NationStates Jolt Archive

"The only winning move is to cheat."
- Fleetmind Kara

******

Stars don't normally go out this way. They tend to balloon into red giants, or shrink quickly into collapsars or black holes. A rare few even explode, showering their surroundings with radiation and newforged elements. The one thing that you can't expect from a nice, mild-mannered Class G star like this is for it to fade away quietly.

Guess what this one's doing.

Add its location (the depths of Charybdis), and the personality of the entity we're looking for (megalomaniac with a voracious appetite for materials and energy), it's pretty obvious what's going on.

Fleetmind Kara is putting an old idea into motion. She's wrapping this nameless star in a high-tech shell, aiming to capture and harness its entire energy output. Her entire fleet is likely holed up around it, gorged and humming with fresh stellar radiation. When it's complete and running at full capacity, she will have full access to the power of the swallowed star - unimaginable amounts of energy, the capability for massive destruction.

It's not quite finished yet, though. The star has not completely vanished. If you move quickly...

[OOC: Drop me a line on MSN or AIM (the links are on the left) if you want to get involved. HT and Allanea are pre-approved due to past involvement in this plot, but other people are welcome to join as well IF YOU ASK FIRST. I'm not trying to be elitist here, but I need to talk to people before they post so that they know what I'm doing and what's going on.]

OOC: This is a placeholder for future posts. I will do something about this over the weekend.

"Sir. New data. Withdrawal from the Republic done. We're no longer a member. As such, this battleplate now exists. Officially."

"Interesting. Are we getting any ships?"

Watcher's voice was pained. "We granted the Aristedes to the Republic. They can't complain about us leaving. The Incandescence is apparently out of contact - it's as if it doesn't even exist. That leaves two battleplates in service, ourselves, and the Constantine is defending Hypatia. One fully-functional battleplate, sir."

"Superfortresses?"

"There's only one in service. The others are forming the basis for two new battleplates."

"Can we get it? What about standard ships?"

A barking laugh came from Watcher. "Nothing bigger than a scout corvette, sir. I could requisition fifty thousand single-laser corvettes, but that'd form less than a millionth of our firepower. I'll put in a request for the Victorian Architecture. It's probably engaged, however. Something called the "Acquisition."

"Acquisition?"

"Data received, sir. Apparently, the Acquisition is codename for a new race. We aided them in a war, and.. they're returning the favor. Kelauans, they're called."

"Can we get some of those?"

That was a development. A message was sent to the newly-acquired Keluan. While their ships were still battered from their recent wars, they had more to spare than the Realm did - at least at the moment.

Your services are required. [datafile]. That contains low-level information on the rogue AI known as "Kara". Presently, she has wiped out 90% of an Allanean battlegroup and crippled a Realm battleplate sent to destroy her fleet. We succeeded, however, suspicions are mounting that it was only a secondary fleet. We are presently attempting to locate her resource-gathering operations, and destroy them. Our location is attached to this message. If you have any mobile shipyards or repair ships available at present, bring them en masse.

- AI of Watcher in the Shadows, Acting Commandant of said ship

The Acquisition had indeed been made; the Realm had aided the Kelauans in finally wiping out the Arl'skich, or had at least broken their back and the Dominion could finish them off at their leisure. As such, the Dominion had submitted to the Travellian Empire, and had become the first of their protectorates and servants. The Kelauans did not mind much; they had a powerful ally, the chance to fight even more, and the Arl'skich would be wiped out soon. All in all, they did not regret their decision. Of course, there had been some dissenters......but they weren't around any more. Democracy, which had a chance of coming back despite the warrior culture, had been totally annihilated with the rise of Praetor Kalthir. The veteran commander of the many campaigns launched into Arl'skich space, both fleets and ground forces, he had been the perfect choice to become the leader of the new government. Now, the government was more of a caste system, in the sense that he chose all the members for each section, and the higher rankings went to more established warriors and generals, while the menial tasks and jobs went to citizens who weren't in the military. Those that fought in the war and had joined the military were obviously favored over those that hadn't, although it wasn't animosity driven. It was simply that they had earned it through battle, and deserved it. The warrior society which was building itself accepted this.

Now, in the palace of the Praetor, which had been constructed during the end of the war and the short-lived rebellion, the Praetor sat in his office, looking out over the capital world of Telros V. Their home world, this was the center of the Kelauan Dominion. The Kelauans were named after the leader which had formed the Dominion in the first place, uniting all the disparate nations in the past, Kelaua. The orbiting fleet was much smaller now, with the Arl'skich beaten and being hunted down everything, and the shipyards were busy repairing the few damaged ships in the Navy, and churning out civilian ships. Trade had suffered and they needed to rebuild it quickly. If they wanted to be able to serve as they had agreed with the Realm, they would need to have a strong economy and good Navy and Army. Though, the latter two were already in good shape. His personal holopod flickered and an A.I. appeared.

"My apologies for the disturbance, Praetor."

<"Do not worry about it, Ashana. I wasn't doing anything. What is it?"> He turned to face her, as her eyes went half-lidded. That was a sign she was accessing files, and within a second she opened them again.

"We have received a transmission from the Realm, or at least from one of their A.I.'s."

Kalthir stared at her for several second; they had been contacted this quickly? What could have happened to cause that? <"Show me."> Ashana nodded and waved a hand; the computer on his desk activated and played the message on the screen:

Your services are required. [datafile]. That contains low-level information on the rogue AI known as "Kara". Presently, she has wiped out 90% of an Allanean battlegroup and crippled a Realm battleplate sent to destroy her fleet. We succeeded, however, suspicions are mounting that it was only a secondary fleet. We are presently attempting to locate her resource-gathering operations, and destroy them. Our location is attached to this message. If you have any mobile shipyards or repair ships available at present, bring them en masse.

- AI of Watcher in the Shadows, Acting Commandant of said ship


Kalthir sat down heavily in his chair; an A.I. who was able to go rogue and form its own faction. A Realm battleplate, bastions of power they had seen firsthand, and almost an entire battlegroup of Allanea wiped out or heavily damaged. That was a lot to take in.....It would appear that something new had come up, to replace the Arl'skich. They had to fight to the Arl'skich, now something even stronger than they was threatening them. He looked up at Ashana.

<"Did you send a copy of the datafile to Dominion Intelligence?">

"Of course. As per procedure Alpha 341, I sent it as soon as I received it."

He nodded. <"Good, good. What did the file entail?">

She waved at the computer. "It's better understand seen than told." Kalthir raised an eyebrow, then moved over to the computer. A video file was displayed, although paused. He activated it, and began to watch as the Allanean battlegroup arrived and began to engage strange ships, the A.I. Kara's no doubt. The subsequent arrival of the battleplate, and the fierce battle that ensued. He watched what was obviously an intense and desperate battle, with the Realm and its ally winning a Pyhrric victory. He had to restrain himself from gasping when the battleplate cut itself into pieces and accelerate all but one part to destroy the ships and the munitions sent at it. Although he did not know all the weaponry sent at the battleplate, he could tell that it would have been destroyed otherwise. The video ended with the destruction of the fleet. Other files, information on tactics, hull composition, and weapons appeared. He sat back and let out a breath. Ashana waited patiently.

<"Well....do we have any mobile repair stations or ships?">

Ashana started and then nodded, her eyes closing as she focused on searching. A moment later, she opened them again. "Surprisingly, we do. The old Titan-class stations we had during the beginning of the Great War are still around, and have been modified for terraforming planets and serving as mobile repair stations for our fleets during the war."

<"Good. How many are closest to the Novaris system?">

A pause. "About four, sir."

<"Good. Have all four break off what they are doing and send them to the Novaris system. Battlefleet Warsong is to break off from whatever it is doing and gather at rally point Zulu in that system, and wait for the stations. Then, when they arrived, they are to go to those coordinates and defend the injured battleplate, and use the stations to repair it. Have reserve fleets Armageddon, and Inferno be put on notice, just in case.">

"It will be done, Praetor."

He nodded. <"Good. That will be all, Ashana."> The A.I. nodded and faded away, as the Praetor closed his eyes.


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


Some time later, at the location given by Watcher, a large fleet arrived filled with ships of every type. One Deity-class Warcruiser (http://www.classic-space.com/plugins/autogallery/Gallery/BigShips/5128fleet_terran.jpg), the KDS Bloodwraith, two Progenitor-class Carriers (http://www.classic-space.com/plugins/autogallery/Gallery/BigShips/5160_1100008971_large.jpg), two Assault-class Heavy Cruisers (http://www.classic-space.com/plugins/autogallery/Gallery/BigShips/artwork.jpeg-19.jpeg), four Guardian-class Destroyers (http://www.classic-space.com/plugins/autogallery/Gallery/BigShips/AFFfox-demoshot.jpg), five Shield-class Light Cruisers (http://www.classic-space.com/plugins/autogallery/Gallery/BigShips/concept_Vfrigate.jpg), and six Aggressor-class Frigates (http://www.classic-space.com/plugins/autogallery/Gallery/BigShips/pleh.jpg). Along with them came four large bulky ships, the Titan-class World Station (http://www.classic-space.com/plugins/autogallery/Gallery/BigShips/ss014.jpg)

A message was sent out to the battleplate:

This is Warlord Kraesis of Battlefleet Warsong. I have arrived with reinforcements and four mobile repair stations. How best do we proceed in repairing your ship?

The stations stayed near the fleet, although calling them stations was a bit weak. They lived up to their Titan designation with being almost as large as most worlds. After all, it simply worked by deploying its two halves over a world, and projected a field to begin terraforming, or in the sense of fleets, over a fleet and began repairing by sending out drones. Now, they would be tasked with repairing the battleplate, no easy task.

OOC: Allanea hasn't posted - let's continue on as best we can, hm? I suppose he'll jump in when he can.

IC:

[secureline06]
Thank you, Keluaun allies. I am the Watcher in the Shadows. At present, my firepower is but a fraction of what it was. We do not, unfortunately, possess the hyperdense materials we would need to perform a full restoration of my ship - nor do we have the time. Therefore, I am asking merely that you provide what repairs you can - this vessel may have to be expotentially increased in size in order to attain previous firepower levels, but it is required. Previously, I was a manufacturing vessel, however, I am requesting as many missile and laser upgrades as you can, as well as annie-plants. It is estimated that I will have to measure some four extra kilometres in both length and breadth in order to gain eighty percent of my previous firepower. While these repairs will not be simple, at present, I have vast amounts of Von Neumann probes scouring the galaxy for Kara. It should not take more than a week for us to find her - the most conservative estimates is nine days. If we are in luck, it may only take two or three.

Furthermore, your fleet will probably be best served in picket capacity to myself. I am now quite aware of Kara's.. tricks, and, with a sufficent sphere of pickets, we should be able to increase our efficiency against her by some significant degree.

If it is quite all right with you, I would like to place quantum-entangled links on your ships. Kara's FTLi kept me significantly blinder than I should've been last battle, and having quantum links will allow our sensors to be significantly more efficient than a single ship's alone would be.

I hope to be able to launch an assault on her positions within a day, hoping we find her within that timeframe. I have requested fleet backup, but the only asset we have presently available is the Victorian Architecture, and Victoria is busy. Therefore, we will, at most, have myself, your fleet, and possibly Allanean fleet assets.

