NationStates Jolt Archive

Interstellar Trade Federation space station, orbit of neutral planet Frieden V

The diplomatic cruiser CKDS Entspannung glided gracefully through its orbit. Surrounding it was an honour guard of twenty-five high-level strikecraft, its pilots selected from the Commonwealth elite.

Entspannung was there on a mission. Not an aggressive or defensive mission, as such... unless you wanted to call ITF negotiations aggressive. On occasion, they could be. High civil servants had gloomily predicted that bad things would happen at any gathering involving lots of large, expensive and horribly beweaponed ships.

The orbit traffic frequency crackled, then cleared. This is Sierra Control, Entspannung, you are free to proceed for docking with the ITF facility.

With a polite reply, the gleaming jet-black capital ship slid into its assigned docking port at the ITF station. The Commonwealth had designated this station Vereinbarung in the old Neue Deutsche tradition, revived specifically to give national installations an air of robust grace.

Docking claws clicked into place in their designated locations, pressing the ship down onto its insect-like jointed landing struts. Finally, airlocks hissed open and ramps slid down, allowing one of the Commonwealth's foremost executive and diplomatic officers to stride enthusiastically down and plant her feet in the now-oxygenated port.

Christine van Ooijsten was now officially in the building.

the Nebarri Empire had heard of a supposed Interstellar Trade Federation, and always willing to find a place to get new goods, or give out their own goods, the Nebarri sent a negotiations team to possible work their way into the Federation. Not knowing the forces they would face, they prepared a sizable escort. The initial fleet though heavy for a so called “traders escort” would be relatively light overall, but in the event of trouble, two fleets where prepared to jump in and help…the first being more of a carrier force, the other a heavy strike fleet. But this wasn’t important at the time, the negotiators had arrived in system onboard the Centari…

“This is Imperial Nebarri Battleship Centari to whoever is in charge here, we are running escort for representatives of the Nebarri Empire who are hear to negotiate possible entry into a supposed Trade Federation.”

OOC:
just noticed the time, and tired as i am i think this will do

also, just for clarity my fleet is divided like so:

Initial Escort:
1 Aurora
2 Hiveships
2 O’Neil
2 Daedalus
6 Wraith
10 Prometheus
40 Al’kesh
8 Puddle Jumpers
156 Death Gliders
78 Darts
78 F-302s

Battleship/Strike force
9 Aurora
6 O’Neil
2 Origin
2 Daedalus
1 Replicator Cruiser
72 Puddle Jumpers
64 Death Gliders
32 Darts
32 F-302s

Carrier force:
8 Hiveships
5 Necropolis
26 Wraith
50 Ha’tak
40 Al’kesh
1290 Death Gliders
645 Darts
645 F-302s

Sierra Control, to their credit, responded quickly to the new fleet in the system.

"Nebarri Prime ship Centari, please proceed to docking port 302 and stand by for standard docking procedure. Since you do not appear to possess compatible hardwired landing equipment, an attractor device will be used to hold your ship in the docking bay. We apologise for the inconvenience."

In the asteroid-mounted control tower, the area tactical map showed a new projection: the Nebarri Prime ship's path in towards its bay, with equidistant points along the line, all liberally dusted with numbers. A yellow tracking reticule blinked on over the Nebarri Prime ship, drawing a line behind it as the Centari moved.

OOC: What do you by 'Semi-closed' ?

Reports had been coming into the Economic and diplomatic side's of the government about Trade federations being set up all over. Not wanting to be left out of possible trade deals to improve the economy of the interplanetary union lead by the PLANT's. A small patrol ship was dispatched with several diplomat's to one of the closer possible trade federations. They carried with them a list of various goods and domestic and industrial technologies that could be used for trade.

The small ship jumped into the system preperations already made for standard docking. The ship it's self was a Triner class patrol ship, crew of 47, lightly armed, no hanger. The ship approached the station "Attention station, This is the ZAFT forces ship Akayo we are carrying a diplomatic team and are requesting permission to dock" came a quick transmission from the ship.

tag. You guys have no idea what you're in for.

OOC: The quiet before the storm...

IC:

General Scruff McGruff was one of the proudest canines in the galaxy. This dog standing at about 6 feet and weighing about 180 pounds was the first of his pack to receive the rank of General and to get command of his own fleet. His thick brown fur hid the scars of many battles past in which he fought in to gain this great position. He could finally say, "my command, my fleet, my hounds." He smirked or did the dog's equivalent of a smirk.

"So it seems we already have a battle ahead of us, comrade Lieutenant General Lassie?" McGruff looked towards a young female besides him. She was only slightly smaller then her commander and instead of brown fur her coat was radiant with colors. A golden brown back, a white chest, plus a mix of brown and dark brown on her head.

"Yes, it does. We had orders to drill non-stop as we made our way to this location and now these civilian cargo haulers have come. They have given more ammunition then we can carry, more fuel, water, food, personnel; they have even begun to replace our worn fighters and gun barrels. This does smell fishy to me." Lassie tapped her paw onto her long snout and winked. That was the code. McGruff turned to his communications officer and nodded his head. The comms officer nodded once and began typing into his computer. Soon the entire CIC was blanketed in a load screeching noise. McGruff turned to his young 2nd in command.

"What is wrong?" He asked.

"I asked one of the Growler crews to check something out. They checked out some communications messages near by. It turns out there is a diplomatic trade meeting near by," Lassie informed her officer. Her voice so low only McGruff would be able to hear her. Noise or no noise you never know when the political officers are near by and she was too young to go to political prison. McGruff paused at the information and begun to think. After several moments he told the comms officer to turn the noise makers off.

"Good job comrade Lieutenant General. I will use this information right away to uncover this here, hmm, how should I say? Mystery? You are dismissed to your duties." The Lieutenant General walked away and General Scruff McGruff was left to his thoughts. A poltical officer walked in the CIC.

"What the bloody hounds was that noise?!" No one answered, "Fine! Comrade General I have new orders for you from High Command," it had begun...

The VNS Tuatha de Danaan, a diplomatic shuttle, veered through slipspace, shooting out into the system along with five Vuhifellian frigates. The emblem of the Vuhifellian Navy was gone, instead being replaced by the emblem of the ITF.

Those onboard the shuttle had hoped the ITF would have decided the first meeting would take place in Vuhifellian space; but recent violence throughout the Federation had left them no choice: a neutral system would best befit the peaceful purpose of the ITF compared the the violence and gore within Vuhifell.

"ITF station F-001; this is the Vuhifellian diplomatic shuttle, Tuatha de Danaan; carrying the High Magistrate of Economic Consular Affairs. Preparing docking procedures. Over."

Within the optimal safety distance from Frieden V, space buckled and ruptured as a squadron of vessels appeared back into normal space.

The leading vessel was a sight for sore eyes, a capital ship daunting in size, dwarfing even its seven cruiser escorts in size, yet also showing incredible grace as she slowed down from hyper-space drive. On the hull of the sleek vessel was painted a silhouette of an angel-like Terran female in sky blue, and the same colour marked the name of the ship: KATK Ilmatar... 'Maiden of Air'.

"Shall I establish contact with the ITF base, admiral?" came the question from the ship's soul, the AI Mekayla who appeared as a light-blue hologram on the ship's bridge. The person to whom she had pointed her question turned to look at her. Admiral Jan Niemi, a tall Northern Rangerian man and one of the few silver-haired officers of the KATK, or the National Centre for Space Research and Exploration, smiled at Mekayla's words.

"Proceed, Maiden. I'm sure you are eager to meet with your former hosts", he said, making a smile appear on the holographic lips of the AI's personal interface. She turned on her holographic pedestal, locks of hair billowing in the nonexistant wind as her comm signal was transmitted towards the ITF facility.

"Interstellar Trade Federation Station Foxtrot Zero Zero One, this is KATK Ilmatar of the Principality of Northern Rangeria. We are on a diplomatic mission. Requesting permission for docking procedures and orbit coordinants", Mekayla's soft voice greeted the station.

Admiral Niemi was slightly amazed to see the Maiden - as Mekayla was nicknamed in the KATK - smile longingly as she gazed into the vastness of space, towards the planet that was slowly creeping closer on the large view screen.

*tag for future post*

Data was scrolling across a number of screens in Sierra Control. The Cepheid cruiser was quickly directed (in standard binary code) to port 303, with a number of eyebrows being raised at the lifesigns appearing from the ship. 'Non-standard humanoids' (as the briefing officer had said) indeed.

Tuatha de Danaan was assigned to port 304, and the frigate crews' imminent protestations were quickly dealt with by assigning them to a nice protective synchronised orbit around Frieden. The small shuttle was gently pulled down into a docking bay by an attractor beam.

Finally, Ilmatar-Mekayla was acknowledged. A standard code stream directing her to port 305 was squirted across the intervening space.

One of the control crew pressed a button, only to be greeted by a denying beep. Utilising the old "keep hitting the bloody thing until it works" strategy, he was greeted with yet more beeps, merging into a steady stream. Leaning back and frowning, he waited for the beeps to stop, before calling in an engineering crew.

A few minutes later, an Engineering petty officer, directing a stream of invective at the fortunately non-transmitting comms line, his superiors, and life in general, spliced the last two wires together, and the wideband Commonwealth-only data line icon popped up on the control crewman's screen. Happily clicking it, he was rewarded with a three-foot, holographic representation of Mekayla, and vacated his seat as another man came over to speak to her: Captain Ernest Kalintern.

(OOC: Semi-closed means you have to ask for permission to post in the OOC thread.)

There was a small flash of light as three Alversian warships exited warp and proceeded for the station. Leading the way was the Dreadnought APS Camper with the Cruisers APS Devastator and APS Demon acting as her escorts. Around the small triangle of ships flew small formations of sleek, single seat XX-30 fighters, each bearing the red rose of the Alversian People's Republic. The ITF and had provided something of an interest to the Alversian People and now they were on route to the new Station in order to help establish a defense for it as well as meeting the new neighbours,

On the bridge of the Camper, Captain Andrew Stamper watched as the station loomed into view. All Alversian vessels followed the same basic design pattern, each was long, elegant and equipped with powerful phasers as well as Close Defense Turrets for when the battle really heated up. He was also watching each new ship as it arrived and making mental notes on it's designation and firepower. Many of the species had yet to be encountered and some where old friends.

"Captain?" One of the Ensigns at a nearby console inquired.
Stamper pulled himself out of his daydream and turned to face the young woman, "Yes?" He asked lightly,

"Shall I send a message for docking?" She asked nervously, Stamper had a formidable appearance and reputation although he rarely used either to his advantage.

"Yes, send a message requesting permission to dock. With any luck, one of the cruisers will fit"

"Aye Sir"


TO: ITF Space Station,
This is the Alversian People's Starship Camper requesting permission
to beam aboard personnel for diplomacy and defense requirements.

Captain Andrew Stamper
APS Camper

Mekayla's eyes immediately lit up with recognition.

"Captain... It is good to see you", the female-personality AI purred, her hand self-consciously smoothing a small ruffle in her hair - a sign of brilliance on the part of Kostemetsian and Vuhifellian programmers to make the flagship's AI as lifelike as possible. "I must admit, your contact via a Commonwealth-only channel is quite unusual. Shall I hook up Admiral Niemi as well?"

Back on the bridge of the Ilmatar, said admiral noted that Mekayla had gone into a trance of sorts. She always did that when she was dealing with a load of information. For Admiral Niemi, this bout probably meant that 'the Maiden' was busy interacting with the space station's AI. Understandable, really... Mekayla was the only fully-sentient artificial intelligence in the KATK, and as such she was bound to feel some measure of loneliness. She had made friends among the crew, and had even dazzled the Prince himself when he visited the Ilmatar, but still, she was alone.

Niemi smiled and noticed that the docking coordinates had been given.

"Admiral Niemi to escort vessels. Establish geosynchronous orbit around the planet", he said to his comms before turning to his XO. "Number One, begin docking procedures"

Slowly the Ilmatar, the flagship of KATK and the pride of Northern Rangeria, broke formation and began her approach towards the station.

"Notify Her Highness that we have reached the Frieden system."

Another databurst emitted from the station.

Starship Camper, this is Sierra Control. Please feel free to beam over your personnel. Also, Port 306 has been made available for your use, should you require it.

Over on the other side of the control room, the Commonwealth channel was still open.

"Mekayla, please feel free to hook the Admiral into the conversation. After all, what kind of host would I be if I didn't cater for my guests?"

Keying the console in front of him, he activated the metamorphic outer layer of his uniform, and the text STATION COORDINATOR flashed up on his jacket. Metamorphic clothing was still expensive, but definitely worth the price he'd paid for it.

Suddenly, one of the station crew called out. "Coordinator, we forgot one. The vessel identifying itself as ZAFT ship Akayo. It's an ee-tee, SET class designation three six November, forty-seven lifesigns. Calling it in now."

Akayo, this is Sierra Control. We apologise for the wait. Port 307 has been made available for your use - please feel free to dock.

Mekayla just smiled and another hologram appeared on the grid, this one showing an old man with the Northern Rangerian rank of admiral, judging by the line of small rosettes on his collar.

"Admiral Niemi, KATK. Captain Kalintern, station coordinator, Foxtrot Zero Zero One", Mekayla introduced the two men.

"Kalintern, eh? I remember the name. You were the one who basically handed the keys of our new fleet to Prince Mikhail, correct?" the grey-haired admiral said with a smile on his lip. "I hope the arrival of the flagship did not unnecessary ruffle any feathers."

As the Danaan docked with the station, a fairly young, beautiful woman stepped from the threshold, clothed in a navy blue hakama and a bright yellow kataginu: the official colors for the Council of the Treasury. She was escorted by two unarmed (yet still highly lethal) Vuhifellian marines.

Aside from an X-ray or similar technologies, it was impossible to tell she was a bio-android; exactly the same as her creators with the exception of her creation, and her complete innocence compared to the corruption of man. Officially, she was even a different species, with the Federal Congress designating bio-androids as Homo superior.

She simply smiled while she looked around at the space station: a monument to peace and prosperity.

"It should be interesting to meet these nations. We have not seen the Alversians since fifty-odd years past; and new allies we meet everyday. Come let us go." she nodded to the two marines, before walking over to a group of diplomat-looking men waiting over by the gate next to them. (NR, 'tis you I speak of)

"It's alright control, thank you for clearance" came the message from the communications officer on the Akayo "Helm take us in, nice and slow don't scratch my hull" the captain said jokingly. The helmsmen gave a brief chuckle "Aye sir, nice and slow" he said as he inputed and brought the ship in at the right docking port.

"Inform the diplomatic team that we are docking now" the captain asked his XO who was standing across from him "right away" the XO replied as he walked over to the door and left the bridge. He made his wall down the halls and corridors of the ship to the room the diplomats were staying. He pressed the buzzer and heard "yes?" the XO then went in "We just started docking with the station" he told them.

One of the guards looked up "Then let us prepare to leave the ship" she said standing up from her seat. The XO nodded and left the room to go back to the bridge. Left in the room where two diplomats and four guards who were full members of the crew, they would be joined by another two at the airlock once they got there.

They got up and left the room, guards in front of and behind the diplomats. As they walked towards the airlock the ship rocked as they finished docking. Two men in light flexible armour were waiting at the airlock for them. The six of them stopped at the airlock as it opened, when it did the two who were already there walked through first, followed by the others. The Diplomats had now arrived on station.

(OOC: Most peculiar, methinks I had not even docked yet ;) )

On closer range, the Vuhifellian diplomat might notice the large form of the Northern Rangerian flagship still in the middle of docking procedures. The gates were closed, as the ship had yet to dock with the station.

One of the men at the gate, however, turned and nudged his compatriot in the side. Many of them wore suits that bore resemblance to military uniforms, and two of the younger men even carried a short ceremonial blade on their belts. Each of them stepped aside, until a man dressed in navy blue and carrying the tags of Lieutenant Commander on his collar turned to look at the Vuhifellian ambassador. He was a tall man with light brown hair, his brown eyes keen and sharp.

(OOC: Haha, burn, VS :p)

Looking up at the august admiral, Kalintern grinned.

"I've got the highest-ranking feathers around, present company excepted. They don't seem too ruffled to me - of course, I might be wrong... but I doubt it. Welcome to Frieden space, sir. The only inhabitants of this system apart from the trade delegations are the permanent sensor crew who work on Frieden V."

[OOC: Ah, you BEGAN docking procedures, I see, I see. But seeing as you already created some random character for me to interact with...]

>>weapon.type>close-quarter
>lethal/non-lethal.ceromonial>non-lethal
>threat-level:1

>IFF.unknown.First Contact>>delegate.down

This was the data stream coming through the tinted visor on the marines' helmets. The only part of their skin that showed was the area around in between their chin and their eyes. All else was either covered in body armor or sensor equipment.

"Greetings, from the Vuhifellian Federation." she held up a small PDA, displaying the emblem of the Council of War; an eagle with spread-wings grasping several arrows. Around it's head were the words May Death Stir

"Oh, wrong emblem." she corrected, slapping the PDA to reveal the emblem of the Council of the Treasury. A key surrounded by a field of stars.

"I am High Magistrate for Economic Consular Affairs, Second Minister of the Department of Interstellar Trade, Special Consul to the Vice Councillor of the Treasury: Tendou Rushuna."

(OOC: Salvaging, salvaging...)

"And the 'recon' team we sent beforehand, I presume?" Admiral Niemi asked, smiling in his chair. "I trust the lieutenant commander has not been a bother for you? It is merely standard procedure to send a pre-envoy before the arrival of royalty"

Mekayla had been quiet thus far, but suddenly she lifted her gaze up. "Admiral, we have docked with the space station. The delegates have been notified", she said, turning her gaze back to the hologram of the admiral.

"Excellent, excellent. Now, captain, I believe we may have a moment while the delegates are meeting. You are welcome to come aboard the Ilmatar for some sweet sins of life", the admiral said, pulling out a cigar tube from his breast pocket. "Some vodka and a taste of the first tobacco crops of our Astra Princeps colony. And I believe our dear Maiden would also like to meet you"

If it were possible for the holographic presentation of Mekayla to blush, she would have been flushed red at that very moment.

OOC: This is in media res, so it's fairly unclear right now. With each post, it'll get more and more clear.

For reference, the Amalgamation is the alien race I'll be playing as...the Progenitors are a dead race, survived only by the manipulator-leader of the Amalgamation called the One.

IC:


875,000 Years Before the Present Day

He...was it a he, a she? Something curiously in between, or lost in flux? Whatever it is, C'is'tuna knew him...he was the prophet's call, the wraith's weapon, the seraph's guiding light. He was the One. Aptly named, the Progenitor was something far greater than the ancients - he was an individual. Unique. Soley his own. The Progenitor had never truly lived, but was grown...the individual, 28 years of age - barely an adolescent for the civilization that dominated the stars, the galaxies, the very minute fabric of space! And, yet, they couldn't defeat the one thing that struck them the most - themselves.

<His state, Contact?>

C'is'tuna's ocular nodes noted the Primarch, Ve'sto'na, entering the nexus. The governing-member Progenitor was quite a bit larger than C'is'tuna, the Contact, a simple researcher. The species was large, as far as normal organic races went - each one standing an intimidating 8 meters in height, on average. The males were quite a bit larger than the females - demonstrated in Ve's head being a quite bit higher up than Cis's.

<In transition, Primarch. Neural nodes fully connected; axons transmitting correctly.>
<That is good to hear Contact. Sentinel fleet has already fallen under their waves - I believe we have met our time's calling.>

Though despite being in the same nexus - the spatial plane that allowed communication between the two Progenitors - Ves and Cis were in reality galaxies apart. The Contact's work was sensitive in nature; the Primarch's, downright and directly brutal and defensive. Both, however, were neccessary.

