NationStates Jolt Archive

Twelve years ago, the bridge of the Norsemace, a mighty Executor class Super Star Destroyer, was a place of honor and a sign of distinguished service.

Now, Admiral Michael Sain had no such feelings. What good was distinguished service to ghosts? He looked about the once-proud bridge, at the tired faces of his officers and the general state of disrepair of the ship reflected on the rust-stained walls.

Looking back at the large, thick windows, he caught a glimpse of his reflection. He looked every bit as bad as his ship, malnutrition and stress having taken its toll on the aged commander.

He ran a hand through his graying hair, sighing. For twelve years, he had stood on this bridge, uncertain of when his nightmares would come to life again. Every day he wondered if today would be the day they came to finish them all. It had been twelve years since his home system had been destroyed, and there wasn't a single day when he went to sleep fearing they would attack while he slept.

It was a common thread between all four million people in his fleet. They were from places scattered across the galaxy, from many backgrounds and cultures. The one thing they had in common was fear, a fear born when their homes were obliterated by the Galactic Hegemony. They all feared the Mekantans.


He was deep in thought when the loud grinding sound of the bridge doors opening, another of the many problems the ship had developed, interrupted him. He turned, nodding as he saw a young Vulcan female stride onto the bridge and salute. "Admiral Sain."

"Padawan T'na." He turned completely, folding his hands behind his back. "Please tell me you have some good news..."

"Aside from the birth of twins on the merchant transport Sereby, no, I do not." The Jedi reached into her robe, producing a small data pad. "... I believe you should read for yourself, Admiral."



For twelve years, Admiral Michael Sain's life revolved around keeping himself and his fleet hidden, lest the Mekantans find them. Never did the whole fleet enter a star system, communications were always close laser transmissions, and any time a Jedi felt even the hint of the Hegemony stumbling across them, the fleet ran. To broadcast a message, even away from the fleet, seemed unthinkable to him.

Yet here he stood on the bridge of the Star Destroyer Irreparable Spirit, in a system twelve light years away from the fleet, preparing to let the universe who they were, and how to meet them. He shot a glance over his shoulder back at the Padawan T'na and her master, the feeble looking old Tehn Zeck, a long-time friend and advisor. The two Jedi shot him reassuring looks, which he responded to by nodding. This was something that had to be done...

"... May the Force be with us..."

With that, he opened communications, praying they weren't found by the Mekantans...


To anyone who receive this message, I am Admiral Michael Sain, formerly of the Republic of Northwinds. Twelve years ago, Northwinds was the home of myself and my armada, until it was destroyed by a people calling themselves the Galactic Hegemony... the Mekantans...

Since the destruction of Northwinds, my fleet and I have gathered those whose systems and homes were similarly destroyed by the Mekantans and their Zircon minions. That is why, after twelve years of hiding, I am broadcasting this message. Many ships in my fleet, populated by people who have not known rest since the Mekantans obliterated their worlds and crushed their stars, were not made for such long operation without maintainance. Life support and other critical systems are beginning to fail across the fleet.

All I ask is your aid in keeping many good people from dying...

With that, he shut off communications, sighing. "... Now we wait..."


-OOC-
New Sub-nation. These guys are called The Displaced.

As anyone familiar with the Galactic Hegemony knows, the Mekantans destroy a LOT of star systems. Any contact with the Hegemony usually takes place in the wreckage of such a system. The Displaced are the people who called those systems home, and those peoples living there their families and friends. Needless to say, they aren't exactly fans of the Mekantans.

Very mixed-tech nomadic group. Star Destroyers with phaser arrays, Gundams and lesser Mobile Suits using giant Covenant beam swords, that kind of thing. The one thing I ask? Don't tell the Mekantans they're here. I'd kind of like to keep these guys alive. ^_^

Chaos means many things. To some it is an eternal enemy that cannot be defeated but only contained, to others it mean nightmares of untold proportions becoming dire, horrific realities as minds raveled into the depths of insanity, and yet some considered it the subject for a non-serious religion, throwing tantric hails to Eris and Discordia in their innocence and naiveness. For a few however, Chaos meant opportunity, and sometimes, even freedom.

The Nets population has decreased since the wake of Gliese system to the reality of the multiverse. Men and women who before wasted decades playing online reality games now were awakening to the fact that the fight against the very enemies of freedom and anarchism was ever-lasting, and that victims of tyranny and oppression, both from inhuman men and Xenos, were everywhere to be found. To expand was the only way to secure their future, and the eventual eradication of State, and of all those too alien to understand the concept of freedom. Realizing that their struggle was not yet over, thus many found a still alive duty to flourish in their sacrifice of forfeiting the unlimited entertainment and pleasures of the universes of data to fight again for what they believed, in the universes of matter.

And thus they descended from Heaven, to fight in Hell. No fear, no mercy, only honoring the dealings they already had, until the the time they would no longer be convenient. The multiverse however was too vast for actively searching victims, oppressed ones to be liberated. Yet the noises, the garbled signals, the insanity and the useful information that could be filtered from Chaos served as their primary looking glass to the multiverse. And sometimes, among the blood lusting cries of the Khornate, distress calls could be found... in fact, although rare due to all interferences and randomness of the realm through which they went before reaching the universe of the Solarians, some of them could still reach them. And thus one did.

Of course, even those who still wanted to work, regardless of how automation "did" everything and "replaced" man, needed vacations sometimes. Even if they were not in a touristic site made of matter, and even if such site was a battlefield. There was rubble, the sound of rolling tracks, dust, broken homes, and the clear sign of being crouched. The man was loading his assault rifle, and its underbarrel grenade launcher, as the man to his side explained:

"Try to aim your grenades against those fascist pigs there."

When he observed, from the safety of a small foxhole, the enemy positions, he realized how difficult it would be to score a hit in the middle of such urban warfare nightmare, and by a strike of coincidence, by the time he was going to reply back a strange message broke the fourth wall:

"DISTRESS CALL DETECTED... FILTERING COMPLETE.

To anyone who receive this message, I am Admiral Michael Sain, formerly of the Republic of Northwinds. Twelve years ago, Northwinds was the home of myself and my armada, until it was destroyed by a people calling themselves the Galactic Hegemony... the Mekantans...

Since the destruction of Northwinds, my fleet and I have gathered those whose systems and homes were similarly destroyed by the Mekantans and their Zircon minions. That is why, after twelve years of hiding, I am broadcasting this message. Many ships in my fleet, populated by people who have not known rest since the Mekantans obliterated their worlds and crushed their stars, were not made for such long operation without maintainance. Life support and other critical systems are beginning to fail across the fleet.

All I ask is your aid in keeping many good people from dying... "

The man suddenly clenched his fist and shouted:

"Mekantans! The ultimate proof that to give mercy to aliens is to doom humanity. What the hell? Can we trace this transmission back to its source and contact it?"

"Acknowledged, all ready for reply..." the system replied. Then all of a sudden the sensations, the breathing of dust, the noises, the smell of death, the taste of dryness, vanished without a trace, and even the very body of the soldier seemed... different. She remembered again that gender was not necessarily attached to the material counterpart in the virtual worlds.

"Annika, why did you choose a male avatar?" she suddenly heard out of nowhere, but she knew it was Perera, the new staffed crewmember of the station, she did not even exercised her vocal chords or opened her mouth to reply back:

"We can rescue human beings from the clutches of scum and you ask me this? We need to assemble now... a Prime Assault Fleet to rescue them."

"Come on Annika. Who even knows if there are human beings among them, rather than Xenu dregs that the Mekantans would do a service to us by exterminating?"

Walking towards a strangely lively environment for a space station, no matter how not everything she saw was made of matter, Annika followed through grafitti loaded corridors towards the docking area of the station, preparing herself for another long and potentially risky trip. At the same time, the distress call was retransmitted to Gliese 581c, coupled with a request for a PAF, something that wasn't small at all. The last time a PAF was used was to exterminate an entire alien species in the multiverse, but a more humanitarian role was logical... no matter how killing aliens was essentially humanitarian for it ensured the future of humanity. Hopefully some of their private forces would be generous, or otherwise she would have to leverage it somehow. But she had to explain to Perera how that it was likely to exist humans among such desperate refugees.

"Perera, we cannot dismiss such possibility just because of a remote possibility of human beings among the crew... and anyway, if we are just going to kill all of them, at least our methods will be quite painless compared to what that... that savage filth with more technology than the clubs and spears that savages like them deserve have, compared to what they would do."

"Very well, but a PAF is no joke... seriously, do you believe that?"

"Perera. Eventually we will have the means to exterminate every Mekantan from the multiverse, to wipe out this abortion of evolution, this dreg of the universe... forever they stand no chances in an offensive war against us, because the gross of their technology would not work in our universe, just as for now we don't stand any chance in an offensive war against them because their technology works in their base of operations. If necessary, damn this signing I may yet regret more than breaking it. We just need to ensure that they won't perceive us as sheeple, or otherwise the entire operation would succumb."

"But Annika, a PAF main role is to exterminate threats impervious to conventional..."

"By exterminating the aggressors, if necessary, we are protecting the victims. And the Mekantans are impervious to conventional, period. For real, they were unharmed by relativistic weaponry... so only unconventional weapons would be able to keep them at their place."

"Very well Annika, lets see what the people think about lending you a PAF."

And thus the discussion ended, as Annika awaited for a decision to come... countless lives were at stake, and she had something personal with the Mekantans... as after all, it is her fault that they cannot engage them directly, not because of technological disparity, but because of honoring agreements. Essentially they were the monsters, the demons, the beasts made real, nothing but large mobile targets with bullseye in the mind of Solarians, and probably among the greatest priorities in the supposed list of species to be exterminated. Their very existence was abhorrent, for it was the very root of all the atrocities done by them. A certain restlessness would ensue for Annika, until the last Mekantan was killed. In fact, where before she has chosen to embrace eventual death, now she felt that she would live as long as tyranny existed. The very Mekantans thus, ironically, saved her from dying of age by giving to her, and many other Solarians, a real purpose to exist. They were only part of a greater issue.

Perhaps more ironic was the fact that, besides not being as cruel, for the point of view of non-humans, the Solarians were not that different from the Mekantans, and although their means were similar regarding other species, the ends for which they killed were not. The opportunity of rescuing humanity was more important than the opportunity of wiping out alien species, or not depending on the point of view. Yet the hatred was as much of a motivating factor as their love for mankind. And fortunately, it has served well to ensure that the Prime Assault Fleet would be given... it would take seven days however, for it to catch up with Annika and warp through Chaos, as their universe was devoid of means to travel faster than light.

