NationStates Jolt Archive

The Seed of War and Peace

Closed RP
OOC Thread -> Click Here (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=513878)

(Old) Haven

The planet was being abandoned, as nuclear winter was sitting in and people were dieing by the thousands. Terrorism had struck an ultimate high, as the terrorist groups released several million gallons of deadly gas, and set off thousands of atomic bombs. The world had become a huge mess, as people tried to flee, the government and navy attempt to organize a retreat. Civilians by the billions loaded up on every and any type of spacecraft, some were put in to ship with no reactors and pulled by a larger ship, and some even were stuffed on naval craft, including the carriers. But there were simply not enough ships to hold and transport all the people. Some were left behind, in some of the remaining space stations. Left with lots of food and supplies, in hope that they would one day soon be picked up and brought to the new world. But no one knew where this new world was. Not even a general direction to head. So it was just picked and they headed off. The navy tried to fight off the pirates and other enemy ships that tried to shoot down the transports, but by the second, food and supplies on the ships were running low, as well as moral. Several hundred ships had to drop from the convoy that was traveling at light speed, left to the mercy of what ever was waiting for them. Sometimes, if the navy had ships to spare, they were dispatched to assist in fixing the ships, but sometimes it was hopeless and they tried to cram more people onto the already stuffed navy ships. Some ships couldn’t handle the amount of people using the life support system and it just failed, becoming a large coffin, the people slowing dieing from lack of oxygen.

By the third week, a scout reported a world that resembled Haven. The rag tag convoy made break neck speed for this new planet. When the planet was deemed suitable, the ships landed and the people offloaded, ready to start a new life on a new planet. The fastest ships were sent back to fetch the people left behind, but to their sickness all that was found was burnt and charred space stations. They had been attacked by only god knows what and every last one slaughtered. They weren’t left defenseless, as several regiments of marines were left behind, but whatever the enemy was; it was far too strong or large for the marines. They did run into some tribes, which were soon introduced to the new technology brought by the new people. The Prime Minister named the new planet New Haven. After three years, basic infrastructure was built. And a new planet, the next one in the system was also deemed livable, but became the HQ for the navy, and named Titan after the large beasts from Greek history.


New Haven (http://i72.photobucket.com/albums/i189/seanmyhre/home-1.jpg) (click for pic)

It took many decades to get where they were today. It was better then Old Haven. There was no pollution, new buildings and new system of operating was established. There were no people left from the great journey, only their great great grand children. The fleet had grown and new achievements reached. The new Prime Minister thought it was time to expand and reach out to other planets to expand the Delesian influence. And soon enough, the orders were finished and the conquest in the name of New Haven begun.

The new fleet of the Commonwealth approached the first planet in the system. And with in a day, it was now a colony of Haven; Sarannia. There were no civilizations on the planet so there was no fighting from wild beasts in some of the areas cleared for construction. Freighters and transports started to fly to the new colony on the second day. It was great progress.

"Quite a system," The Trierarch said as the fleet reentered normal space after the tesseract jump. He stood on the bridge of the NAR Acheron, fists resting on the master console, looking thoughtfully at the massive holoscreen above the console. A myriad of planets, moons and small celestial objects floated across a backdrop of a swirling nebula. "There really is a lot of territory here." Coming from anyone else, it would have been the understatement of the century. Marcus Exitifer, knowing his commanding officer well enough, merely nodded. "Indeed, domine." He looked up at the holoscreen from where he stood leaning against the edge of the console, reviewing lists of his Marine centuries, their statuses, and inventories of weapons and equipment. As Senior Legate and commanding officer of the three ground legions attached to Scout Battlegroup Hellhound, it was paramount that he keep his troops' affairs in order. "Release Lumena throughout the system and dispatch messenger drones back to Homeworld with a habitable system confirmation?"

The Trierarch nodded. "Split the fleet into pentads, I want as wide and thorough a spread of Lumena as possible. Tell the Praetorium we recommend that this system be marked for colonization. In the meantime, we'll survey these worlds as much as we can."

The Battlegroup split into five groups. NAR Acheron, Styx, Phlegethon, Lethe, and Cocytus, the five Vulcan-class battleships that formed the core of the fleet, each led a contingent of smaller cruisers and gunships in a fanning pattern, periodically firing Lumen drones toward planetary subsystems as they advanced.

Gamma-8-Alpha knelt before the ship's control altar as the neon green wireframe of an enormous female head materialised before him.

"O great Emerald One, we have discovered a fledgling world ripe for cleansing."

"Very good, Gamma-8-Alpha. Form a fleet of the faithful and wash away the taint. Should you succeed, you shall be rewarded immensely."

"I hear and obey, great Emerald One."

The figure winked out as the projecter turned itself off.

Gamma-8-Alpha stood and walked to the other side of the altar. He pressed a button on the surface and spoke into the hidden microphone.

"Epsilon-17-Beta, Epsilon-26-Beta, Epsilon-2-Beta"

Three green-hooded figures appeared before him.

"The Emerald One has blessed us with a new task. Assemble your shields, we leave in three days."

"We hear and obey."

---
"Reports have come in of Emerald Cult activity - they appear to be preparing for something big." reported a communications officer, clutching tightly a printout which had just come through the communications room. Winslow intercepted it, carefully plucking it from the man's hand. "Hrm... The cult's moving on this dinky little star far out in the galaxy. Fast-probes say there was another fleet which hit the target area a few weeks ago." Parrian took the map from his good friend. "What the devil? There's two fleets heading there! I do say, whoever arrived there first is in for one nasty shock. Send a score of spatial probes to make a preliminary sweep, and set a course for the target site. Whoever it is, with the Cult involved they're going to need some help."

The chitinous spore neared the planet of Sarannia. It had drifted a long ways from the Charybdis Cluster and had traveled for many a light-year, searching for a planet for food. Searching for the next homeworld to ravage beyond all the dark and hellish nightmares the universe has to offer.

It had entered the atmosphere, an object the size of a van. Fire erupted from the front as it pierced the mesosphere of the beautiful planet. From the vacuoles of the spore shot compressed air, slowing down the spore to soften the landing.

It crashed on the plains of Sarannia, away from signs of civilization. Only minutes after impact did the spore activate, first implanting its deadly roots into the ground. As they extended into an elaborate bio-latticework, organisms began crawling through the narrow roots and into the nutrient-filled soil. These were the Larvaetons, the basic forms of life of the Kraeton Gestalt. They would begin devouring the topsoil and any biomaterial that crossed their path and soon they would either transform into their second stage of evolution or become the Cacuscudo Gestation Sacs.

They spread through the ground, looking for wildlife to prey on...

OOC: What kind of wildlife do you have?

And...THIS IS MY 1000th POST!!!!

In stark contrast to the alien spore that had come down upon the unknown world was the ungainly mass and bulk of a distant ship. It wasn't a warship, and in fact if someone had compared it to being a military vessel they would have been solidly roundhoused by one of its crew. They were miners born and bred, and to them the military was something to be looked down on and disdained. After all, it was up to them and their brethren to provide the bulk of the ores that kept the men and women in uniform working on their machines.

Such an attitude was to be found aboard the mining vessel Xichun, five weeks out of Douglas Station in the Tau-14 system. Twice the length of a Unity-class battlecruiser with nearly a third more mass, mining barges like the Xichun were a newfangled invention among the mining community. They had very few weapons, relying more on fighters for protection against the few pirates that were this far out from the cluster of stars that called itself Her Majesty's Commonwealth Government of Bautizar. But right now they weren't worried about the necessity of protection.

"I tell ya skip, this is the largest vein I've seen on the job" the foreman yelled up to the railing over his head. Behind him the upper vast bulk and scarred surface of an asteroid could be seen out through the forcefield. Flashing navigational lights from the automated mining drones could be seen moving along the surface, along with the fading lights of their mining lasers. Occasionally a larger flash announced the heavy tractor lasers in operation, gutting this particular hunk of rock through the shafts that were being cut into it.

"How big?" the captain called back, a hand readjusting his hardhat. Below him the foreman glanced out at the asteroid, then back to his boss.

"Six, maybe seven hundred tons. Douglas is going to be happy with this one."

"Sensors showed another couple of rocks like this one farther into the field. Keep those drones running" the response said. The man below gave a prompt thumbs-up through his heavy glove before turning back to the miners that were scurrying all over the open deck. Even as the captain looked on another pair of the automated behemoths that called themselves drones slammed in through the forcefield, jerking to a halt and hovering over the lower deck as their full hoppers rotated into position to dump. A series of hatches jerked open below, exposing the fires of the onboard refineries and heating the air.

Farther into the field were two more mining barges of the Guild of Miners, engaged in similar mining operations. An automated survey drone had found this asteroid belt nearly two weeks before, and it had prompted much activity back at the station. Now all three ships were safe under the guns of a retired frigate, its battered and scorched hull showing a lifetime of service on behalf of the crown.

Sarannia, Planet Surface

Several Regiments were based in the new city of New Sarannia. Basic duties were to do regular patrols of the area. As there was no resistance in the initial landing. And due to the quick set up of a perimeter, civilian freighters had already begun to land and drop off supplies for the city construction. The regiment’s scouts were accompanied by naval scientists, to find and or discover new minerals and resources. On some of the patrols, they required airlift to get fair distances not already covered the days before.

A Pelican Transport (http://kraytdragonsrpg.tripod.com/sitebuildercontent/sitebuilderpictures/spacetransport.jpg) raced over the fairly flat surface. On board was a squad of the 104th Calvary Regiment, and three scientists. Staff Sergeant Mike Yowls was cleaning his pistol, when the pilot came on over the helmet comm., "Sergeant, the LZ is a minute away. Prepare for a hot drop." A hot drop meant that the pelican wouldn't be staying around, and the soldiers had to get off quick. It's not like they were going to land into an army of alien life forms and the pelican needed to get away quickly, but orders were orders. He placed his pistol in his leg holster and grabbed his rifle that as hanging over his head. He cocked the gun then turned on the squad comm.

"Alright men, one minute and we have a hot drop. Make sure those... scientists are ready." The squad nodded their heads in unison and started to help the scientists get on some safety gear on. The pelican then started to descend towards the surface. Mike stood up and walked up to the cockpit, his hands on the rails on the ceiling of the craft. Out the window he could see a clearing in a forest. "That’s the LZ?"

"Yes Sergeant, it is. And it’s were we are going to pick you up as well."

"Alright, I'll see you at 18:00." He patted the pilot’s shoulder and walked back into the cargo bay. All his men were standing facing the rear doors. The scientists with faces that showed this were their first hot drop. There was a lot of notice as the engines tried to slow down in time, and shuttle shaking uncontrollable. Then the ground of the pelican started to even out, the doors dropped and the men rushed out, pulling the scientists with them, landing on the ground 7 meters down with a large thump. Their rifles raised scanning the tree line for any signs of movement. The pelican soared off back in the direction it came. Leaving the squad alone far from any other unit or support. But that was normal, they fought for the Commonwealth, they were taught to fight and survive by themselves. The squad then proceeded to one side of the clearing.

"Alright, this is our fall back point. I presume the scientists what to stick together?" The scientists nodded their green faces. "Alright, I want four of you to go with them, the rest of you with me, let's check out the area. There was sudden movement as four of his eight men picked up the science tools and equipment and lead the scientists into the forest, the other four assembled in front of their squad leader. "Man do I hate babysitting duty."

"Well there isn't much else to do on this empty planet." one of his privates retorted.

"Then let's hope all the planets aren’t this easy. Let's go." He started to head in the opposite way of the scientists group. Two hours later, the Sergeant had his team sit down and take a break. They took off their helmets and drank from their canteens, and ate some of their rations. Then the corporal from the other group contacted the sarge.

“Sarge, you might want to see this.”

“What a new rock?”

“No sir, it’s a…. umm… a space shuttle by the looks of it, and its attached to the ground.”

“It isn’t ours?”

“No sir, no markings of the commonwealth origin.”

“Alright, we’ll come to your position on the GPS squad locator.”

“Roger that.”

The sergeant placed his canteen back in his pack and stood up. “Alright men, we have to go meet up with the rest of the squad.” The rest of the men stood up and put back their canteens and rations. They picked up their weapons and fell in line and started to walk to the position on the HUD map, marking the location of the rest of the squad.


ooc: this post seems crapy to me... not sure about you, but im not done, and i'll post a responce to Bautizar.

" What is the sense of right and wrong, is it the fact that we bare no ally yet help those we know will help us. Or the fact that we aid those who conqure others. Are we just here in this universe to seek and destroy or do we hold top a higher order.." These where the words of the one who sought the power of the evil of the biomech. His name was Keller Karrner a former pilot of the Hobbeebian Imperial biomech force. But the restriction of the biomech force left him empty, he alway wanted more power. Eventually his greed and black heart curropted his biomech and the transformation was complete. That day he took the lives of 3 million peoples live by destroying the planet of Tel' Aruhn in the outer rims of the Imperiums borders.


But that time of his life had long past and his newest mission was soon approaching. Signs of a flourishing civilization had caught the eye of the most arcane one. As the Fleet traveled through out the Omniverse the nearest planet of the civilization was close and time for battle would soon be upon the fleet.

" Sir, the planet is close. I suggest we drop from the Omniverse and make our approach" called the helms officer as he looked over his holo-console readings.

" Very well, order all ship top drop, and converge on the planet. DO NOT fire unless ordered!" said the dark commander Keller.

The Helms officer nodded and gave the order to the entire fleet. As the fleet got closer they fell out of the Omniverse and ripped a whole in the space around the planet into a shattered mess. It would have shook the planet before mending itself. The dark Biomech mence like to make itself known.

Marcus Exitifer stood on the bridge of the Phlegethon, watching readings from the Lumena pour in on the holoscreen. There were several dozen individual planets, many with multiple moons, all devoid of signs of civilization and rich in ores, minerals, and natural resources. It was, quite frankly, a proverbial gold mine.

"Priority transmission from NAR Saevitia, domine," one of the commtechs said, routing the transmission to the holoscreen. The face of Navarch Quintus Llewellianus, captain of the Pallas-class stealth cruiser Saevitia, which was ranging a thousand klicks ahead of the main fleet with her sister ship Carnifex, appeared on the holo. "We've isolated propulsion signatures from several separate groups of spacecraft already in the system, domine." A deep scan reading appeared beside the Navarch's face, with blips showing the surrounding planets in blue, the Neo-Roman fleet in green, and clusters of red unidentified readings. The first was quite large, blips swarming around a large planet about a hundred thousand klicks out. The second held only a few, scattered amongst the asteroid belt on the fringes of the system.

"Have they given any indication that they are aware of our presence?" Marcus said, studying the Saevitia's scan reading. The Navarch shook his head once crisply. "Not as far as we can tell. Saevitia and Carnifex are running full dark, all stealth systems online, so the chance of them detecting us are slim. And unless they have sensors with a much farther range than us, they will not have spotted the main fleet yet. They've only just appeared on our scanners in the last ten minutes."

"Benefactum, Navarche. Proceed ahead and investigate the signatures in the asteroid belt at short range. Relay visuals to Phlegethon when you are within range."

Lllewellianus nodded once. "Understood, domine." The transmission winked out on the holo, leaving the scanner reading. Marcus studied it for a few minutes more, then keyed a button on the master console with a black-gloved finger. "Fire control, prepare to launch stealthed probes to sent coordinates..." He cut off as the deep scan suddenly exploded in a riot of colors near the planet. Graphs and charts of spiking energy readings appeared on the holoscreen. "Di magni...Fire Control, double that order of probes." He tapped a series of keys that relayed the coordinates to the targeting AIs, then leaned closer to the holoscreen and the cresting wave of chaotic energies, rubbing his chin with a black-gloved hand. What the hell...? "Get me Acheron onscreen immediately."

As they rips in the very fabric of the universe had finally healed, the fleet assembled around the planet. The very reason why they had even came to this system. Millions of soldiers and ships could be made from this single planet.

" Sir with our entrance I am sure many people have seen us coming in. Prehaps we should make contact with the one we are to meet." asked the first officer

" Yes... I want the shield ships to cover the fleet. I want all systems to overload status. if anyone fires I want the ships to be ready" order Keller

The Helms officer nodded and issued the order. The shield ships made their way to the back of the fleet and activated their shield. Sheilds so strong they could be seen with the naked eye. Sniper ships and missile ships took all around the fllet to give full fire range. The command ship and several orbital drop pod ships got close to the planet and releashed 300 drop pods and 10 Rage class gunships in which to meet these " Allies ".

"What do you meant, numerous contacts?" the voice of the captain growled at the man through his headset. The sensor operator nervously thought for a moment, looking at his screen and the numerous dots of long-range contacts that were appearing on it. Nobody had told the Guild that the Home Fleet would be out here; the logic of sending the formation meant for the defense of the home territories out this far defied logic. Which meant …

"At least twenty sensor contacts, long-range. Lots of electronic chatter and activity going on too."

There was silence from the other end of the connection, and for a moment the operator feared that the connection to the aft mining bays had been lost. The captain had been engaged on one of his periodic walkthroughs to check for obvious safety hazards when an urgent 1-MC broadcast had come over the speakers.

Out ahead of the Xichun a pair of drones floated out of the spacious aft hangar of the mining escort frigate, small meter-long unmanned craft that were immensely curious things. Their programming was exactly what was desired at this point in time, and as the vessel came about to storm down the length of the mining barge the drones accelerated rapidly towards the far-away star. Behind them came a squadron of fighters, swarming away from the frigate’s port and starboard landing pods yet maintaining a healthy distance from the mining barges and their drones.

"Sir, signal from the Cokehold," communications reported, tapping a connection on his panel to cut in on the conversation between sensors and the captain. "They also confirm the contacts in the inner system. All barges have been put on alert for possible emergency jump."

Three Hours After Impact

A wolf walked nearby the impact crater. It sniffed around, wondering what sort of rock this was. The pack was nearby, scoping the area for rival packs. This was to be their territory once they were sure of its safety.

The alpha male heard a rustling in the bushes. He turned towards the thicket and sniffed the area. Out from the bush slithered a small yellow slug about 3 inches long. The alpha male sniffed it then ate the creature. It was disgusting. The wolf coughed it back up and swiped it into the bushes again.


Later when the dusk was setting in, the wolves were asleep, with one staying guard. Unfortunately, she didn't see the small group of these slugs writhling towards her pack. One slug crawled near the ear of the alpha male, slipping into his ear. Inside the cerebrum, it began its biological work, the Kraeton cells expanding and interweaving into the neurons of the wolf. The neurotransmitters were on fire as the wolf tried to fight back, to no avail. The others were taken too. The female on guard backed away from the Larvaetons, now greater in number. She tried growling and clawing them but it was no use. The tidal wave of Larvaetons overwhelmed her, suffocating her under their weight and invading the inner sanctum of her mind.