<It has the Resolution. It shall not fail. The work of the Predecessors before us, who gave us this Resolution, shall not fail.>
<Wishful, consort. The entity is too strong - maybe even for it.>
<The sanctuary is in place, Primarch. We shall not - we can not fail. Not this time. Not with everything, this time, on the line.>
<More so than ourselves?>
<More so than the present temporal plane itself.>

C'is'tuna gazed down at the work below her - a swimming vortex, ready to swallow up the One. His inert form, prone upon the conduit, linked straight to the Sanctuary - and despite the Entity banging upon her Array's locale, C'is'tuna knew it had no chance now to stop her work. The Resolution would be saved, passed down, Progenitors or not. One was all it took, and so the One would be the medium.

<They sing ballads of satire at my foyer, Primarch. Their derisive jeers of overconfidence swat at my vantage point, yet I know despite the circumstances, our line is preserved.>
<Time still stands, consort. There is still time.>
<If only you said that with the confidence of the entity, Primarch.>

C'is'tuna exhaled, closing the conduit's psionic panel shut. The One's visage shone behind it, a picture of retribution and healing. His chances were the only ones left, now. The female Progenitor activated the conduit slowly, hesitating over the activation, the bubble pod of temporal weave slowly transmitting the One's self towards the Sanctuary. The exact details had been sketchy, but C'is'tuna had figured out to manipulate the Predecessors' technology enough to launch their final plan before Armageddon would be forced. Before the purge.

And the One would have the story. The Resolution. The purpose.


* * * * *


Present Day

Oh, how the constituents of the Amalgamation had once been. Savages; little more than animals with vestiges of sentients. These mere interstellar beings that populated the great void that had once been the carpet of the Progenitors sickened the One to his very core. Even the Amalgamation - his very shapings of evolution - were so far from the perfection of either absolute, whether black or white, north or south. What did they affect? What quake did each tread of their feet stem? What ripples of very space and time did each thrust of an appendage stir? Nothing. Simply, nothing. As if nothing but bacteria amongst a void of a world.

The Resolution. His ancestors had failed - had they truly believed he, the One, would follow their ancient, misguided principles? Their selfless belief in a mantle passed down from the Predecessors, long since dead from the same Entity that had killed off the Progenitors - all but one. Yet the Entity persisted - the One had fought it. Unlike the Progenitors, the One was shrewd, canny, strong, and foremost, without reserve. Maybe the Resolution that had been as if programmed through his neural networking of brain and neuron explained that life was precious, something to be treasured - but what was it in the face of raw, naked power? It was nothing but a tool, and the One had understanding where his ancestors had but ignorance.

But the galaxy he had targeted had a key. The key, long since burried beneath the sands of history, long since hidden by the secrets of the Predecessors to restrict the total victory of the Entity. They had not followed him - too busy seeking something else to worry themselves with his treasure hunt. The Amalgamation loved their deity's words - their return to their own ancestral homeland in the galaxy so distant from the one they had devestated in planned civil war with the Synits, now destroyed. The Amalgamation would follow him to the ends of the void and to the galaxy he believed held the key - merely another white spiral in space, yet one special and unique in what it should have.

The Amalgamation was his tool, however, and the One understood this. Their very existence was something to flex to circumvent what was unfortunately already present in the galaxy - scum upon the boots of space, unworthy sentient species. Not far from the Amalgamation, truly, but the One had at least shaped his minions, his pawns, to reflect the dark kernel of his soul. The Resolution be damned! The Progenitors had died so long ago - and if they had not kept true to their long list of malintentioned beliefs, than the One would not be cleaning up their mess.

The One knew these kind of "sentients" that were confined to the galaxy he was fast on approach to, aboard the vastly superior vessel far greater than anything the Amalgamation had - a relic, yet still with the power to manipulate, conquer evolve. The ancient Progenitor Assimilator had once been simply one of the stronger classes of ships in the Progenitor armada, one of many in the ancient Containment fleet. What a blessing that the Progenitors had left him with a vessel to carry out his work with him on the Sanctuary! Its very presence had blackened the skies of the Amalgamation's homeworld milennia ago, winning the mere sentient race's hearts and minds. They were barely independent now, tied to his very word and whim. The One was the Amalgamation.

Their prophets, the supposed guides that connected every member of the Amalgamation to the One himself, concocted images of retaking their ancient homelands from the synthetic beings who resided in the galaxy that the One had pinpointed the key to. Synthetics...the enemy of the race he had crafted, one locked completely, and ironically, in the manipulation of life! The very thing the One was so quick to destroy, to be rid of, to toss aside like a rag doll, was the very core component of his puppet race. The race supposedly in control of a greater plan by some greater God...yet unknowingly simply a pawn in a greater conflict that had stretched millions of years.

And unfortunately for the beings of the coming galaxy, the Amalgamation was following the word of their God on a path of divine blaze and destruction against any and all heretics. Clash was guarenteed; diplomacy, nonexistant.

"Normally, I'd decline - but at a time such as this, there's no chance that I'll pass up the opportunity."

Deactivating the visuals at his end, he pulled a microphone from its place on the side of his command chair. When he keyed a few buttons, his microphone came on, with green lights flashing all over the inside of the station.

"This is Sierra Control Command. Alpha shift, you are to be relieved by Gamma shift at 1500, five minutes from now. Engineering, please prepare P-Unternehmen for departure."

Keying the visuals at his end again, he smiled triumphantly at the Northern Rangerians.

"That's ten-four, Admiral. You'll have to tell me about this recon team some time."

Planets burn, and blood spilled in endless waves. Countless bodies filled the morgues of various planets and ships, and the strewn wreckage of battling fleets were enough to fill entire systems. But still, the Great War continued to be fought, with its two players too stubborn to back down. For one, too many lives had been lost, too many sacrifices had been made, for it to not seek anything but a total and utter victory. To assure that it had completely annihilated its enemy. The other was fueled with a primitive desire for conquest, to reproduce and conquer. Both had clashed earlier, with the former nearly falling to its doom, save for its technical genius and foresight. Now....now the war raged on, but it had moved to the latter's doorstep.

Such it was that the Kelauan Dominion sought to crush the Arl'skich. However, they had managed to get to a point where they had rebuilt and secured their worlds against the Arl'skich, and could begin to come out of isolation. Contacts were being extended to other nations and allies were being sought; the less Kelauan blood spilled, the better. So, when word came of this Interstellar Trade Federation, the Dominion sought to become part of this. An escort was sent, a rather large one for the Dominion, as they were sending one of their most senior and important ambassadors to the station this meeting was being held.

A message had been sent ahead two hours earlier of their arrival, and right on the dot, they appeared exactly two hours later with their fleet. A single Keldabe-class Battleship (http://images.wikia.com/starwars/images/0/03/Kedalbe_Final.jpg), the Relentless, along with two Progenitor-class Carriers (http://www.classic-space.com/plugins/autogallery/Gallery/BigShips/5160_1100008971_large.jpg), a single Assault-class Heavy Cruiser (http://www.classic-space.com/plugins/autogallery/Gallery/BigShips/artwork.jpeg-19.jpeg), two Guardian-class Destroyers (http://www.classic-space.com/plugins/autogallery/Gallery/BigShips/AFFfox-demoshot.jpg), two Shield-class Light Cruisers (http://www.classic-space.com/plugins/autogallery/Gallery/BigShips/concept_Vfrigate.jpg), and three Aggressor-class Frigates (http://www.classic-space.com/plugins/autogallery/Gallery/BigShips/pleh.jpg). The ambassador, simply known as 'Kathis, was aboard the Relentless, and he stood on the bridge next to the Captain. The strange thing one would notice is that all the Kelauans wore some kind of body armor, they were of varying levels, especially when compared to the Captain's and the Ambassador's own, but they still wore them. They also looked very interesting; they had slitted eyes, like a feline, their hair was silver, and their skin was a permanent dark green color. They were bulky, tall, and muscled; they were obviously genetically enhanced. It would be an interesting encounter, to be sure.

"ITF Station, this is Captain Taetius of the Dominion Battlecruiser Relentless. I am here with the High Ambassador of the Dominion, to partake in the conference. We ask for permission to send over a shuttle with our representative and his bodyguard, over."

The young Terran officer nodded. "Lieutenant Commander Elias Sund, of the Northern Rangerian KATK", he said politely, extending his hand in greeting to the Vuhifellian.

***********************************************

"Just a figure of speach, with the 'recon team', I assure you", Admiral Niemi said as he pocketed the cigar again. "To my understanding the Principality dispatched Lieutenant Commander Sund and half a dozen diplomats to your station, no more than few days ago. I trust they have not troubled you when evaluating the station security?"

Sierra Control
A young Gamma-shift commander, his new third pip shining on his shipsuit collar, keyed out a message to the Dominion space group.

Relentless, this is Sierra Control. Port 307 has been made available for your use. Please coordinate your escort vessels to maintain a station-synchronous orbit.

Chattering ran through the room freely. The somewhat unfortunate Council of War blunder by the Vuhifellian representative had become a lively topic of discussion - many people were speculating on whether Federation and Principality forces would pull their weapons on each other.

P-Unternehmen
Maintaining a constant holo-channel to the Principality vessel, Kalintern smiled.

"They've not troubled us... not as far as I know. It's nice to be complacent."

Starship Camper, this is Sierra Control. Please feel free to beam over your personnel. Also, Port 306 has been made available for your use, should you require it.

A quick flash later and Stamper was aboard the station. He had with him an Ambassador and Diplomat of Alversia who was to partake in the first IFT conference. The man was older but warm and friendly looking. He seemed to be enjoying himself already. With them was Stamper's First Officer, Cassandra. or Cass for short.

The three Alversians moved through the station looking for someone to show them the way. They were lucky to have three warships as Alversia was still recovering from the gutting attack of the SASM on their homeworld. It was this that had also cooled relations between the Vuhifellians and the Alversians. It had been the SASM that destroyed their homeworld in the first place.

"This will be an interesting reunion" Stamper muttered to himself.

A young lieutenant JG moved quickly down to the Alversians.

"Welcome to the station, Captain Stamper, First Officer Cassandra, sir, ma'am. Where would you like to go? Would you like some refreshments?"

"Welcome to the station, Captain Stamper, First Officer Cassandra, sir, ma'am. Where would you like to go? Would you like some refreshments?"

"We're fine, thank you" Stamper replied as he looked around the room in which he was standing, "We would like to meet the Vuhifellian diplomats if they are here" he stated, "We have a lot to talk about"

The lieutenant appeared to sense the chill in the air, and quickly led the Alversian group over to the Vuhifellian delegation. Something was telling him (well, screaming at him) that it might not be a good idea, but that was for the CCTV operators, and by extension Sierra Command, to judge.

Quickly making his excuses, he scurried off down a narrow, treadplated corridor. He hadn't joined the Navy to be a peacemaker, and he wasn't intending to start being one now. That was for Captain Kalintern and his underlings. If only Admiral Jackson were here...

As soon as the Alversians were led to the Vuhifellians, they gave a polite bow,
"It is good to see our friends from the olden stays are well" Stamper stated, hoping the statement didn't provoke the resentment of the Delegates in front of them.

Space shattered. It was the only way to describe the slight burst of radiation that heralded the arrival of the Setian delegation. 7 ships strong, it was practically a fleet in its own right, which was only fitting for the commander of an entire quarter of the Anderman empire. Some would argue that 7 ships was too little in other navies, but the 13 kilometer long battleship of General Khane begged to differ, as did the Cruisers and Destroyers that supported it.

This is the setian Battleship Powerslave requesting clearance to send across our delegation.

After stepping onto the station the diplomats looked around "So I guess we find our own way around eh?" one of the diplomats said "I guess so, well its not hard to pull up a map" the other one said spotting a computer console. She walked over to a consoler and the others followed and she studied the display to figure it out. Before long she figured she had it figured out and began to find the conference room.

It took her several minute to find it but she found it none the less. She turned to the others "There it is, let me transfer it to my hand held and we can get moving" she then pulled a small device that looked like a pen, she held it up to the console and then a holographic display appeared from the small device and she began transferring the map. It only took a few seconds to do so, when it was done they all began walking "Alright this should be interesting" the other diplomat said.

P-Unternehmen
Maintaining a constant holo-channel to the Principality vessel, Kalintern smiled.

"They've not troubled us... not as far as I know. It's nice to be complacent."

"Very good. Lieutenant Commander Sund can be somewhat overzealous from time to time. It is good to hear he has managed to keep that trait of his personality under check", Niemi chuckled. He cast a glance towards Mekayla, the AI having remained silent while "the men were talking".

"I will not trouble you any further, captain, seeing as how the near-space around Frieden V is apparently teeming with diplomatic vessels and escorts. If you are in need of assistance, do not hesitate to contact me. Niemi out."

The holographic image of the silver-haired admiral disappeared, leaving only Mekayla on the hologrid. It was no wonder that the Northern Rangerians had named her ship after the mythological spirit of the air: Mekayla's choice of personal interface was that of a tall, beautiful woman, her skin pale blue, her hair silvery white. The long curls flowed down her body, constantly moving in an unseen wind.

Relentless, this is Sierra Control. Port 307 has been made available for your use. Please coordinate your escort vessels to maintain a station-synchronous orbit.

"Understood, Sierra Control. Relentless, out."

The rest of the escort fleet slowly turned away from the Relentless, and began to enter a synchronous orbit with the station, with several squadrons of interceptors being deployed to help them patrol. Their weapons and shields were off-line, but the Dominion didn't want to take chances with that. Being a nation at war, they were rightly somewhat paranoid. Captain Taetius sent the order for the Relentless to move into the specified port for their ship. Which was going to be rather difficult, considering it was a staggering 775 ft. long. However, they would make it work. The ship slowly eased itself into the dock, and waited for the umbilical to attach to the ship.

The Captain turned to face the High Ambassador. <"Are you sure about this, Kathis? This is quite a risk for us and for them. If the Arl'skich find out about this-"> He paused when Kathis held up a hand.

<"Do not worry, old friend. The Arl'skich are too busy worrying about our invasion of their space to come looking for us. You just keep watch on the other fleets and for anything coming into space in a hostile manner. I will take care of this trade organization meeting. Besides, we do need the contacts and the trade of other nations.">

Taetius sighed. <"I hope you are right. Good luck; your bodyguard is waiting for you.">

Kathis nodded and left, making his way to the elevator, which would take him to the entrance of the cord, where he met his bodyguards (http://videogamejocks.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2007/05/UT3screen.jpg) were waiting. (Note, they aren't humans, just couldn't find a good picture for them.) There were five soldiers, wearing the body-armor for the soldiers of the Dominion Army, and wielding the heavy modular repeaters that were common weapons of the Dominion. It was a two barreled weapon, with one barrel under the other. One was designed as a gauss gun, fire armor-piercing rail spikes at high speeds, the other was a high speed energy rifle barrel, which fired large bolts of plasma at foes. With an equipped grenade launcher, it was a multi-purpose weapon and served well. One of them stepped forward and saluted.

<"War Captain Sartis, sir. Are you ready to proceed?">

Kathis nodded. <"I am, War Captain. Let's go."> The squad took position in a protective circle around him and they entered the umbilical. Soon enough, they passed through the doors at the end, into the station, where Kathis slowed down, cautiously looking around for some kind of guide or representative.

The Alversian delegation bowed low, and Tendou returned it; equally deep.

One of the marines, his sensor equipment quickly analyzing the Alversian anatomy, grasped her hand.

"Ma'am. They're kind is on the IFF registry. Alversians ma'am. First contact was forty-five years ago. The 'unmentionable' incident."

"Ah. I see our two civilizations have met before. Alversians, if I am correct? I apologize, but I had no knowledge that our two nations were once allies, such knowledge has been deemed 'unmentionable'."

The diplomatic team after a nice walk made it to the conference room. They then simply went inside, hopefully some one would be there. Meanwhile back on the ship the crew was busy gathering sensor data on all the ships coming in and cataloging it. When the Relentless showed up the sensors almost crashed from such a large contact, a ship of the Akayo's size wasn't meant to process that much raw data from one object. The captain looked at the sensor data "My god its massive, nothing we have can compare at all" he said out loud to the bridge crew "indeed it is sir, but the bigger they are the harder they fall" his XO said to him as he looked at the data coming in.

Data was scrolling across a number of screens in Sierra Control. The Cepheid cruiser was quickly directed (in standard binary code) to port 303, with a number of eyebrows being raised at the lifesigns appearing from the ship. 'Non-standard humanoids' (as the briefing officer had said) indeed.

A bright flash was the only warning the trade station had before a Mu Cephei Growler appeared. It's thrusters on only a quarter of it's full strength, but it would still show up on any passive sensor worth it's name. However, just as it appeared on said sensors something went wrong...

The basic idea of a passive sensor was to detect a ship by looking for heat, radiation, or an engine's exhaust. All of which could easily be found around the ship or in the ship be looked for. That is how the electronics countermeasures worked. A device on the Growler produced so much radiation that it confused the long range sensors on a ship into thinking that the Growler, and it's surroundings, were just one big ship. At close range the sensor's could 'burn' though it and their sensors' would detect the Growler though, but nothing can be prefect now can it?

Major Spike, a German Shepherd, wiggled in his 'jumpsuit.' The bulky suit protected him and his fellow crew members from the radiation, but not so much from the heat which was made by the large amounts of radiation. Which is why he was panting like a dog and hoped this would only take a few minutes. He barked in his radio four times. Another crew member in the back of the craft nodded and pressed a few keys on his computer.

Outside the station in which the meeting was be held something disconnected from the Growler. It didn't produce any large amounts of radiation, energy, nor did it have an engine exhaust to speak of. All in all it was like a rock in space even though it wasn't. Back inside the Growler the same crew member who put in the command into the computer to release the unknown object "woofed" at the message he sent to the station.

Thanks for the offer to dock, but we are just fine staying here.

The Growler backed away from the object slowly. Spike maneuvered his Growler so that the electronics officer could get a clear look of their handy work. Prefect was the response he got from the officer. The probe looked lifeless just as planned. A delay fuse inside the probe would turn it on after an hour or so. It would collect all the data it could and send it back to the fleet.

Why Major Spike and his crew were ordered to do this, he did not know. The purpose of that probe was also a mystery to him, but like any good soldier he obeyed his orders.

For now, they waited for a response from their new found "friends."

OOC: The Growler is my version of the EA-6 Prowler in space if you were wondering.

875,225 Years Before the Present Day

Tactical Log of the Adamant Medium , third primary adjunct of Progenitor Containment Fleet.

The Entity struck H67T at standard time 600, the defenders being overrun quickly in orbital combat. Containment and Inhibition Fleets sent to relieve siege placed by attacking force at standard time 618, estimated at 2,856 supraluminal attack spheres and 884 assault spheres. Relief arrived at approximately standard time 658 after approximately 504,920 enemy combatants had landed on the surface of H67T. Combat followed, both in orbit between relief fleets and the Entity's formation and H67T's defenders and the Entity's assimilated combatants.

Approximately 731 supraluminal war vessels comprised the relief fleets in engagement against the enemy, engaging the opponent at standard time 701. Enemy combatants on the ground besieged the capital approximately one standard minute later, trapping the defenders within the citadel of H67T. Despite having the weapon and technological edge, the sheer numerical advantage of the enemy - nearly a 5:1 outnumbering - proves the strength of numbers by destroying 42 vessels of the relief forces within the first two standard minutes.

The Entity is relentless. Its fighters press on despite the overwhelming odds of the relief fleets in orbit, and continue their mission of extermination one soul at a time. The Entity's assimilated forces breach the citadel at standard time 712 and begin assimilation procedure approximately 3 standard seconds later. At this time purification processes are deemed necessary by Containment authority. Losses in orbit for the opponent near proportions of .5 by standard time 718.

The Entity's losses are complete by standard time 746. Planetside, defender losses approach 84.2%. Authority recommendations to evacuate clean centers are in vain; the Entity is too strong and quickly overwhelming the planet with assimilation efforts. The orbital battle was merely a diversion. H67T approaches 91% losses when purification is initiated; a polaron initiator fired at the system's star. Losses are guaranteed and the Entity will be wiped clean from the system with total initial losses on each side; additional losses to the relief fleets total 155 individual vessels.