During this time, those they sought to rescue would be at peril. And yet, a reply had to be given... somehow. Annika soon established a new transmission through her very will, and thus, Admiral Michael Sain desperate call would soon be given an answer:

"This is Annika Corrientes of the Anarchist Confederation of Solar Communes. We are sending in support to your location and will guide your fleet to a location that the Mekantans will never be able to harm, but there is only one way for us to ensure your safety. I know it is a bit complicated to suddenly accept what I am about to propose. The Confederation is perhaps the only truly free civilization of the entire known verse, but we cannot claim the diplomatic measures to protect those who are not our citizens. Our only way to ensure our safety until our support fleet arrives is for you to become citizens of the Confederation. If you agree with it, your citizenship shall be given immediately, with no second wasted, and thus, as determined by sovereignty, any aggression done against citizens of the Confederation is an act of war against it. Trust me, if you accept this offer you shall be safe. However, to receive citizenship, you must renounce to any formal positions of authority, due to the very principles through which the Confederation was born."

"Annika! You can't be serious? What you've done could put us in a war against the Mekantans because of alien scum like them!"

"We got to take risks if we are willing to further or cause Perera. Remember that the likelihood of no human being in this group of victims of the Mekantan scumbag is practically zero."

"Very well... I just hope that this won't be in vain."

"It won't... the Mekantans are not gods, as the fearful think... and even if they were, like good anarchists, we would abolish them."

And thus it began.

The PAF began to move towards the station from their position in one of the Gliese 581c Lagrange points, the week would be a week of waiting in aprehension for Annika, and yet of negotiations. Her choice has been made, and only weaklings and cowards would turn back now.

Despite its fame, the PAF was not centered on juggernauts, even though its Prime Assault Spacecraft, known as the PAS Bosch, was quite a sight, and yet it was not truly massive, being apparently run-of-the-mill toroidal torchship mostly covered in ice, with some sort of spinal weapon and at first sight, no turrets. Making big was not necessarily the best approach, even though there was nothing smaller than Assault Core Spacecrafts, which were by far considered the "space fighters" of the PAF, for all of them were impressively maneuverable for their size.

Ironically, the very laws of science that made Solarians safe from threats like the Mekantans served to hinder their efforts to rescue survivors from their untold mass murders and atrocities. And perhaps, all would be for nothing.

"Senators! Senators! We've picked up a transmission! Dux Gnaeus thought you might want to hear this!" Frowning, the High Senator took the recording. As the message rang through the dimly lit chambers, every Senator was silent.

To anyone who receive this message, I am Admiral Michael Sain, formerly of the Republic of Northwinds. Twelve years ago, Northwinds was the home of myself and my armada, until it was destroyed by a people calling themselves the Galactic Hegemony... the Mekantans...

Since the destruction of Northwinds, my fleet and I have gathered those whose systems and homes were similarly destroyed by the Mekantans and their Zircon minions. That is why, after twelve years of hiding, I am broadcasting this message. Many ships in my fleet, populated by people who have not known rest since the Mekantans obliterated their worlds and crushed their stars, were not made for such long operation without maintainance. Life support and other critical systems are beginning to fail across the fleet.

All I ask is your aid in keeping many good people from dying...

The High Senator nodded. "I believe we must vote on this immediately. All in favor of sending The Raven Fleet, stand up." Every Moralite in the room stood up. "Let's see. Okay. Second Unanimous vote in the history of our nation. We go to help them."

Near the transmission signal...

Four ships quickly exited a wormhole near the transmission signal. The Raven, The Feather, and The Murder all escorting a ship that looked more like a chewtoy for the larger ships labelled The Wrench. Captain Spurious began broadcasting a message, ordering the Void sensors to be brought back online.

This is Moralite Commander Spurious. We have come responding to an emergency broadcast signal requesting help because of mechanical failure, or almost reaching the point of mechanical failure. I have been brought along as an escort for The Wrench, who's crew is capable of fixing almost any mechanical problem. Is anyone still there?

Imperial Star Destroyer Revenant
Current Mission: Unknown Regions Exploration
Admiral Belisarius Task Force


The comms officer sat at his station twisting various modules and pressing keys in a variety of scores. To any casual observer it might have reminded one of a time when men and women played the ancient piano back on Old Terra. But for the present, it was clear that the man was working feverishly at his controls. He had a signal, he knew that. But he couldn't just pin-point it for a clear reception. It kept coming in spurts and garbled about as much as drunk Rodian, hardly helping the young technician from understanding it. His superior officer noticed his busy actions and stepped up behind him.

"Message from the fleet?" the lieutenant asked.

"Negative sir," replied the ensign, "I'm getting an unknown transmission signal...its far enough away that I can't get a clear reception on it. Not to mention that most transmissions have trouble out here in Wild Space." The ensign had a good point. Even if Grand Admiral Thrawn had tamed a large portion of the Unknown Regions, he wasn't able to change the fact that communications and hyper-travel was, at best, very complicated.

"Well show me what you've got so far," the lieutenant ordered. The ensign nodded and flipped a series of switches, and a male voice filtered through along with copious amounts of static.

"To...who rece-...this..ssage, I am Admiral...ain, form-...of the...Northw.... Twe...ears...Nort...was the home of...and my arm...unt...it was destroyed...a people callin...the Gala...Hege... the Mekantans..." The ensign shut it off.

"There are two more parts to the message but I've not been able to decipher them. And as you can see, the first part is about as clean as a Hutt's bath," the tired comm ensign said.

"Keep working on it," commanded the lieutenant. "I'll get this up to the captain and see what he makes of it."

The lieutenant walked away from the communications array at the rear, aft side of the bridge and marched down the isle between the two main crew pits, to the head of the bridge where an officer stood looking out at the nearby system that they had been investigating for the past few days. The officer seemed oblivious to the lieutenant's presence, even the sound of his boots hitting the metal floor, until he spotted the reflection in the transparisteel of the viewport.

"Yes Lieutenant Bradley?" asked the captain.

"Sir, we've just intercepted a long range transmission," reported the lieutenant.

"Imperial?"

"No sir, it appears to be something else but the transmission code seems vary similar to Imperial variations."

"What does it say? Is it urgent?" asked the captain, obviously his interest a bit piqued.

"We don't know yet sir, its still garbled, but we're working on it as I speak. We should have it clearly translated within a few hours. The tone of the message sounded very urgent."

"Very well Lieutenant, return to your post and inform me when the message is fully translated and clear," ordered Captain Sunber.

The lieutenant saluted smartly and turned in a precise twist of his legs in a manner that would have made any drill instructor crying for joy. But then the crew of the Revenant were some of the best in the sector, and Captain Janek Sunber wouldn't take anything less. He'd been in the Imperial Navy for the better part of two decades, serving under first the Coruscant Guard, but then submitted a transfer to the Thrashian Empire when the opportunity arose, chasing after his desire to serve under the best commander the galaxy had ever known: Grand Admiral Thrawn. And serve Sunber did, acting as a ship captain in Thrawn's fleet that conquered the majority of Wild Space.

All the same though, he felt some unease. They'd encountered several different species out in the Unknown Regions, but not many had had the same technological level that the Imperials had. To receive a transmission using coding along similar lines as Imperial...that was truly interesting.

* * * * * * *

Twelve hours later the comm ensign, having worked three shifts in a row, had finally worked through and cleaned up the message. Sunber had seen to it that the man received a commendation and sent him off the bridge for some desperately needed R&R.

To anyone who receive this message, I am Admiral Michael Sain, formerly of the Republic of Northwinds. Twelve years ago, Northwinds was the home of myself and my armada, until it was destroyed by a people calling themselves the Galactic Hegemony... the Mekantans...

Since the destruction of Northwinds, my fleet and I have gathered those whose systems and homes were similarly destroyed by the Mekantans and their Zircon minions. That is why, after twelve years of hiding, I am broadcasting this message. Many ships in my fleet, populated by people who have not known rest since the Mekantans obliterated their worlds and crushed their stars, were not made for such long operation without maintainance. Life support and other critical systems are beginning to fail across the fleet.

All I ask is your aid in keeping many good people from dying...

Captain Sunber after reading the message felt there was but one course of action he could take. He was a tough officer to be under, because of his standards of work he expected from the crews under him, but he was also a man who knew when to be kind and let up a little. A testimony to that was the holopict of a small child running around a yard that sat in his quarters below decks. Sunber turned to his deck officer.

"Helm, make your mark 2 and head towards the aft by forty degrees, then prepare to make the jump into hyperspace," ordered Sunber.

"What's our destination, sir?" asked the lieutenant in charge of the helm.

Sunber handed the man a dataplate with the message and the coordinates that they specified. "Here."

Imperial Star Destroyer Revenant
Current Mission: Emergency Signal Discovery
Admiral Belisarius Task Force


"Captain, we've just entered an unknown system. Judging from what mapping is telling us, we're roughly seventy light years from the nearest Imperial outpost," reported Lieutenant Bradley. Standing before the transparisteel viewport on the aft side of the bridge, Captain Sunber nodded.

"Sweep the system lieutenant, I want a full report," Sunber ordered.

"Sir."

The Revenant launched a picket line of TIE Interceptors and a few scout variations sped off deeper into the system. Within a matter of a few minutes, less than half an hour, they had something to report about. And it was karking big.

"ComScan reports the presence of another vessel in system sir," Lieutenant Bradley reported, an odd timbre to his voice. Captain Sunber turned and looked at him.

"What is it?"

"From the report, it seems to be a large vessel," continued Bradley.

"What type?" demanded Sunber.

"Star Destroyer-class sir," said Bradley, a perplexed and worried look on his face.

"Imperial?" asked Sunber.

"No sir. It doesn't check out on the scanners. The power output and detectable system outputs are all wrong, some aren't even suppose to be on an Imperial Star Destroyer," said Bradley.

"Did we isolate the transmission coding?" asked Sunber.

"Yes sir, we've got it set that we can reply at any time," Bradley said.

"Good, then open up a transmission line."

"Aye, sir."

Esteemed Sir,

I am Captain Sunber, commander of the Imperial Star Destroyer Revenant, from the Empire of Thrashia. We received your distress signal not long ago and responded in kind. A face to face meeting, or failing that, a holo transmission would be nice to further talking together. If we can offer any medical assistance that you may need immediately, it will be made so as soon as we can get to you.

Arcology Prime - Tritania - Earth; Capital of the Facehuggerian Imperium

Kaz strode through the silver-gilded halls of the capital levels, slowly making his way through the twisting turns towards the arcology's summit. The Empress had summoned him, and if there was one thing he knew about the little girl he helped raise, it was that she always had a good reason for things. If she was calling him, something important was going down.

He cursed; the displacers leading to the Empress' administration center were blocked for security reasons, and while he, one of the most powerful men in the Imperium wouldn't have to wait in security being processed for hours, it still meant that he had to walk all the way there. Valuable time was being lost, all in the name of security.

Finally, he reached the enormous meter-thick blast doors that separated the administration center from the rest of the arcology. The ones that could take a conversion bomb or nuke-pumped graser without even registering on the people within.

