NationStates Jolt Archive

(OOC: Sorry if it's a bit sloppy. I'm out of practice.)

"What do you suppose it is...?"

"Beats the shit out of me."

"Watch your language, lieutenant. ... But yeah, what the fuck is it?"

Three human figures crowded around a monitor, examining what appeared to be a carved (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v384/MachinaKyrios/Third-Generation%20Renders/Zircon%20Evolution/Striker1.jpg) asteroid (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v384/MachinaKyrios/Third-Generation%20Renders/Zircon%20Evolution/Striker2.jpg) giving off energy readings. Their faces showed thier immense curiosity, a thirst for knowlage they would no doubt take with them to thier graves.

... Which was to be sooner than they thought.

"... Think it's some kind of ship?"

"Who the hell builds ships out of rocks?"

"Some kind of organism?"

"It's a rock! I'm more concerned about those blue jewel-things on its surface... What do you think makes them glow like that?"

"Hey, we're nearby. Let's find out. We're explorers, right? Boldly going where no man has gone before. What's the harm?"


The GSAS Narwish, a seven hundred meter long battleship, was the pride of the Gilgamesh Supervisory Alliance's space fleet. In the alliance's six hundred year history after establishing thier first offworld colonies, they had never had to use thier fleet for anything but putting down rebel colonies in the far reaches of thier solar system. They had never explored faster than light travel, only long-range scanning and communications beyond the light barrier, but they knew they were not alone. The endless howling of the cosmic winds brought transmissions, made by sentient, communicating beings, to thier little system.

It was several agonizing weeks as the Narwish and her fleet of three hundred support and supply ships, previously en-route to the furthest planet in the star system they knew only as Solar, before the fleet got close enough to the object to really examine it.

... Then all hell broke loose.

The details of the engagement were simple. The glowing blue crystals on the rock's surface flashed violently, issuing coherent beams of energy that seemed to defy conventional physics, tearing two dozen of the Narwish's support ships asunder before the battleship and its remaining fleet could subdue the asteroid, as large as the Narwish itself, with thier antimatter torpedoes.

"Not a ship my ass!" One of the crewmembers who had sighted the object growled, smirking.

The smirk faded very quickly.


The loss of a single Striker was of as much consequence to the Zircon Swarm as the trimming of a centimeter's length on a single strand of hair to a human head. Unlike the human head, the Zircon knew of thier loss, and as the Hivemasters were aware, so too was the Neo-Mekantan Hegemony.

It was no coincidence that the Mekantan language's equivalent of "first contact" was "tara'mato'zlyo" ("Greet-taste-time")...


No sooner had the Zircon Striker, its core destroyed, disolved into a fine dust comprised of its base elements then space seemed to erupt in a violent dance of energy and gravity.

The crew of the Narwish and her fleet clung to thier consoles and bulkheads as the artificial gravity systems of thier ship were overpowered by the distortions. Those not entirely occupied with clinging to thier consoles wished they hadn't glanced at thier monitors as hundreds of rock-like ships like the ones they destroyed - and larger - flashed into being. Energy crackled along thier spines and thier crystaline "eyes" burned like minature suns.

Hope was not entirely extinguished until a large void left in the Zircon formations was filled with a single warship that dwarfed every structure in the region. Its rough, apparently seamless black hull pulsed with strange red patterns. It's long, thick, vicious looking spines crackled with excess energy from the feat of rending space-time asunder. The burning, violent glow of the core section at the bow of the ship, fire in the dragon's maw, cast a disturbing crimson light over the Narwish and its fleet. The entire armada could fit within its cavernous hull, and it exuded an air of invulnerability. It possessed no obvious weapon emplacements, no clues as to where its systems were placed, or even an obvious means of locomotion or how it functioned. It simply hung in the void, menacing, enigmatic, and bloodthirsty.

Deep within the behemoth, a lone female humanoid figure, her crimson hair tied back and the golden bands on her cheeks and the eyes that matched them glowing faintly in the darkness, sat calmly in her command throne, illuminated only by the faint crimson light of the occasional pattern on the walls.

"Tara'ta'za. Hyuma'ze'keh'ta ezat'sah'chya'za." ("Contact. To appear human.") A thousand voices boomed throughout the round chamber, the warship's own, informing its mistress of the situation.

A faint smile crossed her face, showing no surprise, no eagerness, only a deep, primal hunger restrained within a cage of discipline and control, an almost sexual lust for bloodshed. "Tara'tih... sah'thassa'tih..." ("Greet them... and attack...") She hissed, closing her eyes.



Gilgamesh, the Narwish's homeworld, lost contact with the Narwish Fleet immediately after visual feed of the ebon juggernaut came through. The planet was thrown into immediate panic, the planetary fleet scrambling into defensive positions.

They thought they had time. They thought they would be able to evacuate, to hide, to make some effort to defend themselves.

Reports poured in from colonies throughout the system. Strange rock-like constructs simply appeared. They oblitorated defenses in thier blitzkriegs. They rammed space colonies, planetary cities, military facilities. Strange rock creatures with glowing blue crystals in thier "heads" that fired powerful beams overran them. They couldn't hold out. Thier screams preceeded the end of thier transmissions.

Still the defense fleet around Gilgamesh held. Maybe they would ignore the planet. The colonies may be overrun, but the homeworld would remain. They hoped. They prayed. Thier gods forsook them.

Spacetime itself seemed to shriek in pain. The Darkship, without a single escort, appeared between Gilgamesh and its first moon. Tense seconds passed before the defenders of the planet fired barrage after barrage of antimatter torpedos at the monolithic menace. A crimson barrier flashed into being, showing no sign of wear as the first barrage exploded against it. Amused, the ship dropped the barrier, allowing subsequent barrages to impact directly against its hull.

As the light faded, observers around Gilgamesh were horrified to see the darkship's hull unmarred. It was then that a transmission was broadcast to the planet, in thier own language.

"Feeble creatures," The Darkship's omnivoice boomed, "We are the Galactic Hegemony of Neo-Mekanta. We offer you two options... Servitude... or annihilation..."

Tense moments passed. Seconds turned into minutes. Hope turned into dispair. Three battleships and thier escorts turned from loyal soldiers into patriots willing to disobey thier government to save thier people. Those same ships, moments later, turned into drifting scrap and an ever-expanding cloud of dust courtesy of a hellish barrage issued seemingly from the warship's hull.

Minutes turned into an hour, and the decision was made. All of Gilgamesh would follow those three task forces, and throw everything they had against the Neo-Mekantan menace.

Within the darkship, the female commander of the Mekantan warship simply nodded and leaned back in her chair, issuing the order that would decide the fate of billions: "Koral'tih." ("Destroy them.")


The Gilgamesh Supervision Alliance, and all its colonies, are no more. A single survivor, the captain of the Narwish, bore witness to the oblitoration of all he held dear. Two guards in powered armor stood to either side of him, the only entities he had witnessed upon being teleported within the ship. He sat, emotionless, thoughtless, unable to feel anything upon witnessing the sterilization of his homeworld.

He didn't notice a black cloud condensing behind him, a swarm of tiny machines combining to become the avatar of the one force Neo-Mekanta bowed to. He only reacted when a woman's hand rested on his shoulder. He turned slowly, staring at the black robed woman with long crimson hair who had touched him a moment. "... Who... Who are you...?"

"Jeh'za Rehnaematothraak..." She smiled, switching to his language. "I am the Goddess All-Consuming... Your kind calls me Minagoroshi..."

"... Why... Why did you do this...? Why us...?" The captain turned to her, tears in his eyes. "Why did you destroy my people?"

Minagoroshi simply smiled, black bands appearing on her cheeks like the markings of the Mekantans. "... Art requires a canvas... Your people should have submitted..." She reached out, her hand on his cheek as she closed her eyes. "... Do not grieve... I am benevolent... You will see your people again..."

Rehnaematothraak, Goddess All-Consuming. The name was not without meaning. Entire star systems had been devoured by the machines that comprised Minagoroshi's being. A single human was no issue. The captain could not even concieve what was happening before his cheek where Minagoroshi had touched turned a dark ebon hue, quickly spreading. He gave only a short shriek of agony before he could shriek no longer. In moments, he was no more, his entire body consumed by Minagoroshi.

The Goddess All-Consuming simply frowned, turning to the guards. The firepower thrown about in the oblitoration of even a primative nation like Gilgamesh would not go unnoticed.

Her smile returned as she left the chamber, her avatar disapating. Perhaps it was time for the galaxy to become re-aquainted with the Galactic Hegemony.

She was curious who, and what, would come investigate...


-OOC-
Contrary to the title and my re-introduction, I'm looking forward to reletively peaceful meetings. I appologize for the length. I tried to condense things as much as possible, but there's only so much I can do.

To those who do not know me, hello. To those who do... I'm back...

The entire war, if such a short slaughter can be called as such, did not go unwatched. Despite the effort of rebuilding the colonies, the blockade at Konoha alongside the Colonials, and the frantic reconstruction of their civilization in their five core systems, the Telrosian Ascendancy still kept up its never-ending vigil over the universe, sending patrols throughout entire dimensions, looking for any threats to the young nations which still crusaded throughout the stars, or to themselves....

To say the truth, they had not gone near Mekantan space as they had gone quiet a long time ago, and out of respect, they had left them alone. However, signs of fighting and weapons fire caught their attention and a recon squadron was sent to investigate.

So it was they watched the Alliance meet, attack, and be utterly consumed by the Mekantans. The Ascendants, who had been watched in their ships, phased out from this dimension entirely so as to remain undetected, began to do some heavy thinking. The Mekantan actions constituted genocide, but they were allies, and they HAD given them a chance to surrender, although it was servitude.....Messages were sent between the High Council and the recon squadron via the communal mind link. Eventually, a decision was made. They would welcome the Mekantans back and let this pass under the bridge. Such an ally could not be lost over a single nation, and it was another of the humans, anyways. They were like maggots, killing a single nest wasn't going to impact them any.