~Day 6,833 of Entity Contact


* * * * *


Present Day

The subspace breach forming the boundary of the galaxy may have been a tricky proposition for any mere interstellar race, but the Undying Requisite - a tribute to times long past - had no trouble whatsoever performing what amounted to a routine movement. Ironically classified before contact with the synthetic Entity, the Assimilator - an analogy to a frigate in the Progenitor fleet of old - did nothing comparable to the heinous actions of the artificial machine opponent of the One. It ended life quickly and mercifully with the technology of the ancient race of transsentients, rather than converting it into a simple instrument as the Entity did.

Even more ironically, however, was that as the Amalgamation preached the abhorrence of machinery of all sorts, the Requisite - manned only by the One and a Progenitor intelligence, Recusant Balance - was the only synthetic ship of the entire Amalgamation flotilla. That had been something that the Amalgamation had come up with originally on their own from fighting the Synits in their own galaxy, but now pushed by a supposed God of their people back to a supposed homeland and told of artificial life to be pure evil, the Amalgamation were only that much more motivated. The One's "metal beast" of a ship was something of an encouragement - particularly how it outgunned any Amalgamation ship with just one-eighth of its conventional weapon systems.

The Progenitor vessel wasn't big by any standards - in fact, it was one of the smallest vessels of the Amalgamation's massive galactic invading force at a mere 370 meters. The old Progenitor attack frigate, however, shared little of frigates of modern day - by comparison, the ship could easily handle one of the massive 100km-radius Home Ships of the Amalgamation with an array of weaponry on the technological level not seen since the Progenitors traversed galaxies. The defenses of the vessel were beyond formidable; its capabilities beyond mere normal sapient understanding. It required more than understanding.

Designed to combat the innumerable legions of the Entity back in the final decades of the Cluster War between the Local Cluster's resident two powers in the Progenitors and the Entity hundreds of thousands of years ago, it had been the one object that the One had prized the most when he woke from stasis six hundred thousand years ago. With genetic engineering and synthetic enhancements, age was barely any affliction to the One - it concerned him not. No, his focus was on his enemy, and what he had to do - anything - to destroy it.

It was almost a shame that the galaxy the Amalgamation invasion fleet was now entering through would be the next victim on what was overall a just crusade on a much larger scale, but mere lives in the billions and trillions were barely the bat of a primate eyelash for the One. Especially not when the Entity was dealing in much higher numbers - the Armageddon itself had cost more lives than these primitive sentients could even fathom.

But as it was, the Amalgamation was the instrument of the One's bidding in the grander crusade. They were shockingly loyal and devout to what they saw as a divine mandate, and fell straight into the One's need for a client race to perform his dirty work. After all, it would take far too long for the Undying Requisite to eliminate every single lesser sentient standing in the way of what was ultimately their greater good - no, the One needed a short-sighted race like the Amalgamation for tasks like that. Tasks like this.

The last surviving Progenitor hated the biological warships of his minions. The pure life that they exhumed - it was sensory overload, almost. The Progenitors maintained balance on all factors, and as much as the One laughed at his ancestors - he was, after all, the pinnacle of what they had achieved - he still, nonetheless, fell into their stereotypes. In the cosmic struggle against the Entity, seemingly always on the attack, the One still fought for what was not only his own purpose, but something of a purpose of a higher good, even if it involved sacrificing many to get to what he wanted to accomplish.

The Undying Requisite personified the balance of the Progenitors. Neural circuitry completed mundane functions far faster than any mere synthetic computer of the modern, inferior galactically-tied civilizations could produce, constantly forming new pathways and heuristics to greater power. One the other extreme, Recusant Balance was a tribute to the power of synthetics the Progenitors had mastered in a completely artificial intelligence - yet beyond the normal comprehension of the standard species, once more. Rather, Recusant Balance instead nearly shared all the transsentience that the One himself held.

The AI had the power to evaluate, to decide, to execute, to judge. It was less of an advanced, personable assistant - and more to the One as a powerful subcommander that executed effects to the greatest possible ability within the knowledge of the last great civilization to rise in the Local Cluster. More so to the One, Recusant Balance - despite all "his" logic and cold instantaneous calculations - was somewhat of a friend to the One. The AI had at first been somewhat hostile back at Sanctuary hundreds of thousands of years ago, but over the sheer amount of time the two had spent together they had melded to a point of intense emotion. It was one advantage that the One considered biological life to always hold over the synthetics - emotion.

There was always the technological ends of things that the One considered himself the forerunner of, as well. The interior of the Undying Requisite was a testimonial to the technological superiority of the nearly-extinct ancient race. Rather than having decks and the like of starships of a standard species - indeed, much like the ships of the Amalgamation - the Requisite, rather, was suspended in what seemed a fluid matrix. Rather than an actual semi-solid, however, the fluid was an atmosphere, parted by bridges - it was a spatial matrix, a slice of technology from eons ago that allowed the Progenitors their uncanny ability to enter varied spatial planes. The Entity, unfortunately, had developed something shockingly close during the final days of the War, so that the Progenitors were ultimately doomed. But as of now, however, the One felt safe and secure within the open space of his vessel.

A command center of sorts was the only remarkable feature inside the Requisite - a hub of sorts that allowed the One to interface with all the Amalgamation at once, directing and controlling. Recusant Balance used a similar method, the AI itself able to "flow" through the spatial matrix of the interior of the vessel much like a non-corporeal being. The matrix was quite accommodating to life - rather than drowning in nature, it was certainly breathing, even nourishing to take in, calming anxieties and clearing minds. The Requisite was, in sort, the One's personal retreat as it was his command center - and for special things, it was his arena to stun the Amalgamation leaders and once again show them the powers he held.

Most of the time, however, it was simply he and the Challenger-class Progenitor AI, alone in space that was so far below their abilities it stunned their minds. Take the galaxy they entered, for instance - Recusant Balance had remarked that it was almost worth pity, the creatures of the galaxy. They were victims trapped in the middle, either doomed to annihilation that would be wreaked by the Amalgamation or, if that would be spared, assimilation from the Entity when the One's opponent crashed through.

New information shot through the spatial matrix of the Requisite now as the present pushed on - one of the Amalgamation's little "probes" out to pick up data on where the One wanted to start out. The last Progenitor wanted information - something his former civilization obsessed about winning, and he figured that information could come from large groupings of societies. The galaxy here had been largely ignored recently by the One, and re-entering it slightly disoriented wasn't the best start. The exploratory bug from one of the Home Ships had returned from scouting out a system some parsecs away.

The One liked what he saw - a lot of ships and a large spatial hub of sorts. It was clearly of a Class 7 or lower civilization - certainly not the Class 3 rating the Progenitors had assigned themselves, or the Class 1 of the Predecessors, ancient and unimaginably powerful even for the Progenitors. Interstellar civilizations weren't the most fun to hang around, but the One wasn't about fun - he was about doing a job. The Resolution was clearly a failure (though Recusant Balance would debate that), yet finding the Key - the One had tracked it to this galaxy - would end his troubles. Wipe away the Entity forever and accomplish what his ancestors had failed. From his own, the One could re-create the Progenitors down to the nucleotide sequences - in his own image.

But the real key would be any captured sentients. They could know what he was seeking - the Key, a Predecessor device created by the race just before their own destruction by the Entity (conveniently their own creation), hidden so the Entity would never find it. The Entity had hibernated and reawakened to destroy the Progenitors before they had found it, but the One was determined not to fail. Any sentients could very well know of what the Key was - supposedly a supermassive star insignificant to the synthetic node, but something of such natural beauty - far more than a standard star - that would attract any artisitic organic. A little too beautiful - artificially beautiful, indeed. The aesthetics of the Predecessors.

But the ships arranged around the station that the feed of the intelligence bug revealed wouldn't be a problem...especially if the One "personally intervened" here. Wasteful destruction was something the Progenitor never liked; it was, after all, a waste, inefficient. The station could also likely hold some clues - maybe the Amalgamation could board it and see what they could glean from station computers.

Either way, the One had figured out his first move of finding the Key - maybe, just maybe, these sentients gathered in the system several parsecs away would make his task, one that had been maintained for thousands upon thousands of years, a slight bit closer to closing. As he plugged in a slipspace conduit to numerous vessels of the Amalgamation fleet - obviously, they weren't bringing the entire fleet, which was far too numerous, but enough to ensure victory - the One had to smile upon fortune. It had been fortunate to unearth the secrets of this galaxy; maybe the sentients had some too.

As it was, a slipspace corridor opened up, the vessels designated for assault - and the One pushing the Undying Requisite along with it - moving into the conduit. Slipspace was a bit of a slow process, but the One preferred using it in this scenario - he wanted some time to figure out several moves upcoming.

Z.A.F.T. Force's Apallo fleet yards
In orbit above Empyion
12:04 local time

A small transport shuttle approached the fleet yards "This is shuttle S-24, requesting permission to dock"

"Roger that S-24, welcome to Apallo fleet yards"

The shuttle came in and docked with the fleet yards. The pilot turned around "Alright commander this is where you get off" he said as the hatch for the shuttle opened. The officer he was transporting was the captain of a ship just finishing up construction. The commander stood up "thanks for the ride Ensign" he said.

"Any time sir"

The commander left the shuttle and stepped onto the station where his XO was waiting for him. The shuttle door closed behind him and he looked at his XO "Status?" he asked. The two began to walk down the corridor to there ship, as they did they passed a series of glass windows where the ship could be seen. The two stopped and looked out "So it is still in the field?" the captain asked "Yes it is, while the main super structure was built traditionally, the rest was done with the matter assembly system"

"Amazing feet of industrial technology, creating a energy field of the object and then have all the material along with nano bots injected into the field to have them assemble it in no time"

"Yeah, they say in a war time situation they could pump a ship like this out of the yards every four days"

"But thats if we had the ability to gather resources that bloody fast, any way how long till its ready?"

"Should be another 15 minutes commander, then she'll be good to go weapons and all"

"What a age we live in, come on I believe i owe you a drink its time i paid up"

"Yeah it is"

The two continued walking, heading for one of the hubs were they could relax until the ship was done. The ship yard was large, four hubs held it together with many docks attached to service and build ships big and small.

OOC: Just getting into whats going on with the man who will be the first to fight, and his crew

Frieden system, outer edge
The smoothed, hundred-metre-length shining silver blade of a specialised Sternemaster-class personal cruiser slipped into the system, just shy of the outer rim. A casual observer (assuming that observer had an armoured spacesuit, a reasonably distant vantage point, and an overabundance of chutzpah) would have seen blue lights briefly blink around the poles of the spherical engines, then would have had to look away as searing plasma flame speared from hidden apertures in those same spheres.

The plasma flames would converge to move the ship at an eminently reasonable cruising speed, which, incidentally, it was currently moving at. Gracefully rolling every so often to avoid the more dangerous-looking meteoroids, it followed a gentle but speedy trajectory in towards the station.

At around two hundred and eighty thousand kilometres, the Sierra Control facility began to ask the ship's system automated queries. The system responded within five milliseconds, transmitting two items - a golden Old Republic Navy shield and a single word: Mariner.

The queries immediately ceased. An encrypted stream of binary code directed the ship to special dock alpha one, which the system immediately set course for. A few minutes later, the docking was done.

The station's command facility locked onto the ship. If one was inside the sparsely manned facility, one could see on the main screen an intricately detailed cross-section of the starship. If one looked closer, however, one could see a circular green blob moving through the ship's corridors at a speed of six kilometres per hour. Doors opened and closed before it as it made its journey to the fore airlock.

Finally, that airlock was opened. A rather normal man stepped out. To be precise, rather normal except for the fact that he appeared to be a twenty-one-year-old Admiral of the Commonwealth and Territorial Navy. Appearances weren't everything.

The man was actually in his early sixties. He had served brilliantly in two major interstellar wars, for which ribbons and awards had been piled upon him. He had commanded many ships, and defeated a hundred times more. His name was known throughout Kostemetsia.

That name was James Jackson.

Apallo Fleet yards

The two sat down at the bar and both ordered drinks. The holographic projector had the sports channel on so the two watched while they enjoyed there drinks. On the channel was a College football game, Zodiac State Vs Empyion U, it was a close game and the two comrades had differing opinions. The commander looked up "So Zodiac State is winning, well thank god for that"

"It's only by a field goal, Empyion U can still win it" the X.O. said as he sipped his drink.

"Na we got a solid defence this year, not a chance in hell your Empyion U will win"

"Thats what you said last time they played a game captain"

"heh it's different this time, I'll tell you that much"

"You said that last time to"

"Ah quiet you" the captain said jokingly as he sipped his drink.

The Alversian delegation bowed low, and Tendou returned it; equally deep.

One of the marines, his sensor equipment quickly analyzing the Alversian anatomy, grasped her hand.

"Ma'am. They're kind is on the IFF registry. Alversians ma'am. First contact was forty-five years ago. The 'unmentionable' incident."

"Ah. I see our two civilizations have met before. Alversians, if I am correct? I apologize, but I had no knowledge that our two nations were once allies, such knowledge has been deemed 'unmentionable'."

Stamper nodded in understanding. It had been a short Alliance at best, then the 'unspeakable' event occured. He knew there were Vuhifell that still felt a bitter resentment towards Alversians for that,
"We understand your loss" he stated, "We have only just started to recover ourselves from that incident"

As the Northern Rangerian flagship finished its docking procedures, the door leading from the docking area to the room where the diplomats were discussing hissed and began to roll aside.

Lieutenant Commander Sund was first to react. "Riviin, järjesty! Asento!" he commanded quickly, and maybe to the surprise of others, even the few diplomats in this waiting group formed a line by the door, standing as straight as soldiers.

Soon, two figures appeared from the doorway. A young woman, probably no more than twenty-five in age, wearing a dark blue businesswoman's attire that also complimented her appearance greatly. Beside her, a dark-haired man, a few years older than than her. The man had a soldier's bearing, but his attire was that of an aide, a ceremonial uniform in black, along with knee-high soldier's boots. Both were carrying ceremonial knives on their belts.

"Ylhäisyys, herra Savajev", the lieutenant commander began, saluting the pair. "Tervetuloa. Odotamme yhä aseman edustajia."

The language was distinctly Terran, but not one of the more prominent languages by any means. Should any of the other delegates have adequate translation technology, they might recognize the language. Rangerian, a Finno-Ugric language. Your Highness, Mr Savajev... Welcome. We are still waiting for station representatives would be the rough translation of the young officer's words.

Apallo Fleet Yards

The commander finished his last drink "Well, that was great but time to head back to the ship, put it all on my tab" the commander said pulling out his Z.A.F.T. forces ID card and swiping it into a machine which put the drinks on his tab. He then stood up and fixed his uniform "Well come on" he said to his XO as he began walking out. The XO quickly stood up and followed to catch up to the commander. As they 'floated' over to the right docking area they passed many ships in various stage of construction, repair, and maintenance. After swimming through air in a sense they made it to the right docking station and planted there feet on the ground "Always fun to do that every once and awhile" the XO said.

"Yeah it is" the commander responded as they walked to the docking port. The two walked to the main hatch and stopped because it was closed. Because it was a new ship only the assigned Captain and XO could open it at first. A holographic screen appeared with text requesting ID cards, and voice print authorization. The two pulled out there cards and scanned them in to the ships computer, it then asked for a voice print. The commander of the ship stepped forward first "Captain Nick Johnson, recognition number 872052001"

"Executive Officer 2nd class Joshua Fernest, recognition number 2568403182"

The screen disappeared and a few clicks were heard before the hatch opened up and a voice said "Welcome to the Phoenix class battle star Excalibur" it was the computer welcoming them. The captain went to the first console he saw and deactivated the command protical so that it showed the ship was now in active service. He then turned to Joshua "Well the crew should start arriving in about five minutes" he said.

"Yeah i've heard from some captains the hardest job about a new ship is greeting the crew"

"I bet it is, especially a ship this size"

It was standard procedure for the captain and the XO of a ship to greet the crew as they arrive. So the captain and the XO waited and talked while waiting for the crew to arrive.

The Ruins of the Former New Shiron
Gabrielle Crawfnord sat looking down at the lake. It was strange, the lake…like the tree she leaned against seemed to be coming back to life. But even though the water, and the trees beyond seemed full of life, her nose. Her nose could still smell the sulfur smell of death.

Who had come here?

Who had attacked New Shiron with such devastating force?

Gabrielle dropped her head back against the wood of the tree. She closed her eyes and held back the tears. Perhaps all was not lost, perhaps some souls had escaped using the gate system to a haven…but where? Gabrielle’s mind raced, she had once been their queen, until a war had forced her to marry. But Thomas Crawfnord had been a rather nice chap, even if Overlord of the Var. Unfortunately he too was gone, leaving her to cope with raising their daughter. The former naval officer turned queen turned consort opened her eyes. It wasn’t the sound, but the lack of it that brought her attention to the three Var that stood a respectful distance from her perch.

She waved Karlord Ner’Zu towards her, the two guards turning from him now to watch the surrounding countryside. Gabrielle knew not to use the head bob she had grown attached to as Queen; it meant something completely different to the alien Var. How her husband’s family wound up ruling a race of two meter tall aliens as supreme everything was a question that had never fully been answered. But she was not about to squander her child’s rightful inheritance, or a good advisor as Ner’Zu to some cultural difficulties.

The Karlord bent at the knees and gave the Var version of a bow to Gabrielle.

Overlord, a sensor array placed in sector 799-4 has detected a large gravity disturbance within one of the Hoste’ planes. Gabrielle blinked for a moment, Var technology was expert at measuring and manipulating gravity. They understood gravity in an intrinsic way that most humans, most races, did not. But the planes of semi-existence were completely baffling., although her husband had been an expert upon it.

“So Karlord this means….?”

That a large force is moving from outside the confines of our own galaxy. It is the only reason to use so much energy within the Hoste’ plane with so many ships.

“And with so many ships….how do we know?”

Shifting of the gravmetric signature indicates the shape is slightly changing inroute…a single ship…even the size of a Kezar would not reform in n-space.

“So it is a fleet…for trade or invasion”

It may be either, or both, or neither…but these outsiders may bring great wealth or great problems.

“Could they be?....” Her hand swept over the ruins of a former city that lay silent and dead in the distance. She needed to say nothing more to the Var.

Perhaps…an outsider raiding force may have hit here and then returned home…
“And this could be the follow up invasion force?”

But not to here…perhaps they found knowledge within New Shiron of where they seek…or they may not be the Ner’tel who did this crime to your vassels.

“But you want to investigate?”

Yes Overlord, Narlord Zel’kec now has a sizable fleet some thirty thousand parsecs distant they could run an intercept course…

"I have been having problems with Karlord Uz’kec recently"

His Narlord, though loyal to his House is loyal to the House of Crawfnord.

“Well then send the Narlord to see who these people are…and if we don’t like them…we will send them back where they came from “

A truly Var thing to say Overlord

OOC: Two things. One, I changed the size to 775 ft. I was trying to do specs and I didn't get it very well. Also, Spitbreak, you can scan me, but the most important and vital things, like technology weapons, etc, are blocked by dampener fields/static fields, etc etc. Basically, you can see the people inside, and check the hull, but the information needed to make it or the things inside will be blocked.

IC: Kathis, along with his bodyguard, eventually tired of waiting for a representative. They walked over to a nearby computer, which happened to be a guide terminal, and Kathis quickly memorized the pathway to the meeting room. Motioning for the marines to follow him. the Kelauan diplomat made his way down the hallways, often drawing strange looks at his physiology, but he ignored them. After all, his own people were still surprised at it themselves. When he finally reached the conference room, the door opened and he walked in, seeing the others who had arrived and the calm talk in the room. He also noticed he wasn't the only other one to recently arrive. He made a small hand motion and the marines dispersed throughout the room. Ostensibly, this was to let them relax and for the diplomat to show he was open to talking. In reality, it was for best coverage of the room, for them to hear the talk as best they could, and in case things went bad, they could react quickly.