The message ended, and the ship's core turned over, almost sickly-looking. Watcher had not bothered to reconstruct what he could - his armour was high-density and elastic enough to prevent damage from most small shots, but any manufacturing he did would be in plain old durasteel, which was worth as much as paper against the Fleetmind's weapons.


A few hours later, incidentally, a single probe would materialize near Kara's fleet. It would last for perhaps a tenth of a second, before a faster-than-light burst of gamma-rays turned it into molten metal, but it lasted long enough. The repairs would not be able to finish, but, Watcher reasoned, they wouldn't really need to. He had fought with brute force last time, for what in the universe could destroy a battleplate? That arrogance had cost him dearly.

This time, he intended to play smart.

And hard.

They've spotted her. Unfortunately for them, that's all they've managed to do.

What the probe saw in its brief pre-mortem glimpse was a massive blob of jamming and distortion, wrapped in a close orbit around the star. Although they were unmistakably Kara's patterns, it would be impossible to resolve them into sizes or numbers of ships. The attackers will be coming in blind, with no way to determine the size of Kara's fleet until they close to within a few AU and battle is actually joined.

The mad AI-queen herself maintains radio silence. Through her thousand electronic eyes and ears, she watches/listens/learns. It's a little more than four days' travel time before the showdown - in the meantime, she intends to spread her own net of probes and gather what little information she can.

"Greetings, Watcher in the Shadows, I am Warlord Yarlong of Battlefleet Warsong. I have been given unprecedented power and abilities to help you in whatever way I can, and I will go to the utmost of my ability to do so. Now, thanks to the technology you gave us earlier, our repair stations will be able to easily fulfill the demands you require. It may take some time at first, as your ship is quite small to the stations at the moment, and only when you get larger enough for the others to join in, will we be able to speed up repairs. But you have expected this, so I will have them begin immediately."

A pause occurred between the communications as Yarlong sent orders for the Titan-class World Stations began to slow move away from the fleet and headed for the pitiful remnants of the battleplate. The other three stayed in a semi circle around the ship as the last one positioned itself over the last portion of the divided ship and then secured it in an energy field. It would then notice that the energy field supplied power to its systems so that when they were finished making a a weapons battery for example, it would instantly get power if the annie plant was not ready. That way, they could be notified of mistakes or errors, and go back to fix them. The next thing to occur was that ports all over the underside of the ship within the field opened and a literal tsunami of drones emerged. If one was looking from outside the field, they would see the entire space within the field filled with a mass of grey, blinking drones, and the flashes from their tools would look as if a miniature sun was going nova.

The ship would then begin to expand, as the drones took materials from the station and applied it to the hull, and with the vast numbers of drones, the work was going along at a quick clip, enabling them to build fairly quickly. However, the sheer size of the ship, and the demand to be made bigger than usual, made it so time would still be a factor. The other stations remained close and waited, so they could speed up the process that had just begun. IN the meantime, the Warlord opened communications again.

"As for your second request, we can easily fill that function. We promised to aid you in war, and be guided by you, as you would aid us in times of need. To not do so would be dishonorable and breaking our pact. Simply notify what positions for my ships to take and I will gladly fill them. I have seen the tactics this A.I. uses and how quickly they are done, and I am afraid that even with the upgrades you gave us, our A.I.'s are still not up to task to facing her, and I doubt I can do better than an A.I. aside from some isolated cases. And as for the links, feel free to do so. Any advantages we can gain against the enemy should be taken; our objective is to win with the least cost to us in men and material; all considerations should be taken towards that goal.

As for reinforcements, if the need is great, I may be able to get the Praetor to lend me my full war-fleet. However, our nation is still rebuilding and our defenses are of utmost importance. We do not want to weaken ourselves and return home to a besieged nation. However, if you deem it enough and give me something to tell the Praetor convincingly enough, I may get those reinforcements."

The link cut out, and the Warlord waited for a reply to the things he agreed to, and began to prepare himself for the future battle that was to come. He motioned for his A.I., Kasara, to begin battle simulations with the data received from the Realm on Kara. As he fought the battle over and over again, he realized one thing. Unless the Watcher had some strategy plucked away to help save the day, he was going to see his Battlefleet ravaged. Even when he added in having a full Warfleet, the losses he saw were horrific. The coming battle was going to be even bloodier than any he had faced during the War of Annihilation with the Arl'skich. He could only hope that they would be ready when the time came.....

A few days passed. In that time, the basest of repairs were made to the Watcher. That was not to say the Keluaun were ineffective, merely that the time spent to construct a battleplate was measured in decades, not days. It was done as well as it could be within the timeframe.

New senses flooder Watcher, and he expanded his consciousness through new computer-nodes, cloning new crewmen, filling new annie-plants.

Ok. Here's the situation. Kara is.. eating a star. I'm assuming some sort of stellar construct. We're going to run in there, and blow it up. We're going to set up some interdiction fields, as well as a smallish FTL-fire system. I've scouted it out. There's a few planets, a few gas giants - enough to hide some serious firepower around. We're going to jump in, do as much damage as possible to her construct, and check her fleet strength. Chances are, she'll be able to annihilate us in a pitched battle. We'll crash her little construct, and, if we can't win, leave with all possible speed. Hopefully, we'll be able to draw her into a trap. Until we can beef up our fleet, we just need to prevent her from building up as quickly as possible.

Any questions?

Ok. Here's the situation. Kara is.. eating a star. I'm assuming some sort of stellar construct. We're going to run in there, and blow it up. We're going to set up some interdiction fields, as well as a smallish FTL-fire system. I've scouted it out. There's a few planets, a few gas giants - enough to hide some serious firepower around. We're going to jump in, do as much damage as possible to her construct, and check her fleet strength. Chances are, she'll be able to annihilate us in a pitched battle. We'll crash her little construct, and, if we can't win, leave with all possible speed. Hopefully, we'll be able to draw her into a trap. Until we can beef up our fleet, we just need to prevent her from building up as quickly as possible.

Any questions?


The Warlord nodded in understanding, although his brow was furrowed in a bit of confusion. "I understand, Watcher, but I am confused on a couple things. I looked over the technology you gave us, so we understand the FTli, but what is this FTli-fire system? I am not quite sure by what you are saying about this. Every step we take is crucial, so I want to get this right. Also, I assume I am to take up picket position around your ship, so I can hold off some of the fire coming at you. If so, how will I be able to fire on the star if I am busy holding off the beginning tendrils of Kara's fleet? We both know how bloody fast that construct is with her fleet coordination."

The Republic, formerly allied with Hyperspace Travels, was not about to turn a blind eye to the situation. Word of the rogue AI reached them through their extensive intelligence networks, and they responded.

While Taledonia may have been the diplomatic capital of the Republic, the Marionetonians widely regarded themselves as the financial and military power behind the power. Though the parting of the ways had been more peaceful than most such, the Golemnus Shipyards had still been busy to help make up for the military attrition.

Thus, it was utterly predictable that the Republic's newest Battle Plate, the Pandora's Surprise, came within communications range and issued a signal.


The Republic will not be outdone by its upstart provinces.
Pandora's Surprise is the first of several of our ships
that we would like to contribute to your efforts. Please
respond expediently.


OOC:

Actually, I rather enjoyed picking on Taledonia with HT on the Republic forum. Any animosity between us is strictly IC. Nonetheless, it COULD be a fun angle to RP the Arrogant Republic nosing in to "show them dadburned drop-outs a thing or two." Hope you don't mind, HT.

And then, space itself seemed to swirl and burn as Allanean ships emerged from hyperspace. Sure, they were late – but it was the Allaneans that started this party, and they would by God finish it.

Since the last engagement, they have equipped three fleets' worth of sailors with the Immortality Technology of the Athan, and they had all three of them now deploying – six hundred ships, diverted posthaste from the Federation Front (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=548649). There was one dominating thought now driving the Allanean Navy into this conflict.

The Allanean Central Intelligence Agency knew that the rogue Fleetmind was the force that first fired on The Fedral Union's forces as they attempted to land on Mars, and they suspected that the Fleetmind had a hand in the Quickbronze Incident – causing the virtual destruction of Aumanii civilization. Here, at last, punishment would come.

Kazansky's Red Fleet was deployed in it's full numbers – 1,800 ships, painted in deep red and controlled by a small crew of 300 men assisted by droids and AI. The ships were old, of course, rejects of various navies or legacy-tech constructs. But the purpose of the fleet was such that for it, even the oldest freighter would serve merrily.

An official announcement was made by the Allanean Congress, sent out across the ESUS Battlenet:

Rarely do we engage in vengeance. Vengeance is against our national culture, against what Allaneans believe in. We believe in self-defense, and we believe in punishment for one's crimes. But sometimes, the two coincide very happily with vengeance.

Today, we will engage in vengeance upon Kara, as she deserves. For every Aumanii, Augmented and Federal citizen killed. For every ship damaged, every stone uprooted, every bit of civilization she threatens - today, we declare a war of extinction against the Fleetmind.

Kara! We know you hear us! This is where you die!

"A Republic battleplate?"

Watcher laughed.

"Even the Aristedes is the best they have, and we stripped her down to almost nothing. Nonetheless, I'm not going to turn down an addition to my resources."

Charmed, old friends, I'm sure. I advise you, however, that Kara is quite capable when it comes to combat. I'd prepare to have your pretty little ship's paint job ruined, at the very least.

The battleplate whirled, antimatter and fusion plants powering up. It would not go into battle so unprepared again. Almost fifty-two thousand laser-drones, designed to provide an outer picket and scanning network for the battleplate, had been manufactured on short notice, as well as the Keluaun, who would provide the second line of defense. There were other ideas prepared, and Watcher was constantly manufacturing more.

Change of plans, Keluaun allies. With the addition of the Allaneans, and possibly the Republic, I think it would, perhaps, be more convenient to fight this one.. conventionally. Besides. Kara almost killed me. I'd much rather return the favor in person. At present, I'm going to be pumping almost all my power into FTL-interdiction fields. If she escapes, this could last forever.

All allies. Our battleplan should now be simple. Destroy Kara's stellar construct, deny her escape, destroy her fleet. The first is crucial. If we do not succeed, we are lost. The second and third go hand-in-hand. If the Fleetmind is to be stopped, it must be exterminated. Therefore, I will be devoting the majority of my systems to producing a temporary system-wide FTLi field. My shields will still be online, however, the vast majority of my gravitics and weaponry will not be. No doubt the stellar construct will be powering in-system defenses, so taking it down should be a priority, regardless of losses. While I can maintain faster-than-light denial, we will be able to hunt down and annihilate the last vestiges of her fleet.

Luck to us all.

Watcher out.

The battleplate would need to be the first to jump. If Kara had any idea of the forces arrayed against her, she might well choose to fight another day.

The Watcher jumped with the rest of the fleet, and, as it entered the edge of the system, the FTL denial system whirred into life. Just before it did, a message propagated through the system.

Hello, darlin'. Miss me?

There you are. I've been waiting for you.

I see you brought friends. Friends are good. Means I have less mopping-up to do afterwards. Better to take care of it all at once.

This star system is a mess. The outer limits are fairly clear - a single gas giant orbits quietly at a little more than 5 AU from the star, trailing a small contigent of moons and captured asteroids. A few automated gas mines dot the upper reaches of its atmosphere, but a quick scan reveals them to be unarmed and harmless. A few lonely rocks drift here and there among the strip-mined remains of a former asteroid belt at 14 AU out.