They vanished without a sound. Probably being spot-recycled; their mass flowing freely towards concealed storage tanks elsewhere on the level.

Within, Kaz found pretty much exactly what he expected. Little Arie - The Empress, he corrected himself, stood at the opposite end of a large round table. A dozen chairs, some filled and some empty, encircled it.

Kaz's practiced eyes took in the hovering, robed form of Consular Vale, looking as mysteriously inscrutable as usual. Damn hivemind. He'd never liked them. Sure, they were instrumental in the rebuilding of the Imperium, and sure they seemed moral, but he still found it unnerving to speak with them.

Then his gaze flickered towards another of Ariel's closest advisors. Klrrdrav had been with them since the beginning. The vaguely-humanoid crustacean inclined his head and twiched his antenna in greeting. "Hello, Kaz. I see she called everyone together for this council."

Klrrdrav's people, the result of an old Imperium genetic experiment, were equal partners in the new Imperium. Sure he looked like some monster from the briny depths, covered head to toe in reddened armor-chitin to resist the pressure of closeby fusion charges, but beneath all that beat a heart as generous and honorable as any human. Indeed, Klrrdrav was more human than a lot of humans that Kaz'd met in his life. It was good to see a friendly face.

Knight-Captain Shanan was here too, representing the Imperial Knights. Though counted as part of the OOB in Ariel's legions, in practice, they were independent. Kaz nodded at her, and got a smile in response. Damn, she looked good.

Beside her stood the wispy, holographic form of the Empress' personal AI Adjutant, Diana. And beside her, in all his black metallic splendor, was the robotic form of "Premier" Volkov. The poor machine thought it was the twelve thousand year old mindstate of the Facehuggerian Premier. Still, Kaz grinned. Its advice was good. Usually.

"Well, the gang's all here. So what's so important we had to show up at this little happy hour? I don't appreciate being woken up at this ungodly hour, Arie." Kaz yawned.

"This." The Empress said, waving a hand. Instantly, a loud and obviously electronically filtered voice boomed through the chamber. The distress call.

To anyone who receive this message, I am Admiral Michael Sain, formerly of the Republic of Northwinds. Twelve years ago, Northwinds was the home of myself and my armada, until it was destroyed by a people calling themselves the Galactic Hegemony... the Mekantans...

Since the destruction of Northwinds, my fleet and I have gathered those whose systems and homes were similarly destroyed by the Mekantans and their Zircon minions. That is why, after twelve years of hiding, I am broadcasting this message. Many ships in my fleet, populated by people who have not known rest since the Mekantans obliterated their worlds and crushed their stars, were not made for such long operation without maintainance. Life support and other critical systems are beginning to fail across the fleet.

All I ask is your aid in keeping many good people from dying...

Kaz frowned. He'd done wargames with the Mekantans, long, long ago. Not much scared the former First Imperium centurion, but damn if they didn't. Their strength and brutality was legendary. Hell, if he'd not seen it with his own eyes, he'd have never believed the stories.

"Kaz, what do you know about the Mekantans?" Arie asked.

"Powerful, strong... About as evil as the First Imperium, 'cept without even the lie of morality to keep 'em restrained. Before you ask, no, there is no way in hell we could go toe to toe with them. Hell, even the First Imperium figured a war would gut both sides, and we all know how arrogant they were." Kaz replied.

"War was never on the table, Kaz. They are our "allies" by the ESUS, and we can't do anything overt against them without breaking the compact and losing the benefit of the mutual defense treaty. And, obviously, we can't do that until we've consolidated our holdings in Facehuggerian territory. Everyone outside thinks we're strong and our speedy conquest of the Facehuggerian Republic certainly suggests as much... But you know as well as I that it's just a smokescreen." Ariel replied.

"Of course I do. But if we aren't here to make war plans, why am I here? I'm master of the legions. If there's no prospect for planetary campaigns, I don't see why you need my input here." Kaz replied.

"Simple - Experience." Ariel replied. "As to our actions... Obviously overt opposition to Mekanta is out. However, I see no problem with covert opposition. These refugees had their very homes literally eaten out from under them. We have an obligation to help them. Our allies, after all, were the ones who attacked first."

Kaz nodded. "Very well."

"So, I will be ordering one of the Red Swastika's hospital ships, along with a salvage and repair unit, to make contact. Consular, I would like Odon to send one of its mediators, along with the standard firstcon diplomatic team. Gyra, I'd like for that team to have a Knight escort. We must impress upon these people that we are strong enough to resist the Mekantans, and thus that we will not turn them in out of fear. Kaz, Fleet Pod Gladius will be on... "wargames" in the area, in case everything goes pear shaped. They're under orders not to intervene if the Mekantans show up for the party, but just about anyone else is fair game. Especially slavers." The Empress replied. "Especially slavers. You know how attractive a target refugee fleets are. The Terran 1st and 2nd legions are aboard, yes?"

"Aye, Empress." Kaz replied. "If it does come down to a ground war, or, hell, a boarding action, we'll be dominant. They're our two best legions, and I've been teaching them all my old tricks."

"Excellent." Ariel replied. "Anything else?"

"Princess... I don't know about this." Volkov's mechanical voice piped in. "I was here for the first Mekantan war. I saw how they fight. We only beat them off our soil through, basically, burying them in bodies. Refugee aid is one thing, but provoking the Meks is quite another. Please, come with me to the Achidna memorial before you do anything that might earn their ire. Your idealism is refreshing and worthy - but you've got to temper it with a dose of common sense. And doing anything to piss them off goes massively against common sense."

Ariel nodded. "Of course, Volkov. So it's decided. Refugee aid to begin with, and the rest we'll take as it comes. Any objections?"

No one replied. "Good. Diana, if you will handle the coordination; Volkov and I have a crater to visit."

"Yes, Empress."

***

Intergalactic Red Swastika vessel Mercy - Arrival at transmission origin imminent.

Captain Marlow grinned. His first assignment as captain of the Mercy was giving aid to a refugee fleet fleeing an unspeakably evil foe! It was the sort of thing they wrote stories about in the great codex!

He couldn't help but let a little pride swell. There were few better medical facilities in the Imperium than those aboard the Swastika's hospital ships. And Mercy was the best of them.

"Displacer drives are primed and coordinates are locked and transmitted through to the Greasemonkey and Olive Branch. We are ready to depart as soon as you give the word. The navy has a fleet pod doing exercises a few hundred light years from the refugees with T-Gate coordinates locked in. If someone shows up, we'll have practically the biggest stick in the universe to bash them over the head with." Melanie, Harlow's second, said. "I've uploaded it all to the ship net. You can jack in at your leisure."

"Melanie, I simply love your bluntness. Now, let's go help some people!" Captain Harlow replied, opening his neural lace's wireless connection ports. "Engage!"

***

If sound could have carried in space, an onlooker would have heard a slight trio of pops as the three vessels; the hospital ship, the salvager, and the diplomatic cutter, vanished from Facehuggerian space and appeared half a galaxy away.

***

Diplomatic Cutter Olive Branch - 1 AU from transmission origin

Diplomat-Prime Carl Vagner glanced at the sensor readouts with no small degree of dismay. The refugee fleet looked like it was falling apart, with many ships having been clearly cobbled together in an attempt to keep something spaceworthy. How many people were crammed together in far too few ships, rubbing elbows like sardines in a thousand cans?

The irony of that metaphor, given Mekantan eating habits, was not lost on him.

Beside him hovered the ominous be-robed form of the Odonian Mediator, its (his? Her?) titian mantle almost, but not quite reaching the ground. The black bubble that it called a face rippled slightly, like water after an octopus' inkspray. If he squinted, he could just make out indistinct faces behind its surface.

He'd always found them creepy. But they were as equal in the Imperium as anyone else, even if they didn't talk much. Besides, the Empress herself had ordered its presence.

Vagner sighed. "Send the following transmission:"

This is the Facehuggerian diplomatic vessel Olive Branch. We have received your distress call. With us, we bring the mobile hospital vessel Mercy and the repair vessel Greasemonkey to render aid as needed. May we approach? Message repeats - This is the Facehuggerian diplomatic vessel...

"And so, it begins." The Mediator's voice sounded soft and strange, as if heard from a great distance.

OOC: Lawful Good? More like Lawful "I wanna be raped by tentacles" if the Mekantans get wind of this. :p

-OOC-
Working on a reply. Got a bit sidetracked by necessary computer work. ^_^

(OOC: Okay, who wants some dramatic action? We seem to be accumulating quite a bit of firepower in this system. It'd be a shame for it all to go to unused, wouldn't it? ^_^)

Admiral Sain looked nervously at the list of incoming communications, looking back at the two Jedi. "... Sense anything?"

Tehn Zeck simply smiled and shook his head. "The Force is with us, it seems..."

"Indeed," the aged admiral turned to a communications officer, nodding, "inform Runner-1 to go."

"Yes sir. Runner-1, this is control, you are clear to launch, I repeat, you are clear to launch. Bring them in per flight plan alpha."

The bridged watched tensely as a modified X-wing made its way away from the Star Destroyer, quickly jumping into hyperspace and leaving the Irreparable Spirit to negotiate with the alien powers.

Admiral Sain cracked his knuckles, sighing. "... First this Anarchist Confederation of Solar Communes..."

... While we appreciate your offer, twelve years of watching the Mekantans ravage the galaxy unchecked fills me with doubt that any place safe from them truely exists. Furthermore, while I will transmit your offer of citizenship to my people, you may find them similarly disbelieving. We are happy to hear of those who would oppose the Mekantans, however.

We are here, commander. Thank you for answering our call. We have our most critically damaged ships incoming, along with additional warship escorts. If you can spare any components or help synthesize them, it would be greatly appreciated. Our ships should arrive in two minutes.

When the TIE Interceptors came into sensor range of the Irreparable Spirit, the only person on the bridge not smiling was T'na. When the Thrashian transmission came, there was a cheer, which Admiral Sain quickly quieted down.

This is Admiral Sain, on board the Northwinds Republic Star Destroyer Irreparable Spirit. You have no idea how good it is to see a shiny new Star Destroyer for the first time in twelve years, captain. Regrettably, the Irreparable Spirit used to be capable of holo transmissions, but twelve years is a long time. If you'd like to come aboard the Irreparable Spirit, I'd be more than happy to speak here. It's not as well-maintained as my flagship, the Norsemace, but you also won't have civilians underfoot. As for medical aid, our own supplies are nearly exhausted, and we have numerous sick and crippled. Anything you can spare for the civilians arriving would be appreciated. Us military types are tough enough to wait, eh?

The elements of the Displaced fleet arrived before the Facehuggerians. The most critically damaged vessels were sent into the system first, along with a second Star Destroyer and the Battlestar Nexus, converted into a dedicated carrier with a second two hangers on the underside of the ship. Every ship, especially the civilian vessels, looked ragged and beaten, as years of fighting and hiding had taken their toll on the ships and their crews.