They didn't like it, but it didn't matter.

Karis extended his mental presence out to the Mekantans, seeking to open contact. Not truly physically even existing anymore, merely beings of energy similar to what the Ta'Nar had become, they literally inhabited the very computers, wiring, and systems of the ship. This greatly reduced space, and allowed them to have incredibly powerful but fast ships. Such as it was on the edge of the system the Mekantan fleet was on, space shivered, and an Ascendant frigate (http://a248.e.akamai.net/f/248/5462/2h/images.gamezone.com/screens/27/7/89/s27789_pc_115.jpg) appeared. A message was sent, carefully so as not to pry or anything, to the minds of those onboard.

"Greetings to our Mekantan allies. It is good to see you have come back from your hibernation. This is Karis of the Telrosian Ascendancy. We wish to reopen negotiations, talk, etc etc. The usual stuff. It's not interesting but things have changed since you left and we feel the need to get both of us up to speed, no?"

-Darkship Aryak'ze Kyruyan (Stone's Blood)

The psychic transmission was caught by the Darkship rather than its crew or divine occupant, which was passed on immediately to the commander, Iashya math Kannsa, and the Goddess All-Consuming herself.

The reply from Minagoroshi came quickly.

"Greetings, Telrosian friends. It has been too long. If you hold no fear of me, perhaps a meeting on your ship would be... acceptable?"

"I am afraid meeting on my ship is impossible, as we have no room for you onboard. We do not...inhabit ships in the same manner as other species. If it is alright with you, I wouldn't mind coming aboard your ship?"

“Trent…” said an older man with salt and peppered hair, blue decorated uniform, brown eyes, and a beard, a young man with blue eyes, black hair a tall semi muscular form in his twenties looked over to the shorter man With a nod he said “Commander?”
The older man stood in front of Trent, his hands folded behind as he stood in the middle of the hanger bay, the sounds of machining, from droids reverberating through the massive several mile long bay, HSF-101’s could be seen being moved via Dark energy rollers in to positions. The man responded with a smile, moving his hands to his side.

“Lieutenant hawking, we have a mission for you and your squad, Fleet command wants us to scout out a nearby system, possibly for recourses life or what not, The UTS federation carrier group will follow you behind but we will be slower, we don’t want to raise alarms in the system if there is life under stood?” his voice was not to loud but loud enough to hear over the constant machining lifting and shouting of the personnel on the flight deck.
Trent nodded he responded by going to attention snapping his gloved hands to the side and his feet for a forty five degree angle , he saluted and then went to at ease.
“Good” the commander said turning away, he started to walk his boots tapping on the metal flight deck, personnel passing behind him on hover carts carrying parts.

“You leave in an hour get your squad briefed”… he said as he wandered off, Trent just smiled he was the first wing officer of the Excalibur one squadron, he was about to take the first Mission related flight with the HSF-101 Excalibur, brand new heavy fighters replacing the HSF-105 Star streak. He was excited he had only had training with these he had never flown an actual mission before at least with these fighters. He thought and acted roughly like an inexperienced cadet would about these fighters, but in actuality he was an experienced Combat pilot, he flew the SF-16 Thunder bolt vipers in many Federation campaigns and the HSF-105 on some missions, he knew how to fly and what to do in situations.

Trent “Killer” Hawking was a young Lieutenant, about 22 years old, he joined the Federation fighter cops academy on Dehlini Prime when he was 17, while attending the university of combat., he was an orphan, parents were killed during the bombing and destruction of Terran Prime, he was put in a foster care system until he was 17 when he entered the academy. An outgoing dynamic person with a bit of a hot shot altitude he graduated valedictorian in the academy and university he quickly excelled .He was assigned several postings on bases and ships after he graduated.

He walked down the corridor in to the briefing room, his grayish flight suit jingling with some equipment as he entered. He saw his squadron mates, he smiled as he began to brief them on the mission, It was a simple scout ‘n’ go mission, little did they know it was going to be more than that, far more. The room stood up after Trent had done talking he walked out ahead of his comrades, they marched down the corridor to the awaiting HSF-101’s, they smiled each of them as they saw the twenty six meter long beauties before them, their call signs etched on the side of each fighter.

The HSF-101 Excalibur, is a next generation fighter, utilizing the best in federation technology, it was meant for quick and heavy striking against other fighters and capital ships. Each of them jumped in to the fighters, the cockpit of the HSF-101 was fundamentally dissimilar from earlier fighters, the computers were spread around, from side to side to the front with holographic panels, and touch screens, Trent placed the blinking interface in to the back of his neck, the AI human interface was no wireless, completely wireless. Trent sat back on his combat chair, he put his mask over his face and depolarized his eye slits enough for him to see around him, with the New AI he had a first and Third person view, combined with his sensors and the new PISA system on the fighter.
He began to push the throttle forward, taxing the large fighter craft on to the Dark Energy Discharger.

The Large fighter craft quickly taxied to their Launch ports, suddenly they took off, a streak of hot blue energy flowing behind as the Discharger pushed to large plated craft out in to the dark portentous space ahead. As the fighter formed up in to a tactical formation , they moved away from the massive Federation class battle carrier that had deployed them, their engines glowing blue hot as they moved at high speed, tactical jump drives powering up, Trent was taping along his consoles charging up his FTL drive, as he went over the comms via telepathic communications.

Trent pressed a button and suddenly he was jerked back in to his chair, as his fighter hastened beyond the speed of light in to a portal of ominous light. The six Fighters Came to a stop several moments later, Trent was ahead of the others, they floated gently over a planet in the system, and behind a moon, their power signatures were very small, gravimetric signatures dwarfed by the planet, the new stealth system of the HSF-101 was state of the art, their hull was plated with RAM, and SAM, as well as sloped surfaces to reflect scans to another location, they even had a molecular cloak activated, phasing the molecular structure of the fighter in to different parts. They drifted in to the system a bit more hiding behind the moon Trent continued to commune with his comrades. The sensors were going on the fritz, detecting massive energy signatures ships and radiation from a long passed battle


Trent: What the hell happened, my sensors are going nuts, they are detecting several ships, some familiar others un familiar by today’s databases.

Bone: I don’t know man, whatever it is I don’t have a visual on it, but it’s big.

Raptor: Yeah I say we hover to a different position where we can get a visual we are several AU away.

Trent: agreed, Squadron moves to vector one niner five eight!”

Trent was adamant about the situation; he figured this would be the only way to get data on these things or whoever these people were, as well as gain possible leads on to what happened in to the system, as the fighters gently moved under minimal power from behind the moon towards another debris field, their signatures almost non existent .

…Now it was that waiting game to see and to gather information about the entire situation...

(http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/USFU/HSF-101.jpg )
(http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/USFU/HSF-101under.jpg)
(http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/USFU/UTSFederation.jpg)

0412 Hours, January 15, 2591 (Military Calendar)
Fort Stratshaft Military Complex, Epsilon Eirdanus system

The room was quiet and dimly-lit, but well-populated. Outside on the balcony several officers of the Colonial Navy could be seen standing in a clump, red glows from cigars and pipes puffing in the darkness. More officers were inside the conference room, standing around drinking from water bottles or munching on pieces of fruit or danishes from the buffet cart that had been wheeled in. There were a variety of uniforms present: representatives from the Colonial Navy in their grey-and-whites, the olive-green of the Colonial Marine Corps. Even a couple blue-and-blacks of the Colonial Militia.

A few off on the side were representatives from the Office of Naval Intelligence (ONI), who generally kept to themselves. Their branch of the service was generally distrusted by the other military agencies, who were content with staying at arm's length from the ultrasecretive service. Not like there was much room here, however. The conference room door opened, allowing a civilian tailed by several naval officers to enter the dimly-lit space. Almost immediately a more senior naval officer with five gold stripes was on his feet, moving around the table and extending a hand. "Mr. Secretary."

"Fleet Admiral Harper," the secretary of defense replied, shaking the naval officer's hand. It was immediately evident that the two were on mutually good terms. A vital necessity at meetings of the Colonial Authority Security Council. "Let's get this started, if you please."

"Of course sir. Gentlemen, if you please," the elderly man stated, gesturing with a wrinkled and calloused hand to the table. Chairs creaked under the sudden weight, or maybe under the weight of the medals and ribbons that could be seen. Row after row of campaign medals, honorary decorations, unit citations, weapons-qualification awards. Some of the most important military officers in all of Colonial space were here now.

"This meeting is classified Secret Top Secret," Fleet Admiral Harper remarked aloud, causing faces that were grim to become even more so. STS was a classification index all its own, a barrier to the most important of data whose exposure would cause exceptionally grave damage to the Colonial Authority of Bautizar and its interests. It was rarely invoked, let alone for secret meetings at 0400 in the morning. "Mr. Secretary."

Secretary Werschler leaned forward in his chair, holding a folder in his left hand. "Gentlemen, some of us have seen the report from the Office of Naval Intelligence. General Picha, would you please provide us a quick summary, for those of us who haven't seen it?"

"Yes sir," the tall marine replied in his rumbling voice. The man looked like a catcher for laserball, with thick hands and a square frame. Almost like he was chiseled specifically to be a military officer. The screen at the head of the tabletop flashed once, brightened, then resolved to show a planet crisscrossed by lights.

"This planet, known locally as Gilgamesh, was first located by the freighter Post No Bills about six years ago. It was an accident; the ship encountered a slipspace bubble and had to go to subspace. Before it re-entered slipspace and continued on its way it was hailed twice by the planet. The A.I. didn't bother responding, but if filed a contact report with the DCS [Department of Commercial Shipping] upon its return."

