic-kill weaponry into the void. Each 100m long rocket was tipped with a canister containing 10,000 aluminimum cones. On reaching 50% of the speed of light, the canisters scatter-shot the cones into the enemy's path. Each cone could punch straight through a shielded fighter without stopping.

Drone fighters weaved in and out of the fleets, accelerating and manouvering at 20Gs. Bombers blasted their plasma and nuclear weapons from thousands of kilometers away.

Specially modifed Star Destroyers began launching robotic ramships which would enter hyperspace and then exit it within the enemy ships.

The Skgorrian vessels, together with the returning picket ships, began engaging the alien fighters and light vessels.

Turbolasers and ion cannons of all sizes and classes blurted their deadly fire from hundreds of thousands of turrets and emplacements studded all over the Grand Fleet.

A Star Destroyer broke apart under the aliens' firepower. Another, dead in space, began trading fire with one of the ring-sections. Fighters and bombers exploded all around. Dagger-ship boarding vessels shot towards the alien ships.

Meanwhile, the World Devastators began advancing. Each one could kill a world - and there were fifty of them. All fifty tractor beams began locking on to one of the Citadels...

The Skgorrian garrison fleet was tiny, consisting of 2 ISDs, 6 Frigates and 25 Gunships. Although somewhat confused at being put under Atopian command, communications between the two groups was easy.

Well, as easy as things can be when a titanic alien horde is invading your home system and slaughtering hundreds of men a minute.

The captain of the garrison's flagship, the ISD Coup de Gras, flashed the following message to Skgorria Prime.

Enemy is being engaged, strength massive. Co-ordinating with Atopians, will fight to the bitter end. Sieg Heil!

Interstellar Anarchist

On board the Ultra-class, all hell had broken loose. Petersen was unsure what to do with himself, so he simply stood to attention and barked out in a loud, brisk voice.
"Captain Georg Petersen, Skogrrian Space Forces, reporting for duty under Atopian command!"

"Right," barked Frank to Petersen, "grab a suit, a beam-rifle, and follow us. We're going boarding, according to CentCom. Your Stormtroopers can come as well - we'll need every gun and knife we can get!"

Petersen paled "Boarding? That?" he gestured to a viewscreen showing the alien masses.
"It is our duty to serve" TK-421 intoned
"Our duty to defend" Tk-422 continued
"Our duty to kill" they both finished. Petersen shuddered, the indocrination of the Kriegsmarine made him scared even after several years of serving alongside them.
"We need our weapons" TK-421 demmanded, "unfamiliar with your weapons."
"High probability we will need out chainsabres" suggested TK-422.
Gulping, Petersen continued "I apologise for my reaction, it's just been years since boarding training. I will of course follow you to the death Miss Frank."

"Let's hope it's not to the death, hm," grinned Frank, as she replaced her helmet, "but your psycho-killers needn't worry. We'll be going by the bay with your shuttle and weapons anyway, so we can pick them up. Demi-Column - with me!"

Fifty Atopians and three Skgorrians began double-timing it towards the monorail which would take them to the waiting dagger-ship - and the aliens.

Arriving in the shuttle bay, the 3 Skgorrian stormed up the ramp of their shuttle and grabbed their weaponry from equipment lockers. The Kriegsmarine were happy to have their blaster carbines, pistols and various esoteric grenades, whilst Petersen took out his pistol and sighed. He'd need a bigger gun if he was going face to face with the alien horde. They then returned to Frank and her Demi-Column, to which Petersen spoke:
"I need to get a suit and a bigger gun, is there a cache here in the bay?"

"Of course," said Frank, "Pol! Help Petersen get a suit. Give him one of the AMI-19 beamers, will you? Oh, and the combat knife. Maybe some grenades... thermobaric, thermic, det-charge... the usual shit."

One of the Atopians helped Petersen into an armoured suit, which in his opinion was far better for protecting him from enemy fire than his dress uniform. It seemed sturdy enough, and now he felt confident enough to face the enemy. The Atopian handed him various grenades and showed him how to detonate them, as well as how to operate his new rifle. He saw both of the Kriegsmarine listening in, doubtlessly interested in their own strange way at the prospect of new ways of killing things.
"Well Miss Frank, looks like I'll have to postpone that offer of dinner." Petersen joked in an attempt to lighten the mood, "can I instead interest you in a selection of roasted alien scum?"