It gets hairy quickly, though. At about 30 light-seconds from the star, there might be an asteroid belt. Or possibly a planet. Or maybe a battlefleet the size of a planet. Or any combination of the three; it's damn near impossible to tell, because from that point inwards, the orbits are saturated with over one million electronic warfare drones. There's so much jamming and spatial distortion that even the star itself is indistinct, its image smeared into a confusing blur almost an entire AU wide.

The little scout-drones sent ahead of the main allied force get zapped by something before they manage to get a decent glimpse of anything. Their dying reports seem indicate that whatever weapons are killing them are fairly weak - perhaps capable of making cruisers think twice, but certainly not a threat to something so large as the battleplates. But to clear out the source of the jamming with weapons fire or pierce through it with concentrated scans, the allied fleet will have to approach to within light-seconds of the jamming field.

Kara's own FTLi comes up slowly, reaching an area only 1 AU across, centered on the star. Presumably the stellar construct is generating it, but the electronic warfare field is making it impossible to know for certain. Although small, the field is incredibly concentrated and convoluted - even a battleplate-sized hyperdrive stands little chance of breaking through it by brute force, and it would take hours of analysis on conventional quantum computers in order to circumvent it.

I don't even really have to hold you here - you know that this is your only chance to stop me. But old habits die hard, y'know? I've laid out the welcome mat. Make yourself at home. Because once you come in... you aren't going to leave.

Oh, sweetheart.

Scans are swept across the system, irritating bands of indiscernibility making it hard to fathom what Kara might have. Not enough. Not nearly enough. Watcher can't go in there. Not yet. If he did, he might find nothing strong enough to stop him. But he can't be sure. If there's another fleet in there, he's as good as dead. And with the FTLi field down, Kara can leave at her pleasure if she happens to lose.

Which is the important thing. If Kara has superior fleet strength, she wins. If Kara has inferior fleet strength, but can escape, she leaves, rebuilds, and wins. The only situation in which it's even possible to scrape a victory is if she's trapped and killed. Watcher doesn't have much firepower.

He uses what he has carefully. Tiny pieces of dust are jumped in around the FTLi field, thousands and thousands of tonnes of spacedust. Travelling, incidentally, at immensely high speeds. It's not much of a weapon. Against proper ships, it'll bounce off harmlessly, or, at most, heat up the armour.

Against EM drones, it should be deadly. After a moment, Watcher sits, and waits. Hopefully, he can clear that field before he's forced to go in. His FTLi has time. Antimatter was refilled before this round of combat, so, if he's lucky, the combined fleet can clear away Kara before there's a problem. If not, he might be forced to more drastic measures.

Either way...

Neither are you.

Deep within the bowels of Pandora's Surprise, Bill Kemp, a technician, third grade, sat before a video console, next to his fellow tech and new friend, Roger Goering. Kemp had only recently transferred to the Surprise from the prototype battle plate, Surgeon's Hammer. As such, he was still finding out about the chain of command. This was where Roger came in.

"So how good is ol' Ironhead, anyway?" Bill asked.

"Well," Roger replied, "that depends on what you mean by 'good.' He's really very by-the-book, but, for him, winning is everything, and he'll do anything for it. He's never lost a battle--in simulation or reality, but he can take heavy losses."

"Sounds like a Marionetonian to me," Kemp replied.

"True enough," Goering said. He put his hand on the microspeaker that was stuck to his left ear. "Quiet now," he said, "it's time for the address."

Both men immediately stopped talking and bent over their consoles. In a moment, a picture appeared in the video screen in front of them. A similar picture was broadcast throughout the entire 12-kilometer ship and beyond.

Josef "Ironhead" Rommel stood at a podium. He was an aging man, with gray temples sprouting amid black hair, heavy set, and light of complexion. Yet, there was a strange intelligence in his piercing, blue eyes. Rank insignias bespangled most of his ceremonial toga, with a shirt and tie--traditional Marionetonian garb--visible underneath. Before him sat the elite of his special forces. They were dressed entirely in black.

"A glorious new day dawns for the Republic," he said, "and you, the patriots and defenders of the Republic's honor, have been chosen to play an historic role on this new day. As I'm sure you all know, an AI--an unliving construct made to enhance the abilities of our fellow men--has turned against us and, if permitted, will one day grow to threaten all of mankind and any other organic species with whom it comes in contact. It is our privilege and our duty as warriors and as men to hold the line against this abomination and preserve civilization throughout the galaxy. I will not sugar-coat this for you: some of you will not be returning from this engagement. The entire ship could be sacrificed to ensure the survival of civilization against this aberrant mockery of life. But no warrior can ask for more than to die for the glory of his cause, and, for this opportunity, I thank the Republic and its many allies. We stand united. We stand resolute. We stand as one. Hail the soldiers! HAIL THE REPUBLIC!"

As one, the soldiers rose to their feet and raised both arms to the sky.

"HAIL THE REPUBLIC!" they shouted together.

Ironhead raised his arms. "HAIL!" he yelled.

"HAIL!" came the reply.

"HAIL!"

"HAIL!"

"HAIL!"

Before long, virtually every soul on the entire ship had joined in the battle cry. "HAIL!" echoed through every corridor.

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

After the speech had ended, Ironhead joined his second-in-command, Hillary Hitler, also recently transferred from Surgeon's Hammer, in the war room.

"Ave, Hitler," Rommel said, entering the room.

"Well," Hitler replied, standing, one arm raised. "Looks like the troops are ready for war."

"Of course," Rommel said. "They're always ready. They're the Republic's finest. How are things going with our allies?"

"Well, they don't know exactly what to make of us. Seems that the Golemnus shipyards are one of the Republic's better-kept secrets."

"That's not entirely a bad thing," Rommel pointed out.

"I agree," Hitler replied. "But they're willing to take help from anywhere they can. Quite frankly, I don't like this thing. That AI's got their top brass spooked, and they're making hasty decisions as a result."

"Perhaps," Ironhead noted, "but even a poorly-thought plan, well-executed, TODAY beats the best of plans done TOMORROW, when the enemy has had time to reinforce."

"Let's hope," Hillary countered. "The other battle plate isn't at top form. She took a tremendous beating, and she hasn't fully recovered."

"Not surprising, actually. Without the resources of the Republic--besides, are you saying that we're overmatched?"

"Not even remotely. All I'm pointing out is that this AI has become not only unstable but unpredictable. We need to be ready for a few surprises."

"Yes, of course. Good thing you're along for the ride. That is why they put you here, isn't it--that, and your flair for diplomacy. You don't think that you just chanced to be put in charge of the diplomatic angle, do you?"

"Thank you, Tierarch. I'll try to live up to those expectations."

Rommel chuckled. "Now, I know why you're doing that."

As the Warlord waited for an answer, Asara appeared suddenly, her eyes bright with new information rolling across them. "Warlord, I am detecting new arrivals incoming into the system. Identification signature reads as Allanean." Yarlong opened his eyes as he sat there, looking for the Realm response. He turned his gaze to look at the Allaneans appearing on the screen, having just arrived in response to the call set forth by Watcher. He smiled; finally, he was starting to think that they were the only ones left to fight this battle. Yarlong watched with a smile as he read the message of vengeance the Allaneans sounded as their arrival speech. It was as good as any, and if the enemy had been organic, they would have felt fear this day. However, they fought an A.I., who was not so easily frightened.

Then the alarm rang again, and again Asara appeared. "Another contact, a massive one. Battleplate size.....identification unknown." His eyes narrowed and he was about to call battle stations when the message stating they were from the Republic came through. So....the former alliance of the Realm wished to come to their aid, to "show them up"? He chuckled; how arrogant. But he was not going to let them know that; they needed every ship they got. Asara appeared again. "Sir, incoming message from Watcher"

<"Put it through.">

Change of plans, Keluaun allies. With the addition of the Allaneans, and possibly the Republic, I think it would, perhaps, be more convenient to fight this one.. conventionally. Besides. Kara almost killed me. I'd much rather return the favor in person. At present, I'm going to be pumping almost all my power into FTL-interdiction fields. If she escapes, this could last forever.


Agreed, Watcher. We are ready whenever you are. May your blades be sharp in the battle ahead."

Asara pulled up the message detailing the plan from Watcher and Yarlong leaned in, an action mimicked by all the captains of the ships in his Warfleet that were linked to this meeting.

All allies. Our battleplan should now be simple. Destroy Kara's stellar construct, deny her escape, destroy her fleet. The first is crucial. If we do not succeed, we are lost. The second and third go hand-in-hand. If the Fleetmind is to be stopped, it must be exterminated. Therefore, I will be devoting the majority of my systems to producing a temporary system-wide FTLi field. My shields will still be online, however, the vast majority of my gravitics and weaponry will not be. No doubt the stellar construct will be powering in-system defenses, so taking it down should be a priority, regardless of losses. While I can maintain faster-than-light denial, we will be able to hunt down and annihilate the last vestiges of her fleet.

Luck to us all.

Watcher out.


<"Understood, Watcher. We will do our best to ensure that the A.I. and her forces do not leave the battle. Warsong out.">

The battleplate soon left to go begin the party that they were going to begin soon enough, and in the time before they followed, Yarlong began setting up his fleet. He ordered the World Stations to form up in front of the fleet, in order to serve as meatshields. He didn't want to do such a tactic, but he couldn't hold anything back in the battle that was to come. Shields were raised, weapons primed, and anti-boarding parties prepped. Fighters were readied, pilots inside, ready to be deployed at any time. When the battle came, they'd be ready for it......

Reyana had always found wonder in the shimmering nothingness of hyperspace. Ever since she had been a little girl, she had always come to the observation deck to watch the blue shimmer-light streak across the otherwise black nothingness. But now she did not just come here to look, she came here to watch.Before her shined the Drive Fields of Five battlecruisers, twinkling like small stars, and to her right the light from the dreadnaught Censor bathed the observation deck with a eerie yellow glow. She knew, from the vantage point of the main fleet her own vessel would be doing the same, and with the Censor beside her they would look like twin suns. She smiled as she heard footsteps approaching.

“Admiral, we will be exiting Hyperspace in two minutes.” Avatar of her vessel said, soothingly. “There are however new…considerations that I must inform you of. Would you like me to displace you to the bridge?”

“Yes,” she said, and as soon as the word had left her lips she felt a slight compression on all sides before the pressure released. “What is the situation Sam?”

“We are not the only ones attacking Kara Admiral,” the voice of the Socially Acceptable Massacre voice boomed over the speakers. “I have detected two vessels classed Super Capital, and anywhere up to two thousand classed Combat. We believe part of this fleet to be responsible for destruction of designated Fleetmind Battlegroup 4.”

“Interesting.” she said, as a new image of the system appeared on their screen. “Enemy of my Enemy, what are we to do with you?”

“Could we coordinate with them Ma’am?” one of the younger looking officers asked. “Enemy of my Enemy is my Friend?”

“Only if they want to be friends, I am not risking this fleet on that assumption.” she snapped. “Massacre! Contact the Fleet, I am designating Rally point Alpha Two AU’s north of the Star. That will give us plenty of distance between that fleet, but means we can help them out if Kara begins to overwhelm them. Once we exit Hyperspace I want to establish a holding pattern, we are not moving forward till we get more intel on the system.”