The other Larvaetons delved into the ground while the pack stood up. Countless feral sensations flooded into the minds of the Larvaetons. Smells, tastes, emotions, information. Everything they needed from a top predator in these plains.

A smell filled the air. This was familar to the wolf. It was a fleshy smell. An image of a bipedal creature entered the mind. Sentient life...

The alpha male motioned for the others to follow, watching their new enemies near the crash site.


Beneath the ground, the other Larvaetons had found an underground cavern deep within the earth. Their many had begun clumping together into a large mass of Kraeton biomass, already the size of a couch. It's veins were pumping nutrients from the soil around it and tentacles were writhling around it.

This was the birth of a Cacuscudo Gestation Sac, the first in a four stage evolution of the Kraetonous Organitechture.

Admiral Black yawned as he strolled casually onto the bridge of the Avenger.

"What time is it?" he asked as he began to rub the sleep from his eyes.

"0125 hours, sir," replied the tactical officer, "you're up early."

"Figured as much," replied Black through another yawn, "Hows the rest of the fleet doing?"

"The Raptors all report fully functional and that they are ready to power up the new disruptors when we reach the test system," answered the tactical officer.

Black glanced over at the first officer's station, located where the science station on the explorer varient of the Novus Exemplar class would be, and noted that the chair sat empty.

"I see the Commander still hasn't gotten up yet."

"No, she hasn't," came the response, "well, at the very least, she's not reported for duty yet, sir."

"Just like one of those damn aristrocratic Methuselah to think she's better than the rest of us and doesn't have to report to duty," growled Black.

"Actually, sir," came the smug voice of the Commander in question, "I was fully planning on reporting on time....in a few hours when the morning shift started. Don't tell me you've forgotten that its rather early."

"Don't start with me right now, Sarah," snorted Black, "I'm not in the mood for our usual banter."

"Very well," sighed Commander Sarah as she took her seat at her console.

"Well, what's our status?" inquired Black.

"All boards read green, old friend," she replied with a wry smile.

"I told you not to start with me this early," groaned Black, "I've not even had my coffee yet."

Sarah just turned back to her console and chuckled lightly to herself.

After being en route for a month and a half to an out of the way star system to ensure the security and secrecy of the tests of these new weapons, the small fleet would arrive later that day. Around noon, ship-time, in fact.

OOC: Well, what do you all think? Did I give the characters enough depth?

Sarannia, Orbit

"Sir, picking up contacts! They are everywhere!" Admiral Eoin Spear walked over to the sonar station. He was in command of the United Commonwealth Fleet Charlie, the naval force at the new planet. His flag ship the UCS. Victory was one of the five carriers that the Commonwealth have in service at this time.

"What is it?" Asked Spear.

"Sir we are picking up multiple contacts. He have a large group that just ripped a hole in space here," pointing to a collection of red hologram of ships on a map table, "We also have some mining vessels, they have been there for a while, and are just mining, they seem only to have one naval ship with real firepower, but when we sent a probe to investigate, she’s pretty old, or had seen her share of battles. But those first ships are sending down a force to the planets surface." The Admiral watched as the little holograms of hundreds of little pods and larger vessels. The facial expression did not change. He didn't even flinch.

"Raise the Army HQ on SATCOM, tell them what we are seeing. They are not to open fire, unless these... visitors provoke an engagement. Also get on FLEETCOM and request we get another fleet over here pronto. Scramble the fighters. (http://www.zaon.org/attachment.php?attachmentid=1332&d=1161717413) Also standby to enable the Red Protocol." The face on the operator went white. The Red Protocol was only supposed to be used when the C.O. thought the battle would result in the Commonwealth ships being captured. In that case, when the Red Protocol was put in action, the ship would not respond to controls, and eventually self-destruct, but before that, the blaster and emergency doors would lock shut, trapping the enemy in the ship. Also the ship's A.I. would we destroyed, unless it could be transported out of the ship and back safely into UCN (United Commonwealth Navy/Naval) hands. But the order was just stand-by. Just a safety precaution. The operator typed at the holographic controls, issuing orders to scramble the fighters. Meanwhile the ship A.I. brought the shields up. There was no MAC gun on the carrier, but there were Archer Missile Pods. They too were armed. Hundreds of the Viper Class Fighters zipped out of the bay doors on either side of the ship. The UCN ships around the carrier brought their MAC guns online and raised their shields. They also moved in position to protect the carrier. “Your move.” The Admiral talking to the large bio-fleet looking down at the ships on the hologram battlefield interface table.


Sarannia, Planet Surface

There was a flurry of movement, soldiers ran from building to building. The large anti-air rockets were manned and aimed at the incoming ships. Heavy machine guns pointed in the direction of the 'visitors'. Tanks rolled up to barracks, and the fighters took to the air, circling the new city.

A fleet of brilliant metallic green ships exploded into the outskirts of the system with a wash of radio static, which quickly gave way to a plethora of radio chatter as the ship-templars attempted to coordinate themselves. As the general flurry of noise died down, it became clear that the larger ships that had just arrived comprised of three carriers, their bellies laden with fighters.

In all, there were maybe six hundred fighters docked in the ships, and almost none of them would survive the coming battle - indeed, they were not designed to at all.

With a roar (if one could hear it in space), the three ships moved in slowly to the battlefield, their docking hatches opening in anticipation of the inevitable disgorging of the fighters.

Sarannia, Orbit

"Admiral! We are picking up three more contacts on the long range. They are huge, appear to be carriers." The Sonar Officer said as he pointed to the edge of the holographic table.

"Just three carriers?"

"Yes sir."

"What are they playing at? Are they related to the mass of biomech ships?"

"Not by structure. They are not biomech."

"Good god, has the situation with the biomech vessels changed?"

"Negative sir, they are staying were they are. A sort of defensive formation."

"Alright, target the new carriers. If they so much as send out a pod I want the fighters on it like white on rice."

"Yes sir."

"Any word from Fleet?" asking the Comm. Officer.

"Yes sir, UCN Fleet 003 is enroute. Under the command of Admiral Micheal Field. They are a smaller in numbers, but are more modern ships. They have a Defiant Class Carrier. Flag Ship is the UCN. Defiant. They will be here in 15 minutes."

"Order the destroyers to target the new targets. The rest remain on the first contacts. But if one of the contacts move too aggresive, all ships concentrate fire on that group."

"Message out."

"What about the ground forces?"

"Defensive positions have been ordered, the city of New Sarannia is locked down."

"Alright. Prepare for close-combat and anti-air. Bring the close range turrets online. Seal off all non-essential areas."

"Yes sir."

Bodies moved on the command deck of the Cokehold, her single squadron of fighters holding position and formation off the aft end of the Xichun. The unusual frigate with her stubby civilian-grade CMC guns and few Rapier missile pods was a constant butt of jokes around Douglas Station, ridiculed for being the only non-mining ship owned by the Guild. It made her crew fume to be so obviously sought out and targeted for their distinct uniqueness. Yet it was also times like these that made the miners appreciate having a vessel along that was purpose-designed for warfare.

But she was outnumbered here, a minnow among giants.

"Confirmed. Numerous new contacts arriving in-system. Recommend mining barges suspend immediate operations sir." a voice called across the bridge. Her captain nodded at the remark, glancing up at the DRADIS screen suspended over his head. A bevy of markers and contacts were present on the screen, all of them in the gold boxes that denoted neutral contacts whose disposition was unknown. In all his time of service in the military and in civilian years, he'd never known this many ships to congregate on a system.

"Order the mining barges to prepare to suspend operations. Fighters are to stand by ... ops, let's get a drone off to Douglas Station. Request immediate notification of fleet command, what little good it'll do them," the master and commander muttered to himself under his breath. It caused a sharp glance from his first mate, who went back to attending to the fighter control station. Outside a pair of mining drones rumbled slowly along the length of the retired frigate, scanning and looking for any stray rocks that might have escaped from their clutches. Below and to the escort vessel's aft, the Xichun had doubled her efforts to grab whatever last traces of raw minerals she could rip from the asteroid before having to flee the area.

"Look at the size of those ships," sensors muttered to the second mate. He leaned in for a good look at the new arrivals, seeing the readouts on the screen as the passive instrumentation took detailed readings on the biomech carriers. The vessels were large and positioned well enough to block out some of the starlight with their bulk. The sight made the second mate recheck the range reading from the ships to the Cokehold, glad on some inner level that it would take a good fifteen-minute flight from the vessels to reach the mining barges and their escort.

"The Praetorium is being informed by tightbeam as the situation unfolds," The Trierarch was saying, his face displayed four times its actual size on Phlegethon's holoscreen. "Messenger drones are too slow and susceptible to interception. There are too many unknown variables in the situation right now."

Marcus nodded. "Understood, domine. Saevitia and Carnifex report that the craft in the asteroid belt appear flustered, although their language is unfamiliar. Lllewellianus and Ahenobarbus have managed to pinpoint their transmissions' wavelengths and data streams."

The Trierarch nodded, then his eyes flicked to the side of the screen. "Priority tightbeam from the Praetorium. I'm routing it to you." A second later, the laurel wreath and SPQR insignia of the Republic appeared on Marcus' holo, followed by a box of text. "System cleared for colonization," Marcus murmured, reading the important snatches aloud. "Expel all foreign presences with all necessary force. Combat Battlegroups Chimera and Charybdis assembling for tesseract transit." He looked back at The Trierarch's perpetually impassive features. "Permission to begin, domine."

The Trierarch nodded. "I trust you to do what is best, Marcus. All pentads will converge on the planet at 2350. Until then, your time is yours."

"Understood, domine."

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

Navarch Llewellianus nodded as Marcus finished giving orders and cut the holo connection. "Commtech, hail those mining ships. Rout our signal and bounce it off the Lumena transponders so they can't pinpoint us." He looked back at the Saevitia's holoscreen, which displayed the small mining fleet on visual from where Saevitia slowly circled them at a distance of less than two klicks. Carnifex did the same, but on the opposite side. "Fire Control, prep railcannon batteries Alpha through Gamma in case they do not comply."

A minute later, the Cokehold's and the Xichun's comms buzzed to life with the following transmission:

<Ignotae naves, sis statim agnoscite. Haec area est sub Romana militari auctoritate. Sis agnoscite et excedere viciniam. Si non obsequamini, coniicere suscipiemus. Habemus tectos laterum, et non vim uti demorabimur>*



*OOC:Unknown vessels, please identify immediately. This area is under Roman military authority. Please identify and depart the system. If you do not comply, we will open fire. We have you flanked and will not hesitate to use force.
(For IC accuracy, the Latin above is what the Bautezarians will have heard, although I doubt they'd know Latin anyway. For the players' sake, I have translated it here.)

The drop pods landed on the ground with a mighty crash. Sending dust clouds into the sky above. It looked like something had exploded. The gunships where not far behind. Hovering just over the points of landing. The pods which carried about 5 Dark bio-soldiers per each landed in a scattered formation. As the dust cleared the pods where visable, looking like god sprinkled black ink on to the ground. But if anyone was watching they would see that the black dots where growing. The pod doors burst open and the dark soldiers within came forth unto the light and began to get into formations. The pods how ever, only sat there. But the ground under them began to change and morph. The sand and rock of the craters slowly took form of Black- purplish metal and spread like ink in water. The pods slowly took new shapes as well turning from pods to buildings and defesive stations.


High above the world, The Dark commander watched making sure the operation was going to plan. But his plan was to help the newest Imperial state. So he issued his statment:


" Do not be alarmed. We are not your enemy. We have a higher purpose for our meeting. Before you, is my armies. And soon most of the planet will change and morph into what you see. In fact we come giving you an option. If you wish to do as we do, and conqure lands and planets with ease. Then go to the army before you and seek the "egg""

Activity on the bridge of the Cokehold had become more feverish and intense with each passing minute, the situation clearly beginning to escalate from the peaceful mining that they had enjoyed here for the last two months. To all sides heads turned as the unknown language rang out over the ship's speakers, communications frowning at her station before beginning to hurriedly work on a rough translation. It was clear from the tone that it had been delivered by a military-trained man. And whatever the meaning was, it was ugly.

"Emergency jump, all mining barges, NOW," the captain barked at communications, glancing up from the plot table that was aft of his command chair. He didn't look outside as the ships began to wink out one-by-one, the massive vessels jumping clear of the system.

=()= Unidentified vessel, System asteroid field =()=

It whirred and purred softly to Itself, metal wings still and unmoving as It saw the vessels depart. 2 Type 14-21-A Mining Barges, 1 Type 14-20-C Mining Barge. 1 Type 200 class light frigate, IFF transponder not transmitting on a military frequency. Visual markings consistent with the Guild of Miners station in the Tau-14 system, sixteen jumps away.

Its visual camera turned to examine the rocks in the area, looking for any sign of the transmission source. It found nothing after yet another moment of silent watching, but the commands received from afar told It to remain quiet and unobtrustive, and watch what was taking place in the system. When the time was right, It would receive company and a chance to return to Its home.

The wolves stalked the group of humans nearing the crash site. They had to lay low and act natural, yet they also needed a Patriarch to led them. The Larvaetons were special, becoming as sentient as their hosts were. So the need of the patriarch was still only instinct.

They weren't the only ones stalking them. In the bushes, some Larvaetons from the Cacuscudo Sac being spawned had already undergone metamorphosis and become Shrykas. One of them was special, holding the Caedes Gene inside it, waiting to imbed itself into te ruling host.

The squadron of ships led by the NX-09 dropped out of warp just inside the system's Oort Cloud in order to get their bearings. Almost immediately, preprogrammed sub-routines activated Tactical Alerts on all thirteen ships upon the detection of unidentified alien craft.

"Report!" ordered Admiral Black.

"Sensors detected massive amounts of unexpected craft, sir," replied the Commander, "checking, but so far none are in our database.....Hang on a sec, one group just vanished. Most likely some form of FTL."

"What the hell is going on around here!" exclaimed Black, "this was supposed to be an out-of-the way system no one knew about where we could run a live fire test exercise."

"I know," replied Sarah, "but apparently someone has found it since our last intel on the place."

"I can see that," responded Black sarcastically.

"Don't you take that tone with me," chuckled Sarah.

"Forget it," groaned Black, "Communications, have the squadron switch to Tactical Band Theta 3. Conn, plot a warp jump to that gas giant and engage when ready. Put us into orbit just inside the outermost cloud layer upon arrival."

"Aye, sir," responded both mentioned officers.

To all intents and purposes, the comm chatter between the Trinity Blood ships went silent as all but important messages were switched to a channel reserved for situations where having intercepted comm messages was preferred not to happen. In flashes of light, all thirteen ships made a Warp 1 jump to the Class J world in system and descended into the atmosphere to hide while things were sorted out.

OOC: This counts as a multiple event first contact situation for my nation.
Oh, for the record, my guys arrived just before Bautizar's mining fleet went 'bye-bye'.
Oh, and Tactical Alert means the hull armor is polorized and the weapons brought on-line, charged, and deployed automatically (it was originally created because it took to long to do it all manually).

small worm holes open and closed in lest then a min all around the system leaving behind 20 very small unmanned probes

OOC: (Im kinda taking a bit of liberties with the soldiers here. I figured they would fight back if something like a wolf attacks. Hope you dont mind)

IC


The Shrykas stalked nearby while the wolves watched from a distance. The nine men walked closer towards the spore. Closer to the trap.

The wolves struck, biting into the first soldier's thoat. The blood flowed out of his throat, suffocated by the wolf's jaw. The other soldiers opened fire on the wolf, stuffing the creature with bullets and killing him instantly. The other wolves attacked. The pack began to open fire, killing the wolves on the spot. But this was merely a distraction.

The Shrykas had snuck behind the soldiers and leaped on their backs.

"Get it off me!! Get it off me!!" one screamed before the Shryka plunged its barbed tail into the throat. It used its jaws to burrow into the body. The other too were ambushed, one had the Shryka on his chest. It stared coldly into his eyes as the tail impaled through the rib cage and into the heart. The sarge had them covering him, but he kept batting them off.

The squad began running, losing already 3 men to the Shrykas. As they kept running, another wolf leaped at a straggler, tackling him on his legs and pulling him back towards the Shrykas. Another soldier turned around to save him. However, as he lifted his weapon, the Caedes Shryka leaped onto his face and plunged the tail into it. The soldiers fell dead as they were dragged back towards the spore.

Beneath the ground, the body of the man stabbed by the Caedes Shryka was dragged near the Cacuscudo Gestation Sac, now a fully functional organism the size of a bus. There the transformation would began as each Shryka burrowed into the body and began laying the Larvaeton Eggs inside. All except the Caedes Shryka, whose biomass began to liquify and whose genetic material began to get imbeded into the soldier. Inside the sacs, the first generation of Kraeton shocktroops were already in the making.

Above the ground more Shrykas chased down the remaining soldiers...

Sarannia, Planet Surface

Staff Sergeant Mike Yowls ran for his dear life. But he did keep the thought of his men in his mind, checking back to make sure she still had men to check on. They ran for 15 minutes, and Sergeant Yowls stopped and regrouped what was left of his men. The men whispered, just incase one of the things followed them.

"God damn mother f**king whores! What the f**ck were those things? Not to mention those bloody wolves too!"

"Sweet jesus! I made it!"

"Calm down, everyone! Snap back! Alright, did any of you get one of the scientists?" Whispered the Sarge.

"Negative sir, but I saw Private McGeer get one with his knife in the spine, just before one of those... things got him."

"Yeah, got one with my rifle. But then a wolf knocked me over and I dropped it. But I have my pistol."

"Crap... that leaves one left... he have to get him. Orders are orders. You, call in a drop ship. You, and you, your with me! We are going to go get that last one." It was settled, no fighting, the one with the pistol stayed behind, calling for a drop ship. The rest of the remainders crept back to a fallen tree trunk over looking the alien pod. They watched for a minute as the creatures gathered the remains of the dead squad. There was also a pile of dead wolves. A small feat in a loosing conflict. Mike balanced his rifle on the tree trunk. He switched to single shot and followed the head of the last scientist. Then his SQUADCOM turned on, of course the earpiece was concealed in his helmet, which protected from any messages or noise from going anywhere but the helmet wearer.

"Sir, Pelican is coming in one minute. They they are dropping a bio-bomb once we get back. The Pelican has no weapons loaded, so its going to have to wait."

Mike said nothing, he was focused on picking one of his own humans. This is sick very very wrong... He thought to himself, but he reminded himself, orders were orders. He squeezed off a single round. Now if he didn't feel so bad about taking the life of one of his own, he would have been proud of the dead accuracy. He also noticed that Corporal Richard Frassin's body was off to the side, not with the rest of the bodies. He tried for a shot at him, but then noticed that the monsters had noticed the first shot and where it came from.