"Gladly, comrade," said Frank, as they ran towards the waiting Dagger-Ships, "nothing like the smell of victory..."

Main Hive Fleet
Despite himself, Connel gasped as the ion bolts rained on his fleet. The Warp preparations were completed as they struck. Nearly half of the civilian fleet was awash with energy as they tried to jump... including two of the Hive ships.

Propogator tore itself in half as it tried to jump. The rear half made it into the Warp, while the bow floated, dead in space. It rammed into a trio of disabled freighters, obliterating them. Secondary explosions ruptured the hull of the massive vessel. Meanwhile, Seed II was dead in space, lights flickering on and off. Most of the smaller civilian ships made it to warp, except for a dozen of the light transports and a single tankership.

"Dammit, return concentrated fire and protect Seed II! Give me damage reports!" shouted Connel.

"4 CR90s and a Nebulon B have been disabled completely, and the Redemption is reporting some engine trouble! It seems they focused on the civilian fleet, sir," reported a damage control officer.

"Those motherless bastards. Give them what's comin' to 'em."

The fleet fired a full broadside at the nearest pair of Citadels (and then at the vessels they were becoming). Turbolaser bolts and proton torpedoes streaked towards the Citadels, plasma bolts, laser pulses, and ferrous rounds hammered the enemy hulls, and the concentrated columns of incandescence known as lances streaked through the space between the two fleets in a matter of nanoseconds, almost eager to slice through the hull plates of the enemy.

Munitions Factory, Seed II
The work crews had sat down in preparation of the transition to Warp space. But, when the timer had counted to zero, the ship rumbled and shuddered in a way unlike any jump they had ever experienced.

Then, almost all the electrical equipment in the factory exploded, and the lights shuddered out. Jack Wade stumbled in the darkness for a few moments before he found a flashlight and turned it on. The work crew staggered around, looking for flashlights and answers.

"What the hell is going on?!"

Bridge of the Punter
The ship shuddered, and CMDR Wade cursed. A moniter nearby went static. "Anyone hurt? What's the wing status?"
"We're fine, no serious damage, but that salvo was close!"
"Divert more energy to rear shields, fire a torp salvo!"

The ships of both wings fired their torpedo tubes at the nearest citadel (40 torps in all), and kept up their retreat. "Dammit, we need to hurt them. We're going to try to board them! Get the First Guard Company ready!"

Belowdecks, two hundred soldiers scrambled about, loading up weapons and putting on flak armor. It took them five minutes to get to the landing bay.

*Here, now, food, food, send the spawners*
100 Black Horse corvettes flew forward and the spore pods were moved to the serface of the ship.
*More. Space. Food. Attack. Use the spawner weapons. Send our Eggs*
The clinging plant on the surface of the corvette pulled back from the front of the ship and the single ion cannon on the front of the ships began charging to full capacity.
*Attack.*

Below the sky platform lay a shaded area. Not much light touched this quiet zone. But in it rests a nation. A nation of isolationists who wished nothing more than to live undisturbed. In this nation were the drahks, far superior to humans in every way but apearing much the same on the outside. Attacking the drahks would be a huge mistake for anyone. But what if there was a masssive overwhelming invasion force that took over the sky platform above them?

The drahks soon learned the answer as an attack force came from above. It was the same army that took over and occupied A_B above them. But the drahks were not as easy to kill and had more skill and better senses. The battle lasted a good long while and the invading army had underestimated their ability to fight while overwhelmed. Rediculusly high numbers had stopped A_B, yet it had barely rattled the drahks. Soon the invading army got so desperate as to abandon it's occupation of A_B in the hopes of taking out the menace below. After 12 more hours the invading army had ceased to exist.

Anarchy_Balsac paged Project Alpha 1 below:

Anarchy_Balsac: "Are you guys okay?"

Project Alpha 1: "Of course, you designed us well after all."

Anarchy_Balsac: "Were there any living beings among the invaders?"

Project Alpha 1: "Very few, like only about 1000 of them. They seemed to only be around to moniter and make sure the robotic military we were being attacked with was working properly. Not sure how they did this as their technology differs from ours, but we'll figure it out."

Anarchy_Balsac: "Any idea how they made a controlled wormhole?"

Project Alpha 1: "They did what? Is that how they invaded you guys?"

Anarchy_Balsac: "Not sure, I do know it was used to remove Skuzzsock, our closest ally from our known plain of existence. My geuss is they can only open them in space, or they'd have done it to us as well."