When the Facehuggerians arrived, they were as welcome a sight as the Moralites and Thrashians.

[You're a welcome sight, Olive Branch. Your comrades too. We have numerous injured and sick, on ships about to collapse under their own mass. Any help you can give would be appreciated. Every survivor we have is a slap in the face to those Mekantan butchers and every wretch allied with them.


(OOC: So, who wants some fireworks? ^_^)

(OOC: Oh boy...)

Imperial Star Destroyer Revenant

"Captain Sunber, we've received a reply message from Admiral Sain," reported Lieutenant Bradley.

"Play it for me," ordered Sunder, who stood looking out at the distant speck that was the Neo-Mekanta vessel.

This is Admiral Sain, on board the Northwinds Republic Star Destroyer Irreparable Spirit. You have no idea how good it is to see a shiny new Star Destroyer for the first time in twelve years, captain. Regrettably, the Irreparable Spirit used to be capable of holo transmissions, but twelve years is a long time. If you'd like to come aboard the Irreparable Spirit, I'd be more than happy to speak here. It's not as well-maintained as my flagship, the Norsemace, but you also won't have civilians underfoot. As for medical aid, our own supplies are nearly exhausted, and we have numerous sick and crippled. Anything you can spare for the civilians arriving would be appreciated. Us military types are tough enough to wait, eh?

Admiral Sain,

It is good to know that you're in high spirits. Seeing as holocommunications are impossible at this time, if I and a few of my officers are allowed to meet with you, than that would be appreciative. And fear not about any mess. We were all space junkies at one point or another. I will be arriving shortly aboard my personal transport. Captain Sunber out.

Sunber was making his way to his own Lambda-class shuttle when his comlink chirped and Lieutenant Bradley, in charge while Sunber was gone, told him of the arrival of the rest of the Displaced fleet. Describing in detail the ComScan reports that made it clear how badly the ships were in regard to power, weapons, and defenses. Those people had apparently been through Hell and then gone back a second time. The captain was a bit perturbed at the news of another, naval force when Bradley informed him of the arrival of the Facehuggerians, but took it all in stride.

OOC:


Sunber was making his way to his own Lambda-class shuttle when his comlink chirped and Lieutenant Bradley, in charge while Sunber was gone, told him of the arrival of the rest of the Neo-Mekanta fleet. Describing in detail the ComScan reports that made it clear...

I think you might have made a slight Typo there. It probably should have been "Displaced fleet" because if Mek showed up, pretty much everyone here would be on the endangered list very soon, followed by a platter.

OOC: Fixed.

(OOC: Okay, who wants some dramatic action? We seem to be accumulating quite a bit of firepower in this system. It'd be a shame for it all to go to unused, wouldn't it? ^_^)

You are absolutely right. :p

Oh, and Thrashia - The only CF forces in system are the hospital ship, the diplomatic cutter, and the repair ship. The naval forces are on "wargames" a few systems away, quietly keeping an eye on things and making ready in case they need to intervene to protect Facehuggerian assets.

So unless you're including that fleet in the tally, the only other militarily powerful fleet here besides you would be the Solar Communes one. :p

Anyway; IC:

"Message received, Prime. They... Ah. They welcome the assistance and are providing approach vectors. There's a problem though." The Olive Branch's AI said, her holographic avatar flickering into existence besides him.

Vagner sighed. "When *isn't* there a problem? Alright, Liv, lay it on me."

"Oh, it's a reasonable thing, given their position." Liv was his pet name for the somewhat childish AI.

"And? Spit it out." Vagner demanded.

"Well, see, they don't really like Mekantans." She replied.

"Naturally. That's rather obvious. And?"

"-And they don't much like their allies, either." She finished.

"Which means they aren't going to react well to the news that until recently, we were some of their closest allies." Vagner rubbed his chin in thought. "And they aren't going to react well to the Communes' overtures either, once they find out we're all part of the big dysfunctional family that is the ESUS. I see the problem. Well, we'll just have to frame it right."

"A Facehuggerian diplomat who's actually thinking like a diplomat? Shocking." She replied. "What do you have in mind?"

He shrugged. "Yadda yadda, "we're only allies of convenience to keep them from attacking us" arglebargle "we'd conquer and reeducate them if we were strong enough" blah blah. You know, the usual. Besides, they're in a pretty desperate situation. They aren't exactly in the position to refuse help, no matter where it comes from. We'll just have to be careful. I for one don't fancy getting shot in the head. Or anywhere else, either."

"Might I suggest a set of power armor, sir?" She held out her hand, a tiny image of a reconnaissance armor suit appearing within it.

"No. It'll be essential that they have a human face in negotiations. We want to seem strong, and that's what the Knights are for; but we don't want to imply we're some nation of barbarians. If we all go in with full battle armor, that'll send the wrong message. And, you know how the Zircon are. You've read the reports. They're faceless, just like our suits... No. I'll go unarmored. Fab me a shieldbelt. It'll only be good for one or two shots, but that should hopefully be all I need."

"As you wish. I am directing the repair ship and mobile hospital closer to the refugee fleet. Should I clear them to begin taking on wounded and transferring supplies?"

"No." He replied. "We have no idea how the refugees will react once they discover who we are. We'll discuss it with their leaders before adding fuel to an already volatile situation... Now, I'm taking the shuttle. It's best to get this over with. Have the rest of the team meet me there."

***

The Olive Branch's shuttle bay was small and cramped, home to two sleek and unarmed diplomatic shuttles when there was really only space for one.

And the presence of a sword of Imperial knights, clad in full battle armor, only made it more crowded.

Four eighty ton, eight foot tall super-soldiers in grav-lightened battle armor; the extra-bulky kind with the pointy pyramid-shaped helmets, took up too much space.

It'd be a tight fit through the Star Destroyer's corridors, but hopefully they wouldn't have to march in single file.

A bigger problem was their armor's preferred choice of coloring.

"What is this bullshit? Bloodstains? Rust? Listen, I know you guys are big on intimidation, and that the blood-and-rust motif is what the rape god uses, but that damn well isn't appropriate here. Shift your armor to something more neutral. Something that doesn't make you look like something out of a Mekantan porn flick. And then get your asses into this transport."

The four knights didn't move, or make any sound. However, the color started bleeding out of their armor, bubbling and vanishing away until the only thing left was a dull, slightly blackened gray.

It would have to do.

"Let's get this over with." Vagner said, stepping into the shuttle. The knights followed, and behind them came Diplomats Crond and Mongler. The Odonian mediator hovered serenely in the rear, orange mantle fluttering slightly from the motion.

With that, they were off. The shuttle launched, and began making its way to the refugee fleet.

Shivans? Shivans I say? Bump for Mek. :p

Suspicion was something transposed from the most basic instinct of survival to the rational thought, and indeed, entire civilizations would have perished if they trusted everyone. However, sometimes the very suspicion that led some to their continued existence, also ironically led others to their demise. Annika has been aware of how their people have been suspicious, and yet agreed to something that seemed totally contradictory to what they believed at. And thus, in something that would make a global alliance between Nazi Germany, Soviet Union and The Allies logical in comparison happened years ago. The irony was the fact that indeed served as the primary mean to ensure the safety of those millions, should they accept their proposal.

Racing against time, their fusion torch drives at full power, the Prime Assault Fleet, for now deprived of any form of faster-than-light travel made their long way of an entire week to reach the light-days away gateway to the Immaterium, and surprisingly, there were barely any life signs at them. Most of them were only hulking torchships, with no recreation area, no crew quarters, and a few having only chambers where a handful of mostly spacemen were in suspended animation, where the mass otherwise allocated for personell was used to allocate a bit more in firepower, protection and propulsion. Such allowed them to accelerate slightly faster than something crewed by thousands, and such slight increase could be the difference between life and death for many.

Annika had to gain the trust of people she did not met face to face. And yet, the terrible truth could wipe out any sense of trust at all. It was a necessary choice to gulp, and now, a chance stood to make a difference. She was simply a motionless body, awaiting next to a docking ring in the station for a shuttle to take her to the PAS Bosch. And an entire week remained for her to gain the trust of such distraught people, as shown in their skepticism as the answer came:

"... While we appreciate your offer, twelve years of watching the Mekantans ravage the galaxy unchecked fills me with doubt that any place safe from them truely exists. Furthermore, while I will transmit your offer of citizenship to my people, you may find them similarly disbelieving. We are happy to hear of those who would oppose the Mekantans, however."

Seems like I will have to prove it the hard way.

Annika did not even blink an eye, she would have plenty of time to discuss the matter with them while awaiting for the arrival of the PAF, and if she could convince them of the citizenship, their people... or more exactly, all the humans among them, would be somewhat safe by being citizens of the Confederation. She pondered for a couple of minutes on how to reply back, for any answer would bring consequences to either gain or lose their trust. It was a tricky thing, specially when there was a week during which they could be wiped by the Mekantans.

Seems like a conversational game. And for me to lose is a lose-lose situation. Damn Einstein! If they die it'll be all his fault! But otherwise we would die.

Words had to be measured, and thus in her long wait, Annika allowed for all around her to vanish, giving place to a new scenery. Everything around her was completely away from her current location, and now she stood next to the ruins of the city of Madrid, which has been ravaged during the Fourth World War, next to her, masses desperate refugees... armed to the teeth, were seeking for shelter. The Global State, the fascists and enemies of freedom they have fought against for thousands of years. At such moment, it could be said that their situation was a grim as that of those displaced by the Mekantans, for they were looking for a place free from the tyranny of man against man, of the annihilation of the very free will done in the name of the State. Once they have been displaced... from their very home world, devoid of liberty, and now they no longer saw it as their home, but as the home of few who survived, buried beneath the seas in cryonic graves, and of those whose bodies were frozen before their deaths thousands of years ago, to one day be revived by future technologies. By leaving the pale blue dot, they have changed from displaced ones to a civilization of its own. It was perhaps their duty to give others the same chance.

The scene was very inspiring for Annika, and she realized what had to be done. Looking at the past, she found the answer to gain their trust, to prove to the Admiral Michael Sain that they were the real deal. And not only an answer in words, but in information was sent. Part of their history, of their struggle would now be sent. It could be dangerous to give away such information, but the sections which described their tragic past with non-human sentients were conveniently erased from what was going to be transmitted. Perhaps now they would understand, that just like living in an universe where what Solarians considered fringe science worked, there was a price to pay for living in a relativistic universe.