"Run... Run... RUN!!!" Yelled the Sarge and he turned and bolted towards the LZ. From behind he could hear as one of his men were caught, but he couldn't stop. So instead he ripped a Bio Grenade from his webbing and pulled the pin, tossing it behind his head, a fair distance, making sure not to land it close to the other soldier. He sprinted as fast as he could, he saw the clearing ahead, a sigh of relieve escaped his mouth. But he caught some movement to his right, and noticed it was the Pvt. Miller, being stabbed and tossed around. He fired a few rounds from his rifle as he continued towards the LZ. When he turned around, a C-62 Pelican dropped its rear door, the sarge stumbled aboard, wiped around and fire off more rounds in the tree line where the creatures erupted. He then held out his hand to help the last man on board, and as the private lifted his hand, a look of disbelief washed across his face, and dropped to the floor of the pelican. "GO!!!" yelled the sarge into the SQUADCOM. The pelican launched off fast, the sarge pulled the body further into the cabin, and took notice of a dagger of sorts sticking out of the man's back. But there was slight movement, he was still alive, barely.

Gamma-8-Alpha stood at the control altar barking orders at the cultists assembled around him. Things had yet to even begin and already they were doing badly. Epsilon-2-Beta's carrier had already been destroyed in a run-in with a New Oxford patrol - destroying the ship and fleeing before the Cult could bring down its righteous fury upon them.

His fingers running across the control altar in a slow, methodical fashion - ship captains were not chosen for skill - he brought up the tactical display and a commlink to the other two carriers.

"Brothers, our time has come. Launch three fighter wings and destroy their feeble defences. They shall not see tomorrow."

The docking bays erupted in rapidly dispersing smoke as the docked fighters launched, screaming towards the planet. The bay doors closed again, while more fighters were moved into position for launch.

=()= System Asteroid Belt =()=

There were new flashes from the asteroid belt, winks of light that appeared and disappeared with equal speed. Elongated shapes of armor and weapons were sliding to subspace, flight pods flanking the thick center hulls and giving them a menacing appearance from the bow. Even before the last vessel had slid into place in the formation there was movement, smaller secondary turrets rotating their twin barrels down from the stowed vertical position. Other hatch covers were sliding aside, revealing Rapier missile pods whose ordinance waited for the command to fire.

The heavy battlecruisers and cruiser/carriers moved silently and with a purpose, lights on the exteriors of the flight pods illuminating their names as the larger thousand-meter-long warships rumbled with hidden energy. Pinnacle of Valor. Pillar of Autumn. Aboukir, one of whose pilots snapped the gun camera photo seen above. Standing Ready. Temeraire. Audacious. Steward of Bautizar. Dogs of War.

Other shapes were appearing too, smaller blurs of movement as fighters screamed from the launch tubes. Their engines blasted as the attack craft spun into formation, forming lines and diamond formations whose pilots and sensors scanned for any new contacts. Inside the flight pods bombers continued to wait on the flight decks for the command to launch, their crews admiring the view out through the triangle-shaped exits along the forward and aft axis.

The light cruisers were in motion as well, smaller vessels half the size of the battlecruisers and cruiser/carriers that they were tasked with supporting. More mobile than their heavier cousins, their engines burned more brilliantly as weapons rotated into position. On their flight pods were names as well. Champion. In Amber Clad. Hero. Standard. Ardent.

A single transmission crackled from somewhere in the formation. "All ships, set formation Golf-three-one. Engines ahead one-quarter."

On the flag bridge of the Pinnacle of Valor bodies moved with silent and crisp efficiency, out of deference to the short and white-haired figure seated in the raised command chair. It was flanked by the rows of consoles to either side and behind both it and the figure it held. Vice Admiral James Hawke, two-time recipient of the White Tree Knight's Cross for Distinguished Military Service, drummed his fingers on the chair's armrest as his intent eyes peered out over the spectacles. A sudden flare in brilliance caught his attention, engines intensifying their energy for a moment. Less than a moment later he realized that it was the Aboukir increasing speed to move into formation. A cruiser was keeping pace in the classic dorsal "shotgun" position, small dots and blurs of fighters moving all around both vessels.

"The miners quit the system as soon as we hailed them, domine. We've deep-scanned the area thoroughly but haven't found anything yet, just some cosmic radio-wave chatter bouncing off the asteroids here."

Marcus nodded to Llewellianus over the holoscreen. "Seed the area with stealthed observers and return back for the rendezvous. Do not leave full dark. You and the observers were never there, understand?"

"Yes, domine." Llewellianus cut the connection. Marcus glanced back to the allnet display, showing the five pentads of the Battlegroup converging on the planet that was the center of all other activity in the system. The Trierarch appeared on holo, broadcasting to all of his fleet captains plus Marcus.

"Gentlemen, we have been ordered by Praetorium High Command to lay forceful claim to this system, and to expel all outsiders by whatever means necessary. It is very likely that we will go into combat operations within the next several days. Combat Battlegroups Chimera and Charybdis are en route from Auriga Chi-Septem, but until they make the tesseract transit we are very much alone. I trust you to do your duties with unflinching discipline and devotion to the service of our great Republic. Bona fortuna, socii, et gloria victoria Romae!"

"Gloria victoria Romae!" Marcus intoned along with the Navarchi. As soon as The Trierarch's face disappeared from the holo, Marcus began giving orders. "Commtech, bring the tightbeam online and synchronize with Battlegroup Tactical. Fire Control, prepare all railcannon and missile batteries for immediate action and heat the primary combat reactors. Launch all Fury wings to assume escort pattern Lambda with gunships. Comm, relay orders to onboard Marine units to suit up and take their battle stations for possible boarding operations." The Phlegethon descended into organized chaos as the pentad prepared itself for impending battle. Six wings of Fury-class fighters launched from Phlegethon's hangar levels and took up positions around the 2 kilometer long battleship and her smaller Pallas and Hercules-class cruiser and destroyer escorts, accompanied by a wing of Myrmidon gunships. The pentad joined the other four, and the entire Battlegroup approached Sarannia in a huge arc. The following ultimatum was broadcasted at the planet on all communications channels:

<Haec area est sub Romana militari auctoritate, de imperio Praetorii. Omnes naves ignotae imperantur excedere viciniam. Ullum inimicum factum an offensio obsequi cernetur denuniationem, et tota ira Republicae respondetur. Tres horae excedere viciniam habetis an ab armis discedere, ante vastamus aliquos non obsecutos>*


*OOC: "This area is under Roman military authority, by order of the Praetorium. All unknown vessel are ordered to depart the system. Any hostile act or failure to comly will be seen as a declaration of war, and will be answered with the full wrath of the Republic. You have three hours to depart the system or lay down arms, before we destroy any who have not complied."

His eyes opened, slowly at first. It was pitch black, damp, and very cold. He tried to stand up, but he couldn't. Something was strange, he thought. he couldn't move his leg muscles. Panicing he tried to yelled, but nothing came out except a warm liquid from a hole in his throat. It was blood.

He began sweating, scared to death as to what was going on. Grabbing his belt, he unhooked a flashlight and turned it on. The horror had finally unveiled itself.

The sac had already begun production and countless quadripedal creatures were already crawling around the massive cavern like colossal ants. Each Kraeton Asesino was the size of a horse with eight jaws littered with jagged teeth and dripping with acidic saliva. Some seemed to be hovering about the writhling sac, guarding the grotesque organ with their lives as the blood continued pulsating through its deep scarlet veins. Others were leaving in packs, digging large elaborate tunnels to branch out and escape the sight of the rulers of the planet.

The soldier looked to his left and saw his other teammates lying dead on the ground. Their carcasses looked as though something was eating through the dead skin. A closer look showed Larvaetons, slithering through the liquid innard of the bodies, digesting them and growing in number. One soldier however was going through something completely different. His entire biomass had degenerated and left behind some sort of flesh cocoon. It too was pulsating to the same rhythm as the Cacuscudo sac, as if it were a beating heart. What was going on, he though. If his vocal cords were working, he would have been screaming for dear life.

He could feel something inside of him. Something slithering inside of his body. He had been afraid to shine the flashlight onto him, but he had no choice. As the light hit his stomach, his face writhed with horror. His stomach was already ripped open, lined with hundreds of small, gel-like eggs. They began shaking. Beating...

Hatching.

He watch with horror as each egg hatched, revealing new Larvaetons slithering through his body. He could feel the pain surging through his body as they began tearing through his organs like the living tide of monsters they were. Voracious and unrelenting, they continued their unholy work until the man could feel no more.

No one could save him. Not now...not ever...

* * *

They stayed in the woods, waiting for the moment to strike for food. The Asesinos ran through the woods in search for prey and had literally consumed anything in their paths, from deer to packs of wolves. Asesinos however know no satiation in their nigh-endless appetites and continued the search for food. Ahead was a massive creature, brown and very hairy. A bear. It had sensed the Asesinos and was ready to prepare a defense against them.

Or so it thought...

They struck like lightning, tackling the bear with their powerful jaws plunging into his hide. The bear howled as it swatted one of the Asesinos away. They continued their ferocious assault, frenzying around the woodland carnivore, now being flung down the food chain. It continued striking at the Kraetons while they kept biting him, their poison slowly killing him. Suddenly, they stopped and stepped back. Confused and hurt, the bear began limping away, celebrating his victory over the new predators. But the victory was merely an illusion. The bear could smell the creature, but he could not see him. Turning frantically, he began running. It was no use. The bear stopped cold, twelve holes punched through his body. Dripping from the ghost-like tendrils was his blood, the only thing revealing the invisible creature. The optical camouflage cells began their chemical reactions and soon the creature became visible. It was a bit larger than the Asesinos, yet lacked much of the chitinous armour they had. It had twelve strong tentacles on his back, each with four chitinous daggers on them as well as on the end of his tail. He was much smarter, emitting some sort of psychic synapselink to the lesser Asesinos. Unlike them, who succumb to feral behavior and tactics, this creature was cunning and used them and his abilities to kill efficiently.

This was the Sicari and this was his forest now. The others ate up, storing the important nutrients for the gestation sac they had called mother since their spawning. The Sicari however took something else from the bear; his blood. For the Sicari, his niche was in dissecting and collecting genetic DNA from all lifeforms for the future Caedes of the planet.

The Sicari stared off into the horizon, already seeing some signs of civilization ahead. It would be soon...it would be soon...

=()= Clearing the Asteroid Belt, Outer System =()=

"Sir ..." the officer hesitated for a moment as Sir Hawke turned to look steadily at him. "... We've intercepted a message transmitted from one of the fleets farther in system. Communications is working on translating it now. Their preliminary analysis is that it originated from the same one that was hailing the miners prior to departure."

The vice admiral nodded his acknowledgement, dismissing the man, but not before receiving a copy of a Commonwealth Data System Device. A hand adjusted his spectacles, enhancing the text for his failing vision. Meaningless he concluded after a minute of hard looking at it. It would take days to run a proper translation and extrapolation from just this transmission and the other one. Even with all the PhotoNanotech computer cores and computing horsepower at his disposal, there were moments that he found himself cursing the burden of command. This was one of them where he had to refrain from swearing aloud.

A glance out throught the forward windows confirmed that the fleet was still moving forward, albeit slowly. Preceded by the heavy battlecruiser Aboukir and cruiser/carrier Audacious, it was an impressive formation at any rate. There would be some sore pilots out there soon though, and that would cause a stand-down of fighters throughout the formation. At least to a less-intensive level. "Combat, range to the larger fleet?"

"Little over nine lightyears sir," the leftenant reported without a discernable pause. "Opening slowly. Sensors clear locally." Sir Hawke nodded, half to himself and half to nobody while he thought and glanced up at the DRADIS display that was mounted more forward on the ceiling. Its unending sweeps were panning across the area, showing the space around the task force. He didn't need to look out the windows again to know that the ships were still advancing, preceded by fighters and a vigilant forward screen. His thumb drummed for a moment on the armrest of the command chair, railing against the unyielding metal before stopping.

"Communications, anything from the construction ships?"

The brunette ensign glanced up from her screen, giving a slight shake of her head. "Nothing recent sir. Last message indicated station construction was underway and proceeding at expected speed. Force C arrival at construction site still estimated for ..." she glanced at a part of the panel that only she could see. "Six hours sir."

"Of all the damned places to build a major fleet forward operating facility, the Admiralty picks a spot two systems away from fleet ground zero," Captain Vian observed quietly from next to the vice admiral. A glance showed that the flag officer agreed with the sentiment, but not the means of delivery. Still grousing to himself, the captain moved away and headed for his ready room, the look on his face conveying his sudden focus on something.

Sarannia, Orbit

"Sir, message from UCN Fleet 003. Admiral Micheal Field is just entering the operation theatre now. He pointed to the only recognizable ships that entered the system since when the last of the civilian cargo ships weeks ago arrived. There was a sigh of relief over then entire crew.

"Excellent, get them to get over here and watch those biomech fellows. Also if they could check out that Asteroid Belt where those miners where, we recorded some jumps in there. But we have had too much to do to watch over a bunch of miners."

"Admiral, the carriers have launched fighters." Little holographic fighters exited the carriers and raced towards the UCN fleet.

"God damn it! Orders are to fire the MAC rounds, and missiles. Fighters, engage the enemy forces!" The UCN destroyers fired their MAC guns in a row, one after another, like an automatic weapon. From the previous order the admiral gave, the rest of the fleet, that was once watching the biomech fleet, turned hard around and fired their main MAC guns. Corvettes, Cruisers, and Frigates started to move in closer to the carriers, using with close-quarters anti-air guns to repel any fighters that thought to engage them. Most of the first shots of the MAC rounds missed, as the distance was huge between, the carriers moved out of the projectiles path. "Anything?"

(OOC: Technically, that would be godmoding, but since this is space, there's really not much you can do unless the guns miss. Really. I can't see how I could possibly migitate that in any way.

Also, once the fighters get to within 100km, feel free to waste them without allowing me to RP out damage.)

The airlocks slammed shut as hapless cultists and cut through fighters were sucked into the cold, deadly vacuum of space. From the windows, one could see them struggle for those last terrible seconds before expiring, their dead corpses floating away.

Gamma-8-Alpha saw his subordinates' image shudder for a few seconds.

"Gamma-8-Alpha, we have been hit. Many of our siblings were lost, but ten of our docking bays are still intact."

"Do not let them fire again. Deploy all fighters."

"I hear and obey."

The carriers spat out another three wings of fighters, though one was missing two of the fighters, a definite sign of the crippled state.

---

The fighters continued at breakneck speed towards the ships, vaguely weaving through the firepower directed at them. Green forms exploded left and right as the combined might of flak cannons and skilled fighter pilots culled their numbers.

One wing broke off from the formation, and scattered, pursuing the enemy fighters, firing less-than-effectually with their primitive laser cannons.

The others moved with singular purpose, ignoring the fighters which were wiping them out methodically. As they approached the frigates, their movements became more erratic, culminating in impact.

Metallic green forms crumpled against the hulls of the large vessels.

"For the Glory of the Emerald One!" came the inhuman cry over the radios.

The surviving fighters and those intentionally crushed forms against the frigates all detonated, their antimatter payloads combusting into brilliant explosions - though a canny observer would note the lack of skill with which the bombs were exploded.

=()= Clearing the Asteroid Belt, Outer System =()=

"Antimatter detonations" an unknown voice barked over the fleet command frequency. Sir Hawke suppressed a moment's irritation, restraining himself for a demand for the name of the vessel that had just transmitted the communication. A most unprofessional means of conducting oneself, his mind quietly said as the sound of blaring sensor alarms across the bridge came to his ears. It seemed as if even the passive arrays had picked up the signs of the battle raging farther in-system.

A sense of calm hit the frequency a moment later, a more professional voice that did not belong to the vice admiral coming over the speakers. "Aboukir confirms. Numerous antimatter detonations at bearing 019.14, range eight-point-one lightyears. Yield and strength unknown at this time."

"Note to the log Mister Wallace," the captain of the flagship remarked from her chair at Sir Hawke's right. "Vessel Aboukir confirms antimatter detonations from site of battle in Tau-21 system." The brusque directive brought a nod from the command battlecruiser's executive officer, who turned to his station and began tapping on several keys. New images and lines of text flashed onto the display screens that were at his disposal, but neither the captain or the vice admiral paid them any attention.

There was a subtle click as the vice admiral's index finger depressed a key on the armrest control panel of his chair. "Pinnacle of Valor to all ships, maintain formation and speed. Aboukir, commence launch of one reconnaissance drone squadron; scramble alert priority one. Jump your drones to a position outside the battle perimeter immediately after launch."

"Acknowledged. Aboukir commencing launch."

For at least two minutes there was no outwardly change in disposition of the brooding heavy battlecruiser, whose outstretched flight pods so often reminded pilots of one of the old cowboys fanning his holstered weapons prior to a shootout. The vice admiral watched this lack of activity with a critical eye, studying the far-off shape of the task force vessel. Finally, oh so finally, his vision began to see the new blurs and dots of the unmanned reconnaissance craft launching into space. Barely any time passed before there were twelve flashes of light as they jumped away.

An old and familiar voice came onto the frequency hot on the heels of their departure, conveying a new sense of wariness with every word. "Aboukir to fleet, general alert. Incoming vessels at bearing 021.25, range one-point-four lightyears and closing rapidly. Type and classification unknown. Requesting orders."

"Audacious and Aboukir, new threat axis at 021.25. Reconfigure your perimeter accordingly. All other ships hold course and speed," Sir Hawke immediately stated, before readjusting in his chair. A glance at the DRADIS screen confirmed the original assessment as the formation of unknown size and strength appeared, bearing down on his own task force in a manner that was not quite reckless, but at the same time not quite assertive. Clearly someone on the other side was being cautious about this new situation, even as the cruiser/carrier and the heavier battlecruiser began to turn to unmask their broadside weapon arrays.

It was only when a cough from the captain reached his ears that the vice admiral stirred in his chair, jerked out of his thoughts and back to the present. Activity on the bridge had lapsed slightly, the junior personnel no doubt waiting to see what his reaction was going to be. The decision wasn't hard to reach. "Communications, challenge them."

The captain gave a nod of approval to the appropriate officer, who turned to her screen with both purpose and newfound determination. Slender fingers rapped firmly on her keyboard, calling up new protocols and documentation for her to consult even as a hand readjusted the boom of the headset that she wore. "This is the Commonwealth Naval Ship Pinnacle of Valor to unidentified incoming vessels. State your identification and intentions ..."

"Report!" ordered Admiral Black.

Sarah replied, "Sir, it looks as if the other groups represented in system were to focused on each other to notice our arrival."

"Sir!" exclaimed the tactical officer, "picking up what looks like antimatter charges going off."

The NX-09 had ascended to just within the fringes of the outermost cloud layer to get a better look at what was going on in the system a few minutes after the squadron had dove several kilometers down into the gas giant.

"We should consider ourselve's lucky," said Black with a sly grin.

"Why's that?" inquired Sarah.

"We'll let them duke it out and, when the fighting's stopped, go through the debris for anything that could proove beneficial to us."