Project Alpha 1: "I do know of some who have a similar technology, but more advanced as it can be opened in our atmosphere too. But they're a different species than these."

Anarchy_Balsac: "So who did this? We have to go after them."

Project Alpha 1: "No, you do, we only go after ones who seek indiscriminate slaughter, these fellows told us about the occupation above in your nation. That indicates they only want conquest. We do not go after those who seek conquest."

Anarchy_Balsac: "But you were attacked."

Project Alpha 1: "We were barely scratched. They won't be stupid enough to try that again. If they persist, they may change our minds. For now, we wish to stay neutral in this world."

Anarchy_Balsac: "I'm sorry to hear that, best of luck."

Project Alpha 1: "And to you as well."

The transmission then cut out. The nation of A_B would have to seek alliances elsewhere. The search began.

*space, for the eggs. Send the pods, primitive food as well, perfect. drahks. much energy indeed. food*
The 100 Black Horse corvettes turned broadside towards the giant platform and launched the pods in a burst of green gas. The pods, about 200 in all sped towards the platform readying for the chance to sprout

The smaller vessels that had broken off from the main citadels were close now, and giant blasts of energy had just struck their targets, making weak areas in the hulls of the disabled ships. With contact that shook the vessels they clung to, strange devices began cutting away at the rest of the hull, making it possible for breach. Finally, it was open on the vessel that the defenders were calling Seed II on their communications that they broadcasted to each other rather openly.

Darkness. Within the transport the warriors had just arrived in and within the empty corridor of the civilian starship. But darkness was a disadvantage to those that saw, but the horde...the horde was different. They moved quickly, as if the darkness themselves, wraiths moving to spread terror amongst the people. Movement...movement up ahead. They had all sensed it, felt the presence of those that moved with artificial lights to enable them to see and move about their ship.

So the warriors moved closer, quietly creeping, ghosts hidden from view in the darkness of the dead starship. They could take their pray quickly and efficiently, but if those things that called themselves humans decided to turn a light towards the party...well, then there might be a sound to warn the others...(OOC: Hint, hint, nudge, nudge.)

OOC: You never RPed damage on your vessels. You didn't even RP the lack of effect our weapons had on your vessels (although, if my weapons had no effect, then this galaxy has basically no hope...)

Bridge of Fiannas Dream
"Lances, fire on those small craft, dammit! Take 'em down!" Connel shouted.
A comm board crackled to life. It was connected to Seed II
"Sir, enemies are boarding the ship! It's dark in here... having trouble finding our way around. Oh, shi-" the communication cut off as the security officer screamed.
"Dammit!" Connel stood up. "Get the Terminators over there, NOW!"

A strike cruiser carrying the First Company of the 3rd Fleet's Marine Chapter quickly moved to dock with the Hive Ship.

Seed II, Corridor 2-29-34, Near the Munitions Factory
Jack's work crew (him and 19 others) moved quickly through the corridors, trying to find the nearest security node. He carried a fire axe, which he'd picked up when he heard gunfire a half hour ago and moved in front of the rest of the crew. Jack started to turn left, when one of the other guys assigned to point grabbed his sleeve and gestured the other way.

They entered the node, and found that no one was there. Or so they thought...

"What the hell is that?!" someone shouted, and lit up the dark figure with her flashlight. Other beams converged on it...

OOC: Space Marines?! Good lord! :p The Xenos haven't a hope... :D

The Grand Fleet:

By now, several Star Destroyers were drifting, overloaded by ion bombardment. At least twenty cruisers and frigates were on fire, and one had undergone a catastrophic drive collapse - the resulting implosion had sucked in ten fighters and a SAR shuttle.

The Interstellar Anarchist, along with the other Ultra-class vessels, continued their bombardment of one of the strange alien craft. Despite the vessels' black colouring, the advanced sensor suites on board the Atopian ships painted them with little problem.

All at once, the Grand Fleet's Ultra-classes seemed to flash yellow - then sensor operators across the system registered the new contacts.

Dagger-ships.

Tens of thousands of them, accelerating at 10Gs, honing in on the nearest alien vessel. These Armsmen, the best of the Fleet, wore the latest combat armour: intelligent nanonic quantum armour. Their beam-rifles could bore through ten metres of armour. Their training was the most rigorous possible.

And they were out for blood.