Unusual for a first-contact situation, but the circumstances made sense. Many civilizations were not members of the Intergalactic Trade Hub, but the Colonial Authority was. This would not have been the first civilization encountered by CA vessels transiting from a trade hub exit to a non-member state. "I take it that ONI sent a prowler to the planet?" someone inquired. It was hard to see in the relative darkness of the room who asked the question, but it sounded like Fleet Admiral Granger, commanding officer of the Fort Ash River Military Complex. If Fort Stratshaft had a twin, Fort Ash River would have been it.

"We did," the general replied with a nod. The image on the screen changed, to show orbital stations and what appeared to be a military starship. "The Gilgamesh Supervisory Alliance had extensive military fortifications and bases on its colonies and homeworld – see appendix c of your briefing packets for more information – and was considered capable of interstellar flight. Weapons systems were not considered to be a match for ours – see appendix f for more information – but their officer corps was considered above-par for what we've seen in the past. The Foreign Office decided not to open negotiations for permanent diplomatic relations in light of other commitments abroad, but requested that ONI continue periodic monitoring of the GSA and its colonies so as to keep an eye on them."

Nods around the table, and thoughtful gestures. Someone shifted in their chair, leaning to the side to quietly converse with their neighbor. That side conversation ended abruptly, however, when something new appeared on the screen. Something profoundly alien. A rock with glowing spikes, for lack of a better description. "This starship was spotted by the prowler Renown in orbit around Gilgamesh over twenty hours ago. The Renown was monitoring several of the GSA's more outlying colonies in-system when they were attacked by ships with similar appearances: she proceeded at best speed possible to the homeworld and found this starship in orbit bombarding the surface."

The room was deathly quiet. Nobody said anything.

"Casualty figures, general?" This question from Secretary Werschler. The pause that the question generated caused nearly everyone present to turn and eye General Picha.

"Total, sir."

"My God," someone whispered. Heads turned to eye the alien spaceship on the screen, again. Even as the general spoke again to clarify his previous remarks. "The Renown reports that the planetary bombardment was total and catastrophic. All surface life has been exterminated. We've dispatched two more prowlers to GSA territory in an effort to gather more intelligence about this new species. They call themselves the –" there was a pause as the general consulted his notes, "- the Galactic Hegemony of Neo-Mekanta, Mr. Secretary."

"People, we have to come up with a policy," the secretary found himself saying several minutes later. My God, what if they find an Intergalactic Trade Hub member? The security implications could be devastating. "I have to brief the Secretary-General in three hours on this disaster. And we need an answer."

It took longer than three hours. Five, to be exact, but the decision was finally made. Colonial military units abroad would go to an alert status until more was known about the threat. ONI would begin making appropriate inquiries with its foreign sources and contacts for more information about the Neo-Mekanta. And representatives would also be sent to the Intergalactic Trade Hub Directorate, requesting that no Neo-Mekanta ships be allowed to traverse the hub to any point in or near Colonial space.

There would be no official policy statement on the disaster. For now at least. When the citizens of the Colonial Authority found out about this however – and they would eventually find out – there would be pressure to act. To retaliate. To do something to prevent this from happening to any world within Colonial Authority of Bautizar space.

A desperation jump into the realm of the unknown was a pathetic attempt by the pirate scum to evade their fate. The two pirate raiders hopped out of hyperspace into the system - a random set of coordinates simply plucked by the ship VIs for hope of losing their pursuers. It was useless - the advanced AIs aboard the Dominion military vessels hot in pursuit were easily able to match coordinates and shoot after the two fleeing renegade ships. The pirate raiders had thirty seconds to attempt to burn as fast as possible away from their hyperjump locale - a spot in space nearby a desolate rock at the system's fringe - before four angry vessels blasted in-system after them.

The pirates had raided a civilian station a mere three hours earlier, looting and killing. Local authorities had been quickly dispatched, and it had been a cat-and-mouse game ever since. This was the third destination of the pirates so far - and hopefully, the last. They had started with five ships and were down to two, the Dominion fleet behind them - a Centaur-class attack cruiser, a Spartan-class battlecruiser, and an Akira-class destroyer paired with a Purity biodreadnought - were so far without a major loss. It was a matter of time now before the scum were eradicated.

Starskippers - living organic fighters - started emerging from the bioship's hanger-tendrils immediately upon release from hyperspace. Pirate fighters - all three squads of them - immediately dispatched to counter the swarming masses of starskippers pulling away from their docking organs. The pirate fighters, besides being overmatched, were already suffering a major numerical disadvantage...more than 10:1. They hurtled suicidally at the nimble living craft half their size, readying weapons systems.

The capital ships, meanwhile, attempted to use the fighter battle upcoming as a means of escape. Active scanners came up, showing conduits and local cosmology, hoping to reveal a tight corridor or dangerous areas of elements. The closest seemed some distance away...and it was doubtful the pirate raiders, second-hand ships, could outrun the top-of-the-line vessels of the Amazonian military. Already, the attack cruiser, ADV Far Reach, was peppering away with plasma drivers, the plasma-shrouded depleted plutonium slugs flying at .98c from long coilguns aboard the vessel. Manned, synethetic fighters began coming out from the battlecruiser, ADV Fist of the Father, sleek interceptors and bulky, loaded starbombers. Quick advance was made on the two capital ships as the Dominion vessels spread into a spearhead formation.

The pirate fighters closed with the starskippers, electricity lighting up space as the masses of living fighters ripped open with their electric plasma weaponry - beams coalescing with petawatts of electricity capable of sheering through the energy shields and metallic hulls of their adversaries. The pirates responded with lasers tearing out from their thirty-six craft, red bolts flying forth at light speed towards the enemy. Contact was inevitable with over four hundred fighters dipping in on the enemy. The initial barrage was too limited to cause any major damage - the starskippers suffered no casulties. On the other hand, their lightning beam weaponry sliced apart eleven of the pirate fighters upon contact, simply too many beams for the enemy VIs to account for.

The capital ships, now, were reaching engagement range. Ion rockets zipped out from the enemy pirate vessels as a combine cannon - combing the power of twelve turbolasers into a single beam - ripped out from the battlecruiser. Shields ripped in greens and yellows as enemy fire impacted. Point defense on the Dominion vessels immediately started up, violet meson beams portruding out like cilia from numerous small cannons as tiny interceptor rockets charged into enemy warheads. Gas clouds eminated from the enemy capital ships, ionized clouds dissipating the beams partially before they hit shield banks. The assault cruiser began advancing, the fastest capital ship in the formation, as the biodreadnought opened up with its meteor cannon - pores shooting out massive, burning hulks of slag at near-relativistic speeds, propelled by natural magnetic fields tailored by Dominion bioticists.

Enemy interceptor rockets weren't enough to stop the hunks of slag inbound on the enemy, slamming into the shields and sending out red ripples across the defensive energy grids - they were almost down. The attack cruiser began a directed attack, hundreds of positron torpedoes shooting out from the vessel. Each one, being equipped with a basic (and cheap) VI and a small energy shield, was able to dodge and avoid the initial round of countermeasures before a quick-dropped magnetic chaff round sucked in several of the missiles. Singularity projectors emitted by the biodreadnought flashed down the shields of the two pirate capital ships with intense gravitational fields, clearing the way for the missiles to streak in, along with numerous blue turbolaser pulses from the ships.

White light blasted out as the positron cores of the torpedoes shunted their full force into the hulls of the enemy vessels, large portions of the pirate craft simply disappearing before the barrage. Plasma drivers pounded in as desperate countermeasures and enemy turbolasers flashed out, barely scratching the enemy shields. The starskippers and manned fighters, done with the enemy fighters, rushed in, sensing a kill. Enemy point defense was barely viable now, paving the way for an intense assault of missile weaponry and several larger hunks from the meteor cannons of the biodreadnought. The smaller pirate craft exploded upon contact with a large piece of burning slag, the second dispatching a surrender request to the Fist.

It was far too late to ask for mercy from the bloodthirsty Dominion commanders - they should have thought of that before attacking a civilian colony. The heaviest barrage of weaponry yet responded to the request as the pirate vessel initiated what evasive manuevers it could. Mass weapon after energy weapon slammed into the open hull, laid bare for the killing. Three escape pods flashed forth, quickly bracketed by the starskippers and lit up with electric weaponry. Pinpoint turbolaser beams slammed into the exposed reactor compartments of the pirate vessel, a titanic explosion enveloping the remainder of the craft. The battle was finished.

Rendevousing with the support craft, the capital ships tightened formation and tried to figure out where the wild goose chase had led them. Active sensors began pinging out, searching for potential cloaked presences or unnatural signatures picking out sentient craft.

-(Former) Gilgameshi Solar System

The Stone's Blood hung motionless in space, unconcerned with being unseen, uncaring about who did see it.

Not that it did not know who observed, mind you. Mekantan Darkships prided themselves on boarderline omniscience. Gravitational disruptions, ripples in spacetime caused by FTL travel, trails left behind by conventional propulsion, presences in other layers of space, even the thoughts of sentient beings, nothing escaped the knowlage of a Darkship when it was actively searching.

The Darkship's entire role was that of finding thier victims and crushing them with overwhelming force. It was the result of hundreds of millenia of simulation, research, combat data, the very core of the Mekantan psyche engineered to be a perfect, unstoppable killing machine, adapting to the situation and exploiting every weakness it discovers while allowing itself none of its own.

It was when the Dominion ships began scanning that the Darkship decided to make its presence, and that it could see all, known. Its active sensor sweeps filled the system, illuminating the Darkship's presence and warning all within the system that it may know where they are.

Then it sat, waiting, mocking...


-Darkship Aryak'ze Kyruyan

Minagoroshi smiled, shaking her head as she sent another message to the Telrosians.