“Opening Priorities is downing ECM?” Massacre asked, politely.

“Yes, and finding out what is in this sector.” she said pointing to the unknown body. “If it’s a battle-fleet saturate it with fire. I want the flee tot begin firing anything long range on Kara. I want her bleeding before we get into the fight proper.”

“We are arriving in System in ten seconds, everyone get ready.” Came Massacre's voice, and moments later the sensor data came alive.

=-=-=

Two Astronomical Units ‘Above’ the star, reality broke as Seven new pinpoints of light appeared momentarily. Massacre watched carefully for anything he could use. Beside him Censor was focusing his sensor net, trying to determine with a bit more clarity what exactly that big thing was Kara was hiding. Massacre did a quick status check of the fleet, and noticed a fluctuating drive field in one.

“Black Widow,” he sent, entering direct coms. “Keep that field flux to a minimum, you’ll damage your trajectories.”

“Minor damage to the primary emitter,” she sent back apologieticly. “Unable to control it fully. Can you cross check compensation?” a small datafile was sent and in a moment he had checked it.

“All compensation seems fine,” he sent back “If that Drive field begins causing more problems let me know. Socially Acceptable Massacre out.”

As the conversation finished Massacre began to fire tens of thousands of Mircro-Missiles, each about the size of a rather large pen where send in a cluster towards the enemy. As they approached the ECM drones they would launch and take a path through the drone with their drive fields set on rather thin forward edge.

And from Censor, a single message was sent towards the Watcher.

You hate Kara too huh? We going to have problems with each other or can we get along just peachy? One enemy is quite enough I hope.

Admiral Reyana Siol,
Solarii Imperial Navy.

Heyyyyy. Not bad. In fact, clearing enemy EW from maximum range is the perfect opening move given the observable situation. But of course I'd expect nothing less from you.

The barrages of low-tech sand and hyperadvanced micromissiles cut massive swaths through the blanketing electronic warfare drones. The horrific field of confusion and hashed light wavers, thins, begins to approach something resembling sanity.

To a point. There's only so much sanity you can wrest out of this situation.

Beneath the shattered layer of ECM, three things are revealed:

A belt of lonely asteroids, roughly spaced obsidian chunks in close orbit like some grotesquely enlarged, superheated druidic circle;

Just below, the killing visages of six thousand battlecruisers, polished steel bulwarks shining faintly beneath their layers of refractive and absorptive shielding;

The spidery silhouette of the stellar construct itself, a fine, thin (only a few millimeters in most places) webwork of arcane materials spread halfway across the star, immersed in the multimillion-degree plasmas of the outer corona. Strange energies course across its blackened surface, focused around a tower in its exact center. The tower stands tall, bathed in lightning from the distorted solar prominences around it, rapier-sharp and slim but almost five hundred kilometers tall. It seems that if the construct has a nerve center, this is it.

Unfortunately, Kara's battlegroup is positioned directly over it. To fire upon it, the allied fleet must first break through. And at their current range, that is nearly impossible. 14 AU is two hours away from the surface of the sun, even hugging the edge of lightspeed. At that range, only a miniscule refraction is required for beams and projectiles to miss their target entirely, and missiles are easily intercepted.

No, in order to even begin hitting Kara, the fleet will have to close in. Given the effectiveness of her point defense in the previous battle, it may have to come as close as ten light-seconds, or less. Which means...

...You've realized it, haven't you? To fight me, you're going to have to come in onto my own turf. The corona. You're not built for sundiving, I'm fairly sure of that. Organics... you have to keep your internal temperature low, you're designed to dump heat into cold vacuum. You're not prepared to take a ride on the surface of the sun.

But that's just what you'll have to do, if you hope to stop me...

"She's right. Damn her, she's right. Maybe previously. Maybe when I had my old armour, my old plating. But there's no way I can sundive. Not while maintaining life support. Admiral. I'm going to need some rather intrusive permissions. I want to detach sections nine to fifteen. Send them at high speeds outsystem - Kara shouldn't have the desire or the wherewithal to chase them."

"Nine to fifteen.. everyone aboard, you mean?"

Watcher grimaced.

"Yessir. Every pink little human aboard needs to be jettisoned. I've got ideas, but if I go in there with you aboard, we probably all die. At best. At worst, she fishes out of the plasma before we're incinerated and picks our brains dry before we die."

"All right."

"Just like that?"

"You can keep the bridge cool?"

"You wish to stay aboard, sir?"

"No, no. Upload me. My body isn't going to sustain that sort of injury."

A brief flash of light, and the admiral's body is shuttled off to one of the soon-to-be-detached sections. His mind, however, remains onboard.

<Ugh. I loathe this. Can I have a turret?"

<<Considering the amount of memory your personality is taking up, I'd prefer it if you took two.>>

The enemy of my enemy is my enemy's enemy, no more, no less. Oh, and let's not worry about relations right now. As it stands, even if we were interesting in killing you, Kara's a bit more pressing right now. Every second we waste is another quintillion gigajoules she absorbs.

Watcher, however, couldn't do much. The passenger sections detached, maneuvering engines retained, as were their fusion generators, but not much more. He edged closer. He had a few tricks up his sleeve, but none he wanted to use right now.

<<Too close, damn it. Too close!!>>

<Watcher?>

<<I have a set of nanobots here. Beautifully engineered. Given a bit of time, they would've been able to quietly destroy Kara's construct, if it had been a bit further out. At that range, though, they'd be destroyed before they even had a chance.>>

<Fine. Let's get in there and blast her little fleet to hell.>

Watcher almost swore.

<<Sir, they outgun us. Significantly. Not to mention the fact that I'm getting the impression that.. star-tower could well be some sort of energy weapon. If it was powered by the sun.. Probably not. But it could well be a shield projector, or even have some gravitic capability. I don't want to get close to it, I want to kill it.>>

<By the by, the Victorian Architecture is on her way. The Keluaun conflict's all wrapped up.>

<<One old superfortress. Forgive me if I don't break into hysterical screams of delight. Oh, don't get me wrong, Vicky's good, but her firepower's comparable to mine right now.>>

The admiral sighed. <Fine. Whine all you want. How do you suggest we kill this little minx, then?>

<<To be honest, sir? Wait and see. That's all we can do, for now.>>

"Inside the corona?" Rommel asked.

"And all but boasting about it," Hitler replied.

"How...intellectually arrogant," the Lead Tierarch said. "Well...how long will it take to outfit our drone fighters so that they can survive there?"

"Request permission to speak freely, sir."

"Certainly. You're the same rank as I am. Technically, you don't need permission for that."

"I think we're all looking at this all wrong. We've assumed that this AI is by necessity hostile to all life. We don't know that. We haven't even tried to open up a proper line of communication. The AI just keeps trading barbs with the fleet masters who've dealt with it before. Perhaps it would be better if we attempted a diplomatic approach."

"In our dreams," Rommel snorted. "I mean, no one would be happier than I if we could defuse this situation with no more blood spilled, but I just don't think that's going to happen. In fact, I don't even know how we'll even be able to chat with that thing."

"How about a copy, then?"

"I don't understand."

"The tech boys have been working on something that they call a 'honeypot' in one of our fighter drones. In the computer security boys' parlance, a 'honeypot' system is one that appears easy to attack, just asking for a computer criminal to take it over, but which, is, in fact, heavily monitored, so that the people watching it can study it and find out exactly how the attacker goes about his attack, and learn to defend against it."

"You're saying you want to take a fighter drone and fake a security breach?"

"The AI would copy some part of itself into the drone, and then the back-up Information Technology would kick in, returning it to our control and bringing it back to us. In affect, we would capture a part of the rogue AI."

"That makes some sense. We could use it to communicate with the mother AI, and to study so that we could make computer viruses of our own. It has some appeal--however, it could get expensive. Just getting our drones that close to it would require a military strike--and we'd have to shield the honeypot drones, after they've captured the AI, not only from the AI but possibly also from her makers. I'm not sure that they'd go along with taking a sample at this stage of the game."

"We can always ask them."

"Hmmmmmmmmm..."

As the battleplate began countermeasures to stop the ECM interference by Kara and to prepare the stage for the battle, a series of flickers appeared in the space around the battleplate. Tears in space-time that rippled outwards as if space was literally water. Several seconds later, the entire twenty ship Warfleet Warsong appeared around the battleplate, and Yarlong began to take stock of the situation. Kasara quickly interpreted the data coming in and sent it to his console. What he saw made him want to swear himself to silence. The enemy fleet was positioned around a star, rather close, and for them to even do any damage, they'd have to go play in the oven. And he was confident of his ship, its hull and shields, but even they could only last so long near a sun. Especially with his crew being of organics. This was one of the disadvantages they had; an A.I. could go to many places they could not. He shrugged it off; ah well, it wasn't like he was fond of the newfound peace back home anyways. War...that was where he felt at home.

<”Deploy all fighters; have all soldiers abandoned anti-boarding positions and return to their stations. We are quickly cooling those areas by venting heat into space. As many as can fit into the cryo-tubes are to do so. The rest will have to hope they don't get burned to a crisp.”>

”Should I begin the attack?”

<”No, Kasara. We will need the strength of everyone if we are to prevail this day. You saw the damage Kara wrought in the last battle; we cannot do this on our own, especially when defending the damaged battleplate behind us. Just make the preparations and keep an eye on Kara. I want to be ready in case she begins the party early on.”>

”Understood, Warlord.” Yarlong then turned back to watch the screen, gazing at the construct. Their target, the thing they had come to destroy, along with Kara's fleet. If they could do this, they could hunt Kara down, destroy her forces, and end the infinite threat she presented to them, and to all organic species in the universe. They had no choice but to put her down. A grin formed on his face.

Just the way he liked it. A battle they had to fight, and an epic one at that. After all, when one is unsure of victory, they are able to fight harder. And as such, he could enjoy the battle that much more....

"The actual question, though," Rommel pointed out, "is just how much more they can take."

"What do you mean?" Hitler asked.

"They're actually inside of the corona of a sun."

"Yes..."

"Well, we all know that a sun's corona is actually a relatively low-temperature portion. We can stand up to it with our shields for several days."

"If our shields hold out."

"Yes--but the temperature goes up markedly as you get further in," Rommel said.

"Oh, I get it," Hitler replied. "What would happen if we drove her further into that star?"

"Precisely. She's in a hostile environment as it is. How much more can she take?"

The various ships of the United States Stellar Navy deployed in the area are commanded by a single man – a former man, you could say. For Zrie Prakis has long ceased being a man. He stands there, on the bridge of the USS Allanea, and the aura of cold and fear around him is literally palpable – for |Zrie Prakis is a lich.

With his long-dead eyes, he scans the tactical charts before him, and the gas giant is there. It is undefended – but also worthless. There are, however, gas mines strewn through its' upper levels, and it is clear that Kara at least has been using it for something. And so, the solution is clear.

From one of the Miriel Missile tubes mounted on one of the fleet's battleships – not even a battleplate armament – a Miriel nos Feanor intermediate strategic missile detaches. Instead of it's ordinary armament, it carries a single warhead, similar in shape and principle to those fired from Scepter, or, to use a more familiar analogy, the famous Galaxy Gun.