Frank mentally keyed the icon for Petersen's suit - under this level of acceleration, the only movement possible, even with the gel-cushion, was breathing - and thought-said, >How're you finding it?<

Skgorria IV, Ground

By now the last of the ground-based fighters had been launched up and sent to combat the alien invaders. The Army had at last restored order through a series of violent means and civillians were being loaded onto the few transports availible. The automated mining droids continued to load and mine, as in the panic no-one had thought to deactivate them.

Skgorria IV, Orbit

Petersen thought-typed to Frank, >Bit different from one of our Sigma-transports. Rather squishy too. You're rather hot< SHIT! Should've signed off before saying that! Petersen swore. Quickly he mentally keyed the icons of TK-421 and TK-422.
>Men, I need you to create a large distraction<
>What do you want sir?< Replied TK-422
>Anything, just do it now!<
>SIR< they both responded, then a message was broadcast to all of the ship's passengers.
>Death! Death! Death! Death! Death!< The Kriegsmarine mentally chanted over and over again

The Assault Flotilla, Dagger-Ship #18,212:

>The feeling's mutual, loverboy< replied Frank, grinning inside her helmet.

In response to the Kreigsmarine chant, several of the "Kill Squad" began their own morale-boosting mantra: >Long live death! Long live death!<

Soon, the entire vessel's complement of troops were thought-chanting. In response to the mood, internal suit-mounted earphones began playing various classic combat songs on loop, including Frank's personal favourite, Fucking Hostile by the ancient bardists, Pantera...

To see / To bleed / Cannot be taught / In turn / You're making us / Oooh Fucking hostile / We stand alone!

*space, for the eggs. Send the pods, primitive food as well, perfect. drahks. much energy indeed. food*
The 100 Black Horse corvettes turned broadside towards the giant platform and launched the pods in a burst of green gas. The pods, about 200 in all sped towards the platform readying for the chance to sprout

Said pods were subsequently shot down in minutes by the nation which had just faced a much more brutal and overwhelming threat.

Anarchy_Balsac: "What the fuck? Was that a joke?"

ISD Coup De Gras, Skgorria IV Orbit

The Captain stood in awe and watched bolt after bolt stream out towards the alien armada. The counter-fire was truly awe-inspiring, especially as he watched smaller craft attempt to weave and duck amongst it as they made strafing runs against the enemy hostiles. He stood on the elevated pathway that bisected the crew pit.
"All starfighters launched!" reported the starfighter co-ordinator from the crew pit.
"Excellent, seal and evacuate the hangar bay," he ordered, "are the Atopians assigning us targets?"
The starfighter co-ordinator checked his tacstream, then nodded. "I've been given targets for our starfighters, patching data through now sir."
"Status of our fleet?" The Captain asked
A watch officer turned and looked up at the captain.
"Our other star destroyer is reporting massive power failures all over the ship, 1 of our assault frigates and all of the Nebulons are disabled whilst only 2 of the gunships are disabled."
"Send the following message to all Skgorrian ships: 'prepare to recieve boarders.' If the enemy is disabling our vessels, he can only intend their capture"

All over the disabled vessels, Kriegsmarine and Naval Troopers began anti-boarding preperations. Crews aboard vessels without hope of repair began purging navdata and computer memory banks to prevent the enemy capturing data, whilst weapons were passed out in the event of an armed boarding.

Said pods were subsequently shot down in minutes by the nation which had just faced a much more brutal and overwhelming threat.

Anarchy_Balsac: "What the fuck? Was that a joke?"


OOC: you are not allowed to call other peoples losses.

OOC: you are not allowed to call other peoples losses.

ooc: I don't really mind, i didn't plan on landing there anyway. And I can just regenerate the pods. But I hope it doesn't happen again. No hard feelings A_B

IC: *Hmmm. Resistance. Typical. Regardless, easier targets. Conflict, perfect for food. Send pods. Primitive's ships. Delicious.*
One of the massive destroyers along with about 500 suicide fighters turned and began speeding towards the fighting armadas, the hundreds of pods along the ship began moving towards the surface, gases welling to launch the eggs into space.

Seed II

The figure stood, thrust from the shadows by the beams of light cast upon it's unholy shape. Shaped like a man, seven feet tall, medium build, and skin like ash. The face, much like any humans, but bald, and the sockets that should contain spheres were empty, giving off no clue as to how the creatures saw, empty eye sockets. Black plate armor, biological by the looks of it, taken from some unknown creature from where ever it was the aliens had come.