"The Stone's Blood seems slightly iritable right now. I wouldn't advise it. I have no need for an atmosphere, and it is lovely out. Perhaps on the hull of your ship would be acceptable?"


-OOC-
Oh, just realized I forgot to post the renders of the darkship.

Showing the top. (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v384/MachinaKyrios/Third-Generation%20Renders/NeoMekanta/Darkship1.jpg)
Side view, showing the fire in the dragon's maw and a basic profile. (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v384/MachinaKyrios/Third-Generation%20Renders/NeoMekanta/Darkship2.jpg)
The rear of the ship, making noticable the extended "bulge" on its bottom section. (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v384/MachinaKyrios/Third-Generation%20Renders/NeoMekanta/Darkship3.jpg)
The underside (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v384/MachinaKyrios/Third-Generation%20Renders/NeoMekanta/Darkship4.jpg)
A roughly front-on angle. (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v384/MachinaKyrios/Third-Generation%20Renders/NeoMekanta/Darkship5.jpg)

"Karis, we're detecting two space-time disruptions."

The Ascendant turned his mind awake from the mind link with the Goddess, and turned to his sensor officer. She wasn't a "sensor officer" in the normal sense, she used the sensor systems, that was true, but they were enhanced and linked to her mind, so she got quite a boost from them, and it made them able to detect sensitive changes that much more.

"Where are they?"

"There are over in sector zero-three-seven, and sector fourteen-two-eight. I am detecting Federation and Amazonian signatures."

Karis paused to think for a moment, contacting the High Council on the matter. "Keep a note of them but do not contact. The reestablishment of relations with Mekanta is paramount." He then felt another message coming in and he turned his attention back to the mind link.

"The Stone's Blood seems slightly irritable right now. I wouldn't advise it. I have no need for an atmosphere, and it is lovely out. Perhaps on the hull of your ship would be acceptable?"

Karis paused, surprised at the notion. It was true that he could talk on the hull of his ship, the Ascendants did not need air, water, food, all the limitations a mortal body gave them. They could consume such things, as they had taken a sort of physical form, but they could lift that at any time.

"That sounds workable for the both of us. Shall I move my ship closer to yours to facilitate this meeting?"

1114 Hours, January 16, 2591 (Military Calendar)
ONI Prowler Renown, Gilgamesh system

The Renown (http://i141.photobucket.com/albums/r67/S_Baxter2064/Bautizar/Prowler.jpg) was a testament to the Colonial Navy of the Colonial Authority of Bautizar.

Once upon a time she had been a destroyer, liberally coated in ten meters of armor plating, equipped with strong shields, and with an armament that couldn't be matched except by other naval vessels. With a squadron of fighters, another of dropships, and a company of marines aboard she had plied her business – the business of enforcing the policies of the Authority – in the Outer colonies. Her track record had been largely undistinguished: a salvage mission here, a search-and-rescue there. Minor skirmishes with pirate gangs, occasionally intervening in a dispute between local authorities and government.

In general, she had done her time and done it well, with nothing distinguishing her from the rest of the stable of destroyers that were in the fleet. Naval records showed that in 2579 she had been decommissioned and sold for scrap. The Navy had made a pretty penny, too: about 1.08 credits on the pound. And at eight million tons deadweight it was a nice return on a ship which had put in thirty-four years of unheralded military service.

But her time wasn't due. At least not yet, for someone else had had their eyes on her.

The Renown had unceremoniously been purchased by a front company of the Office of Naval Intelligence, an organization so clouded in mystery and intrigue that even most of its own agents never knew what it was up to half the time. Gutted, stripped down to her framework, and then meticulously rebuilt in a secretive part of the shipyards in orbit around Fort Ash River, then a growing military settlement in a lawless frontier region, the former destroyer with life left in her bones had emerged a stronger, faster, better starship.

And now she was here: a million light-years from home and in decidedly unfriendly space. It was an assertion brought home – again – as the ship's PA system crackled to life. "Attention all hands: the smoking pit is out and the galley fires are cold. Minimal personnel movement is encouraged. All nonessential personnel remain in your racks unless otherwise directed. That's all people."

Lieutenant Commander Winchester heard the announcement just as his eyes were starting to close. With a sigh to himself, wondering just what the hell he was doing but knowing why he was doing it, a hand reached out from under the blanket to grope blindly in the darkness of his cabin. The lights came on, making his eyes wince as he buried his face in the pillow.

A five-foot-high pedestal on the far side of the cabin flickered with light at the top. It resolved itself into a purple figure that glowed with text, numbers, and symbols that wrapped around its – her – body. Isis was the proverbial queen of the Renown, having been with the ship both in military service and now in ONI duty. It was rumored in the lower enlisted decks that there was enough of her in the computer systems to make the ship a relative.

"Did you want some light sir?"

The ship's commanding officer squinted at her, peering through the all-too-bright cabin. "Hell no. Shut those goddamned things off." Darkness replaced light, save for the purple illumination.

"Apologies sir." She promptly vanished, plunging all of the cabin back into dark. Blissful dark. The hand that had started all this mess with its groping along the wall settled on the cool plastic of a handset. He pulled it off its cradle. "Bridge." His throat was raspy, dry. A testament to having just stood a twenty-seven hour-long watch with no relief in sight. All sixty civilians, one hundred eighteen naval personnel, and ninety-one marines aboard had been as busy as he'd been in the aftermath of the fall of the Gilgamesh system.

On the bridge the handset attached to the side of the command chair started twinkling with a red light on top, but the occupant of the chair didn't pay any attention to it. At least not until a harsh growling sound began to come from the device. They looked at it at first, then decided that maybe it was worth answering. "Bridge. Lieutenant Kessinger speaking."

"This is the captain," she heard in reply. She gave a look to the A.I. avatar above the projector mounted on the other side of the chair, who had just been regaling her with the story of how "this one time I woke the captain," and shook her head in disapproval. "Did we finish those calculations on the power levels needed for that sensor sweep?"

The sweep had nearly illuminated the prowler to detection levels. And that was despite the sensor-absorbing material, the cloaking device that was light-years ahead of anything the lieutenant commander had ever seen in regular naval service, and the greatly-reduced powerplant output levels. The only thing that had saved the ship - ironic as it may have been - was her having been on the far side of a debris cloud from the Neo-Mekanta capital ship. Reminded of this near-brush with disaster, the lieutenant called up a pertinent file in the computer system.

"Aye sir. Sending it down to you now."

"Very well. Continue to monitor the Neo-Mekanta ship in orbit around Gilgamesh. And have Gunnery-Sergeant Conley start drawing up a plan for an insertion onto the planet itself. I want some firsthand data on the destruction capabilities, weapons signatures, and so on and so forth." Winchester hung up the handset and swung his feet out of the rack, setting them on the floor as he rolled upright and rubbed at his eyes. His computer on the desk lit up with a soft shade of blue, waiting for him with exquisite patience. So much for sleep, he thought to himself as he eyed the device.

OOC: Tag. Welcome back Mekanta. Goddamn I'm happy you're more or less on my side.

Kanuckistani Home Cluster, 5000 Lightyears Beyond the Rim:


"And Happy Birthday!" Brian waved, his friend of two hundred and thirty vanishing behind armour plate as the gull-wing door closed with the hiss of it's airlock seal, reappearing as the display 'window' sync'd, his gray-furred form by now receding across the hangar.

A few keystrokes confirmed his identity and ownership, a few more spooling up the car's reactor and reactionless drives.

"Cheska, Autodrive, Home"

"Autodrive, Home. Please Confirm."

"Confirmed."

He lingered then, in the driver's seat, watching as the car's AI contacted the local STC, filed it's destination, and received it's flight plan. Closing his eyes, he smiled, not feeling a thing as the car lifted off, angling into space; the new compensator was working perfectly.


A two-hour flight ahead of him, interrupted only by a single slipgate transit, the hunam moved to the vehicle's small lounge to check his investments.


Twenty minutes passed before Gilgamesh, a system he had passed through nearly eight hundred years ago as crew aboard a survey ship, reached the top of the queue. A system he had long sense laced with passive monitoring devices, capturing their history, culture, and the entirety of their broadcast media(along with most of their computer networks) for resale to the interstellar community - washed of anything that might reveal the system's location, "for their protection," of course. 'Gotta love sub-lighters' the moocher mused, a smile touching his lips.


A smile quickly fading as the last few days of sensor data flashed through his neural net.


----


~263 Lightyears From Gilgamesh, Near Fort CTRL-F5, Interstellar Space:


Captain Brianna Braceforth, KCV Golden BB, Armani Resource Reallocation, was in the middle of her breakfast steak when the comm began pestering her neural lace.

Setting down her utensils, the news feed vanished from the wall, replaced by the nearby Guild starbase, and then in turn, the somewhat disconcerting grin of an old friend.

"Catch you at a bad time, BB?" the hunam's visage queried with raised brow, having spotted the lupine's meal.

"Kinda; can I call you back?"


"Well, I've got some good news, and some bad news," he continued, heedless, garnering a measure of ire upon the wolf's features, "The bad news, well, you know that show you liked? Equinox 5, or something? It's been cancelled, by the Mekantans, via orbital bombardment - bastards glassed the whole GSA."


"Say WHAT?!" Bri gasped, ears wilted and muzzle a-gape, a slight twitch tugging at the edge of her left jowl, "...there were bil... nd just what's your good news?"


"The Gilgameshi primary's a Population 1 Extreme," Brian, grinning across half the galaxy at the stunned and dismayed wolf lass, replied, "And I have all the GSA's mineralogical survey data."


----


Gilgamesh, Twenty Minutes Later...