OOC: Okay one of two things just happened. One is, all of your ship's sensors are not working and thus could not detect the Mu Cephei Growler which is trying to fool your sensors'. This also means your communcations are down and so you also didn't recive the message it sent to the station in regrad if the fleet wanted to dock. :p Or, two, I have been forgotten... If your wondering what I am talking about check this link out. (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=13474989&postcount=38)

IC: Major Spike couldn't take it anymore. The heat from the device that was (hopefully) fooling their target's sensors' was killing him.

"Yo, Rover! Do we have to keep that damn thing on?" The Major started to pant loudly as to prove a point.

"Well, I can turn it off and let these guys now that there is only a small craft here. Not only that, but give their missiles something to shoot at."

"Fine! Just stop, please just stop!. The heat is bad enough as it is." The dog in charge of the ECM package chuckled.

"What the bloody hounds is taking them so long to respond to our message?" The blood hound in charge of the EM package stated. No one said working in the Mu Cephei Space Fleet was an easy occupation, but those dogs joined anyway.

ITF conference room

The two diplomats watched as Kathis and his body guards entered the room. The two of them were already sitting down at the table waiting for the others to arrive. One of them pulled a holographic projector out of his pocket, the same small pen sized one the map was to the room was put on. She activated it which simply brought up a screen showing that they were from the P.L.A.N.T.'s, it would also display to them to them in text any translation needed in addition to there Universal translators in there ears. The P.L.A.N.T.'s were a bilingual intergalactic nation officially with the two prime languages being English and Japanese, however there have been many distinct dialects brought from all over the galaxy.

Apallo Fleet yards

The crew slowly arrived in one lump on board a transport that was in one of the stations few hangers bays not used for defence. The captain looked as people began coming up to the ship via the narrow corridor. They would then stop at the hatch and enter one by one handing over there assignment orders. As they did the captain smiled "Welcome to the Excalibur" he said shacking there hands. After only five people a young woman came up next "Lieutenant Commander Sakagami Tomoyo reporting" she said handing over her papers to the XO. He looked at them "So your our Alpha female?" he said to her looking up.

"Joshua you never disappoint when it comes to military tradition, been a long time"

"Yeah it has last time i served with you, you just got out of pilot training"

"And look at me, now i'm you top pilot flying the new Akira fighter, and your Alpha"

The captain looked over at the two of them "Not to cut in but your holding up the line Lieutenant, you can catch up later" he told them. She then turned "My apologies sir" she said before leaving to head for her quarters. The two of them then continued to greet the rest of the crew. She was a big ship so the Excalibur had a large crew as well, the captain would be there for awhile.

875,213 Years Before the Present Day

Tactical Log of the Adamant Medium , third primary adjunct of the Progenitor Containment Fleet

Evaluation of Enemy Coordination

Individual units seem to be unable of appraising situations from unique perspectives. Rather, valence components act under the authorization of a hive collective, tied to a network deep behind the Entity's lines. Assessment of incursions on standard day (01, 52, 72) against the VKT Sphere demonstrate the inability for individual elements to act with creativity or imaginative properties. In this a potential weakness may be found; to utilize the Entity's own logical approach via algorithms against it.

Naval strategy within such coordination is apparent of an issue of overwhelming defenders. As of the previous standard months (5,2) individual point tactics have devolved into swarming with greater numbers than the defenders. Source of such numbers is unknown; however, the probability that such source derives from an extra-cluster point exceeds .7625. Records from the Predecessors do not exist; however, it is likely the Entity used a similar plan against its original creators.

Ground strategy forms much the same. Enemy combatants attempt to close to close range (<10 meters) to initiate assimilation procedures via nanobot puncture weaponry. Such projectiles are designed to dissipate combat skins and breach environmental suits; hence, making contact with flesh and loosing infector nanobots into the defender bloodstreams. Current rate of assimilation has proven .9979 successful against all contacts. Unknown assimilated combatants generally launch coordinated attacks directed from such command source as naval strategy; Progenitor combatants also seen amongst such ranks. Likelihood of unknown attackers originating from outside the local Cluster exceeds .9182.

Singular intelligence seems responsible for coordinating such attacks with probability exceeding .9835. Such controlling entity is not known; however, it can be speculated to be synthetic in nature due to synthetic assimilation procedure and core components of fleet and ground elements. Additional presumed pure Entity elements also represent synthetic forms. Probability that controlling entity is synthetic, therefore, exceeds .6593.

Total evaluation of all circumstances is thus: the probability that the Domain will be able to sustain continued attacks at current or exponential progressive (as is the current trend) levels is less than .1814. At sustained rates and strategy of defense, the likelihood of total extinction of the Progenitor race exceeds .5203. Valence elements of the Entity replenish at a constant, sustained rate dictated by the controlling mechanism; therefore, such authority is the only place from where to chip away at the Entity's flood. The probability that such an attack could disrupt the Entity's attack is greater than .4988.

~Day 11,205 of Entity Contact


x x x


Recorded Transcript of Conduit Nexus, 875,001 Years Before the Present Day

<Consort>

<Primarch>

<You exceed your parameters. Do you have little faith in the Armada? There is still time to take this through conventional means.>

<Conventional means haven't worked the past 246 years of contact with the Entity. A lack of faith is the smallest way to put my feelings for the current method. We must act with contingency! The Sanctuary stands ready to accept our people, our way of life. Abandon this pointless war while we still can, purge this incursion!>

<Despite the Entity's gains, they still have failed to breach the VKT Sphere. A whole galaxy stands between our leaders and the unthinking hordes of the Entity. Despite the past two and a half centuries, we still maintain a better hand. We know this thing. We can beat it. Give patience, not panic.>

<Panic and patience may be too little to save us now, Primarch. Our very race closes on extinction as the Entity rounds on our Core. Species that may one day have achieved sentience are extinguished daily behind our retreating fleets, helpless against the innumerable legions of the Entity. Even my work is impeded by the Entity's creative ways - and who ever said the Entity lacked creativity? For a synthetic mind, it is intelligent, imaginative, and emotional.>

<Yet we still make gains. We can fight it, Consort! Do not worry as to the greater state - you are safe in this Nexus. The assimilators can not even touch the foundations upon which the Conduit's base begins - they can not close to the VKT Sphere. My fleets by the day engage and destroy their inferior creations by the scores. It is only a matter of time now.>

<Against an infinite enemy? Your fleets have no hope! You vow to defend the sentient species of the present and the future that dwell beneath our domain, yet your fleets regularly fail to prevent contact by the Entity! Its tide is unstoppable; its flow unebbing! Retreat the Sanctuary, let our civilization put pride behind us and restart anew with a fresh outlook and learned from the lessons of the past!>

<There is still too much to lose. The Resolution demands we give our blood and lives for each and every creature.>

<The Resolution has clearly failed - it wasn't designed to combat such an enemy! You can see history's view on the Resolution - how much did it help the Predecessors?>

<Maybe we are their children. Do the children not share the same fate as the parent?>


* * * * *


Present Day

A slipspace bubble opened up a hair's breadth, a sleek silver diamond shooting out from the white blip against the backdrop of stars and black void. The system was just as the One had seen it before - initial readings by external feelers were reporting a web of activity, artificial in nature - starships. Undying Requisite was the only ship from the Amalgamation out of slipspace so far - the others would be a few minutes behind. Rather than match the maximum speed of the Amalgamation vessels, the One had decided to boost his transit speed to analyze the situation slightly before hand - he had nothing to fear from these sentients, after all. The Requisite wouldn't be beaten here.

The sentients are arranged in standard diplomatic fashion. Recusant Balance's psionic voice slipped through the interior matrix of the Requisite, smooth and silky, yet seemingly in control of the situation. The AI was clearly not to the level of the One, but nonetheless was taking in everything that was below the Progenitor's concern.

Advance the ship, the One instructed through the matrix. Activate all feelers. Get our name out.

They'll like that, I presume.

The challenger-class AI's white form - seemingly a wave of light constantly shifting and moving - flitted through the matrix as it activated numerous systems. The One stood upon one of the several bridges spanning the fluid matrix, activating several other consoles. Recusant Balance shifted around, activating the feeler nodes with invisible fingers. Immediately doing so, the fluid matrix instantly began to change. Normally the interior of the ship was a clear matrix, surrounded by the grey backdrop of starship armor and various power instruments, and the control bridges spanning the inside of the ship. However, put to full capability the interior took a light blue hue, indicating the newest alert sequence.

From the exterior, the vessel's sensor profile spiked remarkably. No doubt the ships attending the trade conference would immediately pick it up; it would be virtually impossible not to. Even more so, it was a sole ship on the fringes of the system inching closer and closer towards the collection of vessels around the station. They would no doubt want to check out what was up, to ensure if nothing else their collective security.

Then, the games would begin.

ITF station

The Akayo picked up a new contact "Sir new contact! at Charlie Green 74" a officer shouted out from his console. The captain looked over "Log it officially as contact Zeta 23 and keep tracking it" he ordered to the officer as he continued monitoring the entire situation from the middle of the bridge. More and more contacts the ships computer could barely handle it all, hopefully every one was finally there the sheer number of ships was getting insane for a trade conference, however it was only one from the various factions for now.

As Kathis went into the station and began to meet with the other diplomats about the trade delegation, the Dominion ships noticed the large signature occurring on the edge of the system. As per procedure, Taetius sent a patrol of five probes to go investigate this new contact, and sent a message to Kathis about the situation. He had the crews get ready, just in case this turned out to be a hostile encounter. He wouldn't know how right he was until it was too late.

Kathis had been looking at the P.L.A.N.T.S. and their diplomats when the message hit. He jerked slightly and then stood up. He nodded respectfully at the diplomats and then he walked away a bit to a corner by himself. Closing his eyes, he connected to the neural net his race was connected to by the chips in their heads. The message came up and opened.

"A new contact has appeared in the system, on the fringe and is heading towards our location. I have sent probes to go investigate and taken steps in case it is hostile. Taetius." Kathis deleted the message and opened his eyes. His eyes were thoughtful; what exactly would be coming at the station from such a distance and without sending a message announcing its arrival. If it wouldn't alarm everyone, he'd order his fleet to go detain the ship, but for now, he had to wait.

The diplomats that something might be wrong when Kathis stepped out so one of them contacted the ship. He pulled out a ear piece and put it in and spoke quietly "Captain any thing going on I should know about?" he asked. The reply from the ship was simple "Not really, just tracking a new ship that just entered the system" The diplomat thought for a moment, perhaps Kathis knows this ship could be hostile "Keep a sharp eye on it captain" he said ending the communication.

On the current projection being displayed the female diplomat put her hands close to it almost like it was a keyboard. Many new screens began to be projected as she went through the data they brought. Every thing from Agricultural technology and genetically engineered high yield plants to consumer products and high end industrial products.

Sierra Control
Slipping back into the coordinator's seat, Kalintern summoned his holographic screen with a wave of his hand. Floating like a never-ending circle around him, it was currently showing the composite panorama of the docking ring's CCTV cameras. Vuhifellian and Principality personnel had been tagged for further inspection, but Kalintern dismissed the tags with an elaborate hand gesture.

Chopping his hand to the left, he initiated a scrolling motion on the data screens available to him - graphs of comms activity, full-spectrum sensor coverage, local life-sign displays... a red square flashed past. Recognising the symbol, Kalintern moved his hand the other way.

The screen-like display format that was standard for sensor coverage was replaced by a wireframe model of the station. It looked like (http://www.seankreynolds.com/fortheeyes/graphics/SpaceStation.jpg) a stereotypical science-fiction space station, except that it was much larger in scale, with its central cylindrical living section being about ten kilometres in length and the rest of the station being proportionally wide.

This view showed a three-dimensional lifesign map. A large percentage of the station's complement of lifesigns (represented as green dots) were scattered around the central outer docking ring. The red tag, however, was located in a completely different area - the south pole of the station. A nondescript generic ship icon was apparently docked at that pole's Special Dock Alpha One, as well.

The tagged lifesign was moving at a reasonably rapid walking pace to one the central personnel lift. A quick scan showed it was broadcasting a standard Kostemetsian Navy transponder code. Running that code through a not-strictly-legal database, Kalintern came quickly to a rather startling conclusion. All he could do was mutter "Oh," and sink back into his seat.

Over on the other side of the room, a crewman picked up a rather insistent comms signal from the Cepheid Growler. Realising to his dismay that he'd been unconscionably rude to the Cepheid delegate, he quickly formulated a standard affirmation response and routed it through the central antenna. Megabytes of 802.11b-standard apologies squirted out into space.

On the bridge of the Ilmatar, Mekayla suddenly flinched, turning her gaze to the emptiness of space.

"Mekayla? What is it?" Admiral Niemi queried, his brow turning into a worried frown as he stood up from his commander's chair.

"A new contact, Admiral. Clearly a ship... a large one, at the edge of the solar system. But I cannot recognize its signature. It's alien to me", the sentient AI answered, turning her gaze to the admiral.

"You mean... first contact?" Niemi asked, with a mixture of amazement and worry rising over his face.

"I believe so. P.L.A.N.T.S. and the Akayo are already sending probes and ships to investigate"

Niemi clenched his jaw. Several independant states, two of them already sending scouts. And if one of them was even a little trigger-happy, this trade meeting could take a very ugly turn. Niemi drew a deep breath and sat back on his chair.

"All hands to ready stations", he commanded, and the sounding of ready status echoed in the hallways. "Inform our diplomats and all present ships of the situation. Establish contact with Kawnisto command, inform them of possible first contact and prepare a data signal. Send all tactical data on the contact to captain Kalintern. Hell, contact the captain."

Mekayla and the bridge crew were on the job as quickly as possible. The Ilmatar was still docked with the station, but they could at least do the non-physical preparations for a first-contact situation before they would ask for releasing of the docking clamps.

Mekayla closed her eyes, multitasking as always. One of her tasks made captain Kalintern's computer bleep with an 'incoming message' signal. "Captain Kalintern, this is Mekayla. Do you read?"

System 978-3J-55 New Klatchia 2
Urclord Juz’craz stood on a promontory of rock and stared up into the darkness of space. Except the sky really wasn’t dark, it was filled with millions of stars that seemed to shine brightly on a planet that had not known civilization for almost three thousand years. The Urclord pondered the sky for a moment. Once, before his birth, the birth of his sire, or his birth, before even the founding of his House, the Var had ruled many of those stars. Or perhaps none of them, the stories from the past revealed many of the worlds of the Var, and their stars had vanished in the Varian civil war. Killed by the psychotic A.I. guided warships known as the Kar’deth Class. The vessels had massacred entire worlds by driving their massive singularity engines deep into planets, or the hearts of stars. The Var, and their fights to claim the ultimate power of the Empire had instead led to their descruction, themselves and their slave races. The only thing that had remained was a small remnant upon an outpost world . But the Var of the Clan of War had not died, but slowly grown back in strength. Reclaiming the vast hordes of ships that lay hidden in pocket universes or deep space asteroid fields.
Now the Urclord had been given the task of returning this one prosperous outpost into another planet for the Var to use. But this one would not only have Var…

The Urclord’s thought process froze as he saw tiny green light flicker in the sky above him. There was only one possible source of those lights. They were House Nazer, and House Lucraz fleets going into maneuvers. The Urclord swore and turned back to the woods. His long, powerful legs pushed him through the underbrush along the path until he came to the door hacked out of solid stone. It had been there for thousands of years. The Urclord’s tail made some of it vanish into dust as he strode through it.

<Kethia, why are the fleets lighting their drives!?>

<My Lord, the Overlord has sent word…a vast fleet of Outsiders has been detected>

<What!? Are we sure this is not some of Terrans demonstrating again, or one of their child races causing more problems.>

The Var had very little nice to say about most Terran descendants. They acted as if they had manifiest destiny to rule the stars. What a silly notion to most Var, only a foolish young race would believe such a thing. The Var had learned the falicy of too much power, of hungering too much to rule all space. Of course the Var had long ago stolen some humans themselves and found them to a rather useful, inventive species with proper training. So the Var had long ago begun to use humans, refered too as Terran-hu, to fill out the rosters of their ships, and the lower levels of their Houses and forces.

<Unlikely, they believe that it may be Outsiders who attacked New Shiron>

The Urclord became still for a moment, and shook his head. <Only those Nar who would dare attack our ally and then run from the inevitable storm of restitution would drive the Overlord to act in such a manner.>

<What should…>

<I assume the Narlord is leaving us with enough ships to protect the holes in the current static defenses?>

<Yes my lord…> A terran female emerged from the next room and bowed.

<He is taking four carriers, four Kipz Dreadnaughts, four battleships, eight battlecruisers, ten Nezic cruisers and twelve frigates.>

<I suppose he took all of the Logoth’s and the Nacbem’s and left me with the airbreather fighters?>

<Not all the Logoths, nine of the ten flights…>

<Then I suppose we should be greatful…we need to begin to work up the platforms again and get their central AI operating.>

OOC: I forgot the LOW human to Var mix is 60/40

OOC: Telros sent probes, I'm just monitoring from my ship

"Any signs of communication from Zeta 23?" the captain asked over his shoulder to the officer monitoring local communication channels. The officer looked up "non yet sir, they might be trying to understand our language" the young officer said to the captain before looking back down to the console. The captain was not concerned just yet because the officer could vary well be right. So he just relaxed from his vantage point in the center of the bridge.


Apallo Fleet Yards

Most of the crew was now on board the ship now and were all finding there designated rooms. Being a warship there was almost no one who had there own room except for the higher ranking officers. Due to a higher rate of crime such as sexual assault, years ago military high command changed the rules so that men were with men, and women with women. Shortly after this along with increased security on ships that crime rate took a nose dive.

Lieutenant Commander Sakagami Tomoyo, the ships Alpha Female was one of the lucky few to have her own room. The term Alpha female refers to a code name given to the top pilot of a ship. The code names within Z.A.F.T. all revolve around pack animals, usually wolfs. She entered her room, dropped her bags, set the room to only open to her, and then left to report to the bridge.

When she finally made it to the bridge after looking for around half an hour she walked in and went to the center of the room where the Captain and the XO were at. The captain looked over at her "Your late Lieutenant" he said to her.

"Well sorry sir, remind me to get a map of the ship later, someone failed to give me computer access yet"

"Computer is still processing every one into the system"

"Heh figures, Black Hammer class is a lot worse then this though"

"Either way your late on your first day" the captain said to her as he tapped his pen on the HUD in front of him. The HUD was a big holographic map of the current area, ship status and all other important information. Currently is displayed all systems green, With the ship safely in port at Apallo Fleet yards. The captain looked over at the helm control operator "In form dock control that we are heading out, take us out slowly" he ordered "Aye sir" came a response from several crew members. Several seconds later the docking arms began to retract and the engines powered up. The Excalibur began to slowly move out of port and towards fleet HQ.

The Major checked his flight control's for the hundredth time, they were starting to get close to bingo time. Which basically meant that if they wanted enough fuel to land they would have to leave soon.

"Sir, we just got a message from the station," the EM officer stated.

"Finally! Get all the data you can from it. Also, what is the status of the data collected on their sensors'?" Major asked, still wondering why they needed all this data. The terrans were no threat to them. They were allies. Not very close ones, but allies none the less. Why were they spying on them?

"Good, I think we can modify our sensor jammers to work better against they sensor's, but thats just a guess on my part." The ECM officer checked his notes several times just to make sure the numbers were right.

"Hey," Spike lowered his voice, "how many bombers would be needed to take this fleet down?"

"Depends, if their point defense is bad it would only take on wave of twenty bombers. If it's good then it will take a couple, but not that many. Why?" The weapons officer was thinking the something, but he wanted to make sure his commanding officer was really wondering and not just a spy for the political officer on the carrier.

"Oh, just wondering," Spike laughed, "however I would really like to see some explosions!" The others on the Growler laughed as well, but the tension was still their. All of them had seen combat, more then their fair share to be exact, and none of them wanted to revisit the experience. However, from the look of things, blood will be shed before they would get a chance to return home.

A few minutes later the Growler turned on it's FTL drive and headed back to their fleet at 75% the speed of light. They didn't get a chance to detect the One's ship...