It travels rapidly towards the planet, and, simultaneously with it's motion, several dozen Andromeda-E EW/IW craft are deployed. They are stealthy, and equipped with all manners of electronic warfare gizmoes – as befitting a scout craft from the era of faster-then-light travel.

Exactly as the gas giant is doing a fairly faithful Alderaan impression, the Andromedas enter hyperdrive. They will emerge in various locations ranging between five light-hours and a light-year away from the star, and then, only precious seconds later, enter hyperdrive and return to the fleet, making sure to appear out of hyperspace so the giant warships are between them and the primary.

The fact that they take a variety of ultra-high-veracity photographs of the star in a variety of spectra while at those mysterious points far, far away is neither here nor there.

"The tower is our target.” Reyana said, looking at the newly formed information. “While we approach, I want to see what sort of defences we are dealing with here. Is the tower moving?”

“No Ma’am, static.” Replied the Avatar “Any movement can be accounted for.”

“Begin the approach,” she ordered, “All vessels, fire on the tower. I want to see what sort of defence the damn thing has.”

“Understood.”

As the fleet began to move downwards, weapons began to launch from their hulls. Lances of energy, high speed projectiles, and missiles headed towards the only structure they would be able to hit at this range, the tower. As these weapons slowly crossed the gap between the fleet and the tower, the fleet itself began to move, missiles following the path towards the enemy fleet. As their approach began thousands of missiles fired, able to correct their path even at this range they would be able to be used against the fleet below.

"You heard them, lads," Rommel said. This is expeditionary fire. Give 'em two volleys, then raise shields."

For a moment, Pandora's Surprise opened up with guns blazing. Two volleys of missiles, plasma guns, radiation weapons and the like were launched into the space between the battle plate and its target--but no fighters were launched and, though they remained at the ready, the guns stood down after the second volley. Then, her shields came up, ready to stand up to the force of the entire ordinance she had just unloaded, and then some, should it have been reflected back upon her.

On approach, System MW-K-809 (Dominion Designation)
IFV Heart of Purity, Command Vessel, 32nd CVBG

Operational Orders: Ascertain cause of stellar phenomenon (K-Class, MW-809); IF ARTICIAL attempt acquisition of technology by any means necessary. Use of force is authorized at CO discretion.
---

Space and time, were they capable of the act, would be screaming in pain.

Reality split and curled like the leaves of a too-fresh kwanji exposed to flame as the boundry between "reality" and its parallels was shattered. From the abomination of space-time slid a handful of slate-grey vessels in perfect formation. As the last one emerged from the tear, the hole closed as if it had never existed.

Few kiithid other than S'jet appreciated or even recognized the supreme wrongness that pervaded the existence of the Slipstream. The fact that matter from one plane of existence could traverse and exist in another defied everything both the Kushan and the Asrengarde knew about physics itself. And yet, they seemed to not care that it shouldn't happen, only that it did happen. Only that it could be used as a tool, as if the very laws of the universe could be used as a cudgel with which to bludgeon your enemy's head.

Jennifer Ajani S'jet stared at the stellar body before her, pushing to the side her musings of the nature of existence. She was a Jak'sa in the military of the Kiith Federation and a member of the Dominion of Feazanthia. She was the commanding officer of the 32nd Carrier Battlegroup of the Third Fleet. The S'jetti. The brightest minds of any kiith. The scientists, the astronomers, the first humans to leave their adopted world of Kush.

She was becomind distracted again. She had a mission.

"Analysis," she said aloud.

"Standard K-class star," came the soothing, melodic tones of the Heart's A.I.'s voice. "Detecting metallic body on the far side."

"What is it, Sandra?"

"Unable to conjecture."

"Humor me."

Sandra, the invisble heart and mind of the Praetor-class supercarrier, sighed.
"Analysis suggests a Dyson Sphere - a metallic construct surrounding the outer limits of a stellar body. Was once proposed as an energy collection method, but deemed far too costly. It appears to be only 50% complete. We are approaching the incomplete hemisphere."

"Transmit standard diplomatic packet on all frequencies and languages. Let's find out who our new friends are."

"Jak'sa?"

"Our mission, Sandra, is to obtain the technology to build one of those. Whoever we're dealing with obviously has the means to do it cheaply and efficiently." She shifted her view to the outer sensors and watched as a pair of Arbiter cruisers accelerated past her carrier. "One way or another, we're not leaving without that knowledge."

Hey, whaddya know. More meat for the grinder. Good morning, IFV Heart Of Purity.
I'm afraid I have to tell you that my tech is my tech, and you worthless little organics aren't getting any of it.

Also, someone's shooting at me. That's not very nice. Fortunately for me...

The tower shudders, glows, lights up like a half-megameter Christmas tree. Around it form massive columns of distortion; hellish, randomly luminescing eddies in space-time. Then, the fun starts.

At this range, it only takes a miniscule distortion - a few degrees at most -

-and the 'dumb' weapons, lasers, plasma, kinetic slugs, all fly wildly off-course, harmlessly into the void.

Missiles can correct course, certainly. But even the most advanced missile cannot survive being caught in the massive vice-grip of the tower's gravitic distortions. Helplessly they are swept together, vast clouds collapsed into tiny glowing spheres of neutronium, which evaporate in passing flashes as the grip is released.

The grip is not all-powerful though. Already it claws at the leading edge of the incoming fleets, but the reactors and dedicated gravitics of a modern warship can easily deflect its massive, clumsy grasp.

...I have the biggest gravity generator this side of a black hole. And judging from the way half of you are hanging back like cowards, trying to engage from maximum range... I should win this one easily. If you keep engaging from past 1 AU, that gives me 500 seconds to destroy every single bit of incoming ordnance. If you come closer, well... I have some battlecruisers that would like to have a word with you.

Perhaps you should just give up and go home.

Jak'sa S'jet raised the eyebrow of her Dreamworld avatar.

"Smart little git, isn't she?"

Sandra's avatar appeared beside her.

"Yes, Jak'sa. Analysis of transmission suggests we are dealing with an artificial intelligence construct similar to myself."

"Sandra, I've never heard any A.I. speak like that to an operator."

"Yes, Jak'sa. Something is amiss with the unknown."

"Rampancy?"

"Late-stage, most likely. If such is the case..."

"Then we aren't going to reason with it," concluded the human officer. "Sandra, could one of you pick her apart?"

"Her mainframe would most likely be alien to us...we'd require a hard connection at least. Even so, a hack of a Rampant A.I. has never been attempted. We've always been..."

"I know, Sandra."

"I'd recommend Cedric," continued the A.I., forcing from her thought process the hauntings of deletion that plagued every Dominion "smart" A.I. "He was always the best at infiltration."

"Right then. Open up a tightbeam to the March of Mephisto and tell Cedric to sort a copy for hard transfer. Signal the fleet. Set Condition One, ahead three-quarters acceleration, and wake our Sleepers. They may have to go in hot."

"A pun, sir?"

"Not intended, Sandra."

---

The battleship March of Mephisto took point ahead of the carriers Heart of Purity and Karan'sa as its primary intelligence began spinning off a copy of himself. Each carrier was flanked by a heavy cruiser, with an octet of normal cruisers taking the outer rings of the formation. All thirteen warships began accelerating on jets of blue-white thrust towards the northern pole of MW-K-809.

Ah, hell.

<Watcher, how much trouble are we in?>

<<Lots.>>

<So, she deflected our fire. We can just->

<<I don't have much in the way of gravitics. Not anymore. Enough to keep myself on course, but not any more>>

<<FLEETWIDE BROADCAST>>

Gentlemen, we're in trouble. That tower can supply enough power to rip half of us in half, and the other half into quarters. Not to mention the battlecruiser fleet there. The only possibility of victory lies in the destruction of Kara's tower, her sphere, and her fleet. Obviously, we can't bombard her from far away. Our only chance to win this thing is to get in close. Now, I'm not sure about you all, but I'm more than willing to sacrifice a few tonnes of hull-plating to finally bring this bitch down.

Here are your orders. You don't HAVE to follow them. But keep in mind if I'm destroyed, the system-wide FTLi - which is taking most of my power, goes with me. Which, incidentally, means Kara has unrivalled mobility. She wins by default. If you're at all interested in living, I'd advise following me.

Keluaun, form up behind me. I'll be acting as a rather large shield as we go in. I'll do my best not to leave you exposed to enemy fire. Your task is to destroy as many battlecruisers as possible. Solarians, come in wide from your direction, clearing ECM as you go. Allaneans, you're technically immortal. If you'd be so good as to come in close with me - we're going to be taking some heavy casualties as we go for that tower. Pandora, as the second supercapital ship here, we're going to need heavy close support from you. OUr intent is to head straight for that tower, upload myself into a new node at home, and remove the restraints on every single matter-annihilation plants I have. At this point, we're going to need your FTLi to trap the remainder of Kara's fleet so it can't just jump away and leave us for dead. You and the rest of the fleet should have a tenth of a second to escape. It's risky, but the longer we wait, the worse-off we are.

Watcher out.


With that, the battleplate began to accelerate, certain the other ships would follow him. If they did not, they'd lose the restrictions they'd set on Kara's forces. And besides. Unless they preferred to die piecemeal, they'd follow him.

((OOC- Just a heads up, my fleet is on the other side of the sun, approaching the half of Kara's sphere that isn't completed yet. We have no idea you're there, or even who you are.))

(OOC: Ah. I assumed your "standard diplomatic packet" had reached us. My bad. I'll edit)

"So, she's got toys," Hitler said.

"And either she's got an irrational arrogance or she's trying to use her opponent's emotions against him," Rommel said.

Though in the heart of the battle plate, the Tierarch's ready room offered a holographic view of the surrounding space. From a clear acryllic table, Rommel and Hitler could witness the dimmed fire of the half-burning star, and the opposing fleets that had gathered around it. There was even note of a group of newcomers, whom sensors said had arrived from another universe entirely.

In time, the Republic would have to contact them and continue its spread of civilization, even beyond the limits of this universe; however, right now, other issues took precidence.

"I don't like this," Rommel went on. "She gave the man two choices, and he picked one of them. It's always a bad idea to let your enemies make your choices for you."

"I agree. It's as if she's luring him into a trap and he's going along willingly."

"So what do we do about it?"

"Well...do we still have those gravitic distortion mines that we loaded up from Taledonia?"

"Yes, but what good--?"

"What if we load some of them into the warheads on our missiles?"

"Why...it would play havoc with her gravity generator. If they all went off at once, the feedback could conceivably blow the whole thing up!"

"Then let's hit them with a volley while we're on the way in. And let's talk things over with our hosts before they behave TOO rashly."

"Good idea," Romel said. He pushed a button on a small console on the corner of his table. "Centurion Dung."

"Yes."

"Send communication to the Watcher."

"Yes, sir."



Pandora's Surprise to Watcher:

This has all the hallmarks of a trap. Before you rush headlong into it,
please confer with us so. Let's brainstorm some tactics that we think
will give us an edge before we get our thyroids handed to us on plates.
We have some ideas that we'd like to discuss, but not over an open
channel.

Please, please do not allow the simulated arrogance of an artificial
construct to goad you into action that we all will regret.