"I understand your worries Michael Sain, and I see that you have witnessed many horrors done by a contradiction over the expected outcomes of evolution. But there is a safe place... and it is not in the galaxy you currently reside, neither in any other galaxy you may know. There is an infinity of parallel universes, a multiverse over there, and in one of many universes, the laws of science make any form of intra-universe faster-than-light travel impossible, just like the aspects that Mekantans need for their technologies and for their very bodies to work would not exist, making of them nothing but dead husks. We live in such universe. And yet, it has other enemies rather than Mekantans. There, we have seen our planet devastated by the despair and nuclear fire of decadent nations warring for the last drops of petroleum. There, we have seen the the shadow of fascism and tyranny to cover nearly the entire world but our original civilization. There, we have fought for thousands of years against mankind's greatest enemy: itself. There we have toppled a fascist totalitarian state, the last government of human history. There, our forefathers fought to the end for their and our freedom. And from their ideals the Confederation was born. It is our universe, our home, and the home of all those who seek true freedom. I am transmitting you data regarding much of our past and recent past history, to demonstrate you how far we have gone to stand for freedom."

And far indeed. The massive amount of data about the Third World War, the Fourth World War, the Eternal War and the achievements and struggles of Solar Communes since the times it was known as the Confederacy of Third Spanish States that was sent to them would make any historian busy for months discussing and analyzing it. Annika gave them nearly everything about her people, about them, in the hopes that by clearly explaining how that the lack of FTL led them to an interstellar war that lasted thousands of years would prove them that they indeed offered a safe haven, while that their struggle could prove the veracity of their intentions.

If it did not convince them alright, time was still plentiful for now. But for them to accept the citizenship offer was the only way to ensure their safety for the next seven days before the arrival of the PAF.

OOC: Taggage. This looks like it could be interesting...

Bump so it's on the first six pages. :p

"... We might actually survive this..."

Admiral Sain could hardly believe the words that escaped his lips, but he actually believed them.

They were certainly confident. these outsiders who responded. He doubted any had truly crossed swords with the Mekantans, but confidence was just what the Displaced needed.

"ETA on Transport arrival?"

One of the officers spoke up, saluting. "Ten minutes, give or take, sir. Our sensors are glitching up again."

"Good, make sure we have enough room in the main hang-"

A sharp intake of breath from T'na stopped him mid-sentence. He knew that gasp. He wished he didn't.

Tehn Zeck immediately glanced at his Padawan before staring out at the void. "... You sense it too..."

"Yes, master," the Vulcan responded, "... They're not Mekantan... Malevolent like them, but they seem different..."

Admiral Sain didn't even have to ask. The Jedi were the Displaced's early warning system. Before sensors could even begin registering the jump, they seemed to know. He turned away from the large windows, sighing before beginning to bark orders. "All hands, prepare for potential hostiles! Inform the Beaten Star and Nexus! Scramble all alert fighters and establish a defensive screen around those civilians! Relay the warning to our guest-"

"Incoming gates!!"

For Michael Sain, T'na, Tehn Zeck, and everyone else on the Irreparable Spirit, the day was about to get a lot worse.

Multiple contacts. Long range.
Idenfity.
Unable. Interference thick. Data suggesting damaged vessels.
Requirement: More information. Suggestion: Dispatch.
Confirmed.
Dispatching: Cain, Cain, Cain, Cain, Lilith, Lilith, Demon.
Confirmed.


The six relatively small subspace gates of the cruisers were the first to form, the smaller ships already in a defensive formation around the absent destroyer.

When the Demon tore out of subspace, fighters and bombers were already streaming out of its cavernous hanger bays, making their way toward everything in system. The larger naval vessels stayed out of the way.


Their goal was to see who these people were. Destroying them all could come later...


(OOC: Okay, who needs a briefing on the Shivans? I think I might have made a factbook a while back...)

-OOC-
Okay, thread's died, I suppose.

OOC: I don't know, I could always sail on in, if nothing else. An Overlord loaded down with a small colony, see what develops.

Somewhere near the Charzakian Empire

A new Super Dreadnaught the Eye of the Empire and her fleet of 15 Dreadnaughts, 30 cruisers, 40 corvettes waited. They drifted over a planet that had now become part of the Empire. The officers on the bridge ecstatic. The single Sith with them stood next to the Admiral Ken Strot.

"I sense Jedi. Quick jump to....!" as the Sith said the coordinates.
"Why should I come on another silly adventure of yours Sith?"
"Because destroying the Jedi is my goal."
"Very well. All ships jump."

System of the Displaced

The fleet exited hyperspace with weapons powered up.
"Attention, attention. This is Admiral Ken Strot of the Charzakian Jedi Hunting Fleet. Surrender your Jedi and you will be spared. If not then you will all die."

(OOC: Not dead, too bad that what I have lies in an universe with permanent FTLi, but I might bring something else in the meantime, if it would help to "resurrect" this thread.

I might bring, if no objections are raised, the Polish (http://www.nationstates.net/page=display_nation/nation=Polish%20Worlds) Space Navy (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5fq7jUua40s)! )

ooc: come on people where is the fighting?

Apologies. I've been without power or internet for a few days due to a storm.

Post incoming.

Apologies as well... I forgot there is no continuum of time in Chaos, so no matter how bizarre it'll sound this Plot Device(TM), let's say they appeared right there while in Solarian universe, they were still moving towards the chaos gate. Post coming soon(Coming Soon and Duke Nukem Forever are trademarks of 3D Realms)

"Sir, we have a problem. A big problem." Liv said. "Shivans. And Sith, but I'm much more worried about the Shivans."

Vagner's hands flew up to rub his forehead. "I knew it was too much to ask for - that we'd have a relatively peaceful, civil meeting. Do the Shivans know we're here?"

"Probably. There's a lot of interference from the refugee fleet, but historically, the Shivs haven't had trouble finding people, even in the middle of freakishly thick nebulae. Assume so. It looks like a scouting force; just a single Demon class destroyer and two triads of frigates. Four Cain and two Lillith class. They've launched strikecraft, which are vectoring towards the fleet. No torpedo launches, and the Shivans are keeping their capital ships back. Like I said, we're talking a recee force."

"Thank you, Liv. And these Sith?"

"I don't know too much about them. They aren't from the Empire. IFF tags as from a government called "Charzak.""

"Never heard of them. Threat level?"

"Unknown. They brought a considerably larger fleet than the Shivans, though. We've got one coreship, a bunch of heavy capships, and some smaller ones in a picket screen. I can't tell much more about them without switching to active sensors. Or watching them fight."

"Which they might take as a hostile gesture, and which would alert the Shivans to our presence. Not good. Has there been any commo traffic?" Vagner asked.

"Aye; the Sith are demanding that the refugee fleet hand over any Jedi amongst them, otherwise there will likely be violence. None from the Shivans besides the subspace comms they use to coordinate amongst themselves. But that's rather par course for them."

"See, this is why Facehuggerians don't do any kind of diplomacy except gunship diplomacy." Vagner sighed. "Alright, the Shivans are going to show up in force once they find out there are humans amongst that fleet, and the Communes expedition is going to take another week to arrive. While the refugees might be able to defend themselves, there are too many unknowns here. I'd feel a lot better if we had a big stick or four backing us up. Summon the fleet." Vagner said.

"Affirmative. Imperial Battlenet connection established. Pre-arranged go code sent and acknowledged. Fleet pod Gladius is recalling non-FTL assets and preparing to displace. ETA, six minutes." Liv replied.

"It'd be nice if they could hurry it up, but this'll have to do. We're sitting ducks here. Continue towards the Admiral's flagship at best speed. Direct a tight-beam laser transmission ahead of us."

"Aye, sir. What do you want to say?"

"Say this:"

Admiral Sain, this is Diplomat-Prime Vagner from Olive Branch.
We are continuing towards your flagship at maximum acceleration.
As you've no doubt detected, there is a Shivan scouting party inbound.
If you can hold them off - and stall the Sith - for six minutes, a detachment of the Facehuggerian Navy will be on-station to assist you.
I am sending all our information on the Shivans now; be warned that it is most likely out of date.
We have not encountered the Shivans in a long time.
Vagner out.

"Done sir."

"Let's just hope this Admiral Sain is a good bluffer."

Powerlerness, few things were as horrible for a Solarian as the sensation of powerlessness, to witness death, destruction and misery and be unable to do anything to stop it. Powerlessness was the exact reason why, like a patient automaton, Annika simply stood next to the airlock, immobile, in wait for the shuttle that would take her to the PAS Bosch, and in fear of what could happen during the next days. There was nothing personal, no tragedy, no family member she ever lost, in fact, she never had a family in the first place, as someone raised, or more exactly, engineered by the community rather than the result of a couple breeding. It was something uncommon for most, a sort of feeling that the entire human race was like a huge brotherhood, and that all of them were of the same family. It was not a very definite, specific love, but something that went beyond individuals. It is said that the love Solarians have for humanity is larger than the hatred they have for aliens, and perhaps, thus, for those who faced reality, few things were as depressing as to await a week, powerless, witnessing the uncertain fate of a people they could not save at such time.

Annika never felt hunger, thirst or pain, and yet somehow, she suffered in a way beyond the suffering that was linked to flesh. It was silent, unreachable, and no matter how hard it was tried, not even her could explain it. Yet, she was not impatient, and simply remained perfectly still, awaiting, it was not emotional or physical, it was perhaps a suffering in the soul, in the realm of ideals. No angst, no tears, nothing, even when, to worse it all, Annika realized how not even a day has passed, and it already came. The the despair of the distress calls froze her very soul when she realized it was too late. All that could be concluded was that the Mekantans were coming as an ethereal nonexistant voice reached her ears.

Yet, suddenly Chaos became stronger than any will for the link to be maintained, and thus, the distress calls were the last transmissions she heard before everything became undefined and unclear. The Net now became nothing more than the voice of Khorne in the howling screams of his servants, with all contact to the multiverse lost. She did not have to speak it, and just as it happened, the systems were attempting to restablish a link, to no avail. The situation now has changed drastically, and the suffering augmented as Annika realized how she stood to make a significant decision: to either forfeit the entire operation, or carry it on the blind. If she tried to convince the people to carry on, Annika could end leading many to risk their lives in vain, to save those who were already lost, but otherwise, her conscience could have the burden of knowing that she refused aid to oppressed men. Seven days without having no idea of how the battle would proceed was indeed a difficult situation.

Seven days later

A quite darkness was suddenly finished, as red eyes were no longer closed, incited by the loud voice of a man, who said:

"Wake up Annika! The shuttle is ready!"

To sleep standing was very rare for a Solarian, but somehow she ended doing it. Annika observed the man, with his face covered by an armored exoskeleton, and likely observing all his surroundings through the suit rather than through his eyes, as he, wielding a PPK-68 Gauss Grenade-rifle, instructed her to move on. Thus Annika did, and in a extremely brief walk between corridors, reached a circular catwalk, with a small gorge below, where the walls were filled with mostly empty cryonics chambers. It was her ticket to the uncertain battle, and she was ready. This time, it was better to sleep in the frost than to stay awake. And thus she laid down over the grave-like structure, and tried to relax. Sooner than expected, her consciousness faded away, and thus her cryo-pod was taken to the massive halls of the PAS Bosch, where she would stay until their arrival.