ITF Station

"Loss? I'm sorry, but I was born after the 'unmentionable' incident. But from the very name of New Vuhifell, it is obvious it is not our original home. I judge you were somehow related to the incident? Nevertheless, I hope our two nations can be great friends, and Prime Minister Kayabuki would be more than willing to return the state of relations of our two states to the way they were before the Unmentionable Incident."

ITF Frigate Patrol

"Sir, we're getting slipstream static. Should we raise an alert to FLEETCOM?" a young ensign asked.

"I see you've never been outside of the Inner Colonies, boy. Slipstream static is common in the Outer Colonies; and it gets worse the farther away from the capital you get. Ignore it, son."

"But sir...large numbers of ships disrupt the slipstream bleed-off and..."

"That - or it could be the fact that we're several hundred light years away from the nearest Vuhifellian slipstream broadcast station. I told you to ignore it."

Stamper nodded happily, thanks to their longer lifespan, he had been in that war and it was not so easily forgotten on his homeworld. He could see why they had blocked it out. Truth be told, he would have done the same if he could. But he couldn't. He would have to live through the torture he had endured in those months.

He sighed heavily at the memory and looked back at the Vuhifell,
"The People's Republic would be delighted to return to a state of friendly relations with your government. We look forward to working closely through this Federation, he indicated to the station, "Impressive structure. Who built it, may I ask?"

875,201 Years Before the Present Day

Tactical Log of the Adamant Medium , third primary adjunct of the Progenitor Containment Fleet

One of the Entity's abhorrent creations was captured earlier in the week. The victim is a former Progenitor, but its nucleotide chains have been altered beyond recognition internally. Assimilator units had perforated the major internal organs, turning them into synthetic processor units. In effect, the former organic individual has been altered into a mindless machine, following the commands of whatever centralized control the Entity uses. Transmitters across the epidermis allow the machine to receive such commands from localized sources.

The nanobot assimilators have further created a "better" individual, physically at least. The machine, while losing virtually every creative or imaginative mental trait, realizes sharpened reflexes and stronger reactions. The new individuals are enhanced and thus in ability greater than the standard species therein assimilated. Muscular and respiratory systems have been augmented by such upgrading assimilator nanobots, additionally. Circulatory system has been largely left alone, except as a transportation mechanism.

Nervous systems have also witnessed similar synthetic enhancements. Massive clusters of nanobots have taken residence in the frontal and occipital lobes of the brain, enhancing short-term processing and ocular recognition. Clusters of assimilator units unify to amplify stronger processing power to the cerebral cortex, adding synthetic raw power to neural pathways of the brain. Synapses between neurons are filled by smaller assimilators allowing for activation or deactivation of crucial chemical receptors at predetermined times.

In short, the assimilation weapon of the enemy is creating an opponent unstoppable with conventional thinking. There is not end to its current rate of assimilation, capable of taking sentients with mere contact. A stream of races from outside the Local Cluster, along with internally-constructed mechanisms, ensure that the Entity will never run out of fresh sources of combatants. Command must reevaluate current processes of attack and defense, lest current defenses be overrun.


~Day 15,579 of Entity Contact


x x x


Recorded Transcript of Conduit Nexus, 875,001 Years Before the Present Day

<We're pushing the thing back. Containment Fleet successfully repelled an incursion at T82P recently. There is still hope, and our creative matrices are figuring out the Entity's varied strategies, no matter how bizarre they may be.>

<And you believe it will not adapt while you finally make inroads, Primarch? The Entity is not stupid. If anything, it is smarter than we are!>

<Nothing is unstoppable - nothing is immovable. Sooner or later, we will push it back. It can not last forever.>

<Have not we lasted forever? Perhaps our own doom is inevitable. Perhaps we were not destined to rule blind forever, but to suffer setbacks and learn from our mistakes! The Sanctuary stands open, Primarch - a chance for our species to learn! To return from what seems a road to darkness that we can not tread without descending into the depths of destruction!>

<No, Consort! It is far less than what seems to be perception - we have more than control. We have an upper hand! One that will be able to silence this beast forever. Such a synthetic thing as this can not match our own civilization in sheer terms of will - and our will shall triumph.>

<Will is no substitute for ability, nor numbers, nor mental set.>

<And yet logic is no substitute for passion, Consort. Do not stress your own soul for the affairs which I lead on successfully - your work is far too important. Take pride in the lesser sentients and future stargazers that you save today, and tomorrow - I will ensure that they will have a future worth living.>

<And will that future be with the Progenitors, or without them, Primarch?>


* * * * *


Present Day

One of the sentients is deploying mobile feelers, One.

The One's golden eyes flitted around the matrix, spotting certain indicators in the fluid that normal sentients would never see. The planar matrix itself was a giant control panel for the Progenitor - a map to determine, decide, and judge.

What exactly are these feelers, Balance?

Mobile non-supraluminal pods equipped with feeler mechanisms. They are trying to penetrate the spatial combat skin on the exterior of the vessel; to this they are drastically unsuccessful. Rating: Class 8.

That is good to know, the One replied. If he had known what a smile was, he would have smiled. Eliminate the mobile feelers.

With consideration at the matter, would it not be prudent to allow the mobile feelers to report negative feedback on the vessel and ourselves?

Prudent, perhaps, in a normal setting. Were this the Entity, I would naturally agree. However, our actions are anything but beneficial in nature to come, and there is no objective in trying to shroud ourselves behind a cloak of deception.

Very well, One. Method of elimination?

Whatever is most prudent. The One's form of a joke was subtle, at best, with his AI companion.

The Undying Requisite turned on the several Telrosian probes, activating its gravitic propulsion systems.

While you're at it, Balance, activate the planar grid, as well.

A prudent move. They will no doubt take that as hostile in nature.

Destroying their mobile feelers will be hostile in nature, I think.

The "planar grid" of the Progenitor frigate was its equivalent of a shield system, though one that wouldn't be detected at first sight on sensors. It was a multi-spectral system, working to defeat weapons not just on the level of the current present, but also against temporal and dimensional weaponry. Flicking through the matrix, Recusant Balance brought the grid up to 100% efficiency, the combat skin re-energized in case somehow these weak sentients had some sort of weaponry the Progenitors had never faced before...doubtful, at the very best. Still, the One liked to take everything into account.

Hit them with the forward offensive lattice, the One instructed as Recusant Balance was about to attack, changing his previous orders.

The elongated diamond-shaped vessel nosed towards the closing probes, its combat skin (armor) reflecting sensor sweeps. The probes were on somewhat lazy courses; no doubt they didn't recognize the potential of the Undying Requisite to be of greater offensive force than anything in the area. With a flit of light, Recusant Balance activated the fore weapons array. With a cerulean flash of light, a single projectile flew out, not amplified up to maximum speed - the projectile, rather, flew out at somewhat of a slow arc towards the Telrosian probes. The Requisite immediately nosed up, the Assimilator showing remarkable maneuverability for a 380m-long vessel.

The projectile entered a midpoint between the probes before erupting with a cobalt flash of energy. A sphere of destruction radiated out from the torpedo, ripping a hole in subspace and voiding any matter or energy unfortunate enough to be caught in the subsequent expanding spatial cavity.

Initialize all offensive lattices, the One instructed, They'll figure us out now.

The Requisite spiked with an even greater power output than before, the vessel still far below maximum power output - it was now "battle-ready," however.

How long until the Amalgamation arrives?

8.92 standard minutes until Warmaster S'hrip'stona's vessel emerges from slipspace.

The One liked Recusant Balance's response. Plenty of time for the Progenitor himself to get acquainted with the locals.

The five probes shot through space towards the strange contact that had appeared at the edge of the system, and began to work its way towards the station. Each probe had been given an A.I; there was little in the Dominion that did not have an A.I. Not only did they increase effectiveness and protect systems from hacking, but it also gave the Kelauans someone else to talk too. Of course, the A.I.'s varied between "dumb and "smart" A.I.'s. The dumb ones excelled at their tasks, but could not adapt further; the smart ones could, but they degenerated through learning to much and got to the point where they could not even go through the basic functions. It was known as "thinking themselves to death." So it was in these five dumb A.I'.s that a conversation began as their scans swept the ship.

"So, you find anything, Alpha One?"

"Nothing. I can't even get the basic readings the fleet got when it arrived here. Something's fishy about this ship. I don't like it. And the power readings...they're enormous!"

"You always say that, One. Although, it is quite strange that we can't detect anything. If they have this strong of a static field up, then this one wonders why they are here.....

"Calm down, Alpha One. You are just jumpy with the whole war going on. Don't worry about it. I am sure-"

Whatever it was going to say was cut off as they detected a disturbance in the ship. The power levels spiked and they began to make a closer run towards the ship, their sensors focused on the strengthening point. A ball of energy gathered and then blasted from the ship, heading for them. Confusion reigned; they couldn't tell what it was or why it had been fired. However, they soon recognized the energy patterns, and knew it was a energy weapon. There wasn't time to dodge; they could only send a quick warning to the Captain, and then transfer themselves to the backup computers on the Relentless. However, the message was unneeded. As soon as Taetius had seen the weapon fire and destroy the drones, he knew what was going on.

<"Alright, bring the entire fleet to Full Combat Alert. I want all squadrons in formation around us now. Tell all ships to break orbit with the station and to form up around us. Bring us away from the station to point zero-three-five. I want some distance between us and the station when this ship gets in range. I'd like to protect the diplomats if possible. Also, open a channel with the station.">

<"Yes, Captain.">

The Relentless activated its thrusters, and began to pull out from the station, disengaging the airlock. The other ships, having received the message and seen the display for themselves, began to move to break synchronous orbit with the station and began to head for the same point the Relentless was. As the ships began to turn, their hulls shining as they gracefully turned towards this unknown foe, small darts began to speed out of the ship's hangars. The Firecat-class Fighter-Bombers, and the Phoenix-class Interceptors could be seen taking position around the fleet, forming squadrons of 24 around the fleet. The other ships would see their power levels jump as they activated their antimatter reactors, supplying power to their weapons and shields. On all comm frequencies, a channel would suddenly open, showing Taetius' face:

"I apologize if my recent actions scared you, but if you hadn't noticed already, the contact which had appeared at the edge of the system just proceeded to destroy the probes I had sent out to investigate, as well as spiking its power output. I don't know what you consider to be hostile, but that looks like it to me. I am going to try and form a defensive wall some distance out from the station; coordinates of this spot are being sent along with this message. I do not ask you to stay; if you must leave, that is fine. However, we will be staying here and ensuring they do not hurt the station. Captain Taetius out."

The One had caused quite a stir in this area of space, and they didn't even know of the massive fleet that was en-route to their location........

"Captain!" a officer shouted "I know!, I know! frack me we aren't equipped for this, let the large ships deal with it, continue sensor scans, get the FTL online and ready to go, notify the diplomatic team we will transport them out if need be" he ordered the rest of the bridge crew. They all quickly began scrambling to get things done. The message was sent to the diplomats, and the FTL was warmed up.

Meanwhile in the conference room the situation became tense "What? your kidding?" one of the diplomats said "Not good, but lets continue" te other said turning her head back to every thing going on in the room.

Sierra Control
The beeper sounded, and 'INCOMING MESSAGE' blinked in large letters over Kalintern's abandoned lifesign map. Tapping the 'open' holobutton, he saw Mekayla's face. Simultaneously, the sensors detected the hostile activity and immediately activated the red alert, klaxons blaring throughout the station.

Vereinbarung Southern Pole Docking Port
Jackson had been strolling calmly along the corridor for the last few minutes, then his wristPDA alerted him to a tactical situation. The second he'd left the airlock, his portable electronics had linked up to the station mainframe and tapped into the data feeds.

Putting his hand up behind his ear, he pulled an eyeglass into place. The rectangular pane flashed on, assessed the data, and clicked a map of the system onto the small screen. A swarm of red dots was hovering just on the edge of the system, flashing yellow every so often to show activity.

Tapping the wristPDA again, he attempted to bump a transmission through to the station commander, but the display said the man was engaged in a call. Instead, Jackson twisted a virtual dial, contacting the comms officer's console.

Sierra Control
'TRANSMISSION - UNKNOWN CONTACT - "MARINER"' flashed up on the young lieutenant commander's screen.

He immediately recognised it. As far as he knew, nobody had any idea who owned the contact mask 'Mariner' (although some suspected that Strategic Intelligence wasn't telling all they knew), but the person behind it had rescued thousands of lives with apt tactical and strategic advice; their codename was a key word throughout the Commonwealth Navy, and had been throughout the time of the Republic before that. The young man hit the RECEIVE button, and a calm, neutral, and probably masked male voice began to speak.

"Lieutenant Commander Brandt, you may have noticed the contacts on the edge of the system. Recommend you deploy the 49th to 60th Ehre Wache Staffeln on vector 270 mark 0. I will arrive shortly to assist. Mariner out."

Brandt (for that was his name) was stunned. Mariner? In person? The man had always ensured his own anonymity by routing through thousands of ultra-strength firewalls and untagged subspace channels to make contact with the receiver. The thought that he'd discard his carefully crafted obscurity of identity was astounding.

<General, we are detecting weapons fire at the edge of the system. The ship registers as equal to a dreadnought in power. We have enough ships to effectivey engage and destroy it right now, but we need to act swiftly, before more similar vessels arrive.>

<I am aware Captain. You will direct the fleet. I will cross to the station and coordinate with the other leaders from there.>

7 ships pivot in space. The sudden acceleration is incredible, an instant 1,500 gravities sending them searing across the system, especially with the assistance of a microjump, letting them cover three quarters of the intervening distance in a fraction of a second, before continuing their high speed burn towards the hostile vessel. Targetting sensors blazed through the void, locking up the ship, despite their inability to scan through its armor.

This is a peaceful trade meeting, hostility such as yours will not be tolerated. Leave or be destroyed.

The message was short and to the point, a flat out threat. Leave or die under the guns of the Anderman Empire. Aboard the station, a gate opens, and the Setian General steps out, armored lightly in a smaller version of the Empires Wyvern Combat Armor. He was still a nearly unstopable juggernaut, his pistol a highly effective anti-personnel weapon, and his saber sharp enough to shred the bulkheads of this station with ease.

<Gentlemen, I believe we have a problem.> Everyone in the room would hear the voice of the setian general, and hopefully pay close attention. <I have sent my escorts outsystem to deal with weapons fire we detected on the edge of the system, I have personally come here to deliver this warning, and attempt to coordinate our efforts. I do not believe a single ship would be bold enough to assault us all here alone. Reinforcements will be coming I am certain.>

Sierra Control

Mekayla's worried face appeared on the holoscreen. "Captain, we are detaching from the station. Transmitting all thus far recorded tactical data to you", Mekayla said just as the data transfer began. The information was mostly from the passive sensors, as the Ilmatar could not use its active sensors while still docked. "Please offer protection for the diplomats. We have contacted the KATK Central Command, and they will contact the Kostemetsian government. Maintain this frequency for further data."

Just then Mekayla sent the order to release Ilmatar's docking clamps, and the flagship began to slide off the station. On Kalintern's screen came a quick piece of information, a fragment from the communication between the flagship and her command on Terra.

KATK HQ --- 12.18.27 GMT+2
Transmission received.
Tactical analysis commencing.
Bovillia Shipyards in high alert --- Dispatching KATK 0711-0968. ETA 04.14.49 and counting.

Kalintern might recognize the ship designation. 0711-0968. Besides the Ilmatar, the Principality had received one other unique vessel. A prototype, Farsight-classification. Designation... 0711-0968.


Frieden V near-space

The Northern Rangerians had come to the trade meeting under the assumption that the meeting would be relatively safe. Under that assumption, the flagship was escorted only by a skeleton escort. Two Bovillia-class battle cruisers, and five Remembrance-class multipurpose cruisers. Certainly no armada, but not a punching bag either. The Ilmatar took its place along the line, taking center with the battle cruisers Pegasus and Ringstar on her either side, the four smaller cruisers taking the flanks. One of the cruisers, the Remembrance-class KATK Alane, took position near the station, ready to serve as an evacuation vessel for diplomats and station personnel.

"Open comms", Admiral Niemi said, looking at the tactical view screen. The Andermanni had closed in on the unidentified vessel, far beyond the optics range. The only information they received was the tactical view from long-range sensors. "Attention all friendly vessels. This is Admiral Niemi of Northern Rangeria. Please inform us of possible battle plan, and transmit available tactical data to our AI"

Aboard the ITF station

The Northern Rangerian delegates and the officials with them seemed worried of the news - well, save for the tall woman who seemed to be the main delegate.

"Fellow diplomats... I've just been informed that one of our vessels, the Alane, is maintaining close contact with the station and will serve as an evacuation vessel if need be. I suggest we take the necessary precautions and let our soldiers do the fighting if this comes to exchanging plasma fire."

The diplomats nodded "Thank you, we have our own evacuation plan in place though, these talks have not been vary productive yet hopefully this blows past quickly" one of the diplomats told the Northern Rangerian delegates. They did not come equiped for battle, the situation did not call for it. In order for them to get help they would have to send some one to call for help because a message would take to long.

Meanwhile on the ship all preparations were now ready for the event of a evacuation of station personal. They could do a FTL while still docked if need be, though they might take some of the docking arm with them if they did.



Fleet HQ
In orbit above Empyion

The Excalibur arrived quickly at HQ where they would dock and take on all the needed supplies, weapons, and aircraft. The ship took its time and slowly docked with the facility and gate 53. Once it docked heavy lift vehicles and mobile suits began transporting the various cargo over to the Excalibur. It was a easy task, matter compression technology made heavy lifting a little lighter for work teams. Once on board each container would be brought back to normal size and placed where it needed to be. The captain looked at his XO "How long will the loading take?" he asked.

"Few hours sir, might as well grab a coffee"

"I know i am, and i need to find my way around to the flight deck" Sakagami said before turning and leaving the bridge. The captain smirked "She isn't the only one who doesn't know the way around"

"No one does sir" his XO replied.

ITF Station

"Yes, I hope very much to discuss further relations with your people; and I am sure that ONI would be cooperative as well." she bowed low, before recieving an alert from the frigate group in-system. There was heavy slipstream static now, further communication with New Vuhifell would be suspended until the storm passed. An urgent report was also issued to all friendly ships within broadcast range. The temporal and gravitonic sensors on the Vuhifellian ships were apparently going haywire.

'Nothing to be concerned about. But it might put a bit of a delay in interstellar travel and communications from within a fifteen light year area. Vuhifellian data log entry 1.99.403377>A011. Guessing as a regular slipstream storm.' was all the report said...

Of course, large, powerful ships capable of temporal distortion also had the same power as a slipstream storm...

875,194 Years Before the Present Day

Tactical Log of the Adamant Medium , third primary adjunct of the Progenitor Containment Fleet

Two Incursion-class vessels drove under temporal grids into Entity-held space at approximately standard time (529) of standard day (791). The first vessel has not been heard from since it entered the Contra Sphere; probability of its destruction exceeds .9849. The second vessel, however, was able to conduct a successful sensor sweep and return safely under the cover of the Suppression Fleet's moderately lucrative attack against the outer layer of the Contra Sphere. Its data, analyzed by the Evaluator Nexus, has proved critically important to the successful solution to the current crisis.

Coordination efforts by the Entity are now coming into focus. A single individual body maintains centralized control over the Entity's multiple functions and networks from a regional locale deep to the inside of the Contra Sphere. Numerous defenses and uncharted planetary bodies stand between the exterior of the sphere and the presumed location of the controlling individual. The intelligence accumulation is yet unknown as of form or structure; further investigations into the Contra Sphere are priority 2.

Various networking nodes traverse the Contra Sphere, facitilitating communication and centralization to the synthetic accumulation. Regional controlling mechanisms have been observed by forward observational platforms dictating Entity procedure on a regional and tactical basis; however, it has been apparent that overall communication and coordination on a strategic level has derived some inner source, now identified as the synthetic accumulation. Composition is presently unknown; yet, it can be speculated that the controlling accumulation contains some sort of sentient basis higher than the standard components of the Entity.