The lips moved into a sneer, the red holes in the ashen face clowding over. Around the group of insignificant lifeforms, many more were revealed from amongst the shadows, surrounding them, strange weapons in hand, menacingly prepared.

Skgorria IV

The battle citadels held, seemingly taking in all the return fire, yet suffering no damage whatsoever. The ruse had to end now, however, for the pathetic lifeforms who faught back against the will of the Warmaster had sent smaller craft that went in close, they would no doubt recognise the scanner anomolies at this time, and realise that the ships they saw were mere projections, made to look like they were the ones firing and engaging, whilst infact the actual battle spires sat far back, cloaked against space due to the dark hulls, long ranged weapons pounding the enemy vessels, making it seem as if it were the holograms.

The rings of these vessels began to shift and detach now, the smaller craft they became beginning their charge at their prey, weapons firing to remove the pitiful threat of the enemy fighters that would no doubt be stunned by the decoys and the revealed battle citadels much behind, completly unharmed by all the return fire as of yet.

OOC: you are not allowed to call other peoples losses.

OOC: Well in this case, a heavily armored sky platform that had just faced an android army of millions in an onslaught, being attacked by 200, I just didn't see any other possible result.

Skgorria IV

The battle citadels held, seemingly taking in all the return fire, yet suffering no damage whatsoever. The ruse had to end now, however, for the pathetic lifeforms who faught back against the will of the Warmaster had sent smaller craft that went in close, they would no doubt recognise the scanner anomolies at this time, and realise that the ships they saw were mere projections, made to look like they were the ones firing and engaging, whilst infact the actual battle spires sat far back, cloaked against space due to the dark hulls, long ranged weapons pounding the enemy vessels, making it seem as if it were the holograms.

The rings of these vessels began to shift and detach now, the smaller craft they became beginning their charge at their prey, weapons firing to remove the pitiful threat of the enemy fighters that would no doubt be stunned by the decoys and the revealed battle citadels much behind, completly unharmed by all the return fire as of yet.

OOC: HAHAHAHA!

You're taking the piss, right? So my sensor suites totally fail to detect the origins of the weapons fire. Not only that, but they don't detect the fact that - oh yeh - holograms have no density! Ooh, and what's that radar/LIDAR and EM-scan return over there...?

Of COURSE my highly-trained and experienced sensor techs, using info from drones scattered throughout the system failed to spot your vessels! It all makes so much sense!

Seriously, I don't care if I get my arse handed to me, at least have the decency to give me a vaguely fair fight. As it stands, your post is:

"LOL LOL LOL U R ALL TEH STOOPIDZ HURR HURR MY UBAR TECH HOLOGRAMZ AM FULE U ALL LOL NOW I PWN U I R WIN LOL"

IC:

"Oh look. It was a Cunning Trick (tm). Order all Superlaser batteries to fire on the revealed ships. Divert all attacks to the revealed vessels. Order the Dagger-fleet to change assault co-ords. Instruct the Skgorrians to hit them from below. Oh, and prepare the Ignore-Cannons..."

Skgorria IV, Space Forces Command Centre

Commodore Gorobets watched the tactical screen in the now-deserted command centre with all interest, it seemed that the enemy had used a rather crude sound and light show in an attempt to fool the Brznovian fleet. However now the fleets had shifted their targeting to attack the real enemy. So far the Skgorrian fleet was taking heavy losses, but that was to be expected as they were mostly light craft with the except of the two ISDs, of which only one was operational.

A small red light began to flash on the Commodore's console, and the following text appeared.
This is a Rheinland Directive

Supply Atopian-Sent Targeting Data To Channel 43-Q-SS

The Commodore blinked several times. A Rheinland Directive was a secretive codeword only issued to ranks above Captain, and was used to indicate something of utter priority that was to be done with all due haste. Quickly he maniuplated the controls and sent out the targeting date to the indicated frequency. The Commdore then called up the Atopian Command frequency and pulsed a short message.
Reinforcements Inbound

OOC: Well in this case, a heavily armored sky platform that had just faced an android army of millions in an onslaught, being attacked by 200, I just didn't see any other possible result.


LOL....well when you put it that way.

"Ah," intoned the dulcet voice of PD-101, the Grand Fleet's combat AI, "the Skgorrians play their hand. Excellent."

Even as the AI spoke, it was controlling the movements and firing of every major vessel in the Grand Fleet. Within an instant, the [OOC: totally rubbish] fake sensor returns had been replaced and millions of gigatonnes of ordnance retargeted.