"Ahh," responded Sarah, "I see where you're going with this and I like the way you think. Still, we'll have to contend with any survivor craft when we do."

"Correct," agreed Black, "but, by then, they'll most likely be damaged to a point where they won't pose a threat."

"We'll see," said Sarah, "plans can and will change as time goes on and new data is gathered."

"Agreed," sighed Black, "you do have a point there."

"Oh but Commodore, we do ssooo hate to intrude on a private party..."
"Commander Creideiki, cut the crap, this is important."
Suddenly all business, Creideiki, one of the youngest 'fins to reach Commander since they had been permitted to join the service, responded.
"Sir. System assessment is unclear. There is ongoing combat in-system, with signs of multiple antimatter annihilations a little while ago. As far as we can tell, the flotilla will be as big as any combatant party, though confidence on that is only 60%.
In any case, there is nothing so big as to overwhelm us within range of our sensors."

"Very good Commander." Commodore Allen tolerated his quirks because Creideiki was the best G3 (Operations) staff officer he'd ever known. His plans sometimes looked lunatic, but they worked more often than you'd expect, and sometimes worked spectacularly.
"Your suggestions?"
"Well sir, I'd suggest establishing any friendly parties in system first. Members of the LFW, Undershi, Kirisubans...sending an open signal announcing ourselves and calling on friendlies to give us a sit-rep. Our reconnaissance is helping matters, but we're still in the dark here."
"Good idea. Comms, a message from the Commodore to the system at large:"
From: Commodore James Allen, Incognitia Ship Hayfield, Fifteenth Flotilla
To: whom it may concern, NGC-15991 system
On our way home from an anti-piracy mission that led us way off our normal shipping lanes, we were surprised to see the signs of battle. We have no immediate interest in this conflict, but if any vessels from a League of Free Worlds member state are present we are bound to assist you. Please respond with a sit-rep and request for assistance.
Any others should know that we are not empowered to act with military force save in self-defence or assistance of an ally. However our definition of self-defence includes enforcing a substantial exclusion zone of the order of light-minutes for unknown vessels, so don't get funny.

As Creideiki kept planning for various contingencies, the Hayfield, a battle-cruiser, the heavy cruisers Juxon and Walton, light cruisers Woodstock, Cardigan and Clarendon and assorted escort vessels headed in-system from the Oort Cloud. They were arrayed against expected threats from further in, and sensors of all forms were interrogating the surrounding cuparsecs for information. If no response came, was the final contingency.
"What then?"
"We go home. This place is not our mission, those pirates were."
"Aye sir."

The dark biomech menece had already landed upon this planet and soon the beauty it held would be replaced by the twisted mess of metal and war factories. And this process had already begun. The ground from the landing zone had already been full converted. The blackish purple metal plateing that the ground had become was moving faster and faster. Getting closer and closer to the UNC bases that the dark biomechs had landed. Trees and rocks lost their shapes and basic construct and morphed into something completely different forms. Rocks and trees now looked like radiotowers ans small weapons emplacments. Larger objects turned into larger anti-space turrets. In some places the ground has shifted and began to turn into buldings and pods. The conversion had begun.

There were flashes from well outside the perimeter of the battle zone, that area where titanic explosions and collisions of munitions with shields and steel alike were raging almost without end. When the new pinpricks of light had faded, a total of twelve craft appeared, wings outstretched and engines softly glowing.

It didn't take long before their sensors kicked in, along with limited artificial intelligence programs that conferred amongst themselves. By definition, the Commonwealth's unmanned reconnaissance drones were immensely curious things, and there was much to see and catalog here.

After 1.4 seconds they reached a consensus. Eight of their number simply winked out of sight, cloaking fields snapping into place as they started to spread out and observe the battle. The other four similarly disappeared, but it was towards the planet that they turned their spread-out wings and elongated bodies towards the nearby planet. There were strange power readings coming from its surface.

That information went back to the waiting task force almost immediately.

=()= Government House, Capital City of New Gibraltar, Bautizar VIII =()=

At the moment though the cares and worries of 12 little unmanned reconnaissance drones was the farthest thing from the mind of Prime Minister Sir Samuel Baxter, K.C.V.O., W.T.K.C. He glanced out the window of the house from which government policy was conducted, and in which he lived, seeing the low-altitude shuttlecraft and other aerial vehicles flying by among the skyscrapers outside. New Gibraltar had never seemed more busy and prosperous. He couldn't help but wonder if he was about to make a decision that would undo all that in less time than had already elapsed in the post-Unification era.

"Prime Minister, we need a decision." The voice was low but respectful, the figure of the First Lord of the Admiralty clearly ill-at-ease with the silence that had resulted from his earlier remarks. Behind him, on the wall screen, was a map showing the now-disputed Tau systems and the territory through which a lifetime of commerce and mercantile traffic ran. They were the lifeblood of the Guild of Miners, who had a representative waiting in the room, and the only route between the Commonwealth and its fellow members of the Confederation of Nations. None of whom had elected to join the International Trade Hub.

With a sigh the prime minister turned away from the sight outside, adjusting the spectacles on his face. He wished for some time to think this over, but a little voice in the back of his mind told him again that this decision had to be made now. After a glance at the admiral, he looked back at the two closed folders on his desk. Finally he picked up one, examining the thin manila sheath, before nodding to the military officer and the representatives. He knew the words within.

..... It is the determination of Her Majesty's Government that the presence of unknown and hostile forces within the Tau systems constitutes a clear and present danger to the safety and security of both the citizens and national interests of the Commonwealth. It is in accordance with this policy that the military is hereby directed to utilize whatever means necessary for the securement of all facilities and assets in the Tau-14 system, to complete construction as rapidly as possible on Battle Station Ticonderoga and all support facilities (including the Gibraltar Fleet Yards) in the Tau-25 system, and to oversee the establishment of colonies and other facilities indicative of a long-term Commonwealth presence in this region.

The subjugation of previously neutral worlds and stations in accordance with this policy is further authorized, extending in particular to the Exile planets of St. Daunaute and Camillar and the station of Freeport-1. Her Majesty's Government remains of the firm belief that no support can be offered by any of its citizens to foreign vessels or assets in the Tau systems, unless in pursuit of government policy or in accordance with the previously-mentioned directives.

Signed,
Sir Samuel Baxter
Prime Minister of Her Majesty's Commonwealth Government of Bautizar
18 January 3423

Sarannia, Orbit

Admiral Micheal Field, commading officer of the UCN Fleet 003, started his appoach of the near-by astroid field, ordered, no rather asked as they both held the same rank, by Admiral Eoin Spear. He was to check up on some energy jumps. Interferance from the field ment that the UCN forces couldn't get a fix on the siz ef the force, if any. The UCNS. Royal Ark, the flag ship of the 003 Fleet opened all fighter bays, preparing to launch a counter-attack in a worst case situation.

"Admiral, we are recieving a communication form the belt. A fix on the ships in three minutes, just getting past some interference. Forwarding message to your glasses." reported the ship's A.I. "Got a fix, they have begun to arm themselves."

"Very good, message recieved, send one back, 'This is the United Commonwealth Navy's Royal Ark, flag ship of the UCN Fleet 003. I am Admiral Micheal Field. We request you state you duties in now Commonwealth Space. We ask you disarm, or leave the system.' Alright got that? Sound general alarm, prepare the fighters, arm all missle pods. Instruct the rest of the fleet to charge MAC guns, and prepare missile pods. It's their move."

Onboard the Dog Star, in hyperspace over New Haven

"We're nearing the target site, sir." called Harvan Sepohri, the Sensor feed Coordinator.

"Very good. Do an active probe dump on the system. I want to know what we're dropping into."

"Yes, sir."

New Haven

Thirty probes suddenly materialised around the system, instantaneously sending out Active RADAR pings. As the pings returned, the information gleaned was dispatched back to the fleet, though it was slightly patchy.

=()= C.N.S. Pinnacle of Valor, Outer System =()=

"Admiral, they're arming weapons. Aboukir confirms they're opening doors on what looks likes fighter hangars." The flag officer glanced at the visual image being relayed from the aforementioned battlecruiser, seeing the change in disposition of the unknown vessels. His fingers drummed for a moment on the armrest of his chair, mind going over the just-relayed national security directive that had been passed along from the construction site.

"Challenge from the vessels sir," communications spoke up, cutting into his moment of thought. "According to the sender we're in the territory of the United Commonwealth. They're demanding that we identify ourselves and either stand down or withdraw."

The admiral and captain exchanged a glance at this piece of news. A settled system this close to the primary trade lane between the Commonwealth of Bautizar and the Confederation of Nations was not a welcome development. Never mind the fact that they had put not one, but two fleets into the system. Out in space to his front the Aboukir and Audacious were completing their turn, main batteries swinging out to starboard as the remainder of the task force closed in on them. A wall of grey hulls, dotted liberally with escorting fighters and backed by the fleet-of-foot light cruisers.

"Communications, send a reply," Sir Hawke finally directed with a glance at the appropriate station. "We are investigating reports of threatening action undertaken against citizens of Her Majesty's Government, and were most certainly not informed by appropriate diplomatic representation that this was a system that had been settled. Tell them that the Guild of Miners will wish to contest the claim, seeing as how they've had an active presence in this region and system for the last several years. Yet in the interest of ... peace, we will be withdrawing from the system in good time." The officer nodded and piped the message into her computer as the captain leaned over, speaking in a low tone.

"Sir? Our orders -"

"Our orders give us leeway, captain. We haven't established whether or not they're a threat to Her Majesty's Government, so we can act in the interest of the peace. Whereas they seem to be rather engaged at the moment," he stated with a knowing glance at the DRADIS. The long-range view was up right now, showing new energy spikes and other assorted signs of battle from farther into the system. After a nod of understanding and comprehension from the junior command office the vice admiral looked out the forward window again. He could see the glint of far-off starlight on the hulls of the incoming ships.

"Communications, priority transmission for Force C. Inform them that we've established contact with the United Commonwealth, further details forthcoming. Recommend immediate reinforcement of the defensive perimeter at the construction site, and that immediate priority be placed on acceleration of construction on the base defensive grid."

"New transmission sir," the second communications officer stated, cutting in sharply on the heels of the vice admiral's words. "Incognita squadron is broadcasting in the clear, inquiring for further details on the battle farther in. They're also asking if anyone from the League of Free Worlds is present in-system."

This prompted an even sharper glance between Sir Hawke and the Pinnacle of Valor's commanding officer. The thought of an ally by common commitment to a collective defense and security forum showing up in the Commonwealth's backyard was a welcome change of events indeed.

"Acknowledge their message," the vice admiral finally said in a pleased manner, glancing at the twinkling metal off ahead in the distance. "Inform them that our civilian forces have withdrawn from the system, and that both we and they have been confronted aggressively by no less than two parties claiming to represent the controlling authority in this system. And relay to the Incognita squadron that if we come under attack by either party, we'll be invoking the treaty in requesting military assistance. I -"

"ACTIVE TRANSMISSION!" tactical blared from his station. Immediately the admiral whipped around in his chair, focusing on the new source. "Small object, close aboard port side sweeping the area with some sort of scanning system ... we've definitely been tagged sir!"

"Helm, hard to starboard, engines ahead emergency!" The captain barked from her chair. Almost instantaneously the stars outside began to shift, the command vessel rolling away from the new threat. Under her belly roared a squadron of fighters, pilots' eyes narrowing as they looked for the intruder that their scanners were lighting up.

"Blue leader to Pinnacle, we have visual contact. Requesting orders."

"Blue leader, weapons free. I repeat, weapons free. Nail that thing before it lights us up any more" the voice shot back to him without hesitation. "We do not have a firing solution on the contact. I say again, no firing solution on the contact; it's in that close."

"Copy that," the veteran pilot barked into his facemask as he flipped a control. A growling tone sounded in his earphones almost immediately. "Going active with target lock ... missile away. All fighters break break break." The squadron roared out to either side, wheeling and hitting their afterburners as three missiles tracked in on their collective target. Over their heads the command vessel was accelerating as her aft shields were reinforced against the new threat. Guns on the nearby Standing Ready were swiveling to track the unidentified intruder, waiting for their chance to open fire in a steady drumroll that was sure to swat it out of the stars.

<Foreign vessels have not responded to our transmission, domine> Marcus said over the tactical tightbeam as he scanned the projection of the theatre and its occupants on the holoscreen. <Quae nobis imperia?>

<Deploy to tactical pattern Theta and advance at half impulse> The Trierarch answered. <Acheron is deploying painters. Fleetwide targeting AI's will hardlink to Acheron's data feed. I had hoped we wouldn't have to make the first aggressive move, but it may take us lighting up a few bogeys to get their attention>

<Intellectum> A stream of tiny blips shot forward from the Acheron and began to spread out, the painter drones already choosing individual ships at this distance to lock on to and beam tactical data back to the Battlegroup's warships. The Trierarch continued. <Pallas-class vessels, go to full dark and close with those fleets. Saevitia, Impunitas, approach from the center. Panthera, Carnifex, Vespertilio, and Persephone, get behind their upper right flank. Aliae, go for the lower left. Be ready to cripple as many targets as you can and get the hell out, on my command.

The Battlegroup's ten Pallades fired one last burst of their fusion reactors before shutting them down and coasting swiftly and ominously towards the fleets surrounding Sarannia, the minute firing of their attitude jets obscured by their Doppelganger fields.

"Sir, we have friendlies in-system!"
"What!?"
"Commonwealth of Bautizar. They say all civilians on their side have withdrawn, but the system is contested by at least two parties and they may come under attack at any time, in which case they will be calling on us under the LFW treaty."
"Very good. I want deep scanning to commence of the entire system. Give us full tactical awareness. Meanwhile begin moving to link up with their forces."

A shout from the tactical desk "Bautizarian vessel engaged in sharp evasive manouevres sir! We can't see what threat they're responding to, but there must be one."
"Keep it calm. If we can't see it, it can't be huge. Probably something small de-jumping too close."
"Aye sir."

"Oh and Comms?"
"Sir?"
"Acknowledge their transmission."
"Sir."

Undershi System: Jump Limit

Aboard the Command Bridge of the Undershi Navy Super-Battleship Beowulf, Vice Admiral Hermann Chan watched the Task Force assemble. They were making ready quite well - it impressed him, all in all.
There had always been plans for Undershi ships to conduct opperations out-of-system, but they had never before been used. Until now, the Undershis had stuck to their own system, living in their underground fortress cities, growing proteins and yeasts in vats as their food source, constantly struggling to maintain an inter-stellar war fleet with only two billion citizens... while at the same time, building up their industrial base. They were a hard people, from a hard world... they knew better than to expect life to be easy, or to hope for anything but long years of hard work and bitter conflict.
They were a people who believed in readiness for anything, a people who not only did not discourage paranoia, but encouraged it, considering it a virtue, something that increased the survival value of an individual.
By the standards of the psychology of any normal human, the average Undershi was completely insane, sociopathic, paranoid and possessed of no small measure of sadism.
A hard peolpe. A hard world.

Now that hard people were preparing to go to war, to come to the aid of their new-found allies. They had always known that the universe was a dangerous place, full of savage alien races and treacherous humans, all of whom would gladly see the Undershi cease to exist... but they had persisted. They had persisted, and they all held it as an article of faith that they would continue to persist until eventually, somehow, they triumphed over the opposition, and made the galaxy their own, made it into a place that would be safe for True Undershis.
None of them were stupid enough to think that they would live to see that day, or that their children or grandchildren would... but they took the long view - they would fight and they would die not for themselves or their children, but for their many-times-great-grandchildren.

The Task Force was ready.
Three Super-Battleships - the Beowulf, the Gilgamesh and the Siegfried. Thirty battleships, lighter vessels but still deadly... one hundred other ships, Cruisers and Light Cruisers and Destroyers and all sorts of other ships. A fleet such as none that the Undershi had assembled for foreign service in all the centuries of their exile from the earth. They would do what they could... and when they had done that, they would keep on doing what they could until they were either killed, or recalled. Such was the Undershi attitude - Honor and Duty, and forget all the rest.

The Task Force Jumped, on its way now to some strange new system.

The Asesinos underground were massing, cluttering the tunnels they had created like a horde of ants. The latticework of caverns and capilaries spread across a county-sized area. Already two more Cacuscudo Gestation Sacs were being spawned while the original one had almost finished its evolution and was beginning to rise out of the underworld. A deep bellow resonated through the cavern...

Above the surface, more creatures were being devoured by the growing murder of Asesinos, led by their very powerful lead Sicari. They began nearing a military instilation, ready for battle.

More Asesinos emerged from the ground, joining the charge against the station. The earth trembled and broke apart as something bigger joined the fray.

The Ballista...

<snip>

OOC: As I said in the OOC thread, I appreciate the commitment, but that's enough (As far as I know) to smack down all other forces currently involved in this RP single-handedly. Bit much really...

The massive amounts of open comm chatter between ships and fleets of the various nations represented in the system was readily picked up by the comm system of the NX-09 from her position just out of visual range inside the outer atmosphere of the gas giant. That is, all that was broadcast openly or had enough bleed off for it to be picked up.

"Get to work on translating this stuff," ordered Admiral Black.

"Aye, sir," replied the Comm Officer.

"Keep sensors at passive and rig for silent running," continued Black.

"Aye, sir," replied the relevant officers.

The light coming from the windows of the NX-09 went out as did her running lights. At the same time, her crew went about their work as quietly as possible.

OOC: Short and not the best I could do, but I couldn't think of what else I should do at this point in time and my plans aren't advanced enough yet for me to go ahead with making my presence actively known.

Sarannia, Orbit

"We have a reply sir, they are from Her Majesty's Government of Bautizar. They are here to investigate something, the message gets chopped up, but there was something about a Guild of Miners. They claim to have been here for a while. Wait... something jumped right beside their ship, and they are now engaging it. Contacts weapons have been fired. Send the fighters?"

Admiral Field sat in his chair, looking out the front glass, looking at the fleet in front of them. "Negative, all ships, hold your positions. Do not fire. Get a message back to them. Tell them that thing wasn't ours. And they may continue to investigate, just tell them to watch what they do, as it may be taken as a hostile act, as tensions are really running high. And they are to leave the moment their investigation is complete. And that the miners may work here, but they will be watched, and will be inspected so they had better have papers from now on."

"Sir, but there is no sign of any civilian vessels. Why don't we just fire a shot over their bow to get them out of here until the other issues are solved in the system."

"No, that is out of the question. We gave them our warning."