'I can't believe I agreed to go along with this,' Brianna sighed, as the KCV Golden BB's two kilometer bulk suddenly appeared twenty light-minuted above the system's star with shields at Nav-gauge, rolling drones, her IFF declaring her identity, registry, and classification as a miner/prospector - repeated FTL as the drones cleared her ASPEW fields, gradually forming up into a multi-lightsecond shell of sensors and countermeasures, the later for now remaining quiet as active scans began, sublight and FTL, with the weak tell-tale gravity waves of active GRIDAR.

"This is Captain Brianna Braceforth of the Kanuckistani Civilian Vessel Golden BB, registered Armani Resource Reallocation." the hail began in Kanuckistani Standard English, across most common frequencies and encodings, including universal analog, with a sub-channel translation matrix where supported, "Be advised that it is my intent to lay claim to significant aspects of this systems mineral wealth, should none thus far present wish to preempt or otherwise raise reasonable objection to this claim. Golden BB out."




(OOC: And GRIDAR's default gravity waves are very weak, to the point that most folks without won't detect them. The Golden BB itself would exert far more gravitational pull, for example.)

-Former Gilgameshi Star System

The Goddess All-Consuming was amused by the Telrosian offer.

"No need. To get closer would only put you in the line of fire if any of our other visitors become hostile."

Little but a bright flash and some temperature variaton heralded the arrival of an avatar of Minagoroshi on the hull of the Telrosian warship. Her hair and robes fluttered in an imaginary breeze for a moment, something Minagoroshi felt was a necessary part of teleportation.


The arrival of the Kanuckistani prospector certainly didn't escape the attention of the Stone's Blood, nor was it unnoticed by a second dark-hulled juggernaut. The Darkship Koral'ze Korul punched through the fabric of spacetime near the star, its consciousness immediately grabbing any of the Kanuckistani's message it might have missed and its commander preempting any message Iashya may have planned.

Deep inside the Death's Harvest, the walls of its command chamber burned with brightly glowing patterns, signifying to its commander that it was broadcasting. Kaerii toth Matha hopped up from her chair, a broad grin plastered on her face. Her long, wild, unkempt white hair and the wild look in her sapphire eyes made her look more than a little crazy, and while she was a brilliant linguist, even the Zircon recognized her as a horrible negotiator because of how utterly irrational she could be in social contexts.

"Attention irritating ape-jelly-mold-dog-penis people of Kanuckistan!" Kaerii's voice bellowed across multiple open channels, not bothering to direct it just at the Kanuckistani. "This system is under the absolute control of the mighty and undeniably attractive Galactic Hegemony of Neo-Mekanta, and is to be redeveloped by the Zircon Swarm. If you wish to harvest the resources of this system, you will enter into negotiations aboard my warship under Mekantan law and regulation."

The glow in the room faded, and Kaerii flopped back into her chair, looking up at the ceiling. "Doe'KAHNUKI'ta nae'zjeseth'ta'ezoruth'tih?" The Death's Harvest asked its mistress, undoubtably cautious about the invitation of a Kanuckistani into its interior. There was something of a mutual distrust and dislike between Neo-Mekanta and Kanuckistan, and just as the Kanuckistani no doubt expected Mekantans to destroy worlds for "shits and giggles" the Mekantans expected Kanuckistani to be carrying antimatter explosives or have a dozen retractable penises that spewed plasma or acid. The Death's Harvest had no intention of allowing such a dangerous creature near its mistress, and was prepared to do whatever it took to ensure the Kanuckistani was no threat, regardless of their comfort.

"Tza'to. Ezoruth'tih'ko. Jeh'ta'jeh'ze'myeh'ta'kir'tih." Kaerii sighed, getting up from her chair.

"Tza'to."


Throughout the system, more Zircon tore into the system, heading straight for the debris fields left by the fighting. Everything was to be dragged to Gilgamesh and piled on the planet's surface.

They had plans for that planet...

Trent looked at his console ahead, his eyes peering at the Sensory warning receiver as it went off beeping and blinking, the squadron was being actively scanned now, Trent cursed under his breath “Damn it!” as he moved his hand quickly away from his console back to his control surface. He started to communicate to the others, his interface blinking as his messages were sent from one mind to the other.

Trent: We have a problem guys…..
Bone: We know L.T
Raptor: what the hell do we do now my sensory warning receiver is going fucking nuts…
Trent: we contact the carrier and have them meet whatever’s out here; we can’t do anything alone, those things massive…
Raptor: Yeah in the mean time we should try to keep a low…… {He was cut off}
Trent: on the contrary we should make ourselves known, they don’t seem to be to trigger happy, besides we have plenty of other people here as well.....

Trent was banking on the idea that this species had so many friends or so he thought, there would not be a problem coming out…. He hoped he was right… this was a big risk Trent sat back folding his hands on his lap as he thought about it, a mix of fear excitement and caution echoing through his consciousness. He sighed to himself placing his gloved hand on the throttle and another on his fighter’s controls, with a slightly push forward and a tug to the side his fighter powered up moving away from the debris field, his squadron followed, the engines of the fighters shined blue hot as they moved at high speed towards the group of ships.

Trent sank back in to his chair as the massive ship came in to range, its portentous form making him cringe, his mind filled with near panic now, he was holding on to his emotions by the skin of his teeth, his fighters tiny size shimmered gently as its molecular cloak disengaged, the light of the nearby star glimmering gently on the hull of his fighter, and shining through the clear tritanuim cockpit on to his body. His eyes were wide, his hands resting on his controls as his fighter moved forward at a mediocre speed.

Trent was almost in a abstraction of current reality, his mind was wandering as the mixture of fear, and Adrenalin gave a jolt to his nerves, he broke out of it as rational thought came back in to his form, he looked around shaking his head and started to send a message to the UTS Federation that was half a light year out of the system.

This is killer one, to Federation.. We have a situation alpha gamma tango here, unknown forces, and several other unknown factions within system, request your presence…
Commander Dalton Looked up to his screen as the message came in via quantum entanglement through the holo screen, he raised his right hand to his chin and thought as he heard the words from the obviously entranced Trent Hawkins, whatever was going on In that system, it warranted the federations attention.

Dalton sighed looking over to his helms officer moving his hands back down to his sides as he stood rather tall over most working officers on the bridge. H e said with a commanding voice, his arms now crossed as his blue uniformed shimmered in the dull white light of the massive bridge.

The new interphased drive of the Fleet carrier charged up, its massive form shimmered gently as energy noises reverberated through the ship, Dalton sat down on his chair sinking in to it waiting for the ship to burst. With a golden hue around the body of the ship the massive carrier flew off with a trail of golden particle dust behind it in to the darkness of space disappearing in to the void between universes for a split second as its first true test of its inter phased drive became a reality. The more conventional ships followed with MD warp, shimmering in to crackling vortexes of energy.

The fleet carrier arrived, its body shimmering back in to existence with the same golden hue, the Federation class battle carrier shimmered forward, its eight massive engines pushing streams of bluish black, dark energy behind, pushing it forward. Dalton stood up, as the rest of the eight ships in the carrier task force arrived; he planted his hand on to a blinking panel the material feeling glassy and somewhat electric on his hand. He sent a message to the ships in the system his voice going through the communications array I na wide band transmission..

This is the Terran Federation ship UTS Federation, of Terran carrier task force alpha five, we noticed activity within this system of several ships and factions, and we wish to make peaceful contact with you, please respond


( the federation class battle carrier http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/USFU/UTSFederation.jpg)

Karis smirked as he felt the sudden burst of psionic energy coming from the Neo-Mekantan ship, and then felt it again on the hull of their ship. A wry mental grin formed in his mind. "And that's what I get for underestimating the Goddess of the Mekantans." Focusing his mind, he felt himself lifted from inside the computers and circuitry of the ship and landed on the hull of the ship. When Minagoroshi first saw Karis, she would see what the Mekantans would believe them to be. The way they worked was since their total energy form was constantly shifting and unable to be noticed by normal eyes, as it went beyond the spectrum they could see, they would see what they imagined them to be. Some native cultures thought of them as gods, angels, and even demons. "Then again, Minagoroshi may be able to see it. But, ah well, it's not like we're trying to hide anything from them."

The energy form would flash and changed, different colors and shades mixing to form something. A strange energy signature would emanate from Karis, and it eventually formed into a human with softly glowing blue eyes, long silver hair and with robes (http://fc05.deviantart.com/fs7/i/2005/193/9/2/magicks_by_50401.jpg) that were a deep blue color. His robes also fluttered in an imaginary wind, just to reciprocate the illusion that Minagoroshi was playing with herself. Smiling slightly, he put his hands together and bowed to her.

"Greetings, your Highness. I welcome you to humble abode of my ship's hull, the Whisper of Death. A rather morbid name for our ships, but it was named during a time of war, so we felt it was appropriate to warn our enemies of what we were. Now, what can the Telrosian Ascendancy do for you? I am allowed to answer almost any question you ask."

There was a crackle, then a 'piff'. With it's back to the systems star, the miniscule wormhole would likely go unnoticed, one for its small stature, two, the fact that it's delivery was smaller than a grapefruit. It was just a Scryer probe, small inexpensive surface scanner with some rather primitive AI, that was all. Remarkably untasty or rapeable, for that matter.

As usual, they Trailarii were keeping an eye on things.

OOC: Its laughably short and vague, but it happens to be 3 in the morning, so detail can suck it.

The Kython Frigate cruised through T-Space on its way to a rendezvous with the rest of the Battlegroup. It was directed to check out some strange emissions from a variable star a few systems back while the rest of its carrier group continued upon its route. After The Diabolical had finished its duty, it Uplifted and plotted course for the rest of its fleet. As luck (or unluck) would make it, the course it had to take was across known Mekantan territory. This did not cause any hesitation for the Ta’Nar were unafraid of any nation including Neo-Mekanta or even Chronosia and considered all space to be their territory. The Diabolical plotted course directly across the territory, the shortest route they needed to take to get to the Gamma Battlegroup.