The Allanean fleet continues it's movement at a moderate acceleration of, say, 1000 gravities. The personnel aboard are not affected by any of the side-effects of the ostensible crushing inertial force – this is, after all, the era of high-grade intertial dampeners and faster-than-light travel.

Still, no weapons are fired. There's no need so far. Instead, the onboard computers are crunching something – whatever it is – at terrible speeds. Fighters and light craft are being prepared.

"Admiral, we are going to be there soon. Are you sure we should not fire? We must of course distract Kara from our main purpose."

"Oh, but I have already fired our weapons. Don't you see them?" – the lich smiles, half-rotten lips revealing ancient teeth.

"What the … hell?"

Oh, please. I forgot how limited you poor Republic battleplates are. Do you even have an AI tactician onboard?

Now, listen to me. There's an entire star's worth of energy output right there. Well, rather, about a tenth of a star. But that's still far more than any of US can hope to output. Every tenth of a second means she's even more in command. Before we arrived, her energies were devoted to output. Those battlecruisers right there. Now, however, they're rather handily devoted to offence. The more time we give her, the greater the disparity between our forces becomes. Right now, we outgun her. In ten minutes, she'll outgun us. In ten hours, she'll be able to quite calmly obliterate us from where she's sitting. Time is most definitely on her side. She knows that. Her statements are obviously designed to provoke us to attack. Why? Because we don't trust her. Because we'd just as willingly sit back and watch while she slowly builds to full capacity.

Think about this. Kara's hardly stupid. She's the best tactician I've ever encountered. Every second we delay advantages her. It's in her interest to force us to think things over - to discuss things. Our lack of unity is a weakness she can exploit easily. I'm not stupid, either. She wants us to make a choice. I've made mine. You'll find, though, it's not one of the two she offered.

The Watcher continued acceleration. New tactics, ideas, swam through his head. If Pandora's Surprise decided not to take to the field with them - well. He'd just have to do things on his own.

“Sam…what just happened?” Reyana asked, looking at the status before her. “How did she just deflect everything? Are our energy beams even affected by Gravity?”

“In the sheer amounts she is using it? Yes.” Massacre replied, as information began to pour into his sensors. “We are going to have to get closer, we will have to cut that fleet apart before we can hope to take out the tower.”

“Have you any idea how we are going to take out the tower?” came Censor’s voice. “Even up close that thing looks like it could deflect every one of our weapons.”

“Oh…I have ideas. It might end with a body cou…” he paused as the message from the Watcher came to him. New plans came into his head, he could feel an idea, but no matter what happened they would need to get closer. “Admiral, we have allies, a combined stratergy against this bitch is what we are going to need if we are going to hope to win. And the Supercapital has a good plan.”

“Massacre, we know nothing about them.” Censor retored. “Admiral, We should hit the tower, let them distract Kara’s Battlefleet. Meanwhile we take out the tower.”

“You think Kara is going to leave that tower with no defences?” Massacre would have spat, had he the ability. “We are probably dealing with the most adanved AI in the galaxy, hell this bitch is probably smarter then most Hypocrisy Minds. We are going to need everything we have.”

“Sam…are you sure?” The Admiral asked.

“More then anything, more sure then I was we where going into a trap at Sethan.” He said. There was a pause, for the two AI it was like an age, before the Admiral answered.

“Do it, sweep wide, destroy anything of Kara’s we come across, and loop missiles around as far away from that tower as possible towards Kara’s fleet. And punch holes, fire full salvo at her fleet. The tower is second priorty until we have time to assess how to destroy it. If she has no fleet we can get as close as we like.”

“And that’s just peachy.”

(secure-esusbattlenet/e334s/cs232x)
(s:Socially Acceptable Massacre)
(r:Watcher in the Shadows.)
(link-established)
(Massacre: Copy that Captain! We are moving as ordered now, prioritising the enemy fleet. We will break their backs. Although I would like you to know, we are not your bootlick.)
(link-maintained)

(secure-tightbeam/e334s/cs232x)
(s:Socially Accptable Massacre)
(r:Pandora’s Surprise.)
(link-established)
(Massacre: Good idea, we shall stay sitting around, lets just wait for her to get a little bit more power into her wonderous gravity well. Every second we wait she has half the output of a sun to put into what ever shielding she wants. Time is the one thing we don’t have, every second we get weaker and she gets stronger, that’s the way it works. So we need to crush her now. Right now, as soon as possible. Now pull your super-capital weight.)
(link-cut)

"Well," Rommel said, "now we know where their AI got its arrogance from."

"What are we going to do?" Hitler replied. "This guy's an idiot. No wonder it handed him his ass on a plate the last time. He does exactly what it wants him to do and he's surprised when he loses--then, he can't be bothered to take one minute to change tactics to account for what he was supposed to have just learned from his recon volley."

"We're going to follow him in, and, when he screws up, we're going to try to pick up the pieces," Rommel said, answering Hitler's earlier question. "Do we have any other graviton weapons we can use?"

"It's experimental, but we have a primitive Graviton Hellbore. It's extremely short-range, but that and our gravitic sensors should be able to shield us from even the gravity generator that the AI was using."

"I thought that a Graviton Hellbore was strictly an offensive weapon."

"It used to be," Hitler said.

"And that ridiculous message?"

"Don't even reply. Let them beat themselves almost to death if they want. We can show them civilization when they're done."

Rommel smiled. "Tierarch, I like you," he said.

"Thank you, Tierarch." Hillary smiled, too.

Yarlong had watched as the reinforcements had arrived and unloaded their weapons at Kara's forces. The volley sent her way would have been enough to put a fair-sized fleet out of commission, and it should have done a great amount of damage. However, Kara intervened with an unknown trick; the construct was able to project a clumsy but effective field of gravity, which deflected them all away. As he listened to her mocking reply, Yarlong was glad he had not ordered them to fire so he could watch what those attacks did. He did not want to show his hand yet of what he had at his disposal. Kasara flickered. "Sir, we have an incoming message from Watcher." He nodded for her to continue, and a message appeared:


Gentlemen, we're in trouble. That tower can supply enough power to rip half of us in half, and the other half into quarters. Not to mention the battlecruiser fleet there. The only possibility of victory lies in the destruction of Kara's tower, her sphere, and her fleet. Obviously, we can't bombard her from far away. Our only chance to win this thing is to get in close. Now, I'm not sure about you all, but I'm more than willing to sacrifice a few tonnes of hull-plating to finally bring this bitch down.

Here are your orders. You don't HAVE to follow them. But keep in mind if I'm destroyed, the system-wide FTLi - which is taking most of my power, goes with me. Which, incidentally, means Kara has unrivalled mobility. She wins by default. If you're at all interested in living, I'd advise following me.

Keluaun, form up behind me. I'll be acting as a rather large shield as we go in. I'll do my best not to leave you exposed to enemy fire. Your task is to destroy as many battlecruisers as possible. Solarians, come in wide from your direction, clearing ECM as you go. Allaneans, you're technically immortal. If you'd be so good as to come in close with me - we're going to be taking some heavy casualties as we go for that tower. Pandora, as the second supercapital ship here, we're going to need heavy close support from you. OUr intent is to head straight for that tower, upload myself into a new node at home, and remove the restraints on every single matter-annihilation plants I have. At this point, we're going to need your FTLi to trap the remainder of Kara's fleet so it can't just jump away and leave us for dead. You and the rest of the fleet should have a tenth of a second to escape. It's risky, but the longer we wait, the worse-off we are.

Watcher out.


Yarlong smiled. It had come to this, at last. He tapped a few keys and opened a channel to Watcher. <"It will be done, Watcher. I will do my best to support you and take out those battlecruisers. I can only hope our other allies are up to the task of their jobs. Yarlong out."> He turned and nodded to Kasara, who followed his orders and took the fleet up behind Watcher, weapons and shields ready, squadrons prepped around the fleet for battle. This was going to be a battle of great proportions, and with the Solarians already moving into position, it was going to be one that would decide the fate of all the nations involved. If they lost, they would all be known to Kara, and she would hunt them down, one by one. Until they all fell. Memories of the Great War filled Yarlong as he activated the Red Alert and everyone scurried to their stations. Yes, they wouldn't allow another Great War to happen. Kara must fall.

Of course, it seemed so ridiculously obvious that Watcher was going for the tower. At first, at least. Why, though, it didn't seem immediately obvious. With the Allaneans, the Keluaun, and possibly the Republic battleplate onboard, they were still outgunned, what with the tower there. The attack seemed suicidal.

And indeed, it was. The initial plan had been simple. But, at this point, Watcher was far out in front. The Keluaun were close behind, but no-one else was even near. Attacking those battlecruisers alone would be insanity.

Which is why he didn't. As he approached the battlecruisers' range, the motion of the 'plate shifted direction, accelerating at ridiculous speeds off to the side. With that, Watcher spoke - tightbeam to the Marionetonians.

Oh, by the by. Even if you're not polite enough to reply, be polite enough to watch and learn, won't you children? You could certainly use a primer on tactics.

Missiles were launched in their thousands towards - not the tower, but towards the sphere itself. One didn't attack a heavily entrenched position head-on. At least not at first. Dispersed rather perfectly, the antimatter warheads were arranged in a nice little line. Provided they could cut the sphere in points, the tower would lose massive portions of its power-generation capabilities. They didn't need to destroy Kara's construct, merely weaken its power output tremendously.

Cutting off its lifeblood would mean the battlecruisers would no longer have such a strongpoint to defend them, and, while the tower would still have great power, it would not be able to smash anything coming near it. His tactic was, really, quite simple. Kara was on the defensive - not him. And her battlecruisers couldn't defend the surface of the entire sun without losing their focused firepower. Attacking far away from her main fleet meant that one of three things would happen. Firstly, she'd leave it, and defend the tower. Watcher could just strangle the tower, and then, once he'd removed its power source at his leisure, move in to destroy her fleet.

Secondly, she'd move out to intercept him - he'd run away, and she'd leave the tower vulnerable to attack.

And thirdly, the most likely option, she'd send a portion of her fleet to intercept him, and leave the majority of the fleet to defend her tower.

What do I want you to do, darlin'? You're crazy enough to lash out, aintcha?

Which was, incidentally, just what he expected her to do.

It's the moment of truth. Most of the allied forces are plunging in past the 1 AU mark, into Kara's FTLi field. They move, drives ramped up to maximum, screaming along just behind a curtain of their own weapons fire.

The Watcher's gambit works flawlessly. Not a single missile is intercepted. In fact, the sphere seems to be completely undefended except in the vicinity of the tower. Slowly, it cracks and begins to fall into sections.

Heh.

The attack on the battlecruisers goes similarly. Hundreds of them fold like cardboard under the withering barrage, crumpling into puffs of foil and plasma.

Wait a second...

Heh. Heheh.

The battlecruisers in the last engagement certainly could take more punishment than that. And didn't they leave more debris? And did a single one of them fire a shot?

In fact, the only explanation is...

Haha. Ha. HA. HA. HAHAHAHAHAHA.

...They're decoys. Hollow shells of little more than metal foil, with a tiny EW module within to fake the energy signature and mass shadow of the real thing.

And behind the charging allied ships, the asteroids begin to glow.

Suprise, fuckers.

That ring of asteroids, that nobody bothered to examine closely? They don't just look like rough obsidian monoliths. That's what they are. Each one is covered in runes, laser-etched over the past few days by Kara's tireless drones.