The 50,000 dagger-ships continued on their way to the enemy ships, escorted all the way by hundreds of thousands of fighters.

OOC: my overall fleet is larger than in the OOC post now due to population growth. It's up to 10 Sovereigns and 526 ISD-IIs

IC: Hundreds of hands threw similar levers at the same time, and with that the Skgorrian reinforcements exited hyperspace below the Atopians. The Skgorrian Space Forces had committed all 10 of their Sovereign-class vessels and each one was escorted by 50 Star Destroyers and a mixed force of 30 Frigates and 20 Gunships. This represented the overwhelming bulk of Skgorrian firepower.

Upon their entrance to realspace, the Skgorrians raised shields and began to convert the targeting data being sent into co-ordinates and fire patterns. The fleet began to disgorge TIEs of various types who were kept in holding patterns until given targets.

Onboard the Skgorrian flagship, the Sovereign-class Destroyer Zionbane, Admiral Doenitz opened a channel to the Atopian commander.
"Atopians, this is Admiral Doenitz of the Skgorrian Space Forces here with the Skgorrian Space Forces. Might I suggest a timed superlaser barrage? Feed us targets and we'll open up." His suggestion brought a cheer from the bridge crew

"An excellent idea, Admiral," purred PD, "We concur. We also note that you should watch out for World Devastator super-heavy factories attacking from above the Galactic plane. They will hold the enemy's vessels in position with their tractor beams, while we 'pound the fuck' out of them with our concentrated weapons fire. We can produce 20 superlaser blasts every 10 minutes, or two every minute, at the following co-ordinates..."

The list of numbers spooled out into the ether in a micro-second burst of hard encryption, reaching Doenitz' ears just a second after he'd finished speaking.

"Weapons, do you have co-ordinates?" Doenitz asked, keeping the communication line open.
'Yes sir, co-ordinates being fed to the Fleet now" confirmed the weapons supervisor. Doenitz turned back to the viewscreen,
"Let's give these alien scum a shot to remember - all superlasers, full power in one massive barrage!" his eyes glistened in bloodlust, "I'll order my ships to charge and fire in 30 seconds time after the end of this message. Doenitz out." He cut the frequency, then ordered the communications man to open another one to the Sovereigns.
"Fire superlasers at pre-sent co-ordinates in 28 seconds time, follow audible countdown. 26, 25, 24.."
Aboard the ships Zionbane, Black Standard, Landstorm Skgorria, Aryan Pride, Righteous Fury, Grand Skgorria, Mailed Fist, Auschwitz, Valhalla and Mailed Fist officers panicked to meet the deadline.
"19, 18, 17"
The Captains of each vessel ordered "Commence Primary Ignition" and priming chambers sprung to life, the decks of each vessels rumbled and all weapons fire stopped.
"10, 9, 8"
Ships scurried out of the way, fighters and destroyers alike. Luckily little movement had to be done as the Skgorrians had 'spaced in with the intention to fire their superlasers so the ships had a clear firing arc.
"3, 2, 1. Fire" Doenitz finished the countdown and 10 green beams of light, each capable of destroying a planet, shot out towards the alien fleet...

As the Skgorrian fleet blazed away with its superlasers, so too did the Grand Fleet. Each Ultra-class opened up with both their port and starboard superlasers - although this did divert power away from every other weapon on the vessel.

In total, 20 superlaser beams were punched through the darkness of space towards the enemy fleet. All the while, the World Devastators' tractor beams locked onto the alien vessels in an attempt to fix them in position.

Several hundred smaller vessels in the Grand Fleet were vapourised by the superlaser beams, but they didn't hinder the planet-killing weapons' progress...

Anarchy_Balsac: "Hmm, some idiot keeps launching small swarms of pods at my platform. Not that this is any trouble for my troops. They are infamous throughout neighboring regions for shooting down commercial airliners, as well as our own birds and children's kites. I have to wonder if this is a diversion of some sort, or just a weak ally of the main antagonist. In any case with skuzzsock being seemingly, uh, not around I will need to increase orbital weapons production.

It's a good thing machines do all the work in my nation. They will not only help in the production of this weapons through their efficiency, but they allowed me to abolish currency making this cost me nothing. My first order of buisness will be finding that damned idiot and eliminating his ass. But who launched the android army my way? I must find and destroy them, that is my true purpose in this war."