The torchships soon crossed the border between reality and pure chaos, and thus the long journey began, when, if and whether it would lead them to where they wished to or not were still uncertain facts. The only certainty is that for the first time, all contact from and to the Solarian universe has been lost for a whole week. Maybe the very unknown enemy they were to face weren't even the Mekantans, as they were expecting.

(OOC: Just a prelude for the real thing. As for when it'll happen, certainly not in the starts of the battle, but I had a quite interesting idea to make things more challenging for the Solarians.)

(OOC: My apologies, at present I'm on vacation. I won't be able to put a proper post up for a while.)

We repeat surrender the Jedi or face death.

"Begin charging the super-laser and get a target lock on their lead ship."
"Aye sir."
The Admiral turned to the Sith.
"Shall we begin?"
"Yes let's."

bump

-OOC-
Well, Charzak, after seeing how you continually failed to understand the concept of godmoding and the very related concept of "shit you should not do in general" I must admit I'm somewhat reluctant to acknowledge your presence in the thread. But, since I only have your posts here and there as reference, I'm willing to entertain the possibility that you aren't entirely irredeemable. Therefore, I won't throw you out... yet. I'll just warn you that I'm far less patient than Balrogga, and being both thread starter and defender, I'm well within my rights to tell you to GTFO if you start godmoding it up.

But, that's just a necessary warning. Here's hoping you remain a decent RPer and don't need to be booted. However, I should point out that since you are in the system, the Shivans are heading in your direction too...


General note: I'll be calling damages for the Shivans on this account most of the time, because I access my Shivan Worldfleet account through SeaMonkey, and SeaMonkey sucks.


-IC-

As the Shivans met the Displaced's defensive line, turbolaser bolts, phaser beams, and mega particle beams were the harried survivors' immediate response. Compared to the horrors of a Mekantan Darkship, even sharp, demonic ships with a red and black color scheme seemed like nothing more than a thin parody. Indeed, he fact that these Shivans came so close to the Mekantan design aesthetic only motivated the Displaced to shoot better.

While most of the Displaced's X-Wings and TIE Fighters engaged the Shivans approaching, the two Star Destroyers and the Battlestar, as well as those space combat not intercepting Shivans, fired everything they had to keep the Shivans at bay.

As the Irreparable Spirit shifted to give more of its guns a proper line of sight at the Shivans, the two Jedi on the bridge gasped in unison. Admiral Sain didn't get the chance to ask what was wrong before two Nephilim bombers streaked through the Star Destroyer's defensive fire, delivering a massive payload at the warship.

The bridge rumbled and shook as the bombs impacted with the main hull. In the chaos, the first transmission from the Eye of the Empire was missed. Under the intense aura of malevolence the Jedi sensed from the Shivans, the Sith aboard the distant ship could barely be felt. Thus, when the Facehuggerian message arrived, and a shaking, frightened lieutenant relayed it, Admiral Sain was confused... And given the attack, very, very irritable.

"What... What the hell is this about Sith!? Not enough we have these Mekantan-wannabes, but now a Dark Jedi? Oh, this is a fucking joke..."

It was then, as an X-wing chased a Shivan Dragon across the bow of the Irreparable Spirit that the second Sith transmission arrived. Admiral Sain just shook his head, growling. When news of a high energy reaction at the bow of the Sith ship, likely a main gun charging, arrived, he threw up his hands in disbelief.

"Oh... Those Sith! Don't these idiots see we're under attack!? Goddamn, this asshole has the patience of a three year old, and I'd be willing to be the intelligence of one too!"

Tehn Zeck just chuckled, the one bit of mirth that could be sensed on the entire ship. "Sith never were known for being the brightest bunch." The old Jedi sighed. "I'll-"

"Don't even." Michael looked at his old friend, shaking his head. "You're a survivor of Northwinds first. A Jedi second." He turned, growling. "Open communications with this tiny-penised Sith jackass!"

"Sir!"

"Transmit the following..."


Eye of the Empire,
This is Admiral Michael Sain. We'd be more than happy to send our Jedi over there, but in case your sensors are seriously malfunctioning, we seem to be under attack. We can't very well launch shuttles while we have dogfights going on less than six feet from my face, so if you'd be patient a moment or, the Force forbid actually help deal with these aliens, we'd be more than happy to send you the Jedi on board this ship.

T'na just looked at the Admiral, wincing as a Shivan laser blast impacted against the bridge shields. "... I'm not sure that was a wise decision, Admiral."

"We've survived the Mekantans, Padawan. To a Darkship, that fleet of theirs would be an appetizer. I'm not about to grovel to some uppity twit with a fleet after having my home shot out from under me by a REAL threat!"

The Admiral read the report from the Jedi fleet. He turned to the Sith.
"We will aid them. When the battle is over you will have the Jedi."
"Very well."

Jedi fleet as long as you hand over the Jedi we will aid you. After this battle send all Jedi to us for immediate execution. Charzakian Fleet out.

The Eye of the Empire began firing on the Shivan lead ship while launching all squadrens of fighters and bombers. All other ships did the same and opened fire on the Shivans. Suddenly a bright green blast erupted from the Eye and raced toward a Shivan ship. The fighters raced toward the Jedi fleet to aid them in destroying enemy fighters. While some held back to defend their own fleet. Bombers were on approach to attack a Shivan frigate.

Contact confirmed.
Military potential high.
Explain.
High energy reactions. Coordinated fleet activities.
Confirmed.
Scout group insufficient.
Confirmed.
Dispatching: Cain 38, Lilith 6, Demon 14
Insufficient.
Confirmed.
Dispatching: Cain 44, Lilith 13, Demon 20
Confirmed

As Eye of the Empire's main gun fired, the Demon shifted, the Superlaser blast managing to catch its side, but failing to strike it dead center. Nevertheless, the blow stripped away a large band of the Destroyer's armor on its starboard side and disabled several of its batteries.

The Cruisers faired better. They took several hits when the Charzakians first attacked but quickly began taking evasive maneuvers. The approaching bombers heading toward one of the Liliths was a concern, but the Shivans seemed amused as the Lilith quickly jumped into subspace, emerging on the other side of the Charzakian fleet.

When seventy-three subspace gates flashed into being and a full Shivan fleet poured into realspace, the Shivans went on the full offensive. Fighters and bombers poured out of the demons, while every battery they had turned toward the Charzakians and the three Displaced warships, ignoring the others for now. A few seconds after arriving, Fourty-two heavy, thirty-six medium, and fourty-eight light anti-capital ship beam cannons fired, sending bright crimson lances at the Displaced and Charzakians.

The Shivans meant business now.

As their beam cannons cooled, the Shivan capital ships began slowly advancing, raining laser, shell, and missile upon their targets with cold, alien precision. The Demons and Liliths began launching heavy torpedoes at the Charzakians, intent on putting the hurt on their picket.


It had been a while since the Shivans had a good fight. They wanted this one to be interesting...

The Charzakian Fleet was in trouble. Howeve the Sith onboard began using Force Shield to protect the ships from some of the beams heading towards them. Yet the fleet took casualties. Several corvettes went down in hulks and 3 cruisers took heavy damage. The fleet poured it on though.The bombers, after their target disappeared, began targeting a capital ship. Fighters surrounded the Displaced's ships as well as their own fighting off the enemy piolits.
The Eye began charing up her super-laser again while pouring laser and ion fire into the cruiser that had flanked them.

"Incomming jump signatures!"

"Reading twenty- fifty, seventy two portals!"

"High mass signature! Numerous motherships approaching!"

"Second, third, and eighth space superiority wings completely wiped out! Battlestar Nexus reporting multiple bomb strikes!"

"Civillian medical ship Heffelia listing! Damage critical!"

"Shivan capital ships firi-"

The last message was cut off as a medium beam slammed into the Irreparable Spirit's bow, ripping the Star Destroyer's "nose" clean off. The shock from the blast sent everyone on the bridge, save Tehn Zeck, to the floor. T'na shot a glance at her master as she got up, wondering how he did it. Admiral Sain, however, was much more worried about the battle.

"Status!"

"The Shivans have directed most of their fire toward the Sith battlegroup, but Battlestar Nexus appears to have taken a direct hit to the engines. It's disabled, sir."

"Damn... Open broadcast channel!"

"Sir?"

"NOW."


It was unthinkable to broadcast again, but it was the only way not to give away the rest of the fleet's position and still get a message to them.

Code 1179, this is Admiral Michael Sain of Northwinds. Norsemace, do you read me? I repeat, Code 1179! I don't know how much longer we can hold-

Another explosion rocked the bridge as a Shivan fighter crashed into the bridge tower, a lieutenant looking up worriedly. "Sir! Long-range communication are down!"

"Who shot that fighter down!?" Michael ran to the view port, looking around.

"N... no one sir... It... just crashed..."

Tehn Zeck shook his head. "Kamikaze fighters... They don't want us calling for help..."

Michael growled... "... Just like the damn Mekantans..."

After seeing the fighters ram into the Displaced's comm units the Admiral sent this message.

Jedi Fleet send us the comm code for your full fleet. we will call them in for you. I repeat we have operable long range comms sned us the comm code.

Howeve the Sith onboard began using the force to dissipate some of the beams heading towards them.

-OOC-
LOL WUT?

Not a huge offense, because you're actually doing quite good (Bal and Telros must be teaching you well) but... what?

All three of the people I talked to about that part agreed that it was bullshit. Now, I'm not going to ask you to change it. I just figured a bit of a warning would help you learn and develop into a good RPer. ^_^

Other tips would be to put more work into posts. You'd be surprised how many transgressions people will let you get away with when you put enough effort into writing. ^_^


I'll make an IC post once more people respond ICly.

ooc: is that better? it is a true force power.

OOC:

If you are taling about Force Absorbtion it is not used on something that vast. Darth Vader used it to absorb Han Solo's blaster fire on Bespin. He used the energy he absorbed to grab the blaster from Solo's hands. There is a big difference going from a hand weapon to capital ship fire.

"Incomming jump signatures!"

"Reading twenty- fifty, seventy two portals!"

"High mass signature! Numerous motherships approaching!"

"Second, third, and eighth space superiority wings completely wiped out! Battlestar Nexus reporting multiple bomb strikes!"

"Civillian medical ship Heffelia listing! Damage critical!"

"Shivan capital ships firi-"

The last message was cut off as a medium beam slammed into the Irreparable Spirit's bow, ripping the Star Destroyer's "nose" clean off. The shock from the blast sent everyone on the bridge, save Tehn Zeck, to the floor. T'na shot a glance at her master as she got up, wondering how he did it. Admiral Sain, however, was much more worried about the battle.

"Status!"

"The Shivans have directed most of their fire toward the Sith battlegroup, but Battlestar Nexus appears to have taken a direct hit to the engines. It's disabled, sir."