The sheer amount of authoritarian control involved in the Entity, coupled with the near-limitless production and assimilation capability of the Entity, demonstrate that small-profile strikes against the accumulation have a greater chance at disrupting the flow of the Entity and its continued linear progression against the Progenitor Domain. Some change of strategy is needed not only to increase chances of success but to relieve mounting pressures on the VKT Sphere.


~Day 18,148 of Entity Contact


x x x


Recorded Transcript of Conduit Nexus, 875,000 Years Before the Present Day

<We have discovered a way to perforate the Contra Sphere. The Entity leaves temporal gaps in its defenses as it circulates outwards in its attacks against the Warden Sphere, giving a single, well-equipped individual the chance to strike out against the Accumulated Intelligence itself.>

<And while you've worked to stall the Entity, I've found our future. The Sanctuary is complete, your Armageddon stands ready to fire. Burn this blasphemy and let our race rebuild from the fires of near-damnation.>

<Not when there is no other choice! Why abandon all that is around us? Why put these beautiful stars and extravagant heavens to a mere memory in our minds? We still maintain the advantage!>

<The Acumen Nexus has developed our agent - an artificial combat and intelligence form, Discriminate Flare. It will shift temporally through the layered grids of the Contra Sphere before making contact with the Accumulated Intelligence - wiping it and itself out in the process and disrupting the Entity. In its confusion, we shall take advantage and smite this stinking hazard.>

<Would this manufactured intelligence be acute, by any means, of wit and thought?>

<Naturally. It will outsmart the Accumulated Intelligence, no doubt there.>

<Maybe so. But have you not paid more attention to its psychological profile, Primarch? Do you really think such an intelligence will willingly throw away its own life?>

<Discriminate Flare knows the risks - we have ensured that, programmed such into its neural networks. It knows what is at stake.>

<And yet, pressured with its own life, do you not wonder whether it will believe that its creators are throwing away its life? To this intelligence, who is creator, and who is destroyer? Ourselves, or the Entity?>


* * * * *


Present Day

Fools. They want to destroy us, Recusant Balance.

Correction, One. They think they can destroy us. Worse, actually - these mere seven ships think they can destroy this one. Humorous!

Apparently they didn't think too much of that. What is the probability that one of these races is somehow more advanced than the Entity?

A race in the Local Cluster stronger than the Entity or the Progenitors at their height - as we are now? Less than .000125. After all, the Entity - and we - are still the two greatest powers in the Local Cluster. It is doubtful these sentients can even penetrate their own galactic rim, One, much less breach a temporal barrier.

Indeed. Estimated time until the Amalgamation's arrival?

Standard minutes 2.35. Depending on the rate of offensive output, this vessel can probably eliminate one-third of the sentients in this system in that time with a .8 efficiency rating. This vessel is currently maintaining a .72 efficiency rating.

It will have to do, Balance. Target the offending warships. Better yet, send them a message. They seem to value messages. Fools. Only fools announce their intent. Did the Entity announce its intent to the Progenitors? Did the Progenitors announce their intent to the Exiled? No. Yet the former emerged victorious both times.

I will connect via synaptic extratransit pathways. Maximum efficiency, .98. Current.

In the technology of the standard galactic civilization, Recusant Balance was referring a visual and auditory transmission to the Powerslave. As such, the AI's non-corporeal form would easily show up on the ship's visual, situated in the fluid matrix interior of the Undying Requisite. Indeed, by sending the comm at all broadbands, it would reach the other civilizations attending, as well - not just the Andermani.


<Repugnance is all I hold for you, impure sentient. Your vanity and misplaced pride are abhorrent. With your extinguishing, you will eclipse your shallow simplicity. You are a conceited blight that will no longer be an impediment to the greater progression of universal accomplishment. It is the greater good's preference to snuff out your feeble attempts at blind resistance.>


Recusant Balance was content with simply stating the facts. The ship's commander naturally would have no idea who he was dealing with, but aggression against first contact was asking for death...simply quicker than it would have come, anyway.

Activate the entire forward lattice, Balance. Wipe this pathetic splotch of ignorance off of the space plane.

With pleasure. I somehow anticipated sentient life after the Progenitors to be somewhat more intelligent than this.

And so the Resolution dies.

The forward offensive lattice structure activated hot, five fracture torpedoes designed to rip open subspace flying out in a cross from the fore-mounted offensive aperture. The sub-fore torpedoes fired nanoseconds later, ten more torpedoes sprayed in a slightly larger pattern. The distance between the opposing formation and the Undying Requisite was still a considerable distance, but the torpedoes would not only send a message that the One was serious, but also had the range and power to tear open subspace when they reached a certain distance - in a way, keeping the coming fight (if the sentients chose to fight...which the One sincerely hoped) on the Progenitor's terms. He could simply ram the enemy vessels for sheer fun and come out fairly clean, but this would be easier.

The Amalgamation would be here in less than a minute, anyhow.

"Captain, what now?" a officer asked as the message came in "Set condition red, tell the diplomats to make for the ship now! this place is about to turn into a battle ground, we will make for Empyion and get reinforcements" he ordered as he slammed his fist against the table. The crew complied and the message was sent to the diplomats.

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

The lead diplomat got the message "What? your kidding me right? son of a bitch!" she shouted out as she was told about the situation "What is it Ma'am?" one of the guards asked "This place is about to become a battle zone, the ship has called as back, it would be wise for the rest of you to leave as well" she said standing up and grabbing all the things they brought with them and storing them away. They then made for the door and began to run for the air lock, guards on each side. It would take them several minutes to get back to the ship, they didn't know if they would make it in time.

Taetius watched as the ship inched every closer, his eyes narrowed as he glanced down to check the status of the fleet. They had weapons lock, although that was only for missiles and railguns only. Their grasers could not yet reach this new foe, and the lasers were not even close to being in range. The squadrons of Fighter-Bombers and Interceptors stayed close to the fleet, which was just about in formation, with only minor adjustments left. He watched as the ship continued towards them, and he watched as the weapons lock got firmer and firmer grasp on the enemy ship. The closer it came, the more weapons they could unload on it and the more accurate they would be.

The message from Admiral Niemi hit the Kelauan comm channel, and he waved for his A.I. to deal with replying as he watched the enemy coming for him. He was glad for the Andermani assistance; their ships were quite powerful from what he could tell, just like his own. His A.I., a picture of a Kelauan woman before their forced enhancement, glowing blue eyes, crystalline hair and soft blue skin. She wore a robe with strange symbols and gems embedded in its fabric, as she replied to the Admiral.

<"Well, Admiral, I don't know about the Andermani, but our battle plan is simple. We have sent a message for reinforcements to High Command, but it will be some time before they can reach us. I intend to stay here, and hold off this ship, although I think I can at least damage the thing with my ships, and the combined firepower of the Setians will help. I am transferring what tac data we have as it is, but its not much, I'm afraid. Kaisha out.">

The A.I. returned and resumed normal functions, which was just in time as the message coming from the One was detected and blasted on the comm channels. Taetius raised an eyebrow. <"Lively bastard, isn't he? Nice to know he's all religious and delusional; gotta love those types who do what they want and hide behind the 'greater good' excuse. Oh well, he can talk to my weapons. Kaisha, prep-">

<"Alert! I am detecting increases in forward power arrays; signatures are the same as the weapon used to destroy the probes!"> And as she said this, she was proven right as the five torpedoes, then the second wave of ten, were launched towards the station. Taetius took a breath and calmed himself.

<"Alright, all gunners changed target to incoming projectiles. When they make into the medium range, open fire with everything you've got. I don't want us getting hit by those things, and I don't want the station to either.">

A chorus of ayes sounded, and the Kelauans waited for the torpedoes to get within the medium range bracket of their weapons, and then proceeded to open fire. Space between them and the torpedoes lit up with energy, missile, and kinetic fire. The graser and laser batteries opened with, the combined firepower of the fleet filling space with more than enough energy to blow the torpedoes to kingdom come; however, they added the railguns and the missiles onto that, the missiles tracking the torpedoes and homing in on them. If any somehow survived that, the interceptors shot out and fired their laser cannons and missiles at them, along with the laser/graser/missile point defense system. And that was only their barrage; the Andermani hadn't even fired yet.

Sierra Control
Kalintern did indeed recognise the designation. Before her transfer to KATK, the class prototype Farsight had been designated CX-1094. More ships were being produced at a rather fierce "peacetime" rate - Kalintern recalled he'd thought the Commonwealth was building up for a war, although the name of the opponent escaped him.

Turning on the public address system, he snapped his fingers, producing an annoyingly loud pop. The control crew turned to look at him.

"People, we have a situation. As you may or may not know, there is anaggressive fleet at the edge of the Frieden system. Sierra's being tasked to deal with the diplomats. Issue station security with LC-X5 rifles, and send the order out to set them to heavy stun. We don't have time for formal protests."

Vereinbarung South Pole Docking Port
Jackson cut the call sharply. Dialing again, he called up the Vuhifellian delegate's intrastation hex number on a secure line.

"My name is James Jackson. In accordance with OSIR regulation V-2501, I am informing you that I am returning from my two years 'missing in action'."

15 torpedoes. Against a single destroyer, it may have been a threat. Against a battleship, it was less than nothing. Point defence fire wiped the torpedoes from space in a fraction of a second. The amalgamation had underestimated the Empire, and now they would see what it meant to do battle with a true fleet. Turrets swivelled, and entire ships worth of armaments locked onto a patch of the enemies ship no larger than a baseball diamond, 90 feet on a side, it was a tiny target, and with enough power to blindside a fleet, it would not end well. The massive particle beam cannon of the Setian ships would hammer the enemy ship with incredible amounts of energy for as long as their barrels lasted, which, for a ship built by a Setian shipbuilder, was a very long time.

Hubris will be fatal. Enjoy the cessation of your existance.

The ships were already moving at a detectable fraction of c, and the missiles that blasted out in return were rapidly accelerating towards 80% of light speed, and would impact at that rate, hopefully crushing through armor and detonating inside the enemy ship, ripping it to shreds. Some 300 explosive weapons roared out to crush the single enemy ship that was foolish enough to defy the Anderman Empire.

The diplomats and there guards finally made it to the ship. They ran past the hatch and one of the guards hit the button to close the hatch. Once it was closed they signaled the bridge they were on board. The captain was releaved that they were alright "Detach from the station, bring us to a safe distance, we will stay for now and gather sensor scans" the captain ordered as the ship began pulling away from the station.

875,179 Years Before the Present Day

Tactical Log of the Adamant Medium , third primary adjunct of the Progenitor Containment Fleet

Mass attack can clearly not prevail against the massed enemy formations within the Contra Sphere. At the cost of two fleets comprised each of (3,481) vessels, (1,080) of each fleet exceeding (190,000) tonnes, the Entity retaliated with a combined armada of (21,558) supraluminal attack ships. Despite the combined Progenitor fleet exacting a proportional toll of 3:1 against the Entity's formation, only three vessels - none exceeding (78,000) tonnes - escaped the melee intact. The density of the Entity's forces within the Contra Sphere is amazing.

The accumulated intelligence that forms the core of the Entity is clearly not the sort of standard entity that normal combatant regional hubs represent. It represents a greater standard, a core processing unit that is driving this entire infestation upon the Domain. It is almost as powerful an opponent in pure terms of neural power than the Progenitor civilization has ever faced before in standard years (1,949,475) of existence, and likely will ever face again.

The Entity seems to be adept at responding to Progenitor incursions with a clear methodology, deeply ingrained - the flex of overwhelming numbers. With that standard of attack, a normal race below the par of the Progenitors could easily be defeated - but facing such an opponent as this will require creative thought and dedicated processing. The Domain simply lacks the necessary numerical superiority to face the Entity ship for ship, individual for individual, and be successful - the civilization will need to be beyond proficient. A perfect effort is necessary in such a situation.

As for the current affairs state, the military will only be able to stall or stalemate the assaulting forces against the VKT sphere. The opposition is drawing a source of numbers from impenetratable and unknown locales, and exploration is clearly a lesser priority with the state of affairs amongst the Domain. With the numerical superiority to launch near-universal attacks against the outermost valence shells of the VKT sphere, the Entity can deprave the inner grids of vital resources - Progenitor forces must counter with absolute perfection. It is all that can win this war at this point.

~Day 23,626 of Entity Contact


x x x


Recorded Transcript of Conduit Nexus, 875,000 Years Before the Present Day

<Discriminate Flare has begun his mission - Dissemination Fleet has launched a massive attack with 9,810 supraluminal warships against the Contra Sphere. It is a doomed attack - likely every single one will fall to the Entity's massive formations. However, it will buy time for Discriminate Flare to puncture the Sphere and attempt to make contact with the Accumulated Intelligence - and wipe it off of the planar grid.>

<You throw around near-10,000-warship fleets as if they were fighters. Where is your compassion? These are no longer numbers - they are Progenitors.>

<With war comes sacrifice, Consort. Each and every one has done his or her duty as they proceed towards the Contra Sphere, one by one. And they will buy time for ultimate victory.>

<Buying time is a skeptical proposition. Your argument holds little water, Primarch. Have you considered failure at all?>

<It has been considered, yes, multiple times. In the case of failure, we have secondary plans ready for deployment. We are not simply sacrificial lambs throwing all of our hopes and prayers into one last-ditch plan - this is simply the most sound strategy at the present time. Concentrated attack has failed to even penetrate the Contra Sphere; this is our best option.>

<And yet best options have so often failed throughout the hallowed halls of history. Will the Progenitors follow in the footsteps of every other civilization to try, a footnote in information planes of the future to educate the young?>

<We are the future, Consort! We are the shining stalwart of times to come - the Entity will provide our baptism by fire to ensure our race learns and progresses on.>

<And for how long will we be that shining city on a hill? How long can we reign sovereigns of the mountain? How long until some unstoppable force pushes us off? How long until the Progenitors once again taste dirt between their teeth?>

<Not our children. Not their children. Not their children thousands of generations to the future. I shall ensure of that - in all my power.>

<And what happens when your power isn't enough, Primarch? What happens when an enemy can play your hand one higher?>


* * * * *


Present Day

Recusant Balance...did you activate the priming charges on that spread of torpedoes?

I think I forgot to activate their intelligences, actually.

That would be apparent. Torpedoes don't just get shot down. In fact, they don't get shot down at all.

They do when I forget to activate their intelligence mechanisms.

Indeed. No matter, their latest communication was very funny. I am now certain - probability .9995 - that they have absolutely no idea what they are facing.

Certainly indeed. Their latest spread of fire, one, is humorous - do you know who they remind me of? The Entity - apparently, overwhelming numbers are valued highly by their culture. What a waste of three hundred mobile projectiles!

The Entity taken down several class ratings, that is. No matter. Allow the weapons to pass into the planar defense grid.

Normally I would question you not to counter them, but you are right - they won't scratch it.

If spatial grids could be scratched. But I understand your use of metaphor, Balance.

Rather than directly intercept the weapons fire from the Andermani vessel - easily within the ability of the port weapons lattice of the Undying Requisite - the One's plan was to let the weapons simply hit the spatial defense grid. It would be "humorous." Besides, the attacking aliens were vain to a degree that exceeded normal conventional thinking - it would be hilarious to throw their words back at them. As if the Progenitor would die from seven measly ships that probably couldn't take down a few Entity vessels, of which the Undying Requisite had slagged in numbers approaching the tens of millions in the past six hundred thousand years of the Progenitor's existence. Closed-minded thinking had that effect.

The wrench in the plan, obviously, was the Amalgamation. With the fleet arriving in now several seconds, they would no doubt draw from the fun the One was enjoying in one-on-several combat against a race that couldn't even put a noticeable decrease in the planar defense grid that surrounded the atomically-arranged combat skin. Their technology simply wasn't up to snuff. The Amalgamation vessels, despite all the help they'd gotten from the One, certainly were capable of being destroyed. If not for the constant thread of engagement by the huge numbers of the Entity, the One would have simply engaged this galaxy by himself.

The weapon fire from the Andermani vessel slashed into the planar defense grid of the Undying Requisite, the ancient Progenitor ship slicing forward through subspace without missing a beat. Torpedoes exploded against the grid's multi-spatial spread, diverting energy everywhere but into the vessel's atomic-stacked combat skin that had survived far worse - exponentially - than this. This was a shower in comparison. If the Andermani had thought they were engaging just another usual warship, the One had another thing in mind.

They seem to appreciate high numbers as the Entity does, remarked Recusant Balance. I suggest we return the favor.

Why not communicate with them again? They seem to take pride in that. And seeing as their pitiful display of weaponry was completely ineffective...

Indeed. I am no intelligence for pride as much as you are an organic loathing their overconfidence; they deserve a lesson in humility.

The One took over weapons himself as Recusant Balance sent back a communication to the Andermani vessel.

<If only you knew the demon that your thinking epitomizes. But seeing as you prefer combat in such methods, we will gladly play your game. Your weapons lack any sort of reasonable power to breach our technology, honed through over two million years of thought and dozens of galaxies in research. He who you mindlessly assault through animalistic tendencies is no casual observer - but rather, a savior. Your arrogance and aggression will go no further to eliminating the Infection - and thus, you must be removed, following in the footsteps of many others. Your pompous, unlearned attitude, however, is a trait gladly removed to eliminate the Accumulated Intelligence.>

2.9 seconds until slipspace departure, One.

Firing frontal lattice arc in a numerical spread fashion. They can have some of their own thought, lost in antiquity when not utilized with stronger technology.

The Undying Requisite spun on its axis, blasting away a smaller torpedo followed by a larger one. A third aperture opened behind the two torpedoes, blasting a "spatial shockwave" in front of the two torpedoes and slightly below them - a mass-reducing field to accelerate the weapons trans-dimensionally until they reached critical detonation point. The torpedoes weren't contact weaponry - rather, proximity explosives that would blast spheres in subspace to cause spatial ripples capable of blasting apart vessels not properly designed to defeat such armament, as the Entity had adapted. It was still good against the Entity's drone swarms, however.

The leading, smaller torpedo fell into place in the mass-reducing field - quickly accelerating beyond normal spatial velocities. The second one fell into place right behind it, seemingly splitting apart - four hundred micromissiles taking the former projectile's place. Each one's artificial intelligence had been activated picoseconds after launch by Recusant Balance. The intelligences had each activated their own micromissile's shield system, allowing each to accept some damage from either energy or mass weapons before rupturing. They would also now, with the intelligences, avoid linear fire with the ease of a fighter.

The lead torpedo wasn't really a torpedo at all - it was a shield, drawing the torps in. It would bring them in just close enough to neccessary, when the micromissiles would blast out in all directions from underneath the planar umbrella and blast apart subspace for hundreds of kilometers - creating a dead zone for undefended or unknowledgeable vessels encountering the fields. As the mechanism for rupturing subspace in such fashion had originated from a galaxy some distance away in the Local Cluster, the One seriously doubted the sentients had seen anything like it - especially by the ease it had violated the mobile feelers.

The lead torp activated, its shell breaking away as a field in appearance to an energy plane activated, swinging forward and rippling through space, generated from a mass generator behind the energy envelope. The shield torpedo would keep going until it hit something - a potential weapon in itself, it could create an energy discharge in the hundreds of petawatts. Low for the Progenitors, however.

The torpedo convoy sped along at a steady acceleration, increasing velocity in linear fashion. They were about two seconds away from discharge of the micromissiles to rampage subspace - and the intelligences were smart. If they detected threat to the weapons, they'd go ahead and discharge early - throwing up the field to catch whatever was in the wake. It wouldn't hurt the One, after all.

The Undying Requisite stormed after the missiles, heading directly towards the Andermani line. The One was fully aware of his own penchant for ramming apart other vessels - he'd done it countless times with the ship, and was more than prepared to do it again here. As much as the Progenitor liked to simply be the commander in battles - giving commands to the Amalgamation to do his fighting for him - he knew that first contact demanded strength, and his vessel was exponentially stronger than anything in the Amalgamation armada, even the massive, 100km-radius Home Ships.