Sarannia, Planet Surface

Lieutenant Chuck Johnson was a slack of an officer. He didn't enjoy the whole recruitment 'See the Universe! Protect the homeland!', but he still fell for it. Well it was either that or be conscripted, and be a private, a grunt. Instead he signed up, and went to the Naval Academy, left after 3 years as a Junior Lieutenant, just in time for the expansion plan for the navy. He sat in his tent, with his helmet pulled over his face, pretending to sleep so the grunts wouldn't wake him, just cause they saw a wolf. Now Chuck was a good officer, a even better fighter, but he didn't show it, he thought that maybe it wasn't good enough and people might start to look down at him. But in reality, he was one of the best Junior Lieutenants in this sector. He didn't know it, but once his platoon was going back to main base in a week, we was going to receive his silver bars, 1st Lieutenant. This posting had been quiet; well this whole planet had been quiet, except for those rumors of wolf attacks and those silly ideas. Good god, what gets into those guy's heads? It was some large prank he thought. Nonetheless he had his boys tighten security around the out post. It wasn't a small outpost; there were at least 3 or 4 platoons here at one time. That's at least the size of a company. But the platoons here today weren't from the same company. And they had a know it all Captain from the 95th Rifles. God I hate that small man and his glasses, dork. He removed his helmet and placed it on the desk and was about to grab his mug of daily rum, he noticed as the rum started to pour over the side. "What the hell? Must those bloody armor boys, ridding around the camp, racing, shaking the entire place up. And the captain was probably asleep. He got up and opened the tent flap. An armored personal carrier zipped past. "HEY SLOW THE FU...." he stopped as he saw what was coming out of the tree line. "Sweet Jesus..." he returned to the safety of his tent and grabbed his assault rifle, webbing, and his helmet, then ran to the front barricade. That was where the majority of his men were positioned.

“Who, no what the hell are they LT?”

“How the hell should I know? You know what to do, once they get to the mines, and if they make it past that, use the heavy machine gun to get what’s left, and remember, if they make it past you, you know the mortars are going to start to be dropped on this location, so get the hell out of here, I’m going back to command bunker to get the orders and I’ll be right back. If they break through, you meet me by the drop ships and we will get the first out of here.”


Ooc: All right, you can RP your forces just smashing the front ranks, like leaving no one alive. Then I’ll take it from there.

Sarannia, Planet Surface

The city was in chaos, an enemy had landed right in front of them and they didn't know what to do.

"Do we shoot?" asked the confused privates.

"We don't have any orders, hold your fire, hold your fire I say!" replied the even more stumped officers. Then one of the Captains from the 163rd Mech Infantry stepped forward, with enough balls he coughed up what was a weak question, "Who are you and what is the egg?"

Sarannia, Orbit

The enemy fighters came screaming as the advancing fleet. The smaller corvettes took many of the hits of the fighters as they crunched into the bows of the Commonwealth ships, slowy three of the corvettes stopped and dropped out of the run, either like the UCNS. Delta where the command deck, the bridge, took a direct hit after the hits went down for only a metter of seconds, and the bridge was wipped off the vessel, or like the UCNS. Romeo where the Captain knew his shields had failed and started to pull back. Meanwhile the rest of the fleet charged the three carriers like the traditional charges like back on the planet Haven durring the time when the calvary ruled the planet. It was an approved tactic of the UCN Academy, but somethings just were. By now ships were firing their second or third round of MACs. Meanwhile most of the missiles remained in their pods, waiting for the final blow.

Onboard the Dog Star
As the reports came back, the probes were already dropping like flies, their flimsy forms easily cut through by even the most basic of weapons. Nonetheless, the ones which survived slightly longer gave fairly detailed maps and those which didn't, well, they didn't. At the bare minimum they gave danger locations for drops.

Parrian looked over the map, and picked out a location roughly between Sarannia and Titan that had been successfully sweeped before the probe's destruction.

"We drop in here. Winslow, I think you'd best get a message recording now so we can squirt it out to whoever is on the planets before we get shot."

"Good idea. I, personally, don't fancy a trip into space without a suit."

"Me neither. Let me know once you've gotten it ready and we'll drop in."

Haven System, Somewhere between Titan and Sarannia.
There was a dull reddish glow as the New Oxford fleet materialised from Hyperspace. Almost instantaneously, a message was broadcast to the inhabitants of the planets.

"People of this system, we have reason to believe you have been recently targetted by a dangerous group known as the Emerald Cult, and are currently or will be under attack from them. We are of the world known as New Oxford, and are here to help defend your system from this great threat, and any other that may arise during our presence."

Sarannia Orbit

Admiral Eoin Spear sat in his chair, his vessel still in combat with the unidentified carriers. He rested his head on his hand, his elbow on the chair arm. He looked down and watched as the holographic battlefield inferface showed real time updates. He watched as his fleet closed the gap between the two forces.

"Admiral, we have a message, it's come from new vessels that have jumped just now. They say that we might be under attack from someone called the Emerald Cult, that they either will be coming, or already are already here. And that they will provide help."

"Help? May or may not be here? Well they can pick a fleet for god sake. We have no positive I.D on any of these ship's apart from those in the belt, and we have somebody on those vessels. Send a message back that we recieve them and tell them which fleets are ours here."

"Message away."

=()= Her Majesty's Naval Ship Pinnacle of Valor, Outer system =()=

"- will also have to be inspected," communications relayed to the vice admiral and captain, finishing a summary of the reply that had been received in the aftermath of the unknown ship's destruction. The handful of snorts of derision from around the bridge were a good indicator of crew feelings on this matter, which even the vice admiral shared to a lesser extent. A group of newcomers to the Commonwealth's backyard calling the shots was unprecedented. Never mind the fact that they had the audacity to presume to prescribe policy to citizens of Her Majesty's Government.

We'll see what the Admiralty has to say about this Sir Hawke thought to himself as he rechecked the DRADIS for the umpteenth time this hour. Thus far the UCN fleet wasn't taking any overtly hostile action, which had resulted in HMN pilots flying escort along the battlecruisers and cruiser/carriers while a tense standoff ensued. The expanding cloud of debris from the unknown ship destroyed minutes before had already been forgotten about, save for a handful of sensor operators that were reviewing what little information and data had been collected.

"Helm, bring us left 50 degrees. Signal the formation to fall in along similar course, rearguard defense procedures in effect," he finally directed. For now, the ships of Her Majesty's Navy would remain out of this fight, biding their time on the perimeter and waiting to see what happened. The thought of being dictated to by a bunch of ignorant upstarts was starting to grate on Sir Hawke's nerves as he glanced over at the captain. "Commence fighter-landing procedures. Keep three squadrons out from each vessel, rotating on the hour until further notice."

She nodded and rose from her battle post, heading over to the flight control station while the vice admiral fumed and eyed the opening distance. This would never had been heard of had he had the full might of the Home Fleet here, or even a division of that almighty body. Instead of having to catfoot around the perimeter of this contested system, he would have already broken the UCN's backs and sent them scurrying to whatever hole they had crawled from. Even a pair of Spirit of Fire class refits, instead of the older first-generation ones that were currently deployed with Force H, would have been able to rain death and destruction on them with their automated fighter wings while remaining safe and out of the actual field of combat itself.

While Sir Hawke sat and brooded in his chair the ships of the formation were slowly turning and beginning to creep away from the UCN fleet. It wasn't enough of an angle to be called literal "turning tail," as the bulk of the armament on the ships were still able to train around and cover the other ships while missiles sat silent in their launchers. Alongside them flitted the smaller shapes of the fighters, the bombers racked off to one side on the flight decks while their Viper jock counterparts screeched in for angered landings. More than one would have a few choice words regarding this chain of events, assuming that they all got through this day.

The vice admiral could only speculate on their unresolved tensions for a few precious minutes before something else clamored for his attention. In this case it was the captain of the Pinnacle of Valor, who called to him from the aft plot table. "Sir, you'll want to see this ... we seem to have a problem," she clarified to the flag officer as he approached, giving a nod to the lieutenant manning the plot station.

A picture clicked onto the screen, evidently the result of another DRADIS scan of the system. Something looked out of place though, different in a manner that caused his eyes to narrow. "Someone's in a hurry. What do we know about this formation?" he asked, tapping a finger meaningly on a cluster of contacts. The lieutenant in return handed him a clipboard with the still-not-translated message that had been broadcast on the system-wide frequency. Except now there were some new numbers and combinations on it, showing a direction and bearing from where it had originated.

"The message came from this formation sir," the junior officer clarified hurriedly, gesturing to the same cluster of contacts that the vice admiral had been studying. "About ten to fifteen hard contacts, at least one a major capital ship. Electronic activity before they went quiet suggested increased communication chatter. We've just picked them up again - they seem to be using some sort of smaller drones to eletronically paint some of the ships engaged in combat near the planet."

Sir Hawke looked up at the lieutenant, handing him back the clipboard with the fluttering pieces of paper. "If they've gone quiet, they're going somewhere. I want to know where, and I need to know five minutes ago. Captain, have our drones near the planet repositioned. I want to get some good looks at those ships, in addition to the ones engaged in combat." He received a nod from the ship's commanding officer before retreating back to his seat. This day seemed to be getting more and more interesting by the minute.

"Sir, the Bautizaran vessels are turning away from the system."

"Very well. Adjust course vector to ensure an RV."

"Aye sir."

"What can you tell me about this new bunch, Creideiki?"

"Their language bears some similarities to ours, and we've been able to cobble together a working translation. Basically they're announcing that some 'Emerald Cult' are here, are extremely dangerous, and that they have come to assist anyone fighting them."

"Old enemies fighting on a new battle-ground then."

"Aye sir. Interestingly, spectroscopic readings have allowed us to preliminarily identify this 'Emerald Cult', in that one fleet is entirely green. They are the ones responsible for the matter-antimatter annihilations earlier, we think."

"We stay well out of that one, Commander. Stick to assisting Bautizar. That's a point; send a fighter to them, taking the details of one of our battle-grade codes. We never did set up LFW codes, and I want to be able to talk to them without telling the whole system."

"Sir."

A few minutes passed, then a fighter left the Hayfield, headed at full pelt towards the Bautizaran fleet. As the Incognitians were still closing on them, it would now take only a few minutes.

The Undershi Task Force waited, hanging in the void in the middle of the vast blackness of open space. They were far from their target, about ten lightyears distant. Still, they waited and prepared for the operation that was to come.
The construction ships they had brought along began to deploy, onboard factories building the components of a starbase in the middle of the void. It was a difficult, expensive, task to build such a base in the middle of the emptiness of interstellar space... but they did. It would be their staging area, a base from which they would be able to repair and refit ships, and on which they could deploy a very expensive secret project in relative safety.
Undershi FTL communications were very limited. Effectively, they had to rely on little drones equipped with Jump drives to carry their messages. That was... they had had to rely on Jump drive equipped drones to carry their messages. Until recently, when they had come into the possession of an FTL communications device built by Terror Incognitia. Now they had begun to research and design their own version of that device, with no real help from their allies. They had a total of three prototypes, one of which was emplaced in orbit of their world, onboard the space station Aleksander Miller, while another was safely switched off and stored in a deep bunker beneath the surface of their world... and the third... the third was located onboard one of the construction ships, which was now deploying it as a part of the massive starbase they were constructing.
When the starbase was complete, they would be able to communicate with their homeworld fairly easily... and the device would be safer than if it had been at the forefront of what would possibly become a battle. The elements of the Task Force that would be sent into the system would need to rely on Jump drive equipped drones to get their messages through, sure... but they had managed with drones for a long time - they could continue to use them for another few months, until their FTL communication devices would be truly ready to enter full-scale produciton.
The Task Force waited.
Supply ships made the Jump from the Undershi system every few hours, bringing new raw materials for the construction ships. Soon their base would be ready. Soon they would be prepared.
The Task Force waited.

Vice Admiral Hermann Chan disliked waiting. As the hours wore on, his patience began to wear thin. Finally, his annoyance won out, and he gave an order:
The Beowulf would go forward with only one destroyer, the Defiant, as an escort. A massively over-gunned scouting mission... but one which he felt essential. The remainder of the fleet would remain behind at the starbase. For now.

OOC: I know I have a lot of ships ready, but they won't actually deploy, most likely. You see, this will be the first out-of-system deployment of the Undershis in centuries, so they want to do it right. Most of the ships will either remain at the starbase to protect it (at least half of the fleet) or return to the Undershi system, unless something goes wrong for either the fleet in the system or the fleet at the starbase.

The Avenger had smoothly slid out of her hiding place in the gas giant's atmosphere and moved into the shadow of a crater on a asteroid that had an orbit that would bring her close enough to Sarannia to swoop down and collect a local with her transporter for questioning.

OOC: Lol, short, sweet, and right down to the point. I'll have her arrive at the planet itself and do the 'alien abduction' thing in my next post, at least I'll try to.

The Kraeton Gestalt: Great Red Dragon

"And there appeared another wonder in heaven; and behold a great red dragon, having seven heads and ten horns, and seven crowns upon his heads. And his tail drew the third part of the stars of heaven, and did cast them to the earth"

They struck

Hundreds of Asesinos stormed past mines, some dying from the blast while other shook off the pain and swarmed with their deadly focus. The Asesinos were nearing the frontlines despite being dropped like flies due to the machine gun fire.

The skies screeched as the men stared up. A massive cloud of shrieks and scythes neared the men. Volucari, the winged demons, began swooping down, raining a barrrage of hellfire plasma cannons at the men. Asesinos climbed upon the dead carcasses of their fallen bretheren to breach the frontlines and begin the slaughter. Men tried in vain to keep them back, only to be ripped to shreds by the dense teeth and scythes of the Kraeton army.

A squad of men tried to hold them off, firing a massive gatling cannon at the living tide.

"Sir...I...I don't know how long we can hold up!!! They're...they're breaking through!!" a private yelled to LT Chuck. Chuck turned behind him to get more men/ They were gone.

"What the hell!?!" He left the private to gather more troops.

"Sir!! Sir, don't leave me!! SIR!!" He left the turrent, stepping in something warm. It was human flesh. He looked up and saw small ripples in the air as ghostly tendrils tore into his flesh, tearing him in half and throwing him into the voracious flood of Kraetons, each one devouring him and adding his biomass to the swarm. Lt turned and saw the Sicari, now making itself visible. It started at Chuck and smiled a hiddeous smile as it rushed towards him, lunging the tentacles toward Chuck.

From the plains the Kraeton Cacuscudo Gestation Magen arose from the ground, the size of a massive 5 story building. Around it eight spires grew, breaking the ground and spreading Kraeton biomass around it as Aphyxiation Spires grew from the ground. Miasma began to permiate from them to choke the very atmosphere. It would take weeks for the country to suffocate under the Kraetonous Miasma but it would be worth it.

=()= Intelligence Section, Her Majesty's Naval Ship Pinnacle of Valor, Outer System =()=

The ship continued to remain at battle-stations footing, although at a glance it wouldn't have been recognizeable to the casual visitor to the intelligence section. It was known as the "quiet room" in shorthand lingo by those not privileged enough to be granted access clearance, or simply as "the box" to others. And right now, apart for the red lights rotating in the ceiling overhead in unending patterns, it would have been unknown that the flagship of Force H remained at general quarters.

Focus very much remained on the UCN vessels that were opposing them, with countless passive and active sensors sizing them up for later analysis. It was true for much of the Commonwealth formation: ships were scanning and checking out those that they might be soon firing upon, gauging them for weaknesses and flaws that could be exploited. Their primary weapons systems with their massive power signatures had already been noted, much to the consternation of the vice admiral and his staff. A closer scrutiny was out of the question, of course: moving even closer to allow such pinpoint and detailed resolution on the sensors was the equivalent of throwing a brick through a plate-glass window.

It would make noise, and right now noise was not what Force H needed. Despite the fact that it was polluting the outer system with unending barrages of electronic activity. It was like lighting up the area with a full-scale electronic bubble that anyone could see. There were other zones of electronic activity on Commonwealth frequencies though, and not all of them were decidedly literal in broadcasting their presence. Such was the case of the unmanned and cloaked reconnaissance drones that were still working their magic in Sarannia orbit.

They had been on station for slightly under an hour by now, still split into their varying elements while their A.I. systems continued to watch, catalog, and observe. Such a bedazzling display of weapons fire and ordinance from the UCN and Emerald Cult vessels was more than any of them could hope for. Damage-control systems coming online were dutifully recorded. Turning rates of fighters and acceleration abilities were scrutinized and packeted away in the sensor logs. Even the yield of each weapons hit was being recorded for later study by the top minds at the Admiralty. All of this took place from a safe-enough distance well outside the zone of combat.

Element two, as the intelligence technicians had dubbed the group that had headed for Sarannia, had snuck into a low orbit and was now just kissing the atmosphere. Spread out around the planet, they were passively looking at the ground as well, recording the mountain ranges and trees, the waterfalls, rocks, buildings, anything that could be used to make a future determination about this system or reach a better understanding regarding the motivations of the UCN and its forces here. It was one of them that caught sight of the Kraeton Cacuscudo Gestation Magen rising from the ground, and promptly swiveled its cameras onto the sight. They instantaneously flew into a busying display of action, sizing up and watching its movements, along with the host of creatures that were swarming the defensive perimeter. It didn't take long before another drone had joined the first.

Despite what they saw being waged around and below them, all twelve reconnaissance drones remained conspicuously silent. Their mission was to quietly observe and record, not to tip off a potentially-hostile species as to the technical limitations of Commonwealth technology. And so they continued to document and catalog for those who would review their records. Even as another squadron of their fellow comrades catapulted from the port side of the Pinnacle of Valor, positioned away from the trailing UCN fleet, cloaked themselves, and jumped away.

"Have the Bautizarans recieved those codes yet?"
"The courier is approaching them now, sir."
###
To avoid software incompatibility, the details of the code were given mathematically, on hard copy. It would then be possible (it was hoped) to encode it in a Commonwealth comm station, permitting the two commanders to communicate reasonably freely. Incognitian techs had managed a similar procedure in a mere ten minutes, but that was with practice. Twenty was expected for a first time.
###
"If we're going to properly support them here, we need to have some idea of their objectives."
"Indeed sir."
"What's our assessment of the system CorFor?" (Correlation of Forces)
"In the belt we have ourselves, Bautizar, and one local fleet. Further in are New Oxford, self announced; the Emerald Cult, presumed; another local fleet; and a bunch claiming the system...in Latin of all things.
As far as we can tell New Oxford is solely against the Cultists; the Latins are against everyone, wanting the system themselves; the locals presumably want all intruders out and the chaos to end. Bautizar's aims are unclear.
On the planetary surface is all kinds of activity we aren't looking at too closely; we have no real idea what's going on down there, but there's nothing that can threaten us here."
"Until Bautizar can set up encrypted comms, send a tightbeam to their nearest sizeable vessel. Ask to be patched through to their commander, and tell him we'll back him to the hilt, we just need to know his intentions."
"Aye sir. I'll put a tech-team on it right away."

=()= Her Majesty's Naval Ship Pinnacle of Valor, Outer System =()=

"Admiral, we have an incoming shuttlecraft on the starboard bow," the ship's A.I. system reported, flashing to life with a representative figure atop the pedestal to the flag officer's left. Sir Hawke immediately looked at the speaker, the transparent figure with its purple lines flickering while it stared back at him. "Identification codes confirm: Incognita fighter on approach, requesting permission for priority landing."