Part way through their ally’s space, the sensors detected much activity in Real Space. Shipmind immediately alerted Captain R’Lah of the situation.

Sir, I have detected possible contacts ahead in Real Space.

Really, who are they?

I cannot tell and unless we stop, we will flash by them so quickly we would not get a chance to investigate.

I see, inform the Commander of our detour and cut our velocity.

Right away Captain.

A full report is better than just mentioning their presence.

The Diabolical slowed to a halt while remaining deep within T-Space. The sensors peered down into Real Space trying to detect the ships present.

Captain, I am definitely detecting the presence of at least two Mekantan ships and an Ascendant vessel. They do not appear to be fighting. There are some others but their configuration is unfamiliar so I am not sure of their origins.

Relay the information to Commander Az’Tath. Take us to Real Space.

Moments later the 60 meter frigate faded into existence as it Emerged from T-Space into Real Space safely away from the other vessels. Sensors from the other vessels would immediately register the small ship as having the mass of a small star and energy levels would be incredible. The mass shadow of the singularities contained within the drives would make it impossible to all but the most primitive sensors from detecting the presence of the tiny frigate and as a matter of fact, the sudden appearance of the gravity well might cause them to go temporarily blind until they were reconfigured. Captain R’Lah knew the Mekantan vessel would have detected their presence before they Emerged and the Ta’Nar were known by them so he knew their ally would not fire upon them. Hell, they probably expected the Ta’Nar ship.

Captain R’Lah waited a few seconds to allow the ship to “blink and clear their eyes” before he made a contact between himself and the ship using his Psionics and addressed the Darkship.

This is Captain R’Lah of the Ta’Nar frigate, The Diabolical. We were passing by on our way elsewhere and couldn’t help but to notice the party. May we stop by and visit for a while?




-----



Across the Galaxy, a message was delivered to The Warlord as he sat upon his throne aboard The Serendipity. He read the message delivered to him through his Link by the Dreadnaught’s Shipmind.

“Hmmm… This might be interesting. Take us there; it’s been a long time since I spoke with Minagoroshi.”

OOC: As agreed upon previously with NM.

IC:

There were things that even the Mekkantans did not know about their system – like the fact that only half a light year outside it there was a large natural wormhole, leading to a completely different galaxy. And it was so their unbelievable luck that a ship had come through that wormhole recently.

It was a Sovereign-class vessel of the United Federation of Planets' starfleet, the USS Arabella. She proceeded inwards towards the system. It was not known to the crew what they were about to face. It so happened that they arrived just in time. As they approached the system, they watched in disgust as the Mekkantans destroyed Gilgamesh.

As the final Gilgameshi fell, silence fell on the bridge. Captain Joshua Narvick looked at his crew for a few minutes, and then spoke: “Ladies and gentlemen, I believe that this was a display of barbarism that, in our own galaxy, nobody would ever even contemplate – except, of course, the Borg.”

Everybody nodded agreement.

“But what worries me here is not the cruelty of this species as such, but rather – what if they find the wormhole?”

Other crewmembers gasped in horrror as they began to visualize the implications. And then, Ensign Julius Chartres – the most eager, perhaps, of all crewmembers of the Arabella – had an idea.

“Sir, we should pre-empt them! We must attack first!”

No ordinary Starfleet captain would have taken this up. The task likely violated the Prime Directive, and, of course, the ships in question were enormous – though few.

But the Arabella was no ordinary ship, it was a punishment assignment. IT had not the best, but the worst crew in all Starfleet, and each had only one desire – to do something to earn a tranfer off the boat.

Stopping an alien species just about to invade the Federation's Galaxy seemed like the way to do it.

Narvick turned to his XO. “Commander Fennik, raise shields, charge phasers. We are going in.”

Half an hour later the Mekkantans would witness the ship – tiny in comparison to their own – burst out into real space and lanch a full spread of proton torpedoes at the Darkship.

Narvick had no idea what he was messing with.

OOC: As agreed upon previously with NM.

IC:
... burst out into real space and lanch a full spread of proton torpedoes at the Darkship.


OOC:
Which Dark Ship?

'cause if it's not the one near me, I'd look pretty silly reacting to an attack ~25 light minutes away.

OOC: Stupid me, I thought there was just one. Assume the one farther from the system's sun is being attacked.

OOC:
Just as well - the Death's Harvest is a heck of alot further away than I'd thought, so it wouldn't have made much difference either way.


IC:
Scanned from T-Space, as from all non-threespace realms, the KCS Golden BB would appear as a hole in space, the volume occupied by it's ASPEW field one of non-existence. A common feature of modern ASPEW's protections, combined with the thousands-strong halo of drones no larger than a basketball each, those familiar with Kanuckistani practices would have little difficulty identifying it's nation of origin, even without the IFF beacons.

Not that it ever seemed to hinder their ECM.


----


"Attention irritating ape-jelly-mold-dog-penis people of Kanuckistan! This system is under the absolute control of the mighty and undeniably attractive Galactic Hegemony of Neo-Mekanta, and is to be redeveloped by the Zircon Swarm. If you wish to harvest the resources of this system, you will enter into negotiations aboard my warship under Mekantan law and regulation."



"...'kay." Brianna replied with some amusement, poking though what parts of the ESUS database she could access for the relevant bits on Mekantan law, as a drone departed the Golden BB's shells, "'tho it'd be 'preciated if ya'd transmit the relevant bits of Mekantan law and regulation ya alluded to - ya know, gimme something to read on the trip."


The drone in question, angling toward the Death's Harvest under rather impressive acceleration, was a rather... budget affair - a collection of repurposed gyros, old-style mini-IDD pylons, sensors, comm devices(including a powerful laser and a CTE link to it's mothership), and an old pulsed hawking reactor, along with a NAV deflector and, for some reason, a rather nice holo-emitter, all within a curiously robust(and bullet-proof) used coffee can.



Still, it would take nearly a half hour to reach the Mekantan ship, some 20 lightminutes away, and it was during this time that the Federation starship attacked.

Tho at a distance approaching half a billion kilometers, the lone vessel wasn't of much concern, the Golden BB raising half a lightminutes' worth of expensive FTLi and expanding it's outter drone halos just beyond, while not even bothering to bring it's ECM online.

OOC:

Is that the one near Telros, the Darkship, The Goddess, and my frigate?

Like Kanuk, I wish to respond correctly to the post.

OOC:

Is that the one near Telros, the Darkship, The Goddess, and my frigate?

Like Kanuk, I wish to respond correctly to the post.


OOC:
He'd be attacking the first ship, in orbit around the planet Gilgamesh - the other is in orbit around the sun(unknown distance), on the side facing the planet.

So, yes, the one near you.

OOC: I think Kanuckistan has it right. Can we now please return to our scheduled IC posting?;)

1401 Hours, January 2591 (Military Calendar)
CABNV Renown, Gilgamesh system

“Ma’am, picking up weapons fire on long-range sensors! Looks like Sierra-15 is engaging the Neo-Mekanta!” Lieutenant Kessinger’s head snapped around as she straightened up at hearing this report. Suddenly the examination of the unmanned Neo-Mekantan "flying rocks" that were transporting debris to Gilgamesh itself was no longer a concern. Someone had opened fire.

“Captain to the bridge,” she snapped at the A.I. on the pedestal, recrossing the cramped compartment with purposeful strides. Isis gave a curt nod but did nothing further. Presumably one of her subroutines was waking the commanding officer with an equally-fast report. The next move on the part of the ship’s executive officer however was one dictated by years of training and policy. “Tactical, how far are we from the combat zone?”

“Less than a hundred thousand kilometers. Range closing slowly, ma’am.”

For the last several hours the Renown had been positioning itself for an 'intercept' of one of the Neo-Mekanta smaller ships headed for Gilgamesh itself, a bold and unorthodox move given the current tactical situation. Their course actually brought them closer to what appeared to be the Neo-Mekanta flagship, for the smaller vessels had to go past the ship in order to reach the planet. Where they descended into the atmosphere for an unknown reason. It was the intention of the commanding officer of the ONI prowler to see what was going on. Firsthand if at all possible.

To get there required using the much larger “flying rocks” that had arrived as a physical cover between the Renown and the Neo-Mekanta capital ship. Nobody had any illusions about this maneuver: it was very risky flying less than fifty meters astern of a rock twice the size of the former destroyer. All nonessential power systems were dialed down to minimum output. The essential ones were running on bare-bones necessary power, and the reactor core had also reduced its output (and hence the electronic signature of the prowler, which was already as close to nondetectable as one could possibly get). Flying the ship in a reduced operating status through an area of potentially live fire only complicated things.

Lieutenant-Commander Winchester arrived quickly on the bridge. By his still-mussed hair and the blinking eyes it looked like he’d been asleep, the first sleep he’d been able to get in almost twenty-seven hours. The chair felt good to sit in after an uncomfortable and restless last few hours filled with repeatedly waking up and being unable to get back to sleep, or receiving calls from the bridge that required consultation on some matter of importance. His hands unconsciously completed fastening the buttons on his uniform jacket as he moved to stand next to the command chair. “Isis, SITREP.”

“The vessel firing is a United Federation of Planets starship,” the ship’s A.I. clarified as she waved a hand to the holotank behind the command chair. “It opened fire less than five minutes ago without provocation or without communications to the Neo-Mekanta vessel. Tactical analysis from the battle between the Gilgamesh forces and the Neo-Mekanta ships suggests they are extreme outmatched and unlikely to survive the encounter.”

She paused for a moment before continuing. "Captain, there is a Neo-Mekantan vessel now on the port bow. It appears to be towing a sizeable debris field behind it to Gilgamesh. This may be the 'ride' we have been looking for."

"Navigation," Winchester directed with a look to the overhead viewscreen, seeing the pitted-front surface with the glowing crystals. "Prepare to initiate intercept. Let it go past, then bring us up on its aft. Put that debris field behind it between the ship and us."