Speaking of, the first vessel - the sole Home Ship to go with the response fleet to engage in-system - exited slipspace, its massive form dwarfing the 380-meter Progenitor vessel, despite the opposite massive disparity in power. Other vessels began popping out from slipspace, the entire armada forming up - maybe it had been overkill, but first contact was about displays of force, not about efficiency in winning. Or so the One believed - he took no chances here about suffering undue losses in blowing apart this system.

The captain looked on as more ships entered the system "Your orders captain?" a officer asked. The captain was annoyed, vary much so this just turned from a simple attack to an invasion. He looked around at his crew "Prepare to jump on my mark, take us to fleet HQ, continue gathering sensor data until i give the word" he ordered. Being close to the station they were relatively safe for the time being allowing them to collect all the data needed on the unknown ships. They began to move away from the station on engine power, the station was a target so they had to get clear.

McGruff looked over the data and photos the probe took just several minutes earlier, he was in his personnel study room.

"Wow, this is not good," McGruff commented after looking at the data. aprently one of the ships at the station had a power jump of unrelistic proprotions. He contuied to speak to himself, which would sound like yelps, woofs, and barks as he looked at the data on his computer then looking at the photos. It appered there was going to be a battle between one ship and a few dozen by the station. McGruff wondered if the politcal officer retained this infomation from him. The bomber squadron, which was nearly ready to deploy, would have been murdered if they went in to lanuch their missiles. He needed more ships, but how? The nearest Mu Cephei battle station was a 30-day trip from here at the fleet's fastest speed. Surely he would be allowed to sommon more ships though?

"What to do, what to do? Should we attack and hope for the best? Send in a battleship?" He thought to himself. Of course! Mu Cephei battleships' were designed to take in a lot of erngy and heat based damnage. Plasma didn't work on it and only large lasers could damnage it. Plus it is fast as hell on full military thrust.

"Then it is settled, but first I need more information," General Scuff McGruff ordered for four Star Fury Growlers to be sent in to deliver four probes to a location near the station to gather more information.

This time though they would have fighter escorts...

"My God", Admiral Niemi gasped when he saw the tactical screen blink up like a Christmas tree. Several new contacts appeared out of hyperspace, all of unknown classification... but bearing similarities with the first contact.

The Admiral had entertained some optimism of the Ilmatar's ability to fend off a single powerful hostile, but against a fleet of this magnitude it would be folly to sacrifice the most powerful ship in the KATK Fleet. A quick look at Mekayla confirmed the admiral's fears: an expression of desperation was on the AI's holographic face.

"Mekayla... Inform the Alane to begin docking procedures. It is time to get our diplomats out of here."

"Sir, the station... we cannot just abandon them", Mekayla said, turning to look at the commanding officer.

"I know, I know... Inform captain Kalintern that we'll evacuate any personnel he decides to let go. And that we will defend the station as long as we can to let them escape. Send a missive to Kostemetsian government, and include in it all tactical data you have managed to collect."

Mekayla nodded, the desperation still apparent on her face when she appeared on Kalintern's viewscreen in Sierra Control.

"Captain... Admiral Niemi has ordered the evacuation of our civilian personnel. The Alane requests docking permission for this purpose, and we are ready to evacuate Kostemetsian personnel as well. The Ilmatar will remain here to defend the station as long as possible."

OOC: Huh, that's funny. I don't recall anyone mentioning facing an ass-raping uber-tech ship in the OOC thread...........

IC: Taetius watched with satisfaction as the combined weapons fire of the Andermani, and his fleet incinerated the incoming waves of projectiles. He clasped his arms behind him, and focused his eyes on the enemy ship. The sensors let out warning tones as they showed the loss of power in the ship as it powered down its shields, and the Andermani fire slammed into the ship. Through some strange flux in the galaxy, the ship was not damaged in the least by the punishing fire of the Andermani ships. He raised an eyebrow; kind of odd for a ship to be able to ignore fire from a navy that had so few ships as it was, and jam-packed with weaponry. But he supposed he had seen stranger things in the galaxy.

<"Sir, energy spikes again. They're deploying more torpedoes.">

<"Understood. Sweep them on out; I want a repeat of before, with tighter-">

<"Captain! The ship has jumped in power readings; the sensors are reading some kind of field that has reached their projectiles. It appears to be increasing their speed.">

An alarm rang, and they all watched as the larger torpedoes dispersed into four hundred smaller missiles. Taetius raised an eyebrow; interesting tactic, that was. It did make it harder for point defense to catch them all. He imagined he wouldn't be able to get them all by himself, although most would probably be eliminated by the sheer mass of fire from the fleet. The Andermani could probably get the rest. He nodded to the weapons officer, who directed the fleet to open fire with its weapons once more. Again, space was filled with energy fire, missiles, and kinetic rounds as the many grasers, lasers, missile and railgun batteries unloaded on the incoming projectiles. The Interceptors waited patiently this time, moving ahead of the fleet a bit in order to pick off any missiles which came into range with their laser cannons and missile pods.

As the deck thrummed under the power of the many weapon batteries, the FTL sensor blared out its shrill alarm, as the enemy's reinforcements arrived. Taetius raised an eyebrow as he gazed at the increasing numbers of the armada that had arrived. Not only did they have a strangely unkillable ship on their hands, but now an armada of ships that appeared to be their reinforcements. <"Great; what is the status of our reinforcements?">

<"ETA of closest units is eight minutes, sir.">

He nodded grimly. <"Very well, then we hold out until then. They will soon learn the Dominion makes their enemies fight dearly for every inch gained.">

The five vessels slipped into the system with stealth. One moment they were not there, the next they were. Actually they had their system powered to standby and were on a powered down tragectory.

Five Var gunships that seemed to be rocks flying through space. Utilizing their passive and gravemetric sensor arrays to gain insight into this new, inter-galatic visitor.

Sub-Kapthia Jessie of House Beryl stood in the crowded bridge around the primary holotank. Details of the fighting, and of the enemy tactics scrolled by as a rather simple A.I. analyzed and catogorized the interloper's weapons and tactics.

Her blue eyes locked onto the small yellow dots that indicated missles, and the small yellow triangles that indicated some torpedo like weapons from the interlopers. <KK...patern analysis on the torpedos are those A.I. controlled?>

Data insufficent...please wait


The Sub-Kapthia nodded her head, <Of course we're only gunships with limited A.I. processors...I hate hanging out here playing dumb astroids while these terran take on some unknown invader.>

30 light years from system

The Varian fleet sat like dark objects in a dark sky. Kapita Ur'clarc sat on his bridge and contimplated the fleet.

<May the Ancients and the Immortals be damned, I dislike heading off to fight an enemy we know nothing of>

<But the Overlord commands it...>

<The Overlord did not led us through the Dozle war, when the hijacked forces of billions marched upon the enclave. I stood as the Dozle abomination roared across our southern frontier. Only the steadfast bravery of the Overlord held us then...>

<But...now New Shiron has fallen should we not act?>

<Yes...We should act, but I wish a true blood of the House of Craufnord led us. One who was of the Ancient blood.>

<That was only a rumor...>

<Have you ever seen one of your one race who's eyes glowed so blue that no terran, terra-vak, or even demon could hold their gaze?>

<No...but still>

<Bah, who ever these interlopers are...if they mean harm they shall learn that the Houses take poorly to waring vagabons who would tresspass upon our domain.>

OOC: Don't like plot devices? It's not a regular, but it is in the picture to instill fear. If I wanted another boring battle RP, I wouldn't be doing all the storyline historical arcs in the beginning. While I'm utilizing the One as a fighter here, he's a commander, first and foremost. However, letting the good guys win every time makes for a pretty bad RP, no? Kills momentum and loses players. Besides, the RP will be over in one battle if the invaders simply lose and go away. Since it seems every FT race is virtually invincible these days, it's only fair to give a challenge, lest yet another invader be thrown down to "clearly superior" NS galactic powers.

OOC: he is right you know, I mean most of us don't have the power in this battle to win, most of you are calling for reinforcements to make a stand, me on the other hand, I'm gathering as much data on the enemy force as possible to take back to make a analysis and come up with a plan to combat them

Then the main interloper fleet began to appear.

<Damn, all are to be damned for acting like Nar at a time like this...Helm, perpare full engines...Nav I want a slap shot slip spot normal to the entrance plane of that armada then slip back out ...Com I want an emergency dispach log sent with the Torra Torra Torra signal...signal KZ detachment to flow us...Weapons...I want a full dispersion of all missles when we slip back...Com inform KZ-zero beta to return to fleet...Nav have you got that slipshot worked out?>

<Ku my cheif>

<Nav transmitt...Helm on my mark prepare to lead the attack....>

<Com emergency probe released...>

A small object burst out of space and then vanished as it parted into the transdimenional space known as bubble space...the first real sign of life from the five vessels playing rocks in the outer system.

<Go...>

A moment later the five small objects appeared and began to accelerate...burning enough energy to show they were small, even perhaps overpowered warships...a moment later the transdimentional barrier parted with enough gravemtric wake to cause coffee to slosh about a few minutes later on the space station. Then they were gone...

One minute passed...

Two minutes passed...

Three minutes passed...then the rips of space-time occured again. These above the plane that the interloper armada was appearing on. The four vessels suddenly sent out a ripple of thirty-two missles each. Eight were contact nukes, twenty four laser heads. The missles skiped the short distance to their targets. The nukes exploded at 250 KT, enough to wipe large islands off of the face of planets when they hit. The laser heads exploded between the enemy vessels, they turned into small pin cusions of light as a sudden nuclear release powered their IR lasing rods to burn holes in enemy ships.

The four gunships dropped through the enemy armada with guns blasing. Sending small metal spheres hurtling outwards at 0.9c to clear a path.

OOC1: My appolgies but the characters demanded that they wouldn't let the enemy fleet just 'appear' without attempting to do some damage.

OOC2: The Var are going to have to pull alot more forces together to deal with these guys...However, I do plan on blooding the One a bit here Amazon since the One needs to have to worry about someone who might just have the power to do real damage.

Personally I think it would be best if the One wins here...but has to pause trying to deal with evaluating what just hit him. Giving the Terrans time to orginize a very good attack.

OOC: If I truly wanted to simply "win," I'd be acting on a strategic level and would've brought ten thousand vessels. Winning a battle in an invasion of such small importance as this means about nil - something everyone (ZAFT excluded) seems to be overlooking. Try seeing a bigger picture. Think outside the box and use intelligence and imagination.

LoW painted a fairly nice picture here, especially with his comment on "bloodying the One." Think innovatively. If he basically lives in a ship from an inordinately advanced civilization, strike something else. If you can't hit him directly, per se, hit something else. Find ways to create damage, don't just try the same tactic over and over again - that won't get you anywhere in NS and in real life. Try out change for a bit in an RP that ultimately won't affect your nation.

OOC: I ment win by 'win' the system...not the war. The Var really do not 'adapt' well, they need Terran help to do so...but as you can see they focused on the main fleet rather than some forward element.

"Sir I think we have everything we can possibly gather from this battle, we have energy outputs, weapons, dimensions hull scans" the XO said to the captain and the ship circled the battle in a vary distant and wide arc. Hopefully since there keeping such a distant they would not be noticed or targeted.

Fleet Headquarters
In orbit above Empyion

Lieutenant Commander Tomoyo finally found her self in the hanger, starboard side, aft. It was larger then she had expected already there were aircraft in stalls around the deck but many were still empty. She could easily find her craft because unlike all the other aircraft, heres was red where the others were black. Hers was red because she was the Alpha, but she wasn't the only one, all the squadron leaders had dark red aircraft. She walked over to one of the red ones, one of only three currently in the hanger. She looked at the name on it, not hers, then the second one, again not hers. She walked half way down the hanger to the other but it wasn't hers either.

She turned around just as the hanger deck elevator shaft opened up carrying another three birds in. One was red so she watched and waited for them to park it. After they did she walked over to it "Inspecting all your birds eh Lieutenant?" one member of the ground crew asked. She turned and looked at him "Something like that" she answered with a shout as she walked up to the red aircraft. She brushed her hand along the nose section as she looked at the markings "AEMF-002 Akira, should be a change" her hand then continued along till she saw her name on the side.

She continued inspecting the aircraft and opened up the cockpit. Like all Z.A.F.T. forces craft it used a internal 360 panoramic cockpit housed within the craft. This was seen as a safety measure to protect against the vacume of space.

The situation had quickly progressed from bad to worse in such little time, that it was amazing that they hadn't already been killed already. The single enemy ship that had arrived first, although much smaller than the armada's own ships, was incredibly strong and they had not been able to even damage the damn thing in the least; all they could do was deflect its torpedoes and try to wait until it was in range of the station for them to begin hammering it. They couldn't abandon the stations defense to engage the ship, or the armada that had appeared. Until the diplomats were gone, they could only stay as the shield of the station. Their own diplomat was currently on his way to another docking bay, where his personal shuttle, equipped with a short distance Jump Drive, was located. It had been deployed once the armada had appeared. They could have handled one ship, although now they doubted that prospect, but with the countless ships arriving, it was hopeless.

However, the Kelauans had faced hopeless before and overcome; they had sent millions to die in order to secure the means and time necessary to strike an effective counter blow. Taetius knew his duty and so he prepared himself.<"Have all Warbringers and Marines get to their escape pods; they will be useless in this battle and I will not lose more than I have to. I don't care what they think, just get them on those pods. Lock onto the closest of those living ships and open up. If we're going out like this, I want to be sure that they remember how we tore through countless hundreds before we fell.">

The order was carried out and throughout the fleet, the Warbringer Chapters, and the Marine Legions proceeded to get into the many escape pods and exit the ships in great numbers. Like the shuttle, they were each equipped with a short burst Jump Drive, which they used to escape battle. When they arrived in a safe location, they broadcasted a distress signal, from which they waited for pickup. The countless flickers occurring around the fleet began to speed up and look like fireworks as the many pods began to escape.

The computer blared yet another warning of a new entry. Taetius swore. <"Oh, what now?! Do they have even more ships?! This is more than the Arl'skich invasion, by Kelaua's teeth!"> The screen zoomed in, and revealed not more of the living ships, but some strange new ones. The computer could not match their transponder codes, but they were friendly, at least in Taetius' mind. After all, if they were jumping in to blast the enemy fleet, they were at least friends in his book. The explosions caused by their missiles registered on the main screen and the crew nodded in admiration. They were taking to these new arrivals quite well. <"Are we in range yet?">

<"Not yet, Captain. They haven't approached the station far enough and-">

The sensor officer was interrupted by the communications officer, who lifted his head from the headset. <"Sir, Kathis reports that most of the diplomats are away. The ITF is abandoning the station, and are evacuating!"> Taetius turned to face the screen again, a tight smile on his face.

<"Well then, I guess we don't need to hang around and defend it. All ships are to move forward and engage the enemy with all speed. As soon as they are in range, they are to open up. Choose targets of opportunity, weaken the enemy waves as best you can. Randomly shooting about won't save us in the least! And have all fighters move out and engage. The point defense systems will do little good against something of this magnitude.">

The fleet shuddered and then began to pick up speed, heading for the One's fleet. They gradually got faster and faster, and it wasn't long before they were cruising quite well, for ships of their size, at the fleet. The sensors sounded a neutral tone when they had crossed the target range for the enemy, and the fleet literally exploded with action. The heavy graser batteries, bomb-pumped gamma ray laser beams, unleashed hordes of powerful green bolts that sliced through space to impact on the enemy ships like a hail of boulders, and the medium laser cannons supplied them with another storm of energy, only different by the strength of the weapons and the color of their beams, a dull red. Missiles were spammed like nobodies business, literally making it look as if the Kelauans were deploying an extra wave of fighters, as they cruised through space towards the enemy fleet. Unlike the drones from before, they had no idea, only smart computers which did their best to dodge the enemy fire. However, they weren't perfect and many missiles would be lost on the way to the enemy fleet. Finally, almost as if this was just an insult to injury, the Dominion ships unloaded their railguns, each twin-barreled gun firing two large shells that slammed into ships using their kinetic force, then exploded with enough force to devastate one of the states of a nation.


During all this, the Interceptors and Fighter-Bombers shot ahead of the main fleet, tearing through space in their urge to find and engage the enemy fighters. They knew they were incredibly out-numbered, but hey, at least they would die as aces.


OOC: Uh, thank you AB, I know what innovation is. Also, did I say that I wanted to win? Or that I wanted the invaders to auto-lose? No, I don't believe I did. And I sure as HELL didn't say my nation was a galactic power, or "clearly superior".

OOC: Stop OOCing in my thread :p Anyway, if the invaders win, Kostemetsia will pull back and launch a full-scale war. If they don't, however... well, business as usual.

IC:

Kalintern popped the intercom again, then picked it up and put it to his mouth.

Crew of Vereinbarung, this is the Station Coordinator. As you may or may not be aware, a significant number of unknown enemy contacts have entered the Frieden system. If you wish to leave, you will be given passage on the Principality starship Alane.

The triumphant answering roar of negation rattled the station's docking ring. This crew would stay and fight as long as it was within their ability to do so.

Kalintern smiled. "Sorry, Ilmatar, but we're in for the long haul. Docking permission for Alane granted."

Turning to the communications officer, he calmly told the frightened but determined young ensign standing in for Brandt, "Call in the Third Territorial Fleet. It's time to make a stand here."

Mekayla transmitted the intercom message to Ilmatar as well, and both the AI and the human admiral could only smile. The Kostemetsians certainly had guts, and as their allies, the Northern Rangerians were honour-bound to remain there and fight the good fight.

The Alane docked with the station and began the process of evacuating the civilian personnel.

"Captain", came the call of admiral Niemi from the comms. "I salute your bravery. Rest assured, the Principality and her troops will not falter. We will stay for as long as possible. Also, Mekayla is asking permission to link with your station defense grid in order to optimize our defenses."

Already the industrious AI was hard at work, her artificial polysentience calculating possibilities, trajectories, contemplating possible tactics as well as analyzing tactical data transmitted from long-distance sensors. The Ilmatar and her six escort vessels were already prepared for battle, maintaining a defense line near Frieden V.

"Captain", came Mekayla's voice suddenly as she formed a miniature hologram on the Sierra Control hologrid. "How long until you are combat-ready? I do not believe the Andermani and Kelauan forces can hold off a fleet of that magnitude for long..."

875,179 Years Before the Present Day

Tactical Log of the Adamant Medium , third primary adjunct of the Progenitor Containment Fleet

Mass attack can clearly not prevail against the massed enemy formations within the Contra Sphere. At the cost of two fleets comprised each of (3,481) vessels, (1,080) of each fleet exceeding (190,000) tonnes, the Entity retaliated with a combined armada of (21,558) supraluminal attack ships. Despite the combined Progenitor fleet exacting a proportional toll of 3:1 against the Entity's formation, only three vessels - none exceeding (78,000) tonnes - escaped the melee intact. The density of the Entity's forces within the Contra Sphere is amazing.

The accumulated intelligence that forms the core of the Entity is clearly not the sort of standard entity that normal combatant regional hubs represent. It represents a greater standard, a core processing unit that is driving this entire infestation upon the Domain. It is almost as powerful an opponent in pure terms of neural power than the Progenitor civilization has ever faced before in standard years (1,949,475) of existence, and likely will ever face again.

The Entity seems to be adept at responding to Progenitor incursions with a clear methodology, deeply ingrained - the flex of overwhelming numbers. With that standard of attack, a normal race below the par of the Progenitors could easily be defeated - but facing such an opponent as this will require creative thought and dedicated processing. The Domain simply lacks the necessary numerical superiority to face the Entity ship for ship, individual for individual, and be successful - the civilization will need to be beyond proficient. A perfect effort is necessary in such a situation.