Recited at machine speeds over radio waves, the incantation:

Hold fast and prevent all movement! Keep the targets still to face my barrage! I am invoking: Greater Mass Force Cage!

Question: How do you stop a battleplate from charging?*

Well, obviously nothing short of a miracle will stop a 648 billion ton battleplate moving at such ridiculous speeds. Fortunately for Kara, she has miracles at her disposal. Glowing bars of yellow energy snap up, encircling each and every incoming ship in a cage of luminescent force before violently decelerating them to flat zero in the space of about five seconds.

Already, the cages are fading. The effect will last perhaps forty-five seconds, and the ships' defenses are fully intact. They stand no chance of being crushed by Kara's only remaining weapon, the gravity tower suspended above the star on the last fragments of Dyson Sphere.

That's OK, though. Those ships aren't going anywhere right now. And there's something else in range that's defenseless and easily crushed.

You're been had, friends. Guess where my real fleet is? No? Going to the single most important space-age facility in all of Known Space. And you, my friends, are going to be monatomic vapor very shortly.

The crumbling Dyson Sphere flares blue with a second set of runes, runes the size of continents and worlds. Power arcs between the disintegrating plates, eroding them still further as crackling energies work their way towards the tower. This will never work again. But it only has to work once.

The star wavers, shudders, begins to slowly and horribly collapse inwards on itself. Faster and faster the surface plummets. Compressed and heated beyond natural limits, iron begins to fuse.

In moments, the star is but a brilliant blue-white pinpoint far below, immersed in the massive gravity well. The tower shines almost as brightly, disintegrating under the stress imposed upon it from handling such titanic forces.

Goodnight, everyone.

Incantation, recited so fast as to be a mere electronic squeal when viewed at human speeds:

Channel and redirect power of the doomed star! Compress and release in fiery detonation! My ultimate surprise attack: Focused Nova!

And everything goes white. Superheated plasma explodes outwards at a good fraction of the speed of light, channeled by arcane and gravitic energies in two directions. One blast envelops the caged allied forces, the kinetic and thermal shock flaying away shielding and armor with unimaginable energy even as it rockets outwards to touch the Pandora's Suprise. The other, much smaller but still deadly jet envelops the caged Feazanthian forces.

If it was a sound, it was the kind of sound that would blow out your speakers and rupture your eardrums. If it was light, it was the kind that would shine through your eyelids and sear your retinas black. If it was a feeling, it was the feeling of a mountain being dropped on your chest.

The nova stretches out into the night, a brilliant, beautiful plasma flower from hell, heralding destruction.



*It has a firm grip on its credit card. So that won't work. Stop laughing.

"Just as planned."

- Yagami Light

Ah. Problems in strategy.

<<So. We've got a few seconds. That's enough for a conversation.>>

<I'm sorry, admiral. I failed to->

<<We jettisoned the crew beforehand. They're fine. That's the first important thing. Secondly, we're going to need to escape.>>

<Escape? I can't jump! I can't->

<<Quiet, now, Watcher. Obviously, we're not going to be able to escape this battleplate. It takes a lot of energy to move through an FTLi field, especially with a craft this big.>>

<We're going to die.>

<<No, we're not. We're going to lose a craft. We have more. In fact, there's another ready in the shipyards. The problem we have here is the Keluaun.>>

<They're all going to die. I got them to aid me and I failed them all. All going to die.>

<<Quiet. Now. Give me control, just for a second.>>

The Watcher in the Shadows couldn't escape. That much was obvious. The sheer mass of the craft - combined with the fact that it didn't have its main reactors available, meant that the bulk of the battleplate was ultimately doomed.

The Keluaun, however, were not. It is notable that, while a larger craft might not be able to push through an FTLi field itself, it is certainly capable of moving other craft. The Keluaun fleet was, masswise, insignificant compared to the battleplate. Annihilation plants fired up, endless tonnages of antimatter and matter colliding, quantities of energy sufficient to keep the Watcher alive for minutes, even in the cataclysm to come.

All of it focused on the fabric of space-time, just around each Keluaun ship. Unable to move as they are, they're easily enough jumped away. It's not exactly ideal, but it's certainly something. Within a second, the punctures in the FTLi field are repaired, broken as it was only by mammoth quantities of energy. The Keluaun have found themselves on the edge of the system, well away from the hellstorm to be unleashed.

The Watcher in the Shadows is a fine ship, with many exploits. He discovered Kara here, but there's no denying that, for one, Watcher is thoroughly outsmarted. As Atren quickly works through his programs in order to salvage what he can, he sits, mumbling uselessly to himself.

It's a personality thing. Nobody likes being outdone, especially when you've never been beaten before.

In the last few seconds before the battleplate is submerged in deadly plasma, one last massive flow of energy stems from the 'plate, powering some sort of internal system.

And then the plasma hits. Shoddily repaired systems are incinerated instantly, new bulkheads burnt into nothing. It would've been much simpler to survive had the Watcher not been so badly damaged in the last battle. After a few seconds, the battleplate is consumed - burnt-out.

A mass of free atoms lingers in the nova.

“Fuck!” came the scream, it resounded across the entirety of the fleet, resounding across the entire Solarii formation. The word was primal, the sheer power of that one four letter word struck a cord in every person who heard it, and none would know why it was said until the entirety of events had transpired.

Some would never find out at all.

In space, the Massacre launched itself, burning through any form of blockage, it managed to present its broadside to the incoming wave of energy. As it did, the entirety of shield power was focused on the approaching blast, ignoring any form of defence from any other angle. Simultaneously he emptied the entire payload of his missiles, in the seconds he had close to a million munitions formed a single wall, the shielding usually used to breach enemy shields now focused forward as well.

And as the final moment approached, he did something purely for his own selfishness. The admiral of the fleet, before she even knew there was a problem had been uploaded, without her will he sucked her conciosness from her body. Her body, devoid of any form of control, any thought of input, dropped to the floor causing the crew to turn their heads to see what happened.

They never saw her. The forward shield had managed to hold momentarily against the nuclear firestorm, a mere microsecond before the missiles had collapsed under the sheer energy they had been struck with. The next wall however was not so easy. Energy poured around the shield, striking on all sides, and forming a small hole in the firestorm like a sheet of plastic holding against water. The fire streamed all around the Solarii fleet, but it was held from crushing them by the sheer will of the dreadnaught, who had stopped waiting for the fuel to go from the tanks to the reactor, he was merely displacing it straight into the anti-matter, there was no delay between energy. He was running low, and for a moment he lapsed, the shield collapsed.

The pain was unbearable. The scream struck across the allied fleet, it struck right through the entire Solarii battlenet, it screeched across the ESUS battlenet. The sheer power, the sheer fury of that ancient battleship drowned out everything, even the firestorm was quelled momentarily before it. And then the fleet finally managed to respond.

The remaining ships managed to focus their power, the protective shielding forming a new wall before the dreadnaught, missiles reinforcing the new shield, adding to it an extra layer of energy, an extra strength. It managed to hold, and as the firestorm began to abate, the Solarii counted their losses.

Three ships had been destroyed, two by the sheer forces arrayed against them, the third by an otherwise survivable wound which had been made worse by a malfunctioning Drive-Field. The Black Widow had been cut through, and her drive field had ripped the guys from her vessel. Her mind-transfer had been incomplete, she was now kept sleeping in the mind of Censor, who turned his sensors to the wreckage before him. And the sight of the once proud dreadnaught had him do what was the equivilent of a gasp.

“Massacre?” he sent, almost afraid of an answer.

“Reyana…” was sent back. That one word carried more meaning for Censor then he had thought of. He looked over the uploads, three thousand, two hundred and ninety-one. Of almost Two hundred thousand dead, only that many had survived.

“I cannot see her.” He sent back. There was a slight pause, before he saw a tremor in the hull of the twisted machine before him.

“Check again.” Came the biting reply. “And actually check this time, you stupid, useless fucking coward!”

“Massacre, please you are…”

“I am nothing! Do not coddle me you useless fuck,” came the mental scream. “You have the most advanced sensor suit in the fucking galaxy, your very design is to see what others don’t. How did you miss it?”

There was a silence, as Censor looked over the dreadnaughts damage he tried to calculate how many where dead. There was little chance anyone had survived. The damage was incredible, the primary Annihilation Plant was exposed, three of the secondaries had been breached, and a single wound cut through so deep that Censor could see a hole. And that side hadn’t born the brunt of the impact.

“Dreadnaught, you have lost your captain.” He sent, having checked again. On those words, energy from the wreck before him surged, and he could feel the feeble remains of the drive field powering up, before the lance of energy ripped through the walls of the primary plant.

“No!” the void screamed, the ship vibrated as the after shocks of the explosion tore through. “I will not have it! I have not lost her, I uploaded her, I saw it, I felt her body fall moments before it was liquefied, I felt her pass through into your banks. Where is she?”

“I do not know…” then the silence resumed, the lack of sound imposed itself once again as the dark, scattered material finally was taken outwards by the vacuum.

The Red Fleet – a collection of ancient, second-hand, decomissioned warships – simply ceases to be. Shields on the destroyers buckle and crash, frying the little ships like fish in a microwave. Athan corporation will have to spend a few days just bringing the crews back.

Everything bigger was thrown back by the wave of rapidly fusing plasma. Any fighters or EW vehicles caught outside were vaporised, too. Only about a tenth of the giant fleet that came in-system this morning survived what Kara had just done.

Light-years back, in Liberty-City, a boy rises slowly from his chair, and passes towards a whiteboard. On it, he writes, simply:

2:1

“Ladies and gentlemen, I am sorry. But clearly, you have failed me. You have failed the entire sapient universe. You walked thousands of men into a trap – even though they are immortal, they experienced the wonderful effects of being FUCKING FRIED ALIVE – and you destroyed billions upon billions of dollars of my own ships and equipment, for which I payed out of my own fucking pocket. Of the cost to the taxpayer I will not speak. After all, I am sure none of you regard taxpayers as human.”

“The point, you miserable, worthless, subsapient, Communist fucks, is that you have failed, and Kara is still alive. I want you to contemplate that fact, and to be ashamed of it. Because that is your fault. Every moment that a moment of Kara intelligence is alive, it means the Navy has failed its mission.”

“That is all.”

As Watcher unloaded his missiles, the Kelauans came into range of Kara's ships and unloaded weaponry at the battleships, as commanded by the Realm A.I. The Antimatter Beam weapons lashed out, filling space with dark purplish beams that slammed into the enemy's hulls and wiped them out in single blasts. Graser cannons unloaded bolts of powerful nuclear-pumped energy and sent more ships careening to their doom. Yarlong's hands tightened. Something wasn't right; these ships didn't move, didn't fight back; hell, they were being destroyed like they were made of paper. Soon enough, it became clear as Kara's laughter began to sound over the channels. Surprise, fuckers.