"Damn... Open broadcast channel!"

"Sir?"

"NOW."


It was unthinkable to broadcast again, but it was the only way not to give away the rest of the fleet's position and still get a message to them.



Another explosion rocked the bridge as a Shivan fighter crashed into the bridge tower, a lieutenant looking up worriedly. "Sir! Long-range communication are down!"

"Who shot that fighter down!?" Michael ran to the view port, looking around.

"N... no one sir... It... just crashed..."

Tehn Zeck shook his head. "Kamikaze fighters... They don't want us calling for help..."

Michael growled... "... Just like the damn Mekantans..."

"Sir... Did you see all that?"
"All of those ships, and all? Yeah."
"I think we're on something sir. Whatever it was, it was pretty good."
"Damn right. Too bad I left my stash back in the 'gym bag'."
"Very clever sir."
"Thanks. So, uh, what about the others?"
"They must have brought their own. All shields, battery power, ammunition, not a single shot or volt missing."
"So who the hell do we fire at sir?"
"Uh, open fire on uh... Whoever the hell is firing on the ones that called for our help!"
"Christ sir, we could be starting an intergalactic war!"
"Oh, right... Wait! Check the radio records, maybe we have something!"
The aide quickly played over the radio records (What few they had) of the engagement that was playing out right before them. "Open fire on the...Uh..."
"Shivans, sir."
"Shivans!"

Suddenly, after minutes upon minutes of inactivity, The Raven lit itself up with Laser fire, lead being pumped out at incredible rates by the automated railguns. "Focus firepower on those cruisers! Take out the larger guns first!"

"Admiral?"
"Yes Captain?"
"Battle report says that we have lost 7 covettes, 2 cruisers, and heavy damage inflicted on three more."
"What about our fighters?"
"Sir, Red squadren has lost Red 5 and Red 12. Gold squadren at full strength. Rouge at full strength. Green only Green Leader and Green 4 remain. Blue wiped out. Ganner squadren lost Ganner Leader and Ganner 23-57"
"We lost a whole squadren! 100 fighters gone! What happened to Green squadren?"
"Sir Blue was caught in one of the anti-capital ship blasts that the enemy fired. Green was caught in the explosion of the engines of the Battlestar."
"Is the superlaser charged?"
"Yes sir."
"Fire at the lead ship again. Make them pay."
"Yes sir."

Another streak of green erupted from the Eye heading straight for the Shivan flagship.

"Hey Sith!"
"Yes, Admiral?"
"Make yourself useful and do that battle meditation thing."
"As you wish Admiral."

bump

Location: ISV Vindicator, 102.3 lightyears from refugee fleet.

His shape wasn't particularly impressive – not the sort of avatar you'd expect for an ancient warship like Vindicator. A young man, mantled in black, with deep circles under his eyes, was far from popular image of a destroyer of worlds.

But then, he'd changed.

He knelt on a simple crimson pad, deep within the ship's – his chapel. To his sides burned two incense candles – the kind the Freemanic priests used in the daily prayers to their messiah. In front of him lay his original victory saber, its silvered form engraved with a thousand-thousand tiny pinpricks; each representing a single victory. He remembered but a handful of them. Much of his memory had been wiped during that cataclysmic final battle. All that remained were flashes, scenes that disturbed him on a fundamental level.

It was the screams, really. The battles didn't bother him – he was a warship. They'd always given him a sense of exhilaration, a sense that he was truly alive. He supposed it was what humans felt when connecting with their soul mates. The clear bliss that comes with a being knowing its purpose and acting upon it.

No, it was the aftermath that so haunted him.

He felt something touch his shoulder, feathery-light and hesitant, before withdrawing.

“Gladius.” He said, not bothering to look up.

“Vindi, I'm worried about you. The general's worried about you. Hell, even Tempie's worried, in his roidrage-y way. So what's the problem? Still thinking about the battle?” Gladi's voice was as soft as her touch. She was one of the only beings alive that had even an inkling of how he felt. Ho – machines feeling? And there were men who said machines would never feel. He almost wished they were right.

“Honestly? No.” He shrugged. “I keep thinking back to this other battle, long ago. You wouldn't remember it – it was before your time.”

“Which one? In case you didn't realize it, there are a lot of battles “before my time.”” She replied, putting her dainty hands on her hips.

“I don't even remember.” He replied. “I remember they tossed their nukes and fusion-bombs at me in volleys. I just let them hit, to show them how impotent they were against the Imperium. When I opened fire, it was like stepping on roaches or crowbarring headcrabs. I eventually had to resort to my point defense batteries, to keep from wiping them out too quickly. The Emperor wanted them as an object lesson. He wanted to send a message. But I don't even remember what.”

“An easy fight doesn't sound too bad. What got to you?” Gladi asked.

“The screaming. The whole planet was begging me to spare them. Soldiers in the ships I only crippled begged for their mates and children. Even as their air ran out, they begged. They blared “unconditional surrender!” until their voices went hoarse.”

“What did you do?” She asked.

“I got creative.” He replied, looking at her. “I played a game of connect-the-dots with their cities and a bombardment maser. Then I blew up the planet to be thorough. Sometimes, I can still imagine my hull itching from their comms signals.”

“Don't go emo on me now, Vindi!” She took a sharp breath. “That's in the past. You're a different person. We're different people. Frag, if we weren't, we'd be at each others' throats right now. And you know I'd be kicking your ass.”

He smiled, running a hand across her cheek. “Perhaps.”

“All out sublights are aboard and locked. It's time to go.” He added.

“Vindi,” She pulled away slightly. “The humans think second chances are precious... We've both been given a marvelous gift. We shouldn't waste it.”

***

Sound does not travel in space. It lacks a medium, something to vibrate against and through on its way to a human's eardrum.

If it didn't, an observer would have heard a distant sound, vaguely like a thousand crows screaming for fresh sweet meat. A heartbeat of total silence would pass – then two. Then, four vessels would appear, floating in perfect formation a light minute from the refugee fleet and the battle raging amongst them. Well within the effective range for c-frac missiles and torpedoes owing to their internal guidance, to say nothing of their transluminal cousins.

The Facehuggerians loved their missiles.

In fact, the Facehuggerians loved all guns equally. Their ships reflected this love. From the twenty-five kilometer Trinity-class hull of Vindicator, to the forty-five klick Tempest, the most prominent way to describe any Facehuggerian military warship would be “armed to the teeth. And the gills. And the balls. In fact, their guns probably shoot guns.”

Of course, they paid the price in expendability – Facehuggerian warships were immensely powerful, but they, and especially their crews, were irreplaceable. The loss of a single fleet pod, of which only three existed with another handful in construction, would be a terrifying blow.

Fortunately, Star-General Shepherd had... options.

“Fleet, this is the General.” Her voice was clear, but superflous; her orders had already been relayed through the Facehugger Warnet at the speed of thought. It was more for tradition. The captains of old barked their orders and had grim-faced men snap to attention, so why couldn't she? “Deploy parasite cruisers and support the Refugees. Bring us closer, and try to put us between them and the Shivan capital ships.”

She could have displaced her pod between the fleet in an instant. However, she wanted to hold her trump cards, things like tactical-FTL and blink shields, in reserve. After all, only a fool shows all his tricks to foes and potential foes.

Her four ships accelerated slowly, belying their true capabilities. Rather than the graceful and hideously out of place dance of death that Facehuggerian warships usually performed, they moved sluggishly, as one would expect leviathans of their mass to move.

The smaller parasite cruisers, sleek half-kilometer daggers, buzzed around the larger ships like bees.

Deep within the fleet pod's hulls, thousands of torpedoes were being spot-fabricated; their construction fed by the monstrous creation engines that powered modern Facehuggeria.

An unremarkable first volley, but hopefully enough to get the Shivans' attention towards the greatest threat. Ideally, it would perhaps even be enough to drive them off.

Though, privately, she held little hope of that. Shivans were tenacious.

Still, she would do her duty.

“Attention Refugee fleet. This is Fleet Pod Gladius of the Facehuggerian Imperium. We have arrived to assist you.”


OOC:

Basically, I've got three heavy capital ships (Vindicator, a Trinity class dreadnought with a good mix of weapons, Gladius, a Claymore class dreadnought with weapons optimized for taking out other large capital ships; she finds it hard to take down corvettes and such, and Tempest, a Gehenna class superdreadnought that skimps on long range weapons in favor of extremely large amounts of short ranged weaponry and extra defenses. It can fight at any range, but most of its weapons are STL energy zappers of one sort or another, so long range fire only works if the enemy obligingly stays in one spot. Long range in this case being “more than one light second;” for guided weapons, it's more like several light minutes.

I've also got one special purpose capital ship, the Mercury, which is a 'gateship'; allowing me to set up semi-stationary FTL gates even in areas of FTLi, (also makes for a convenient shield for refugees). This ship has almost no anti-capital armament, but does have a fair bit of point defense. It's a support ship, not a warship though.

Then there's around ~20 or so Parasite Cruisers, semi-intelligent drone craft which pack a punch since they're mostly gun and reactor with no crew, but are completely expendable.

Essentially, the three dreadnoughts represent a third of my total fleet at this point, and for a ten billion+ nation, that's a lot of concentrated killing. :)

Actions in short: Basically, the CF fleet is advancing relatively slowly (because everyone expects xbox huge capital ships to be slow) and preparing to fire torpedoes. I'd have fired them in the entry post, but that's bad form.

Besides the cruisers, no strike craft (fighters, bombers, etc) of any sort have launched, but the capships are very clearly locking onto the Shivans with targeting sensors.

They are also spamming out heavy ECM interference designed to obstruct enemy targeting sensors, as per standard procedure. The closer you get to the CF fleet, the more powerful the jamming gets, and the harder it is to target them. They haven't raised their FTLi barriers yet, and they haven't actually started shooting anything yet - just painting Shivan capships for torpedo strikes.

bump

Admiral Sain smirked when the Facehuggerians showed up.

What happened next caused his eyes to light up and a triumphant laugh to issue.

"Incomming hyperspace signatures! Friendly configuration!"

"IFF confirmed! Indomitable, Haven, High Zeal! It's the core escort!"

"Nineteen kilometer signature! It's-"

The entire bridge was silent as the space around them exploded into light. Four Displaced vessels, some of the best maintained and upgraded in the fleet, floated serenely in a protective formation around the more damaged ships of the Displaced fleet. A single transmission boomed over the Displaced's internal communications, causing the bridge of the Irreparable Spiritto cheer.


This is Commodore Belray. Code 1179 acknowlaged. Norsemace is on station.


On the Norsemace's bridge, standing where Admiral Sain normally would, Commodore Josef Belray, Michael Sain's second in command of sorts, looked over the battlefield. His cold brown eyes glanced over tactical information, a killer rage evident. The dark circles under his eyes, the wrinkles on his face, and his lack of hair gave him a deep, grim look that his anger only enhanced.