"Aye sir."

The lieutenant-commander drummed his fingers on the armrest of the chair as he thought for a moment. His orders were clear: avoid counterdetection and observe. Gather SIGINT (signals intelligence) and other data on Neo-Mekanta weapons, engines, shields, sensors, and all other primary systems. And most especially to avoid getting the Colonial Authority embroiled in a war. So he took the most prudent course of action. “Operations, I want system checks run on the cloaking system every five minutes. Make sure it’s working well,” he warned.

Operations looked troubled. But she gave a nod of affirmative reply to Winchester and went back to working at her panel. Ahead of them the rock was passing by, the debris field seemingly floating along behind it without a care in the world. At the stern of the ONI prowler, the engines fired to move her cloaked mass a bit faster. The debris field slowed, then began to grow in size. Slowly, very slowly.

“Another signal sir,” Isis reported as she flickered into existence atop the pedestal. “The Neo-Mekanta capital ship is in communication with a vessel farther into the system near the sun. The KCV Golden BB. The ship appears to have sent a number of smaller craft in the direction of the Neo-Mekantan vessel. Possibly drones.”

Winchester’s response was to go back to drumming his fingers on the armrest of the chair.

(OOC: Sorry for the delay. My connection died last night and I lost everything.)

-Hull, Whisper of Death

Minagoroshi smiled, nodding to the Ascendant. "You have nothing to worry about, regarding the name." She shook her head. "I am Goddess to the Mekantans. Names like 'Cleaving of Skulls' or 'Blood of Virgin Child' are standard Mekantan ship names. I find 'Whisper of Death' quite pleasant." Minagoroshi gave a fair sized pause. "Last I knew of the nation of Telros, your people had bodies..."


-Near the Kython Frigate Diabolical

Another teleportation happened off the Diabolical's bow, and in the void hung a single humanoid figure with ankle-length crimson hair and black robes.

... Oh, and a large railgun, previously the main gun of the Narwish.

Minagoroshi smiled broadly as she sent a psionic message to the Kython, her avatar waving. "Greetings, allies. I've brought you a present. Nothing much, but in working order."


-Command Core, Aryak'ze Kyruyan

The Stone's Blood took note of the incomming Federation ship, the Trailarii probe, and the Kython Frigate. Knowing Kaerii would prefer to deal with the Kanuckistani pest herself, the Trailarii would likely be disapointed to learn that the Mekantans knew about thier presence, and the Rehnaematothraak most likely wished to deal with the Kython herself, Iashya sighed and leaned back in her chair, dictating a message to the Federation for the Stone's Blood to translate and send.

It was sent, in the Darkship's omnivoice, moments later.

"Greetings, feeble ones. What you witnessed was the extermination of an insignificant system-nation that dared insult we, the Galactic Hegemony of Neo-Mekanta. We trust you are not foolish enough to make the same mistake. Come. Approach. Let us talk as civilized beings."

"Ryah'soh, nlya'kalax." Iashya nodded as she expressed her approval of the Darkship's translation. She started to get up from the throne, when a holographic "window" appeared, showing a reletively tiny saucer-headed vessel firing a spread of weak torpedos at the massive Darkship. The Aryak'ze Kyruyan didn't even bother intercepting the weapons with its main barriers, simply allowing the feeble attack to impact with its armor, disapating and barely leaving scorch marks. Iashya sat in stunned silence, slowly raising a finger and pointing at the ship. "... Nlya'za...?" ("... What...?")

"Za'kya'za." ("It is nothing.")

The Darkship's psychokinetics were nothing to scoff at. It was capable of crushing planetoids into powder or ripping chunks out of planets, or do something as delicate as stitch a wound together. Therefore when it wanted to crush something like the Arabella into something the size of a grapefruit in under fifteen seconds, it was more than capable of doing so.

It had no desire for a metal grapefruit, but it did want the pesky Federation ship to go away, so it started applying much more gentle, steady pressure, intent of smashing them slowly.


-Unnamed Zircon warship towing scrap and the Renown

The increasing weight didn't escape the attention of the Zircon Swarm. It simply released its telekinetic pull on the space junk, turned, and started scanning the scrap field. It knew precisely how much mass it had been pulling, and its ability to detect anything with a noticable mass or intelligence (or intelligence on board) was almost on par with the Mekantan Darkship, only on a smaller scale. It didn't bother waiting to detect anything. The Zircon weren't as mindless as most people thought. They knew how to bluff, and they had psionics on par with the Mekantans and thier creations in both power and precision.

Everything in the area of the debris field was vibrated telekinetically, precisely enough to imitate a Zircon speaking in Terraspeak (Standard English) as best they could without psionics.

It was a disembodied voice sounding like two rocks grinding together. Its pronounciation was off, but its words were hard to mistake. "WKEEE SEEEH YUUUU..."


-Darkship Koral'ze Korul

Kaerii resisted laughing when the saucerhead attacked the Stone's Blood, instead focusing on the Kanuckistani worm.

"Nlya'kalax - voryash'ryah'tih'ko. (Voryash'ryah'tih'ko - Lit. "Space-sound-make-order." Trans: "Open communications.") Kaerii ordered, wanting to send a message to the Kanuckistani directly.

"Tza'to."

Kaerii tried to keep a straight face, despite the audio-only transmission. "Relevant Mekantan law is that all buisiness meetings are to be conducted in person, and that the inferior party is to be confirmed as not being a threat. Mekantan law also dictates that you not be 'harmed' exceeding the restrictions of the law in confirmation, meeting, or travel once acquiescence to the meeting has been confirmed on both sides." She rattled off in perfect Terraspeak, even masking her Mekantan accent. "So really, you're safe unless you reject the meeting or it goes badly. Once you say yes, I'm legally bound not to arrest you for tresspassing and impound your ship, reduce you and the ship to subatomic particles, or do some mix or combination of the two options."

She was entirely too cheery for what some people would consider a threat. But it wasn't a threat, it was an honest declaration of options.

"I'm quite well versed in these sort of laws. I'm something of a business'keh myself. I own a small cluster of Tsthathi colonies and cull thier population for food sales, so I'm quite familiar with business practice. Perhaps while you're aboard we can talk about the similarities between plundering planets and plundering populations." She gave a short, friendly laugh, and gestured for the transmission to end.

"Hiygii'tih'za..." ("Now you're just teasing it.") The Death's Harvest remarked.

"KANUKI'za." ("It's Kanuckistani...")

"... Za." ("... True.)"


(OOC: GAH!! FINALLY DONE!!)

The Arabella was dying. It was dying a bit faster than the Mekantans have expected, but that was just because the Mekantans were not familiar with Federation technology.

The nacelle-mounted engines broke off first, thrown into the saucer-shaped hull of the Arabella, hundreds of sapients screaming in horror as integrity fields and hull alike gave way before the onslaught. One of the engines impacted near the kindergarten and school areas of the ship. That, perhaps, was even an unexpected mercy. The chidlren did not suffer for long.

Others would suffer, though – some as they were isolated in lonely compartments, gasping feebly for fleeting air, others as they were crushed to death by the hull or boiled alive in leaking coolant fuel from dozens of breaches. But even to those, the gods of luck had shown mercy. Others were less lucky.

Escape pods shot out of the ship like bullets, speeding away into a variety of directions. The people aboard still did not understand – would still take time to understand – that the men aboard the ship were far luckier then themselves. They praised whatver powers they prayed to – and most of them did not pray at all – that they escaped alive.

Aboard the Arabella, Captain Narvick was still breathing. His left eye ruptured, and a stream of blood was pouring freely out of the socket where it used to be. His face was covered in burns and bruises, and the very bridge he was on was coated in a cloak of flame. His entire body seemed to burn, as if hell's own punishment was bestown upon him for daring to attack the Mekantans – or perhaps for what fate he doomed his crewmen to. He crawled towards the control panels.

Even as he was dying, his fingers found the phaser fire control buttons, and pushed them one more time.

The men in the escape pods thought themselves lucky not to die such a death.

They believed they were going to get rescued soon.

And they were right about being rescued.

They just didn't know they were going to be rescued by the Mekantans.

-Near the Kython Frigate Diabolical

Another teleportation happened off the Diabolical's bow, and in the void hung a single humanoid figure with ankle-length crimson hair and black robes.

... Oh, and a large railgun, previously the main gun of the Narwish.

Minagoroshi smiled broadly as she sent a psionic message to the Kython, her avatar waving. "Greetings, allies. I've brought you a present. Nothing much, but in working order."



Captain, we have company. It appears a vessel is attacking the flagship.

Track it and keep me informed, it is not our place to react first, the Mekantans are the hosts here.

I understand. The alien ship of ridiculous design is firing at them. The shots are ridiculously underpowered, they would only be able to feed Kythons and do no damage.

Perhaps if we are short of energy to feed the Swarm we should go to war with them so they could suckle off their mighty war weapons. Designate them as a nursery and relay all sensor readings to Command.

Yes Captain. Oh, we have a visitor.

Where?

Outside the hull.

Thanks, I will see to our guest.

Near the bow of The Diabolical, a single ebon-robed entity hovered, her crimson hair floating in the non-existent wind until it settled near her ankles. Over one shoulder she held the railgun from The Narwish. A single shape emerged from the hull and floated forward to stand in front of the Visitor. The form was that of a humanoid also in a robe but of steel gray, the color worn by the captain of a vessel. He wore a human face but composed of light instead of flesh. It was not his normal appearance but one that resembled the being before him although masculine instead of feminine. Ta’Nar often took form of those around them to make interaction easier and as a way of compliment to those they are speaking with.

From the knowledge of Mekanta taken from the group consciousness of the Ta’Nar through the Link, R’Lah was able to retrieve the proper customs and intricate knowledge even extending back to when Nhur-Galladu first met with the Mekantans centuries ago.