The vice admiral turned to his right, giving the captain a nod which led her to glance over at the operations station. "Drop shields on the port hangar deck. Priority clearance for landing granted." The lieutenant in charge of the three panels at that station nodded and lifted a hand to his headset, speaking quickly to some unknown listener on the other end. A moment later he gave a nod and leaned over one of the consoles, examining something as a small grey shape flitted around in front of the bow. Sir Hawke barely had sight of it for a moment before the craft had vanished out of his view.

"Sir, incoming transmission," communications reported from aft of both Sir Hawke and the captain. He looked over his shoulder, examining the officer who'd made the report in a peripheral fashion while the battlecruiser's senior officer turned physically in her chair. "It's being passed along from the Ardent. Incognita officer requesting to speak to the vice admiral immediately, sirs." In response the vice admiral tapped the side of his headset: a piece slid out from the side, wrapping around in front of his eyes yet underneath the brim of his uniform cap before stopping and locking in position. Surprisingly, nothing crackled to life to his front, making his brows furrow as the sound of static on an open connection was piped into his ear.

"This is Vice Admiral Sir James Hawke, commanding officer of the 112th Reconnaissance Group of Her Majesty's Navy," the commanding officer of the Commonwealth forces stated, introducing himself formally. A momentary wish for more information on the allies of Her Majesty's Government crossed his mind, but he banished it quickly as the individual on the other end began to speak. There was an odd tone to their voice, not dissimilar from a person with one of the ancient head colds. "Commander Creideiki, aide to Commodore Allen of the Incognitia Ship Hayfield. What is your government's position in regards to the events here?"

Short, sweet and to the point a little voice said in the flag officer's head. It carried a faint tone of approval in it as he noted that the words had ended. "Her Majesty's Government has sent us in to examine the situation here. If we deem the settlers and indigenous population here to be a threat to the Commonwealth or its citizens, we're under orders to initiate action to neutralize their threat. Thus far we haven't made a determination, but they're taxing our patience. We will be stopping our withdrawal soon in the interest of being able to monitor events further."

"Understood," came the reply. "We will be supporting you in whatever action you undertake." With that, the communication terminated and the voice disappeared. Less than a second later the ship's A.I. system flickered again atop her pedestal. "Sir, two jump signatures directly ahead, close range ..... incoming transmission ....."

She cracked a slight grin, a more upbeat tone entering her voice. To the layman it would have been an occasion for a head turning in disbelief, a computer displaying such evident emotions being unheard of in the civilian sectors. "The Cardinal of War and Vigilant Sentinel signal the compliments of Force C. Both cruiser/carriers are at general quarters and requesting instructions." Eyes immediately snapped out to the front as the vice admiral rose from his chair and moved more forward, but it was only when he could see the trademark red glow of the refit vessels' dorsal sensor and communication array that he banged a fist on the rail in triumph.

http://i141.photobucket.com/albums/r67/S_Baxter2064/CVGA4angleshot5.jpg

It was a most uncharacteristic move from the stiff-as-a-rail officer that startled many on the bridge, even as his more proud and crackling voice whipped across the compartment. "Communications, order them to join the formation, and instruct all ships to come about and execute full stop. We're not budging any more from the system." He settled himself back into his chair as the view of the stars out the front of the bridge began to change, the light cruiser off ahead of them angling about with the rest of the formation. Not many heard the flag officer's low mutter that came after the more emboldened remarks. "The Guild didn't start mining here to be chased out, did they captain?"

"No sir," she replied, examining a computer screen at her fingertips. "Weapons grid maintain full power. Shields to maximum, stand by auxiliary power. Helm, execute full stop. Fighter control, stand by to commence launch of all squadrons."

A communications officer had taken over at this point.

"Acknowledged, we're feeding transponder data into our systems now. Now transmitting most recent transponder codes for New Oxford ships."

On the tactical display, a number of the grey 'unknown' ships blipped to green 'allied', most of them in the inner system.

Parrian looked at the three large red 'hostile' contacts spitting out smaller 'hostile' fighter contacts and tapped each of them, surrounding them with larger circles.

"All Einstein class vessels open fire on Hostile Emerald Cult Carriers."

He ran a finger along a line between his ship and the carriers.

"Formations Alpha and Bravo form up in wall formation. Fire at will on all hostile contacts."

---
The Carriers were seemingly too far from the battlefield to be hit. Unfortunately, their smug satisfaction in their own safety would soon be extinguished as the first of the relativistic projectiles impacted.

The enormous kinetic energy of the 500kg round almost sundered the already crippled carrier, rendering almost a third of the docking bays and their cargo totally unusable, as life support was cut off.

Another 500kg round severed that section entirely, dead cultists, hardware and all. There was little opportunity for an explosion as combustibles were rapidly robbed of any oxygen and the one reactor in the area was shattered into a thousand pieces by the impact.

The two others sliced past their marks, carrying unwary fighters and sensor booms with them.

"It is the Heretics! The ones who dare to oppose the Emerald One directly! Destroy them!"

Fighters were spat out from the carriers and flew in lazy arcs towards the New Oxford ships.

A group of Asfaltum ships entered the TAU system, a green aura quickly dissipating from their hulls.
The group consisted of:

1 Explorer-class Warship (http://www.ex-astris-scientia.org/scans/other/warbird.jpg)
2 Raven-class Warships (http://www.ex-astris-scientia.org/schematics/valdore-screen.jpg)
1 Interceptor-class Battleship (http://www.ex-astris-scientia.org/scans/stmagazine/raptor-angled.jpg)
1 Scorpion-class Battleship (http://www.ex-astris-scientia.org/scans/stmagazine/early-bop1.jpg)
2 Eccentric-class Cruisers (http://www.ex-astris-scientia.org/scans/factfiles/relativity.jpg)
3 Wrath-class Cruisers (http://www.ex-astris-scientia.org/scans/factfiles/ramuran-cgi.jpg)
2 Light-class Carriers (http://www.ex-astris-scientia.org/scans/factfiles/karemma-freighter.jpg)
1 Supernova-class Battlestar (http://www.thespacesite.com/gallery/display/179.jpg)

All in all, 13 ships.

A message was sent to the Bautizar fleet:
Greetings!
This is Alpha Squadron reporting for duty. As you may have noticed, this squadron does not consist of the traditional Asfaltum warships. These are simply prototypes for new ships that are being developed for export purpose. We have been on a test-run for 5 months, and had just re-supplied when we got orders from HQ to come out here and give you a hand. From what we have heard so far, some alien fleets have shown up in your backyard, started landing troops, and are disrupting your trade-routs. We will aid you in any way possible, and are glad to find that Terror Incognitia has decided to do likewise. Is there anything else we ought to know?

OOC: Hey Baut, you think you could give me a short overview on how many allie/enemy/neutral ships are in the system? I would have read through the whole thread, but schoolwork is killing me...

__

OOC: Bautizar, nice RP of the interaction there. Only one problem; Creideiki is a highly advanced dolphin. One of the main parts of my nation's back-story is the fact that before contact with other nations Incognitia Uplifted dolphins to intelligence. They make damn good pilots ;)

IC: "That was..quite satisfactory. They want to secure vital trade routes and resources which are threatened by the presence of a colony here."
"In which case they must either remove the locals from the system, or deal with them. And at the moment forcible removal looks more likely than a deal."
"Yes sir. Speculating for a moment..."
"As you do best, Creideiki, go ahead."
"Well sir, is there any mileage in fast and dirty negotiations with the locals? Along with our allies we help clear the system of Cultists and these Romans, and any other threats we haven't yet picked up on. In return, Bautizar gets to mine the asteroids here; and the locals don't expand to any more systems in this sector or keep too heavy a fleet presence here."
"Interesting; the locals get to build their colony in peace, Bautizar gets to trade through here and keep asteroid-mining, we only have to fight the other intruders. I like it. Now will they go for it?"
"Main problem, I guess Vice Admiral Hawke won't have authority to make such a deal."
"In which case ask them, now. Before anything kicks off and it's too late to deal."

To: Vice Admiral Hawke, c/o Ardent
From: Commodore Allen
We have a plan with the potential to defuse tension between yourselves and the locals, leaving both of us fighting only these Roman and Cultist intruders. Do you have authority to negotiate a deal for your government, even informally? Obviously this is of the greatest urgency before shots are fired between our side and the locals.

=()= Pinnacle of Valor, Outer System =()=

"Sir, new incoming transmission," the A.I. announced from her pedestal. Her hands were on her hips now as she regarded the flag officer and captain. "Intergalatic Armed Republic of Asfaltum squadron has arrived in system. 13 ships, according to their message all new prototypes." It caused a glance between the two senior officers in their chairs; prototypes and experimental vessels did not belong on the front lines of combat.

Sir Hawke next looked back at the waiting computer system, but not before his eyes glanced up at the DRADIS display. It was looking more cluttered now with ships, indicative of the interesting situation that was developing in this system. "Acknowledge their signal. Inform them that the situation seems to be well in hand; they might want to consider falling back to the construction site in Tau-25, or reinforcing the Incognitia squadron. It -"

Movement at his right caused his head to snap around, seeing a crewman running onto the bridge. The man surrendered a small grey disk to the lieutenant at the communications station, who gave it a cursory glance before hurrying over to the captain. "Sirs, just received this from the Incognitia squadron. According to the pilot it has battle codes to secure our frequencies to them."

"Input it immediately, and send hard copies of it to all ships in the formation. No transmitting them over open airwaves" the vice admiral warned in an ominous tone. The lieutenant nodded quickly before hurrying away to his station, a finger tapping on the device as someone pulled the imposing metal plate off the lower side of the console and set it aside. Sir Hawke could see an engineering kit being pulled out from a storage locker as an enlisted crewman in that department's uniform arrived to take charge of the situation.

"Sir?" the A.I. prompted, causing him to realize that he'd temporarily forgotten about the message. "Hmm? ... Oh, right. Inform them that there are several fleets in system: two of the United Commonwealth, including the one that's near us, and one of a fleet allied to them. Two others with intentions unknown, but apparently intending to seize control of the system for themselves." With a nod the system silenced its own display, vanishing no doubt to assist the already-overwhelmed communications section.

Operations spoke up from nearby, projecting her tone slightly more than necessary. "Cardinal of War and Vigilant Sentinel joining the formation sirs. Standing by to commence fighter launch."

The A.I. system flickered to life immediately after this, hands still on her hips as she distracted the vice admiral from his attention on the forward windows of the bridge. "New message from the Incognita fleet. They're requesting to know your negotiating authority." As she said this the side visual panel was sliding around from the vice admiral's headset. The text snapped to life as it completed its movement, leaving him to think for a moment before carefully responding.

"Inform them that as senior representative for Her Majesty's Government, I am authorized to negotiate temporarily on behalf of the Commonwealth. The ultimate decision rests with the cabinet and prime minister. Yet advise them that the only way that Her Majesty's Government is going to negotiate a permanent agreement with the local forces is after a substantial withdrawal of their military forces from the system and back to their home territories."

OOC: I had this as an idea for this. You can RP as Chuck. I figure this could be a Predator-ish scenerio. I hope Im not taking too many liberties with your men here. I think after this post Ill just RP as my men.

Bodies covered the floor as the stampede of Kraetons flooded through the barren instillation. Turrents and mines and soldiers has all been torn apart and soon only a brave squad was left to fight off the impending swarm in vain.

Chuck had been manning the gatling gun while the other members acted as snipers. Mostly heads shots were enough to kill the beasts as they regenerate certain wounds. Also tearing through them with the gatling gun worked as well. Sadly, for every Asesino they killed, ten more took its place.

The Ballistas continues their bioartillery strike on the instillation. One such plasma bolt struck the squad, sending them flying for some meters. One of the men had been melted on the spot. The others stood and gathered around Chuck, ready to fight off the Kraetons.

"Look above," yelled one of the squad members. A shuttle came towards them, ready to pick them up. The shuttle dropped a rope to allow Chuck and his squad to climb up and escape. As they climbed, however, the Sicari that had led the army leaped at the last man on the rope, tearing his lower body off of the rope and leaving only the torso hanging on. Chuck yelled as tears flowed down his face. The body fell from the rope and into the sea of monsters, all dissecting him and devouring him. The last thing Chuck saw of him was the cold horrifying stare.

The shuttle was leaving for New Sarannia over a thicket of woodlands. Chuck was relieved that they had left the swarm, but still saw the gruesome images of his men being slaughtered mercilessly.

"Sir, we are picking up something on the scanners," one of the pilots said. "It's massive! I'm not sure what..."

The shuttle shook violently. From the windows Chuck looked out. There he saw it.

The Kraetons was massive, 30 feet long with huge wings and two colossal mouths. It stared at him with its four eyes before roaring. Its smaller mouth opened up and began lighting.

"Everyone, prepare for impact!" The plasma bolt hit the shuttle at pointblank. The shuttle divebombed towards the woods in flames. Many aboard had died from the blast but Chuck and a few men had lived. He looked out of the hole in the shuttle and turned to his men. "We need to jump out now!!"

He and his men jumped from the falling shuttle, crashing hard onto the woodland floor. Chuck opened his eyes and saw that besides him there were two survivors. As he turned, he noticed the third survivor of the crash. Chuck shook his head. The man had fallen on a thick protruding log, piercing through his chest. Chuck went up to his face and closed the soldier's eyes. He stood up and said to his men, "We need to get to New Sarannia and warn them of the attack. Come on men. Lets go..." a familiar roar resonated through the canopy.

"Dammit," he said. It was the ghost demon.

It was the Sicari.

=()= Pinnacle of Valor, Outer System =()=

It had continued to whir and talk to itself softly, ignored and forgotten about by the vast majority of the crew on board. There were a multitude of artificial intelligence systems present aboard the flagship, most of them isolated to work in specific areas or departments of interest. Only a handful were directly concerned with intelligence affairs, and it was one of them, named "Westerby" by some long-forgotten programmer, that had remained busy with the task of translation.

His results announced themselves rather quietly, in retrospect. The sending of messages and data between A.I. systems wasn't an uncommon practice, for they were so integrated into the ship and its systems that they created something akin to a second community on board. From his post in the intelligence section, the pair of translations were quietly forwarded with a code white status (denoting their time-critical information) to the ship, simply called Ship. The personality of the battlecruiser's main computer, who was really a gender-neutral system in contrast to most of its smaller cousins aboard, passed the message along to the command A.I. on the bridge. Total elapsed time from sending to receipt 0.26 seconds.

"Sir, got something here you need to know about" the A.I. remarked from the vice admiral's left. Slightly irritated by the computer's tendency to announce itself and then not continue with the information flow as needed, he ignored it and continued to quietly confer with the captain. "Right now sir."

Thoroughly annoyed and vexed, the vice admiral was turning to confront the system when the visor slide around from its place in his headset. The captain's repeated the action, both of them flaring with momentary light as the voice of the A.I. computer piped in through their headsets. "Intelligence finally made a translation of the messages from the unknown fleet. This is the one that was received by the Guild of Miners vessels ..."

Unknown vessels, please identify immediately. This area is under Roman military authority. Please identify and depart the system. If you do not comply, we will open fire. We have you flanked and will not hesitate to use force.

The vice admiral remained still and unmoving as he scanned the text again, a noticeable chill running through his body. Then his eyebrows furrowed as his finger began tapping on the armrest of his command chair. To his right he heard a muttered "bastards" from the captain. He gave her a nod in reply, glancing over through the transparent display of the words as the A.I. spoke up again. "And this is the second message that was sent."

This area is under Roman military authority, by order of the Praetorium. All unknown vessels are ordered to depart the system. Any hostile act or failure to comply will be seen as a declaration of war, and will be answered with the full wrath of the Republic. You have three hours to depart the system or lay down arms, before we destroy any who have not complied.

Silence greeted the text, before the vice admiral's eyes focused on the vessel's commanding officer. "Captain, we seem to suddenly have a far larger problem than a group of colonists and settlers. I want copies of this passed to the Incognitia and Asfaltum formations immediately. Signal the Cardinal of War and Vigiliant Sentinel to commence fighter and bomber launches." Next he tapped on a control at his fingertips, the shrill whistling tone over the bridge demanding instantaneous silence as he spoke loudly. Personnel listened intently, arrested from their duties by Sir Hawke's indignant and outraged tone as they carried forth over an open communication frequency.

"Attention Roman vessels, this is Her Majesty's Naval Ship Pinnacle of Valor, of Her Majesty's Commonwealth Government of Bautizar. I have been authorized to inform you by my government that the withdrawal demanded in your transmission not will take place from this system, and any use of force with deadly intentions against citizens of Her Majesty's Government will be retaliated against. You have five minutes to execute a withdrawal from this system. Should any of your ships initiate action consistent with hostile intent, we will be forced to initiate action consistent with the safeguarding of this task force and all personnel aboard."

"Answer from Hawke. He can negotiate, subject to political approval afterwards."

"Good enough; more than I expected. In which case, message the locals. Just a one-off, take it or leave it deal will serve."

This message was soon tight-beamed to the contingent facing off against Admiral Hawke's ships, and copied to the Admiral.
To: Delesan Commander
From: Commodore Allen, TIS Hayfield
We have a deal to offer you, which will benefit both sides. We help you remove all enemies from this system; the Cultists, the Latin-speakers, and any others. In return you commit to negotiating with the Commonwealth of Bautizar afterwards over access to asteroids and other resources, and your military presence here.
We won't insult your intelligence by emphasising that a failure to negotiate in good faith will carry consequences.
This is our offer; take it or leave it.

"And now we sit, and wait to find out how desperate they are. And if they say yes, we will have a test of their honour."
"Quite, sir. I'm not looking forward to the tension as we destroy the last Cultists and look over our shoulders at this lot, but we'll be prepared for that, and better that than have to fight this lot and all the rest at the same time."
"I hope they agree."

"Sir, you might want to see this."
Allen looked over, and saw that the Bautizarans had not, as he had assumed, been able to translate the Roman message. At least, not until now.
"All the more reason to do a deal with the Delesans, don't you think Creideiki?"
"Yes sir."
Dolphins, even neo-fins, can't really smile more than they are already, but Creideiki was trying. Though you couldn't help but think it was a somewhat predatory grin...
"For now, however, make sure anything else we've gleaned gets passed on to Admiral Hawke's people. We've known what this message said for some time; we don't know what else we've picked up and they haven't, and we must remember we're supporting them here, not acting independently."
"At once sir."
Creideiki was immediately on his comm to the relevant subordinates in Sensors and Intelligence, sorting things out.
(OOC: In other words I'll pass on anything important specifically, but assume that you know anything I've posted I know. We'll have different sensor capabilities etc, after all.)

Onboard the UNCS. Victory

Admiral Eoin Spear was in his quarters, reviewing his orders from Fleet Command. The Captain of the Victory was handling the battle that took on outside the hulls of the ship. The ship's A.I appeared on the screen.