As for the current affairs state, the military will only be able to stall or stalemate the assaulting forces against the VKT sphere. The opposition is drawing a source of numbers from impenetratable and unknown locales, and exploration is clearly a lesser priority with the state of affairs amongst the Domain. With the numerical superiority to launch near-universal attacks against the outermost valence shells of the VKT sphere, the Entity can deprave the inner grids of vital resources - Progenitor forces must counter with absolute perfection. It is all that can win this war at this point.

~Day 23,626 of Entity Contact


x x x


Recorded Transcript of Conduit Nexus, 875,000 Years Before the Present Day

<Discriminate Flare has begun his mission - Dissemination Fleet has launched a massive attack with 9,810 supraluminal warships against the Contra Sphere. It is a doomed attack - likely every single one will fall to the Entity's massive formations. However, it will buy time for Discriminate Flare to puncture the Sphere and attempt to make contact with the Accumulated Intelligence - and wipe it off of the planar grid.>

<You throw around near-10,000-warship fleets as if they were fighters. Where is your compassion? These are no longer numbers - they are Progenitors.>

<With war comes sacrifice, Consort. Each and every one has done his or her duty as they proceed towards the Contra Sphere, one by one. And they will buy time for ultimate victory.>

<Buying time is a skeptical proposition. Your argument holds little water, Primarch. Have you considered failure at all?>

<It has been considered, yes, multiple times. In the case of failure, we have secondary plans ready for deployment. We are not simply sacrificial lambs throwing all of our hopes and prayers into one last-ditch plan - this is simply the most sound strategy at the present time. Concentrated attack has failed to even penetrate the Contra Sphere; this is our best option.>

<And yet best options have so often failed throughout the hallowed halls of history. Will the Progenitors follow in the footsteps of every other civilization to try, a footnote in information planes of the future to educate the young?>

<We are the future, Consort! We are the shining stalwart of times to come - the Entity will provide our baptism by fire to ensure our race learns and progresses on.>

<And for how long will we be that shining city on a hill? How long can we reign sovereigns of the mountain? How long until some unstoppable force pushes us off? How long until the Progenitors once again taste dirt between their teeth?>

<Not our children. Not their children. Not their children thousands of generations to the future. I shall ensure of that - in all my power.>

<And what happens when your power isn't enough, Primarch? What happens when an enemy can play your hand one higher?>


* * * * *


Present Day

Recusant Balance...did you activate the priming charges on that spread of torpedoes?

I think I forgot to activate their intelligences, actually.

That would be apparent. Torpedoes don't just get shot down. In fact, they don't get shot down at all.

They do when I forget to activate their intelligence mechanisms.

Indeed. No matter, their latest communication was very funny. I am now certain - probability .9995 - that they have absolutely no idea what they are facing.

Certainly indeed. Their latest spread of fire, one, is humorous - do you know who they remind me of? The Entity - apparently, overwhelming numbers are valued highly by their culture. What a waste of three hundred mobile projectiles!

The Entity taken down several class ratings, that is. No matter. Allow the weapons to pass into the planar defense grid.

Normally I would question you not to counter them, but you are right - they won't scratch it.

If spatial grids could be scratched. But I understand your use of metaphor, Balance.

Rather than directly intercept the weapons fire from the Andermani vessel - easily within the ability of the port weapons lattice of the Undying Requisite - the One's plan was to let the weapons simply hit the spatial defense grid. It would be "humorous." Besides, the attacking aliens were vain to a degree that exceeded normal conventional thinking - it would be hilarious to throw their words back at them. As if the Progenitor would die from seven measly ships that probably couldn't take down a few Entity vessels, of which the Undying Requisite had slagged in numbers approaching the tens of millions in the past six hundred thousand years of the Progenitor's existence. Closed-minded thinking had that effect.

The wrench in the plan, obviously, was the Amalgamation. With the fleet arriving in now several seconds, they would no doubt draw from the fun the One was enjoying in one-on-several combat against a race that couldn't even put a noticeable decrease in the planar defense grid that surrounded the atomically-arranged combat skin. Their technology simply wasn't up to snuff. The Amalgamation vessels, despite all the help they'd gotten from the One, certainly were capable of being destroyed. If not for the constant thread of engagement by the huge numbers of the Entity, the One would have simply engaged this galaxy by himself.

The weapon fire from the Andermani vessel slashed into the planar defense grid of the Undying Requisite, the ancient Progenitor ship slicing forward through subspace without missing a beat. Torpedoes exploded against the grid's multi-spatial spread, diverting energy everywhere but into the vessel's atomic-stacked combat skin that had survived far worse - exponentially - than this. This was a shower in comparison. If the Andermani had thought they were engaging just another usual warship, the One had another thing in mind.

They seem to appreciate high numbers as the Entity does, remarked Recusant Balance. I suggest we return the favor.

Why not communicate with them again? They seem to take pride in that. And seeing as their pitiful display of weaponry was completely ineffective...

Indeed. I am no intelligence for pride as much as you are an organic loathing their overconfidence; they deserve a lesson in humility.

The One took over weapons himself as Recusant Balance sent back a communication to the Andermani vessel.

<If only you knew the demon that your thinking epitomizes. But seeing as you prefer combat in such methods, we will gladly play your game. Your weapons lack any sort of reasonable power to breach our technology, honed through over two million years of thought and dozens of galaxies in research. He who you mindlessly assault through animalistic tendencies is no casual observer - but rather, a savior. Your arrogance and aggression will go no further to eliminating the Infection - and thus, you must be removed, following in the footsteps of many others. Your pompous, unlearned attitude, however, is a trait gladly removed to eliminate the Accumulated Intelligence.>

2.9 seconds until slipspace departure, One.

Firing frontal lattice arc in a numerical spread fashion. They can have some of their own thought, lost in antiquity when not utilized with stronger technology.

The Undying Requisite spun on its axis, blasting away a smaller torpedo followed by a larger one. A third aperture opened behind the two torpedoes, blasting a "spatial shockwave" in front of the two torpedoes and slightly below them - a mass-reducing field to accelerate the weapons trans-dimensionally until they reached critical detonation point. The torpedoes weren't contact weaponry - rather, proximity explosives that would blast spheres in subspace to cause spatial ripples capable of blasting apart vessels not properly designed to defeat such armament, as the Entity had adapted. It was still good against the Entity's drone swarms, however.

The leading, smaller torpedo fell into place in the mass-reducing field - quickly accelerating beyond normal spatial velocities. The second one fell into place right behind it, seemingly splitting apart - four hundred micromissiles taking the former projectile's place. Each one's artificial intelligence had been activated picoseconds after launch by Recusant Balance. The intelligences had each activated their own micromissile's shield system, allowing each to accept some damage from either energy or mass weapons before rupturing. They would also now, with the intelligences, avoid linear fire with the ease of a fighter.

The lead torpedo wasn't really a torpedo at all - it was a shield, drawing the torps in. It would bring them in just close enough to neccessary, when the micromissiles would blast out in all directions from underneath the planar umbrella and blast apart subspace for hundreds of kilometers - creating a dead zone for undefended or unknowledgeable vessels encountering the fields. As the mechanism for rupturing subspace in such fashion had originated from a galaxy some distance away in the Local Cluster, the One seriously doubted the sentients had seen anything like it - especially by the ease it had violated the mobile feelers.

The lead torp activated, its shell breaking away as a field in appearance to an energy plane activated, swinging forward and rippling through space, generated from a mass generator behind the energy envelope. The shield torpedo would keep going until it hit something - a potential weapon in itself, it could create an energy discharge in the hundreds of petawatts. Low for the Progenitors, however.

The torpedo convoy sped along at a steady acceleration, increasing velocity in linear fashion. They were about two seconds away from discharge of the micromissiles to rampage subspace - and the intelligences were smart. If they detected threat to the weapons, they'd go ahead and discharge early - throwing up the field to catch whatever was in the wake. It wouldn't hurt the One, after all.

The Undying Requisite stormed after the missiles, heading directly towards the Andermani line. The One was fully aware of his own penchant for ramming apart other vessels - he'd done it countless times with the ship, and was more than prepared to do it again here. As much as the Progenitor liked to simply be the commander in battles - giving commands to the Amalgamation to do his fighting for him - he knew that first contact demanded strength, and his vessel was exponentially stronger than anything in the Amalgamation armada, even the massive, 100km-radius Home Ships.

Speaking of, the first vessel - the sole Home Ship to go with the response fleet to engage in-system - exited slipspace, its massive form dwarfing the 380-meter Progenitor vessel, despite the opposite massive disparity in power. Other vessels began popping out from slipspace, the entire armada forming up - maybe it had been overkill, but first contact was about displays of force, not about efficiency in winning. Or so the One believed - he took no chances here about suffering undue losses in blowing apart this system.

OOC: Yeah, you have nowhere near the saturation potential to breach my PD yet. Nowhere near the potential with that lttle ship. And you're lucky I'm nice.

IC:

<Well, that's...bad. New plan everyone!>

The Andermani ships broke off their assault on the single ship as soon as its reinforcements arrived. Point defence once again blasted the remaining missiles out of space, whatever their support had missed. As soon as the fleet had appeared, a case zulu went out, the Empires "scramble" code, calling every ship in the fleet to one of two locations, either the homeworld, thankfully as yet unseen by anyone, or the site of battle. In this case, the majority of the fleet, some 800 ships, appeared in orbit above the homeworld within thirty minutes of the call. Details soon followed, explaining the sudden fleet appearance and the engagement against the enemy vessel. The other 193 ships, or thereabouts, were en route to engage the fleet. It would, in laymans terms, become a slaughter. 7 ships were nearly a fleet, 200 ships were an armada, there was only one supercapitol class ship, and 7 more capitol class ships, but that would be more than enough to devestate the enemy combatants, no questions asked.

The three Destroyers broke off, blazing through the enemy fleet. Faster than any other ship in the fleet, they could reach 80% of lightspeed in seconds, and drop that acceleration just as rapidly, giving them unparalleled maeuverability and agility, as well as the ability to hit hard and keep moving. Now they blazed a track of devastation through the enemy fleet, guns going full bore and missiles launching in double time, hammering out a deadly crescendo of firepower and hate. Moments later and only slightly slower, the cruisers followed them in on a parallell track, turning their own heavier guns and larger missiles against the same enemies, engaging each ship twice over in a short time. The massive battlesip Powerslave, turned its entire battery, primary weapons, secondary armament, linear guns, missile launchers and broadside cannon, enough weapons to reduce a planet to slag in mere minutes, turned against the largest ship in the enemy fleet, it might not be effective immediately, but these were ships of the Imperial Anderman Navy, and there was no surrender, only death, and destruction, as much as they could visit. And soon, allies would be on the way.

The nearest unit was a squadron of Battlecruisers, 3 of the most dangerous ships in the fleet, following hard on their heels would be an additional thirty destroyers, 15 Heavy Cruisers, another pair of battleships, and the Icon of Dread, Superdreadnought, and one of only three in the entire navy. The incursion would be crushed, and any survivors would be hunted down and eradicated.

OOC: See, it won't end when your first fleet is brutally murdered. It won't end until we've murdered all of them.

Kalintern swung round to face the tactical officer.

"Tactical Officer Gilbert, what is the Fourth Territorial Fleet's expected time of arrival?"

The young man answered, "Four minutes, eleven seconds and counting, Captain."

Swinging round to face Mekayla, Kalintern said, "There you have it. Two hundred and fifty heavily armed starships inbound. However, if the enemy force comes through, we are mandated to pull back and defend Kostemetsia Prime. Incidentally, you have permission to link with the station defence grid."

"Then they will arrive only a moment sooner than the reinforcements we requested. December Sixth and most of the Outer Fleet is on its way here as we speak", Mekayla said and then tilted her head back. The AI drew a deep breath, then nodded his head back as if she was pressing it against a wall.

She had linked herself with the station's defense grid, and already she was re-calculating their situation. The station's own AI would have superiority in these matters, Mekayla was merely an assistant in that sense, guiding the Northern Rangerian fire in order to defend the station and the ships in optimal fashion.

"We have every thing we need, jump now" the captain ordered from his position on the bridge. With a flash of light the ship disappeared from the system to head for home to analyze the situation. It would take several jumps to get there but they should be back home in well under thirty minutes.

Fleet Headquarters
In orbit above Empyion

The Excalibur was now well into the loading of the supplies, most of the ammunition and food was now on board. The fights, weapons, and other supplies still had to be finished up but was expected to wrap up within a few hours. Once every thing is loaded the Excalibur will depart and join the 65th Combat patrol group.

On the hanger deck as more aircraft continued coming in to fill the hanger up from end to end Lieutenant Commander Tomoyo was inside her Akira taking it on a simulation test run "Response time is so fast its like i actually am the aircraft, weapons status green, everything else green, though i doubt I'll get used to the two joystick method for a fighter I can understand why it needs to be like that" she said to her self as she ran though the simulations.

OOC: Per Kost, I'll take the high road in this argument. Reach me on MSN if you want to continue bantering.

IC:

Present Day

The enemy vessels entered the centerpoint of the Amalgamation warships, countermeasure systems firing off rapidly - hundreds of thousands of weapons from the organic race blasting out. With their weapons moving quickly and en masse, the use of cluster munitions and spread weaponry was an easy countermeasure answer. The light munitions of the enemy fast ships were either easy kills or virtually useless against the race that had developed against enemies for hundreds of thousands of years - they were barely making an impact against the large, targetable ships of the Amalgamation - the smaller ones were utilizing manueverability to avoid. With seventy vessels (including the Undying Requisite), a full quarter of the galactic incursion fleet was on hand. Opposite to the inhabitants of this galaxy, quality, not quantity, mattered in a bigger picture.

Point defense was getting slightly bothersome. Though the Amalgamation could simply launch a few hundred thousand munitions and overwhelm enemy point defense with numbers - was there really any point to that? No. The enemy ships were focusing on the Home Ship with some firepower - but against forces that had sent supernovas racing across systems with resonating energy torpedoes, slagging a planet was common business - even for other races in the galaxy of these inhabitants.

Countermeasure systems from the Amalgamation consisted of organic weaponry - destabilizing energy fields to counter against the standard energy weapon, clouds of explosive biopods that sent missile and projectile weaponry veering off course, if it didn't destroy them outright with the amount of explosive force projected. Concentrated streams of plasma - able to utilize heat energy as well as concussive kinetic force - finished off straggling weaponry that managed to make it past the initial fields. If that wasn't enough, the few remaining munitions focused inwards on the Home Ship impacted the vessel's layered energy grid, projected from bioprojectors grown from ground - a form of shield. Having contact with an ancient alien emissary helped things.

The Undying Requisite itself changed tactics, scrapping the missile technique to focus on point-to-point weaponry - making the abrupt starting-and-stopping of the Andermani vessels relative pointlessness. Not only was the force of their dramatic momentum shifts going to make their hulls more attractive targets, but also giving plenty of easy opportunities to straight-line, sustained weapons fire. The simple individual munition types of the Andermani allowed for easy tracking at the large engagement distances, and while the Andermani were sending ships at close distances, they were less effective up close, unless against the heavily-defended Home Ship.

Such, the Andermani weapon discharges up close were quickly pursued. Tracking the little ships wasn't a problem - the Entity's forces moved quickly with large drone swarms, having considerably less mass and therefore able to execute such quick manuevers much more gracefully and effortlessly than the ungainly, clumsy-looking Andermani vessels attempting to do something similar. Speed was one thing they had, but simple brute weapons fire could deny such an advantage. As such, streamed plasma apertures from the Amalgamation vessels simply blasted trajectories directly ahead of the Andermani vessels from the time neccessary to intercept, with pod swarms exploding enemy ordinance before it contacted with the energy layers of the defensive grid. The Undying Requisite contributed here - dumping off proximity antimatter mines around the courses of transit for the smaller, skittish Andermani vessels and Telrosian fighters. They were in essence dictating the terms of the battle now.

Against the distance vessels, the larger vessels of the Amalgamation simply resorted to brute force fire. They could have gone a little more innovative, indeed, but there was no point at the moment - the fleet was of little consequence. While countermeasure systems continued to pick off high percentages of enemy ordinance with ease - far more than enough force to blast the enemy ordinance apart before it closed to damaging distance - the Amalgamation vessels opened fire of their own. Short-range mass effect fields were utilized, to affect projectiles just outside the firing launch of the vessels. Besides being a good PD device for reducing the kinetic energy of incoming projectiles, it also propelled the outbound plasma chunks - varying from the size of a quarter-meter diameter to amorphous blobs the size of fighters - at velocities nearing light speed before cutting out, allowing outbound projectiles to regain all kinetic energy and not lose velocity.

Several thousand plasma pieces blasted out from the Amalgamation fleet at the vessels engaging from range while streamed weapons continued to interdict the possible pathways of the skittish, quick enemy vessels that were doing virtually nothing in close.

Directed plasma weaponry? The low energy density just confirmed the foolishness of the Setians opponents. Bolts washed across the shields like a warm mist, while point defense guns reached out to swat drones from space. Mines were bypassed harmlessly, the enemy seemingly ignorant of the multidimensional nature of space, while the attackers energy weapons clawed at a void that was never to be filled, as weapons based on a linear track missed wide of the constantly moving Andermani. Particle cannon blazed back in return, still keeping their beams locked on the enemy ships. The first Setian battlecruiser appeared, across the T of an enemy vessel, the gate from which it emerged a molecular thin blade that would not be denied, mere kilometers in front of the oncoming ship. Turrets ignored the vessel that was soon to impact a gate wide enough to admit a ten kilometer battlecruiser and immobile as a sun, when it hit it would look like a cross section from a schoolbook, the gate an immovable object, and at such short range, the shp an unstoppable force. Instead, heavy weapons tacked towards the massive ship that had taken Powerslave under fire. It was obvious their weapons technology was beyond primitive, plasma weapons were a joke in the Andermani arsenal, having been entirely skipped over for more powerful, and directed, particle beams. Two more battlecruisers appeared on the flank of the Home Ship, their own main guns taking a bead and unleashing the relativistic hell that was Setian particle beam weaponry. Their secondary weapons tracked other targets, and missie batteries added their own armaments to the salvoes already clogging the void. Missile density went up immensely as more and more ships began to target the same number of enemies. It was a losing battle on the part of the attackers, they simply didn't know it yet.

The cruisers took more hits than their smaller counterparts, but their heavier defenses made it almost as meaningless, a hit might snake past point defenses now and then, but it simply wasted itself on the shields of the Andermani ships. Destroyers began to speckle into existence throughout the enemy fleet, each one a minor threat on its own, but becoming more and more dangerous, as their numbers jumped from three to 15, and their fire began to concentrate on the smaller enemy ships, bringing down by numbers what they could not defeat by finesse.

Powerslave continued its assault on the largest enemy ship, simply absorbing fire, not even hinting at what capabilities lay concealed beneath its 13 kilometer bulk, gate generators spun up, and marine teams prepared themselves to board their opponents. Some nations, they knew, used teleporters and similar devices that were hampered by shielding. A boson gate had no such trouble, simply linking to an inactive gate boson(which may be found almost anywhere) inside the ship, and bypassing its shields altogether.

"Jump complete captain, preparing final jump calculations" the FTL jump officer said to the captain from across the bridge "Good lets hurry up, though i'm glad we are back in friendly territory we need to get the fleet HQ"

"What part of our territory are we near any way?" The XO asked.

"Ter'angi prime sir"

"ah a nice planet, i plan to go there for my next vacation"

"I'll just be happy to get back to my family in Hanoka"

"Thats right your from The capital aren't you?"

"Yeah, great city, I got a perfect view of the ocean from my place" the XO said with a smile on his face. Remembering home was what usually kept members of ZAFT going on deployments, both long and short alike. Since the small patrol ship was now in friendly they were within the defensive network that protected all the planets and colonies.

The FTL jump officer finished the calculations for the final jump back to fleet HQ "Ready to jump captain" the officer said "Then do it, jump" he ordered. With a flash of light the ship was gone for the trip back to the Emperyion system. They would jump into the outer edge of the system send a message, then it would take a sub-light travel of about 25 minutes to get to fleet HQ.

(Necromantic bump)