Greetings, I am R’Lah. This is my vessel and on the behalf of all Ta’Nar I humbly accept your gift.

When Minagoroshi offered the massive weapon, R’Lah seized it with his thought and pushed it towards The Diabolical. As it drifted close, numerous pseudopods reached out and touched the railgun. Blackness began to creep along the barrels from where it was touched and bits and pieces of it was simply dissolved and absorbed by the pseudopods. The tentacles wrapped themselves around the device and sub-atomically converted the object into Thur’Tahg and absorbed it until there was nothing left. A few moments later, a bulge formed upon the underside of The Diabolical and began to take shape while the pseudopods retracted and disappeared. The bulge continued to form and take shape until the gift was mounted under The Diabolical.

R’Lah was at a loss of what to give as a return gift to Minagoroshi so he quickly accessed his Link while the ship was busy digesting the railgun and adding it to her arsenal. After his very brief commune he instructed Shipmind to replicate a weapon normally not used upon a frigate. After a few moments, the pseudopods returned holding a silvery object. They deposited the object to float near the Captain and retracted.

In return I wish to offer you one of our most infamous weapons. The Ta’Nar wish you to add this to your mighty arsenal and we hope our gift will be put to great use one day.

R’Lah grabbed the device with his mind and presented it to Minagoroshi. The Dimensional Cutter was passed to her.

I would also like to add my ship has detected the origin of that interloper, a small wormhole lying about half a light year away. If you would be so kind as to permit us, we would like to accompany you on the Hunt you are surely about to undertake. It has been too long since us Ta’Nar have had a decent Hunt.

I have also been in contact with my Warlord and he will arrive within ten minutes. As soon as he heard you were back he brought The Serendipity about and directed it here.

"Karis, we're detecting a strange alien ship."

"Well, what is it doing?" He could almost hear the other being trying to hold back its laughter.

"It's.....attacking the Mekantan Darkship, the Stone's Blood

There was a pause and then both shared their mental laughter. "How foolish those mortals are. We will let the Mekantans take care of it. They will be destroyed soon enough, and they like doing such things. What of their weapons?"

"Pathetically weak."

Karis sighed mentally and then told his officer to keep monitoring and don't worry about it. "By the way, the Terrans have come forward with a message, after bringing in reinforcements. They seem quite intimidated by the Mekantans."

He smiled mentally. "As they should. Keep me informed, I may need to give them a response after this."

Turning to Minagoroshi, he heard her beginning to speak. "You have nothing to worry about, regarding the name." She shook her head. "I am Goddess to the Mekantans. Names like 'Cleaving of Skulls' or 'Blood of Virgin Child' are standard Mekantan ship names. I find 'Whisper of Death' quite pleasant."

"Very true. And I thank you for the name; it was my idea to name it. I was rather tired of massacring ships, so I was hoping to scare off a few. It didn't quite work, but we liked the name."

She paused and then spoke again. "Last I knew of the nation of Telros, your people had bodies...

He nodded. "Indeed we do, milady. To cut the long story short, we left because we wanted to finish our dimensional research in peace, and ensure we did not get attacked by some radical nation wanting the piece of the dimensional pie, without working for it. So we retreated to another dimensional. We gained new technology due to the new energy source that dimension held, but we still had to war. Sometime during our stay there, we discovered how to 'ascend', and after much thought, we chose to become beings of energy. We became much like the Balroggans, but they are mental beings, while we are beings of energy. Returning to this dimension has awakened psionic powers as well, a side-effect of the technique we used to ascend. However, after our ascension, we became rather....weak in the concept of ground combat. So, one of our allies, the Xel'athi, a race of insects we 'Uplifted' as our Balroggan friends would say, agreed to serve us and serve as our ground forces. Any other questions, milady?"

-OOC-
It's late, it's been cut short, and it's hideously sub-par, but here it is.

-IC-
-Darkship Aryak'ze Kyruyan

The Darkship wasted no time bringing the Arabella's escape pods into one of its many cavernous storage bays. Its internal defenses were more than capable of dealing with the Federation prisoners, but it ordered three hundred Mekantan soldiers in power armor to the storage bay. It was a warship consciousness, but it wasn't heartless, and a bored crew of Mekantans meant having to clean up the results of attacks on other Mekantans in the corridors instead of the results of proper Mekantan slave care in the correct areas.

The Stone's Blood was something of a neat freak.

As the Mekantan soldiers filed into the storage bay, readying thier personal weapons, the Stone's Blood's psionics lashed out once again, ripping apart the escape pods with such speed an efficiency less than a second later there was no component larger than a few centimeters in diameter left, the sudden transition from safe in thier escape pods to facing down three hundred armed and armored soldiers more than taking the Federation crew off guard.

There was a single crewmember, a former security officer, who was on top of things. He tried to say, "Greetings in the name of the Federation." He got as far as "Gr" before a mass driver round tore through his head, splattering its contents and parts of his cranium on his comrades. The brutality of the act took the crew by surprise. This was no fatal, nearly markless phaser burn or even clean disintegration like they were so used to seeing.

The shock paralyzed the Federation crewmembers long enough for the Neo-Mekantans to surge forward to secure thier prisoners. One Starfleet Vulcan male managed to pull out a phaser and shoot a Mekantan soldier, only to have the beam harmlessly disapate against the soldier's power armor.


The fate of the crew of the Arabella remains unknown outside the Darkship. Those who know how Mekantans operate could only guess at the horrible truth.

What was known was that the forces behind the wormhole were no longer a mystery as a result of the atrocities aboard the Stone's Blood.

This pathetic group, this... United Federation of Planets... dared to attack a Mekantan Darkship. It would be an entertaining, if one-sided struggle to crush them underfoot.

Messages were sent to Neo-Mekanta's closest alliest first, inviting them to join in the slaughter. The Hegemony knew how to treat its friends, after all...

OOC: Separate thread here for everyone's amusement. (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?p=13413934)

OOC:
Pfft! Y'think that's bad, Mek? Watch this. (frak I'm tired... :( )


IC:
"In person?" Brianna chuckled in reply, pondering the drone - by now beyond the point of no return. Atleast, within any reasonable time frame. "Tis somewhat more old fashioned than I'd have taken Mekanta for, but I imagine ye've more... pragmatic, reasons for such, ne?" An odd undertone of wry amusement never leaving her voice.

"'course, with my corpse decorating some quasi-venusian rock's lava plains, 'in person' might be a little tricky. I've got an avatar I can shuttle over, if drone telepresence dun cut it, but I cannae exactly manifest outside Shrine grounds, ya know? Bein' dead sucks like that."

About ten minutes later space tore open, much like the foreign attack vessel. The wormhole formed, a massive one at that as the immense (by Ta’Nar standards) Serendipity poured out of the vortex, followed by her escort fleet.

Immediately after arriving, the wormhole closed as abruptly as it opened. The escort ships fell back so only the flagship of The Warlord was present sitting perpendicular to their host’s ship.


Greetings Minagoroshi, it has been some time since I last spoke with one of your heritage. May I be permitted to speak with you at your earliest convenience?


While he waited, he had been scanning through the data received from both the sensors aboard The Diabolical and the ESUS Battlenet. He had already made up his mind on what to do about the invaders. He just wanted to talk to his Mekantan counterpart before he initiated any part of his plan.

A telepathic communication was created between Nhur-Galladu and R’Lah, the captain of The Diabolical. The communication was instantaneous and mostly undetectable. Those that could detect its presence would be unable to pick out any meaning.

R’Lah

Yes My Lord?

I am going to speak to Minagoroshi. I am going to suggest sending The Diabolical through the wormhole not only as a show of faith in our allies but also as a show of force to those who would be either stupid or brave enough to attack a Mekantan ship. If they will do that, it would not be long before they would consider doing that to one of ours.

I see Warlord.

While over there, you will act as a temporary Grand Admiral. You will be granted the position and you will have all the abilities and powers of one. You will have free reign to make whatever vessels you need to complete your mission. You can exert our muscle as you see fit. You will also remain in contact with me and report the actions through The Link constantly. Do you agree?

Yes, your will is my greatest desire. I agree.

R’Lah suddenly felt his Link surge with power as it granted him access to the abilities of a Commander, then again expanded experientially as he was granted Commodore status. Still Power surged as he was elevated to Admiral Status and then to Advisor status. Each jump in status was an exponential, the sum of the previous entirety equal to the new status. As he passed through the Ta’Nar Castes, he could feel the mass of Ta’Nar beneath him and his awareness of abilities required for the status was opened for him. New abilities and new levels of abilities were suddenly revealed to his eyes. Knowledge flowed through him and he had access to the Wisdom of millennia of Ta’Nar existence. His status was elevated yet higher to Grand Admiral, of which there are only four others in existence. He knew above him there were only the two Seneschals and the Warlord himself.

He also knew he was not actually as powerful as the four Grand Admirals but being slightly less powerful was certainly good enough. To be an admiral of a fleet, one had to have the ability to destroy a world with one’s mind. It did not matter how, just that you could demonstrate it upon the necessity. A Grand Admiral was two orders of magnitude above an Admiral, it was not known the requirements needed for their position, it was kept quiet so enemies would not know what to expect but also be tortured by their imagination and rumors. The fact there were eight Advisors running around in that were more powerful than Admirals would be enough to keep enemies busy with worry.

R’Lah was suddenly overcome by his own potential and could only sit in silence as he experienced his rise in power.

Take the Diabolical through the rift and make them fear us. Make them whisper our name out of fear as in the days of old. Make them establish taboos about attacking us like from our history. Make our ancestors proud.

I will My Lord.

With that, the new Grand Admiral R’Lah left in The Diabolical for the Alpha Sector through the rogue wormhole.