"Sir, we have a transmisson from one of the fleets in the system. A newer one. Its from the Incognitia."

"Send it to me." The message appeared on the screen beside the A.I. Eoin scratched his chin. Then picked up his mug, and took a sip of the coffee, not once looking away from the screen. "Interesting, it seems real enough. I'll send a reply, thank you, report back to the bridge."

"Aye aye sir, see you up top." With that the A.I flashed from the screen. The Admiral began on his video message.

"I am Admiral Spear of the United Commonwealth Navy, from the planet New Haven, commanding officer of the forces in the Sarannia Sector, onboard the UNCS. Victory. Commodore Allen I find you offer to be quite... acceptable, and must know what your intentions in this sector are. These talks may resume in person after other forces have been removed. Until then Commodore." The Admiral ended with a crisp salute.

"Sir, we have a reply from the, as I now see we should call them, United Commonwealth, courtesy of Admiral Spear."
"Saying?"
"Our offer seems 'acceptable', but he asks our intentions and says further discussion will wait on certain forces being removed from the system.
I assume this refers to the Asfaltum Navy vessels. A consideration might be that the UCN are established here, in greater force than Alpha Squadron."
Commodore Allen pondered for a little. He inspected the tactical displays of the nearby system. He then turned back to Creideiki.

"Tell Admiral Spear these three things. One, we are here only to help Bautizar. Two, Bautizar is here because they have been peacably mining in this system and have interests in this sector. Three, that Asfaltum is only here as our ally, and we are sure if the threat against us is lessened we are sure they can be persuaded to withdraw."
"So we deal, sir?"
"Yes, we deal. The best battles won are those you don't have to fight at all, and if we can get what Bautizar wants without fighting the UCN, so much the better."

We have no interests in this sector; only to assist our ally the Bautizaran Commonwealth. It is good that my offer seemed acceptable; but do you actually accept? On your reply to that waits our assistance in clearing this system of all military vessels except those involved in this deal.

Onboard the UNCS. Victory

"Admiral, a reply from the Incognitia."

"On screen." Spear quickly reviewed the message. "All right, contact Charlie Fleet (003), watching the Bautizarian Fleet to stand down, and to intercept the Neo-Roman fleet. If they think they own this system, let's show them it's ours. Also contact the Incognitians, tell them that Charlie Fleet is standing down, and we expect them to enage any of the fleets fighting ours, Either the carriers or the Neo-Roman fleet."

"Aye aye sir."

"Success!"
"They accepted, I take it?"
"Yes sir. Admiral Spear says their fleet closest to us is standing down and redirecting to attack true enemies. He says he expects us now to fulfil our part of the deal by attacking either the Neo-Romans or the Cultists."
"Well done Creideiki, nice bit of lateral thinking there. Now, we need to prepare to move the squadron further in-system to engage opponents there. Commander Xu! You're up! Give me tac projections for attacking the Romans, then for attacking the Cultists.
Creideiki, get onto Admiral Hawke in the meantime, and make sure he's up to date."

Creideiki returned to his comm. "Admiral Hawke, we have a deal with the commander of UCN forces here. They are standing down their forces facing us and promising negotiations when the system is clear, in return for our aid against the Cultists and Romans."
Listening in to the conversation between the Commodore and Commander Xu, he added
"Our suggestion is the Romans, as the New Oxford fleet is here specifically to deal with the Cultists, and may depart when they are defeated."

The Captain aboard the Exploration-class Warship nodded. "They seem to have the situation under controll... send them a response message."

Acknowledged.
We will withdraw from here, and place ourselves by the TAU-25 construction-site. However, we would like to leave a carrier with the Incognitia forces for fighter support, if you don't mind...

=()= Hangar #32A, Her Majesty's Naval Ship Cardinal of War, Outer System =()=

"Ground crews man your stations. I repeat, ground crews man your stations." The voice of the ship's commanding officer had barely disappeared from overhead before bodies were scattering and running across the deck. Some of them dodged under the low-slung shapes of the fighters and bombers that were rumbling and shaking in position, doing a last-minute visual check to ensure nothing amiss. Others were scrambling up the ladder into the control booth for this section, vanishing inside as bodies ahead of them slammed into chairs and slid to their assigned stations. Shouts filled the air as rumbles turned to screeches, the deck plating shaking underfoot from the horsepower of all the engines present.

"All hands, all hands. Execute launch. I repeat, execute launch."

At first there was no obvious reaction, apart for the movement of the few bodies that ran to either side of the hangar, clearing the deck for the combat launch. Then it all changed, the lead four fighters in a line abreast engaging their afterburners with a tremendous blast of hot air and propellant. Sparks flew out behind them like Roman candles as their landing skids slid across the metal plating, flames flickering out behind them and singing the deck plating before they vanished back into the engine housings. Behind the moving shapes came more, group after group screeching into the stars and immediately banking away from the cruiser/carrier's hull.

More were appearing from the other ships in the formation, even the smallest light cruiser contributing its single squadron of fighters in a show of military might of Her Majesty's Navy. Soon it began to create a vast aerial armada of metal and artificial intelligence systems that began to clump up into squadrons. Squadrons became wings as more joined up, forming V-shaped formations that roared overhead of the leading battlecruisers.

The cruisers were racing along the perimeter as they moved into their own attack line, engines burning brightly as they cut hard through the amassed fighters and bombers, ignoring the smaller shapes that were winging down their sides. To their side were the twice-as-large figures of the battlecruisers, whose own fighters had long since catapulted into space. And behind them came the prowling figures of the Spirit of Fires and their two refit cousins, who were continuing to belch drones into space.

=()= Her Majesty's Naval Ship Pinnacle of Valor, Outer System =()=

"Admiral, fighter wings one through three are away. Four through seven and lead bomber elements launching now. Fighter wing seven will be held in reserve as directed," the ship's A.I. reported, relaying the countless reports that were coming in from throughout the task force. Communications were rapid-firing between vessels as the chatter escalated dramatically on local frequencies. It showed aboard the flagship with the raised voices and beeping panels on all sides. Occasionally a messenger stormed past the vice admiral and captain, heading to some unknown destination that they didn't bother to find out.

"Second transmission from the Asfaltum forces sir," the A.I. interrupted. "Signaling permission to station a carrier with the Incognita units."

"Acknowledge their signal," he brusquely replied, nearly dismissing the remark as his head swiveled to study a cruiser that was assuming a defensive position on the flagship. The man was far more alive and alert than at any point in the preceding hours of unending maneuvers and jockeying around the outer system. "Inform them permission granted. Fighter wings stand by to execute jump. Communications, any reply yet from the Romans?"

The officer glanced at the clock that was on one of her screens. It was displaying a line of straight zeroes. "No sir. Time has elapsed for them to withdraw."

"Clear for Action! Clear for Action!
Having been in a raised state of readiness for some time, the squadron was finally coming to full preparedness for combat.
The sixty 'fin pilots of the squadron (eight on each light cruiser, twelve on each heavy cruiser, twelve on Hayfield) had performed final checks of their craft. They would be launching in around thirty seconds; formed into flights by their mother-ship, they would be aiming to provide fighter superiority for the squadron.
"Fighters ready sir."
"Launch all fighters."
"Squadron, this is Hayfield, Squadron, this is Hayfield. Launch all fighters, say again launch all fighters. Out."
The Wave-class fighters swept out of their launch bays smoothly, on the power of their fusion engines. These also powered their main weapon, the bodyline-mounted plasma torch. Economically, with no waste of time or effort, the squadrons formed beneath their vessels. They then 'shook out' into a loose formation scattered amongst the larger vessels.
Meanwhile the light cruisers were ramping up their reactors to full power, in preparation for a burst of speed and a bit of fast manouevring.
"All vessels, standard protocols."
And just so, the squadron was set.

Sarannia, Planet Surface, Forests

Lt. Chuck was still trying to get over the fact that an entire company of Commonwealth marines, were destroyed in less then 15 minutes. And now, with his way out of there crashed, and another man lost by jumping for his life out of the crashing bird. And now something else was approaching, Chuck had lost his rifle somewhere between all the action, and was left with a single clip of pistol ammo.

"What do we do now?" asked Private First Class Jordan Maryland.

"I tolf you guys they were coming, but noooo don't listen to the NCO, no no the captain had to get some rest first. God damn it!" yelled Staff Sergeant Mike Yowls. He was a lucky man. Twice he had incountered the... beasts and gotten away. He was armed to the teeth. His helmet was missing, probaly discarded back at base on purpose.

"Well then what do you think we should do Sarge?" Chuck said as he stood, holding out his hand, gestureing that the sarge was to give up on of his firearms. Mike grumbled and handed him one of his assult rifles.

"First, I want that back when you done. Second, we have to find a radio, maybe head back to the camp, it would be closer then trying to make it to HQ or the next out post. Get a message out to command, and they can prepare." He took the shotgun off his back and checked to make sure it was loaded.

"Well that's a good idea. Yowls, why aren't you a officer?"

"I was a captain, but then I punched my major durring the the up rising put down of New Haven."

"Why the hell would you do that?"

"Cuz, that pig was trying to send my company into a death trap, but he didn't see it. So I gave him a good one. Told him he would get more when I got back. But then he threw me in the brig, and put my commpany under command of some nobody, straight out of UCNA (United Commonwealth Naval Academy). Turned out to be an ambush, and no one came out of that fu***** alive."

"Well, Sarge, I'll take your word for that and well start to head back to the out post."

It watched the humans talking to each other, biding its time before it would strike. They would be nearing a river soon but before they reached there, they would be dead.

It stared at Jordan. The others weren't paying attention as it stalked amongst the trees slowly towards Jordan, invisible to the naked eye. It hung upside down above him, tendrils slowly moving into a striking position above his body. This was the moment to strike.

The tendrils strike like lightning, wrapping around Jordan's body like a boa constrictor. The Sicari had a hold on him and began taking off, dragging Jordan with him.

The Asfaltum ships made a U-turn and headed towards the Tau-25 base. Meanwhile one Carrier, under the command of captain Falcon, joined the Incognitia forces. A message was sent to them:
Greetings!
This is captain Falcon of the Asfaltum Carrier. We are joining forces with you, and request information on enemy targets. We will be supporting you with fighter-craft, and anti-fightercraft weaponry if necessary. We are also capable of landing ground-troops, if this would be required of us.

In the meantime, the following fighter-craft were launched:
30 SF-Viper (http://www.thespacesite.com/gallery/display/211.jpg) (Squad picture) (http://www.thespacesite.com/gallery/display/203.jpg)
10 SF-11 Asfalt Ultrafighter (http://tn3-2.deviantart.com/fs11/300W/i/2006/187/5/e/Scyth_Fighter_Craft_by_Namelessblob.jpg)
8 P-47 Moth (http://www.armchairempire.com/images/Reviews/pc/star-wars-starfighter/star-wars-starfighter-pc-3.jpg)
8 SF-21 Vicious (http://www.gwiezdne-wojny.pl/grafika/2002/maj/starfighter.jpg)
5 P-10 Tornado (http://www.thespacesite.com/gallery/display/210.jpg)
50 V-2 Droid Fightercraft (http://media.popularmechanics.com/images/tb_lg_D2-2.jpg)

All in all, 121 fightercraft were now cirkling the carrier, awaiting the order to attack the opponents.

__

"Asfaltum have left us with a carrier. They've launched about 120 small craft, and said they'll support us."
"Request that they focus initially on gaining fighter superiority, then hit targets of opportunity. And make damn sure they've got our IFF codes and we've got theirs."
"Aye sir."
"Otherwise..they're not familiar with the Wave-class, and we've never seen their fighters before. Add that to Bautizar's as well, and our own men are going to get hurt."
"Agreed. Transmitting now."

Captain Falcon, the following are the IFF transponder codes for our fighters. Please ensure your pilots are informed.
<sixty individual numbers>
If we can please have the codes for your fighters we will hopefully prevent blue-on-blue here.

The Undershi super-battleship Beowulf exited its Jump as close to the system as it could. With it came the destroyer, the Defiant, only moments later. They were officially there to scout, and scout they would... although if the need came they would be ready to fight.
As the two ships exited from their Jump, their commander took a moment to gather his thoughts... and then, then he ordered a communication sent to the Terror Incognitia fleet, on open channel, slow-as-light, the best he could manage:
"Hello. We're here to help. Tell us what to do." as that message was sent, he examined the scanner results, and whispered a bitter curse - there were a lot of ships. Many, many ships... he wondered if they'd be fighting any of them soon... he hoped so. It had been too long since the Undershi had been feared. Best for their first encounter with other races to be marked with a quick, brutal and victorious struggle.

=()= Her Majesty's Naval Ship Pinnacle of Valor, Outskirts of the Tau-21 System =()=

The ship's A.I. system looked up at the vice admiral again from atop her podium, evidently busy with the numerous reports she was receiving from all over the ship and throughout the formation. "Sir, Incognita task force and Asfaltum carrier are ready to commence attack. Roman fleet remains on course for the planet."

I don't think so, the vice admiral thought momentarily to himself as his finger-rapping on the edge of the chair concluded abruptly. "Fighters and bombers, execute jump. Capital ships stand by. Let's see if we can't soften them up first." Out ahead of his flagship, there were a series of continuing white flashes as the 936 fighters and 432 bombers of the entire task force vanished into a jump. They left behind the Spirit of Fire cruiser/carriers, the Unity battlecruisers, and the Marathon light cruisers that were now beginning to transit through the formation of the UCN fleet that was realigning itself for the inner system.

It didn't take a rocket scientist to realize that the unmanned drone craft were materializing in and around the Roman fleet seconds after they had jumped away. Even before the last unit had arrived, the first to appear in close proximity to the battleships and cruisers were peeling off and accelerating to attack speeds. Lethal shapes of missiles and the brighter flashes of lasers began to slash out through the darkness, at first low in number, but then increasing remarkably quickly .....

"Okay, fightercraft to full speed."
The Incognitian fighters weren't equipped to reach hyperspace; a bizarre lack, since even some of their missiles were; they would have been replaced years ago had not their other systems so good.
They swept in at high speed, scanning for concentrations of enemy fighters to engage...

Acknowledged!
Your IFF codes have been transmitted to our fighters.
These are our codes: <60 individual numbers>

In the meanwhile, the Asfaltum carrier proceeded to launch more fighters and fighter-bombers. After a couple of minutes, the total number of fighter-craft that were now gently floating beside the carrier was 350:

100 SF-Viper (http://www.thespacesite.com/gallery/display/211.jpg) (Squad picture) (http://www.thespacesite.com/gallery/display/203.jpg)
50 SF-11 Asfalt Ultrafighter (http://tn3-2.deviantart.com/fs11/300W/i/2006/187/5/e/Scyth_Fighter_Craft_by_Namelessblob.jpg)
10 P-47 Moth (http://www.armchairempire.com/images/Reviews/pc/star-wars-starfighter/star-wars-starfighter-pc-3.jpg)
20 SF-21 Vicious (http://www.gwiezdne-wojny.pl/grafika/2002/maj/starfighter.jpg)
20 P-10 Tornado (http://www.thespacesite.com/gallery/display/210.jpg)
150 V-2 Droid Fightercraft (http://media.popularmechanics.com/images/tb_lg_D2-2.jpg)

Captain Falcon looked at the tactical hologram-display, which now showed more than a thousand Bautizar fighters attacking the "Romans". They obviously didn't need any help... He turned to the second in command: "John, I want 15 fighters to fly towards the cultists, combat-code 1-6. Order all other fighters to be on stand-by." "Aye, sir." John answered, understanding what his captain was planning. A squad of 15 fighters was chosen, and promptly switched into full throttle, leaving their carrier behind and flying past the Incognitia forces, before jumping to the Cultists location. Their orders were simple; provoke the enemy, retreat, draw them out, estimate their capabilities.

The squad of 15 SF-Vipers (http://www.thespacesite.com/gallery/display/203.jpg), code-named "Blue-boys", sped towards the enemy ships.

"This is Blue-boy leader to Blue-boy team. Do you read me?"
"Loud and clear, Blue-boy leader. What's on the menu today?"
"We're about to find out. You know the drill, we go in fast and hard, come out clean and smiling."
"Roger that Blue-boy leader..." the chatter trailed off as the fighters jumped, and reappeared closer to the enemy ships.

__
OOC: Bumping cultists, whoever is RPing them...

With their fighters in flight, all eyes were on the tactical screens. No-one, as a result, saw Creideiki setting up his headset to interface with an open, system-wide broadcast.
They just heard him say
"Roma delenda est. Imperium Romanum delenda est. Vos noliter cognire."
(roughly: Rome is destroyed, the Roman Empire is destroyed, you don't want to recognise this).
###
"What did you just say, Commander?" Commodore Allen wasn't happy. Not at all.
"Oh, I just punched up the language files sir, and thought I'd taunt these Romans a bit. They are somewhat behind the times after all. Marcus Aurelius has been dead some three thousand years."
"Who?"
"Have you not been following the recovery of the histories, sir? Turns out he was the inspiration for the famous statue of Consilar-General Sharples riding a dolphin in Bambinio Square."
"I've been running a combat squadron for several years, Commander. Turns out my time for private research is somewhat limited."
"Well in any case, the Roman Empire is dead, and the days of empire are dying; I felt this lot should be informed of that basic fact."
"I'll let it pass. Just check with me first, next time, Commander."
"Yes sir."
"Right! Eyes back on your screens. Weapons armed, we're in combat range in one minute on my mark....MARK! All crewmen, stand ready; do the Navy and our allies proud."

(OOC: *runs in holding a bowler hat to my head* Gah, sorry. If anyone's going to attack me, that would help.)

The cult vessels were faring reasonably well, though the crippled one could officially be considered mission-killed. Its bridge was destroyed and life support had failed, as the high power of the Gauss Cannons simply shattered the primitive fission reactors into radioactive dust.

On the other side, fighters were charging into the wall of laser fire, their flimsy forms being converted into vapour by virtue of their being vastly outclassed. However, the screens of deadly light were not perfect, as fighters smashed into the battleships and blew large scorch marks and detatched entire modules with their crude antimatter bombs.

"Sir, we're not seeing any fighters from the Romans, and the Waves aren't really equipped to fight capital ships.
Is this really the best use of our fighters?"
"It is probably ineffective. Any suggestions Creideiki?"
"Well, we could attack the Cultists? We know they're using fighter-craft, and ours should be able to dodge their antimatter blasts. We have no idea what other weaponry they have, but it shouldn't be much for what is essentially a manned missile."
"Indeed. Very well, order the fighters to redirect and hit the Cultist craft."
"Aye sir."
###

They turned, almost upon the proverbial, and long since non-existent, sixpence. Manoeverability was their main selling point after all.
They moved at full power towards the Cultists, aiming to intercept and shoot down some of the suicide fighters.
More than one of the pilots grinned, since this was their job, their calling, their life - attacking lumbering great ships wasn't what they signed up for, that was the bomber corps!
A broad, staggered 'X' of Wave fighters swept in towards the enemy.