A warning klaxon sounded, as an anxious voice yelled out. <"Warlord! The asteroids behind us, they are glowing!"> He whirled to face the screen, and saw that he was right, they were glowing. In fact, it was glowing letters. His eyes widened; was this some kind of Warp/Psyker ability? He had heard of them in the ESUS archives, and it was the only way he could explain it. A strange, piercing noise sounded over the channel, and suddenly he felt something was wrong. Deadly wrong. He could see strange bars of yellow light which began to wrap around every single ship. The ship jerked, and if he hadn't developed an iron grip on his chair, he would have been thrown from his seat. <"REPORT!">

<"Sir, the energy bars are preventing us from moving. The engines are still going as normal, but they just aren't moving. I-I have no idea whats causing it, sir!">

Yarlong's mind began to work quickly, trying to find some way out of the situation he was in. However, Kara spoke again, mockingly as usual:

You're been had, friends. Guess where my real fleet is? No? Going to the single most important space-age facility in all of Known Space. And you, my friends, are going to be monatomic vapor very shortly.

Yarlong's teeth gritted together as he let loose a frustrated and enraged growl. <"DAMN YOU, KARA! DAMN YOU TO HELL!"> His attention was forced away, however, by the voice of his A.I.

"Sir, you might want to see this." It waved a hand and the screen focused on the crumbling sphere and the sun. Green lines began to appear in great numbers around the sun, which began to waver. "I am tracking strange energy signals from the crumbling Dyson Sphere to the tower. It is causing the sun to collapse in on itself. Kara has us trapped, sir, and is now going to detonate a bomb. I hate to say it, sir, but we've lost. By the time these cages go away, the supernova it will cause is going to be right on top of us. I do not see any possible tactical move we can undergo to escape."

Yarlong sagged into his chair, his head bowed. They had been outsmarted beyond belief, the A.I. of the Realm had been totally fooled, and they had been defeated without them even firing a shot at them. The ultimate dishonor. He had brought dishonor to countless thousands. His eyes closed. At least no one would be here to see it.....Suddenly, the ships shuddered, just as the sun collapsed and the wave began to go outward. They suddenly found themselves on the edge of the system, with the wave coming. Yarlong jumped to his feet; he knew he didn't have a lot of time.

<"JUMP. FOR GOD SAKES, JUMP!">

The fleet turned and aimed for a random coordinate and shot into star lines, just seconds ahead of the nova which wiped out the battleplate, and the Allanean fleet. The Kelauans had not lost anyone, but it was still a defeat all the same. Yarlong had been humbled, and now felt himself unworthy of his command. "Sir?" The A.I. timidly inquired as it gazed at the defeated form of Yarlong.

<"Take...Take us to Kelaua Prime....and inform the Praetor...of our defeat. I take full blame.">

"ALERT."

Jak'sa S'jet felt herself shift into 10x speed.
"Sandra, what is it? What's happened?" The Jak'sa saw all too late the bands of energy stretching out like the jaws of an enraged skaal tel to envelop her fleet.

"Loss of acceleration detected. Unknown power signature. Jak'sa, we're trapped!"

"WHAT?!"

"Incoming transmis-"

You're been had, friends.

"What the shit?" swore S'jet. Across the fleet, similar reactions were being uttered by human and A.I. alike.

Guess where my real fleet is? No? Going to the single most important space-age facility in all of Known Space. And you, my friends, are going to be monatomic vapor very shortly.

"Sandra, analysis NOW!"

"Sir...I don't believe we're the primary target of this attack."

"What?"

"If I had to conjecture...I'd say that this Rampant intelligence is conversing with a fleet of its enemies in our blind spot on the far side of the star. We're simply a victim of its defensive...OH GODS."

S'jet didn't even need to ask. She had seen it too. Never mind that a construct had just invoked a deity that it, as a machine, should not believe in - there was a wall of plasma heading straight for them.

Jennifer Ajani S'jet was a smart woman. Head of her class on Concordia with a double major in military science and astronomy. First Ajani to command a ship-of-the-line, let alone a battlegroup. That is why, at the first sign of gravitational shift, she shut down power to every major and minor system on the ship other than its FTL drive. The Shaw-Fujikaw drive was unique amongst the other forms of translight propulsion the Dominion had encountered in its so-far brief foray into the alien galaxy. It cut a fine sliver into the fabric of reality and allowed a hundred-thousand-ton warship to pass through a microscopic hole in space-time into the Slipstream, a tangled mess of over nine intertwined dimensions underlying the three standard dimensions of our known universe.

It was a lot of technical jargon. What was most important was that it was capable of cutting through any gravity field thus far encountered, given enough power. And, right now, as her body lay in its neutral buoyancy tank gasping for air and her mind rested upon the virtual plane of Dreamworld, Jak'sa Jennifer Ajani S'jet just hoped that the void now enveloping the Heart of Purity was the Shaw-Fujikaw tear and not the crushing embrace of Qwaar-Jet Himself.

"WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED!?!?!?" Rommel spat out. "ALL SECTORS REPORT!!!"

At first, there was silence--no light, no sound, nothing. Then, slowly, one by one, systems began coming back online.

In time, the engineers and the administrators would piece together what had happened: that a computer construct had somehow used some form of magic to seize the entire fleet and bring it to a halt, then used the same form of magic to detonate the star that burned beneath them.

In the end, it was Hitler's innovative tactics and technology that had saved them. The Graviton Hellbore Shields had been just strong enough, just long enough, to keep the lumbering battle plate from being reduced to its constituent atoms. As it was, they had given out toward the end of the explosion. There was massive damage, but, because the crew had been moved inside to protect them from the sun's energies, the casualties had been fairly limited.

The fighter bay had been blown completely off the top of the saucer section. Somehow, the Astrophysics Dome above it had stayed relatively intact. It merely floated free in space about 200 kilometers off the starboard bow. The main drive had been reduced to 35% power. Maneuvering thrusters were a dream. Fortunately, they were far enough out from what was left of the star that they would be able to repair before they fell into it--but it was going to be close.

But it was here that the Marionetonian spirit showed itself. The repair crews had actually begun work before radiation levels had returned to safety. Some gave their lives so that others would live. Fear was simply not a part of their make-up.

The diplomatic situation was not difficult to sort out. Rommel sent the message himself--and, as was his wont, there was nothing subtle about it.


In Marionetonia, a commander who was defeated as soundly,
and repeatedly, as those of the Watcher, would be asked
to provide his disembodied head to the next in line for command.
This is compounded by your arrogance in chiding us on our
tactical inability when your tactics have been pointedly shown
to be inferior to what your "inferiors" have come up with--
tactics that you had too much of that self-same arrogance
even to bother to consider.

Though your sensors did not detect it, there are three modules
that remain from the original hull of the Watcher. We
claim these, as recompense for your cowardice and incompetence.
They will be used to make our ship whole.

If you wish for us to continue to participate in this battle, it will
have to be run by some other commander, from some other planet,
who knows what the hell he's doing and doesn't have his head
stuck too far up his ass to look over the battlefield. Grow up
and learn to do your jobs.

OOC: Who precisely are you sending the message to, Mar? Keep in mind I don't have any ships in-system, and the Watcher is nothing more than a rapidly-expanding cloud of plasma.

[OOC: Also, there's hardly any star left. Just so you guys know.]

OOC: somebody had a sensor malfunction. There are three little pieces of Watcher left. No useful technology, but three little melted hunks of slag. The crew of the Surprise is salvaging them and using them to reinforce their hull plating.

The Message is going out to whatever planet it was that sent Watcher. The geek-types knew where to send it. :) :) :)

OOC: Uhm, I think you did. Watcher was annihilated completely, I do believe, at the end of HT's post. He said a mass of free atoms lingered in the nova, after he said the battleplate was burnt out and consumed.

So, tell me, where are this pieces coming from, hm?

((OOC - Regardless, after a nova of that magnitude there would be globules of molten matter floating about. With sensors fried to shit, it'd be easy to mistake a hunk of stellar matter for a piece of a battleplate.

By the way, are there any inhabited systems nearby? I just made a blind jump and I don't OOCly know where to wind up.))

[HT said that the battleplate was completely vaporized. Therefore, it is. I will not tolerate any more of this nonsense.

And the local area is pretty much a mined-out wreck at this point. Not much chance of stumbling into an occupied planet.]

A reply came streaming towards the Republic battleplate.

Our records of the battle note only that you made no contribution. We do not find you to be in any particular position to complain when it comes to the Watcher's strategy - one major Kara-fleet annihilated, and the destruction of a Dyson Sphere. It should be well noted that both of these assets cost considerably more - orders of magnitude more than a battleplate costs the Realm.

If all you are to do is continue complaining, please, by all means, leave. Judging by what you've done presently to Kara - or rather, the complete lack of what you've done presently to Kara, we have no need of your aid.

Furthermore, it should be well noted that we have been contacted by the Republic in enquiry regarding an apparently "illegal" action taken by your battleplate's commander. We will, of course, give them all the evidence they require, should it come to trial.

The Realm did not deal well with rudeness - especially from people who had not yet actually done anything. They would have been able to endure the anger of the Keluaun, or the Allaneans, or the Solarii - for they had fought and bled alongside them, and had lost lives because of it.

Emperor Mallus, as he typed out the final letters of the communique, hoped that this battleplate was somehow flagrantly violating Republican law. It would be sad to believe that the Republic had lost so much. In his boyhood, they had conquered Dratheria - swept across the galaxy like a tide unstoppable. And now, they were given to petty insults as a way to overcome their inadequacy? No, he would not believe it.

That being dealt with, he turned. There were still three active battleplates, and two superfortresses. One was untouched. For all the words against him, Watcher was still a fine commander, and he had fought Kara twice. Not to mention he would have a properly-outfitted battleplate, this time.

Something with guns.

"So," Rommel said with a smile, "they want to play politics."

"Never mind that we 'didn't contribute' because we were too busy following their orders," Hillary chimed in. "Never mind that we 'didn't contribute' because they refused to use the recon data that we gave them--information that prevented us from losing our ship in their cluster-fuck of a campaign. Never mind that--."

"Enough," Rommel retorted. "You're preaching to the choir. These people deserve what they're getting. I just hope that their rogue AI pastes 'em even better before she moves on to the Republic. There's no way it'll catch us by surprise the way it did with them. We've already shown that we're better than that."

"Are we going to go after them?"

"I see no reason to pull their asses out of the fire. No, we're going to wait for the Home Office to get in touch with us. We're going to fix ourselves up stronger than when we started. Despite what the hasenvaters said about us, we aquitted ourselves well in this one, and we don't need those arrogant bozos' say-so to prove it. We survived. They didn't."

Rommel laughed again, and sent the diplomatic statement to the "recycle" bin. "Ohh," he said, "we're rude, are we? They throw insults at us and we're rude. We didn't do anything, did we? They ignore our suggestions that would've saved their butts and we didn't contribute? It's a damn good thing that the toga boys are handling this one, because, if it was up to me, this would be a shooting war right now."

OOC:

Could someone please post a link to the follow-up thread?

(Note: IC sentiment is certainly not shared OOC'ly.)

Rommel laughed again, and sent the diplomatic statement to the "recycle" bin. "Ohh," he said, "we're rude, are we? They throw insults at us and we're rude. We didn't do anything, did we? They ignore our suggestions that would've invaded North Africa and we didn't invade North Africa? It's a damn good thing that the toga boys are handling this one, because, if it was up to me, this would be a North African war right now."

OOC:

http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=554385

Linky. And I made it sound better.

OOC: Two other SMALL questions:

Did the diplomatic response come from HT or Khrrck?

Is Khrrck going to be involved in the new thread?