(OOC: *runs in holding a bowler hat to my head* Gah, sorry. If anyone's going to attack me, that would help.)

The cult vessels were faring reasonably well, though the crippled one could officially be considered mission-killed. Its bridge was destroyed and life support had failed, as the high power of the Gauss Cannons simply shattered the primitive fission reactors into radioactive dust.

On the other side, fighters were charging into the wall of laser fire, their flimsy forms being converted into vapour by virtue of their being vastly outclassed. However, the screens of deadly light were not perfect, as fighters smashed into the battleships and blew large scorch marks and detatched entire modules with their crude antimatter bombs.

OOC: Sorry, but I don't really understand that post... Did you RP my forces being destroyed? If that is the case, I would like to add that my fighters are keeping out of range of any heavy weapons; they're simply circling the cultists at a safe distance, waiting for enemy fighters to engage them...

(OOC: No, it was just glossing for ongoing battle between N.O. ships and the cult. Damage was taken by the battleship wall. Sorry if I missed your post.)

"So, there are others who would oppose the might of the Emerald Cult. Divert three wings. We will show them their mistake."

Of course, this was all hot air, and their fighters were not a third of the power they were made out to be. But they didn't know that - after all, no Cult fighter has ever come back alive.

One wing of fighters broke off to meet the Incognitian fighters while the rest moved to strike at the Asfaltum fighters.

At close range they were seen to be equipped with medium-powered pulse lasers, and a matched pair of chemical atomic missiles (read: Mini-nuke). They were reasonably fast, but as a byproduct of their pitiful training and extreme emotions, they were almost entirely predictable.

OOC: How many fighters do two wings consist of?

The 15 Asfaltum SF-Vipers (http://www.thespacesite.com/gallery/display/203.jpg) saw the enemy fighters.

"We have incoming!"
"Roger that Blue-boy 5. Combat code 1-6, you know what that means..."
"Aye sir, it's Hammer time!"

The 15 fighters dispersed, made a U-turn, and reassembled a short distance away. They were now heading in the opposite direction, away from the enemy. This might not have seemed to be a very aggressive move, but it's intent was deadly. Combat code 1-6 was simple; draw the enemy fighters away from their fleet, and away from heavy weaponry. Then, make an "about-face", bring in the rest of the fighters, cut off their escape, and waste them.

(OOC: 48. They're still piss-poor though. As in: has a chance of missing a fighter on a runway.)

The fighters predictably chased the Asfaltum SF-Vipers making a withdrawl (who intended to loop round and crush them in a pincer maneuver, but they didn't know that), firing their lasers. They knew their missiles were useless except for opportunity fire, though some launched them anyway.

The Cult-Fighters had more or less split randomly into four groups their pursuit.

Group 1 (1d48=34) (http://invisiblecastle.com/find.py?id=844645)
Group 2 (1d14=8) (http://invisiblecastle.com/find.py?id=844647)
Group 3 (1d6=5) (http://invisiblecastle.com/find.py?id=844649)
Group 4 (1d1=1) (http://invisiblecastle.com/find.py?id=844651)

OOC: Well, you've got one gigantic group and a bunch of small ones.

"Rip-Lead, Rip-Lead, this is Rip-Two. Are these guys cunning as hell, or awful pilots, over?"
"Rip-Two, cut the chatter. Pod attack formation."
"Acknowledged Rip-Lead."
60 fighters seemed like over-kill for 24 Cultist craft.
Thus 40 waited for any further move from the Cult. The first twenty, call-signs Rip-Lead to Rip-Ten, and Curl-Lead to Curl-Ten, split. The Rips remained facing the Cultists, five Curls went arcing high above, and five Curls went down to come screaming up from below.
"Readiness check." "Two" "Three" "Four" "Five" "Six" "Seven" "Eight" "Nine" "Ten".
"Right, let's make an omelette boys."
The ten facing accelerated and began firing their pulse cannons. The high and low-fives levelled out. In a few moments they would turn in again, and come right through the Cultist formation.
This tactic was somewhat risky, as it put the two fives in the line of fire of the ten; however with practice, each group allowed for the other; and the enemy were faced with near-simultaneous attack from three directions.
Once engaged, the Waves would either escape the melee, turn back together and make another pass, or engage in a dog-fight. Or, as the 'fins preferred to call it, shark-fight. That was only if they got entangled or were slower than the enemy, however.

OOC. Don't really understand your links...

IC:

The 15 SF-Vipers easily dodged the enemy lasers and missiles. Firing at such a range was quite inneffective, the Asfaltum pilots were quite surprised they even tried...

"This is Blue-boy leader to Base, Blue-boy leader to Base, do you read me?"
"Loud and clear Blue-boy leader."
"We got 48 fighters on our tail, they seem to be a class-3 threat, no need for any massive counter-measures..."
"Roger that, we'll send minor back-up..."
"Roger that Base."

10 SF-Vipers (http://www.thespacesite.com/gallery/display/211.jpg) and 10 SF-11 Asfalt Ultrafighters (http://tn3-2.deviantart.com/fs11/300W/i/2006/187/5/e/Scyth_Fighter_Craft_by_Namelessblob.jpg)(Asfaltums best and newest fighter) jumped to aid their retreating comrades. Still outnumbered, the Asfaltum pilots relied on their advanced fighters and good training to do the job. Now reunited, the 35 fighters made a sharp turn and headed towards the enemy at collision course.

"Ultra leader to Blue-boy leader, do you read?"
"Yes... preferably detective novells..."
"Very funny Blue-boy... Ok, after contact, we split up and go to individual combat-mode... right?"
"Wouldn't have it any other way... "
"Ok, it's Ballistics time boys! Take em' out! Waste em'!"
"Whatever... as long as I get back in time for lunch.."

<Jump signatures detected, domine. Hold it - incoming, massive fighter force incoming!> The fleet tactical band exploded with chatter as the Bautizan forces were detected. The Phlegethon erupted with frantic activity as the fleet was brought up to full combat alert. Marcus, though not as seasoned in space as he was in surface warfare, kept his head clear and his face blank as he rapped out orders over the ship's comm channel.

<Marine centuries, full combat alert! Platoons, assemble at assigned launch pods for possible boarding action against those cruisers when they get here!> He rubbed his chin as the holoscreen displayed a transmission from one of the unidentified fleets. "Huh. Guess they're trying to be funny." He flicked the screen where Creideki's grammar had failed. "Imperium delendum, foreigner," he murmured, smirking.

The Phlegethon's gunnery AI's immediately began locking targets and fired a first wave of a hundred guided missiles at the incoming fighters, followed several seconds later by another, and then another, adding to the hailstorm of missiles being launched from the four other Vulcans. The Battlegroup's 270 Fury-class fighters dropped out of their escort positions and gunned their fusion drives to combat speed, closing with the Bautizan fighters as they jumped in and greeting them with rockets and autocannon fire. The flat black Roman battleships were illuminated fitfully by the flashes of missiles and spacecraft exploding.

"Systems, battle report," Marcus demanded out loud.

"Kinetic fields remain unbreached, domine," the Systech replied from her console. "Currently holding at 12% capacity. Energy discharge rate normal."

<Current calculated casualties are 132 hostile drones to 31 Furiae, domine> reported one of the AI's. <Flagship defense perimeters remain uncompromised>

<Saevitia, report status of the Pallas task group> The Trierarch cut in over the Plegethon's comm chatter.

<We've identified their command ship through filtering all the comm transmissions that have been flying around> Navarch Llewellianus said crisply. <We've marked critical targets and are ready to open fire on your command>

<Do it. Destroy that ship and as many others as you can. All Pallades are to discharge one full round, railcannons and missiles, and then tesseract out of there before the Delesiae can respond. We need your firepower here more. We're holding them but I don't want to take chances>

<Understood, domine> Marcus heard the Navarch start to give commands to Saevitia's Fire Control before Llewellianus cut the transmission. Marcus watched the battle rage in blips on the holoscreen. The mass of enemy fighter and bomber drones wouldn't be held for long, even against five Neo-Roman ships-of-the-line. The Fury wings were already mostly exhausted. Even though the much larger Roman fighters could account for several hostile craft each, the numbers were simply stacked too high against them. "Di magni, those cruisers might not even have to enter the fight..." he muttered, looking at the larger blips still hanging on the edge of the system.

<Alert. Alert. Enemy fighter craft threatening defensive perimeter. Enemy craft estimated to penetrate defensive perimeter within five minutes> In response to the AI's alert, the Vulcan's autocannons came online: autocannons capable of punching through a cruiser's hull plating at close range. When the enemy craft entered the KEA field's perimeter, they would be welcomed with a storm of fire.

<Hold fast, socii> The Trierarch's voice rang forcefully over the fleet band. <Acheron is in communication with NAR Tridentiger and Armiger, command dreadnoughts of Combat Battlegroups Chimera and Charybdis respectively. They are preparing for tesseract jump from Auriga Chi-Septem system. Acheron is transmitting tactical coordinates now. Cavalry will arrive within the hour> Whatever he said next was drowned out by whoops and battle cries over the comm. Marcus allowed his shoulders to relax a little with relief. "Deus ex fucking machina..."

(OOC: If anybody wants it, post battle there's a chunk of a carrier floating about with fighters intact.)

The sheer ferocity of the Incognitian firing phanlax all but annihilated the fighter wings, a lone puttering fighter surviving the onslaught by sheer luck. Even that didn't last long, a stray shot destabilising the engines, sending the ill-fated craft spiralling out of control blowing rather beautiful patterns of plasma before exploding in a plume of gas and particles of antimatter, which themselves quickly detonated against space dust and gas.

The fighters being descended upon in a fury of fire from all directions by the Asfaltum SF-Vipers and SF-11s were similarly cut to shreds, though a few survived to fire back for a few seconds before their ends were met at the hands of the superior fighters.

More wings were being deployed and the carriers were moving ominously closer to the battlefield, likely intending to bring their turrets to bear against the enemy fighters.

The irony of a carrier moving to protect its own fighters was lost on the cultists, though the same could not be said for their enemies.

OOC: Hmm, I guess enough IC time has passed for a rather rapid rogue asteroid to have passed from the gas giant to the M class planet (can't recall the name right now), ir I remember the map correctly.

IC: "We have reached the M class planet that seems to be the center of attention, Admiral," reported the conn.

"Good," said Admiral Black, "lets go to Phase II of the plan."

"Understood," responded Sarah, "scanning for any life forms suitable for collection."

OOC: Actual 'abduction' will be next post. Had to RP locating your guy(s) first, Del.

=()= Her Majesty's Naval Ship Pinnacle of Valor, Outskirts of the Tau-21 System =()=

"Drones remain heavily engaged sir," the lieutenant at flight control reported, glancing away from the several computer stations that were allocated to his department. "We're taking losses: 12 squadrons and rising. Damage to another three squadrons."

Fleet Admiral Sir Hawke nodded, still looking out through the stars that stretched away in front of the task force's flagship. Quite in contrast to the events that were unfolding in and amongst the Roman formation, there was little sign that Her Majesty's Navy had engaged in its first major fleet action of the post-Unification era. But everything was moving in an orderly manner.

His eyes turned away from the sight of one of the light cruisers off on the bow, the vessel holding in its customary defensive position while the task force continued to tick off the distance through the eight-light-year mark. At this rate it would take hours before the formation was within weapons range of the Roman formation.

But it wasn't their intention to enter the battle. Not just yet. For now, Her Majesty's Navy was content to demonstrate the power of their drone formations and the unmanned craft's autonomous programming while the heavy units remained outside the battle area. Or so they thought.

An alarm blared to Sir Hawke's right, causing the fleet admiral to turn and look in that direction in time with the captain. Simultaneously, the ship's A.I. system materialized to his left. "Sensors read multiple incoming hostile contacts, classification unknown. Perimeter under attack."

"Alert, all ships!" the fleet tactical officer barked into his headset, face paling while the fleet admiral's became grim. "Hostile contacts bearing 355.27. All ships turn as necessary to unmask weapons batteries!"

Throughout the formation there were signs of an explosion of activity, as missiles began to roar upwards and away from the ships before turning menacingly towards their attackers. Orange streaks marked the opening shots from the CMC guns, the heavy turrets swinging to track the ships that were moving quickly towards the defensive perimeter. From the silhouette of the Standing Ready came a prelude of what this battle was going to look like: an unending drumroll of fire from the secondary batteries that began to storm out into the night, whistling in on the Roman cruisers.

More secondary weapons joined the fray as missiles crisscrossed through the stars. The telltale rippling of Commonwealth shields being hit by incoming ordinance began to appear.

"The Romans have got fighters, sir! Don't know how we missed 'em!"
"How have the Waves fared against the Cultists?"
"Two damaged, we think by friendly fire. They're both returning for fast repair."
"Order the rest in; have them be wary of the carriers, but keep ripping the Cultists to shreds; led Bautizar deal with the Romans. Just keep an eye on the combat, if they look like losing send ours in as cover."
"Aye sir."
"Also, re-deploy the Cardigan, Clarendon and Woodstock. We've won the fighter battle, let's take out the carriers."
"Sir."

The three light cruisers named, accompanied as was customary by a destroyer each, turned from the Incognitian formation and accelerated off towards the Cultists.
Their - far larger - plasma weapons were charging; their missiles armed. All was, in fact, ready. They just had to trust the Waves to keep them fighter-free.

After having destroyed the enemy fighters, without suffering any losses (only 1 fighter returned home for repairs), the 34 fighters were joined by the rest of the Asfaltum fighters. The now 350 fighters moved to engage the enemy carriers. Their tactic was simple; Avoid getting too close to the carriers and their heavy weaponry. Instead, the fighters moved in a cirkle around the carriers and attacked them from behind. They avoided coming too close to the carriers, but released their missiles in time to pull out before reaching the heavy fire. The missiles themselves, were specially constructed for their purpose, with built-in shields and hyper-drive, making them more difficult to destroy. All missiles fired were aimed at the engines-section, which was meant to cripple the carriers, while their fighters got slaughtered...

=()= Her Majesty's Naval Ship Pinnacle of Valor, Outer System =()=

The drones continued to swirl and dart around and through the Roman formation. Missiles were flying to all sides, the steady fire from the capital ships replacing some of their attackers with floating debris. The firefight intensified as the bombers' payloads began to reach their target, the heavy antiship missiles detonating with brilliant flashes of light. Their lumbering shapes switched to onboard gun systems when the missiles were expended, roaring in for strafing runs on gun positions and other key systems.

In the outer system the Commonwealth task force was continuing to lumber towards the firefight, engine contrails burning brightly in the heavens. Fleet Admiral Sir Hawke watched from his command chair aboard the flagship as the formation maintained its course and speed, well conscious of the raging battle that was occurring somewhere ahead of him. To his side was the vacant seat of the captain, who was at the moment quietly conferring with the tactical officer to his rear. The urge to order a jump into the battle zone was growing in his mind, but it was restrained with difficulty.

Not now he told himself again. Let the drones do their work ...

OOC Trinity Blood is no more, he got Deleted

As soon as the fighter and bomber drones had penetrated too close to the Vulcan battleships for The Trierarch's comfort, he sent out an order on the tactical band.

<Vulcani Navarches, fire all flamers on maximum spread immediately>

Marcus relayed the order to Fire Control, as the bridge rocked slightly from Bautizan missile impacts. Outside, the Phlegethon's and other Vulcans' short range autocannons were having little trouble taking out the slow-moving bomber drones. A schematic of the battleship projected on the holoscreen showed several sections outlined in red that had been punctured and automatically sealed off, but no critical damage had been inflicted on the capital ship as of yet. Even as he watched, though, four more autocannon emplacements flashed red as the Bautizans sought out weapon installations.

The nozzles on the Vulcans' heavy fusion reactors began to open as their turrets were brought slowly but steadily to bear on the Bautizan drone formations, magnetic guidance fields flicking into place as the fire control AI's locked drone targets and calculated projected flight paths and frequencies. With a roar inaudible in the vacuum of space, the fusion-powered flamethrowers opened up and belched forth huge trails of raw plasma and energy, focused by the magnetic fields into wide fans that were swept across the paths of the swarming Bautizan craft. Drones vaporized like moths in a flame as they were engulfed by the holocaust. After incinerating at least a hundred craft instantly and continuing to pick off others with more focused plasma blasts and missile salvoes, the battered fleet managed to send the remaining drones limping back to a safe distance.

On the bridge of the Phlegethon, Marcus whooped and added his own to the chorus of expletives directed at the Bautizan forces. <Radio discipline, socii> he ordered after a minute. <Neque spes concedite altius>*

The battle had become somewhat of a stalemate, although by no means a stable one. The Bautizan drones still circled the Roman formation, but remained reluctant to come within range of the powerful fusion guns of the Vulcans.


*Don't let your hopes run too high

"You see those fusion blasts?"
"Did indeed Creideiki, I think we all did."
"They must represent a breach of containment from their fusion reactors..."
"What are you thinking Creideiki?"
"That a sufficiently audacious, or perhaps lucky, shot at one of those vents could batter the containment and vent the whole reactor to space. In other words blow up the whole damn ship."
"Get the engineers looking at the possibility, and bring back twenty fighters to sling - what would you need?"
"Thermonuclear, probably."
"Thermonuclear torpedoes on them."
"Aye sir."
"Oh, and check the missiles are tough enough to withstand that blasting, ok?"
"Of course sir."
###
Give it a few minutes and, as long as the techs OKed it, an apparently suicidal mission against the Roman capital ships would be underway.

OOC: Where is everyone? :sniper:

(OOC: Eep. Sorry.)

The engines were shredded to pieces by the missile fire, their cheap construction detonation in quite nice flares as containment breached. Power went down on the carrier as emergency batteries were activated. The carrier continued moving inexorably, having recently been derived of its propulsion source.

Fighters continued to launch, albeit more slowly from the disabled carrier as manual launch systems were employed. Some of the heavy guns continued to fire, though only a couple were still firing as accurately as they used to.

The Asfaltum fighters, seeing that the carriers had been successfully disabled, now formed a huge wave bearing down on the enemy fighters. The two forces were on a collision course. The Asfaltum fighters readied their missiles, for one last strike.

The cult-fighters could not be sent out fast enough, and the effect of the Asfaltum wave would later be compared to using a squirt gun to stop an avalanche by academics.

The cannons of the superior fighters turned the pathetic swarms into masses of space junk as the fighters were destroyed mere seconds after being dispatched.

The cult-fighters could not be sent out fast enough, and the effect of the Asfaltum wave would later be compared to using a squirt gun to stop an avalanche by academics.

The cannons of the superior fighters turned the pathetic swarms into masses of space junk as the fighters were destroyed mere seconds after being dispatched.

OOC: You know Hakurabi, I really enjoy RPing with you... :D