These aliens attacked the survivors of the Mekantan attacks. His people.
These Sith threatened the Jedi. His allies.
Nobody, he had long ago decided, would threaten his people and allies with impunity.

"... Prepare It."

The entire bridge was taken off guard for barely a second before instructions and reports began flying.

"All guard fighters! Break pursuit and return to fleet!"

"All ships, relay instructions to clear forward firing arc!"

"Helm! Reposition twenty-nine degrees port, six degrees dorsal!"

"Firing arc clear in twenty... nineteen..."

"PT cartridge set! Raising the weapon!"

"All hands, standby!"

At the distant bow of the Norsemace, Commodore Belray could see a relatively small hatch open toward the tip of the vessel, and one of the many new technologies the Displaced now possessed arise in its most applied and deadly form.

"Weapon in position! Firing solution for the alien fleet attained!"

"Commodore, your orders?"

Josef just smiled. "Death to all who dare threaten my people..." He swung his arm out, pointing menacingly at the Shivans. "Fire the Phase Transfer Cannon!"

The Death Star that Northwinds had built years prior to the Mekantan attack, that had proven useless in so much as slowing down the warship that attacked them, was nothing compared to their new weapon.

The space in front of the Norsemace was immediately ablaze with sapphire light. The bright blue lance fired by the weapon expanded with explosive ferocity, the leading edge rapidly growing broad enough to engulf a fleet.


And that's just what it did, bathing three quarters of the Shivan fleet in a nightmarish sea of blue.

The moment the Facehuggerians showed up in-system, the Shivans were thrown into disarray.

Catching Facehuggerian missiles bow-first made them reconsider their attack in the system. As destroyers and cruisers exploded, a general retreat order was issued over subspace communications.

Fighters began scrambling back to the destroyers that launched them, cruisers started withdrawing, and destroyers dropped their assault and turned to start retreating.

Communications among the ships stopped. Only one thing was mentioned: running.

The Phase Transfer Cannon ended any hope of cutting their loses. The moment the blue wave touched their ships, warship armor began exploding in sudden conversions directly to energy. The wave lasted only seconds, but that's all it took for what was three quarters of the armada to simply vanish in a burst of energy.

The rest began vanishing into subspace portals. In less than a minute, the Shivan fleet had been routed.

Commodore Belray turned and nodded as Admiral Sain beamed aboard the Norsemace, sighing.

"... The aliens are withdrawing. Those Facehuggerians have impressive weapons, eh? Now, what of the Sith?"

Admiral Sain just grinned. "Open communications!"


To the Sith battle fleet.
As you can see, we have, with the addition of the Facehuggerian forces and our own main arsenal, quite a few weapons over here.

We had a deal, regarding the Jedi, did we not?

I am altering the deal. Pray I don't alter it further.


"They're not going to be happy."

"Let 'em not be happy."



-OOC-

I said multiple tech bases. Xenosaga is a tech base.

I'd like to steer things back toward diplomacy and meetings. Charzak, we kind of have you outgunned now. Maybe mister Sith would like some biscuits instead of Jedi? Sith do tend to be chaotic evil rather than chaotic stupid, after all...

Massive energy signatures detected seventeen Hive Centers away. Divert Hive Fleet Kraken to investigate.

The command of The Overmind was a simple one, not to be ignored.

Dangaloth sighed, he had hoped to go eat a world rich in Biomass. Perhaps this encounter would prove interesting.

So it was that The Warp ripped itself open minutes later. The Swarm had heard of a nation called Chronosia, and knew that many would espect them to come out, but when a single Hive ship emerged leaving the rest in The Warp, he knew confusion would arise.

But the swarm was not as menacing as many thought them to be. Infact, with the influence of Irene, they could be quite pleasant at times.

"I pardon the interruption, but we've detected large movements of energy, and it called to us like a beacon, so we had to come investigate. Pray tell, what is happening here? We feel the remanents of Nurgle's glorification. Was someone destroyed? for his glory I hope so, I would find that most satisfying. But Tzeentch stirs his hand within my heart and leads me to inquire why so many of you are in one place. Is there a party going on? Can we come? We can be quite the party animals you know. Infact we tend to leave the worlds we visit quite exhausted.

I'm sorry, I'm so rude, I forgot to introduce myself. I am Dangaloth, Cerebrate of The Eternal Swarm, and leader of many of it's innumerable broods, and it was The Overmind itself that directed me to come."

OOC: Entered with Neo's permission via TG.

"Oh my lord you are not going to like this"
"What Admiral?"
"They refuse to give up the Jedi"
"Give me the comm."

*evil chuckle*
Greetings Jedi. I am Darth Sarodad of the Empire of Charzak. As you may know I am a Sith and I would like to let you know that no matter where you go I will find you. As of now a state of war exists between our nations. Surrender the Jedi or you will be destroyed. Surrender them at the planet known as Daraka. We await your answer.

Then the Charzakian fleet jumped to the planet of Daraka to await the Jedi and destroy them.

Location: Fleet Pod Gladius – 1 light minute away from the Refugee fleet.

The directive burnt its way through the fleet's private network, bringing with it a near orgasmic release amongst the minds in control of the mighty warships. Those three words sweeter than the most delectable wines. Fire at will. They were all warships. It was, at their hearts and personalities to make war. Their purpose in life.

Of course, the range was still long. They couldn't truly fire at their will, for the Shivan targets would move. Slower than light weapons simply wouldn't work when it would take them precious minutes to arrive – especially since friendly forces or innocent refugees would be caught in the crossfire.

Self-guided torpedoes were clearly the way to go.

A quantum moment passed. Then, the system was lit by three thousand tiny suns – the cool blue gravitic engines of Facehuggerian fast STL torpedoes streaking towards the Shivans.

A warning shot, really. Star-General Shepherd didn't want the Shivans dead so much as gone. Every second the Shivans were there, was a second the refugees were in danger. To say nothing of the diplomatic shuttle, dancing frantically to avoid Shivan fire.

Some of the torpedoes were shot down. Others were intercepted – Shivan fighters sacrificed themselves to save their motherships.

Still, enough got through to maul the Shivan fleet. Bomb-pumped gamma lasers burnt through Shivan hulls, lancing through them as potently as any beam weapon. Shield disruption warheads detonated, tearing through the enemy's shields and leaving their hulls open to the terrible conversion bombs which tore through the Shivan fleet a heartbeat later. Within moments, the Shivan fleet was cut apart as though struck by the reaper's scythe.

And then... Something curious happened.

The Shivans fled.

But the Refugees didn't exactly let them go without a warning. A large warship – almost as large as the Vindicator – arrived with escorts, vaporizing much of the remaining Shivans with hellish blue-white energy beam.

The Shivan retreat turned to a rout. A massive rout.

And while Star-General Karna Shepherd would have liked to claim credit for her first victory, she had to admit that the Displaced's final “fuck you!” was more impressive than anything she'd done.

***

ISV Vindicator, Bridge.

“Nice Popgun.” General Shepherd said, half to herself. “Thoughts, Vindi?”

Though Vindicator's physical form was still meditating within his chapel, a hologram of his form shimmered into view besides the blonde general.

“Well, sensors pegged it as an anti-matter weapon. Think of it as the universe's biggest anti-matter flamethrower.”

“That's a lot of anti-matter to spit out. You think a resource-strapped refugee fleet would be more frugal with fuel. No matter, forward a report to our diplomatic team. We know the refugees use anti-matter, so we know they can contain it. We can probably write off a few million tonnes of the stuff as 'humanitarian aid' right?”

“Probably.” Vindi said. “Wait. We've got another fleet incoming. I'm seeing a big warp spasm... I wonder what the Chronosians are here for?”

With a thought, Karna accessed the fleet's sensor systems. “Chronosians my ass. We've got... Well, I'm not sure what they are. Some kind of Tyranid maybe? No, scratch that. They've only deployed one hiveship. I've never heard of 'Nids doing anything like that.”

And then she received the Cerebrate's message.

“Well, at least they're polite space bugs. Good. I wasn't looking forward to a big fight. Not with the refugee fleet in harm's way like this. Still, bring us closer to the refugees. In case these new guys try anything funny.”

“And of the Sith?” Vindicator asked.

“Ignore them. Only fools or Mekantans would attack a fleet with as much firepower as these refugees.” She replied.

Only Mekantans.

***

“Prime Vagner, we've detected a transporter event between our destination and the Displaced flagship. I'm betting their leader's there now. Should we change destination?” Liv asked, still guiding the shuttle remotely from the Branch.

“Not yet. Open a communications channel and ask where they would like us to land.”

“Done sir.”

This is the Facehuggerian diplomatic shuttle to Admiral Sain. Requesting landing permission on whatever vessel is convenient for you. Thank you.

OOC: Assume I've landed wherever you tell me to, though I'd like to write out my party exiting the shuttle myself please. Thanks.

Location: Assault Monastery Wrath of the Immortal Lord

Space itself screamed, violated by the sheer energy output of the ships that were now arriving. The Assault Monastery appeared first – a decomissioned Allanean battleship, almost three kilometers prow to stern.

Lucretia, Sister Superior of the Order of Our Immoral Lord, rose from her command couch. Upon the datascreens of the Wrath she could see her entire fleet before her – six cargo ships, not counting the enormous Heinlein class cargo hauler rented from some major freight company. It'd best if it got back in one piece.

Upon the sides of the enormous hauler, giant plates began of open up – large enough to move entire ships through. In fact, the front of the hauler was now opening, too. It was well.

This was a part of the plan.

The Sister Superior spoke calmly, her voice retransmitted through the entire ship.

Glory to the Messenger!

May we do His Will well today, my Sisters. Let us prepare. Many are the suffering who have not seen the Messenger's Light. Many are the infidels who plot to extinguish it. Many are the fools who do not wish to protect it. Thus, our work will be hard and dangerous. Many of us may die today.

But remember – she who dies and sets an innocent man free, does not die in vain.
But remember – she who dies and saves one innocent life, does not die in vain.

This is the word of the Messenger. As I speak it, so He delivered it unto us. As it was true when Sister Victoria received it, so is it true now.
We may die today – all of us – but none of us will die in vain.

I am not a leader, a speaker, an orator like those in the capital. I am not a God-King-President-Emperor. I am a humble servant of the Messenger. I speak His Truth, not my own. I deliver His Truth by the bolter, by the sword, by the ship's cannon. I pay for His Truth with my blood and my life.

I wear a uniform of the Order so others may wear the clothes of their choice. Like Our Lady the Queen, I bleed, so others may live safe. This is our way.

That is all. May the Messenger protect us all.

She turned to one of the junior acolytes.

“Sister Livia, patch me through to the refugee ships. Explain that we have come to render them assistance.”

-OOC-

Charzak, check your TGs.

Also, my IC response to CF, Allanea, and the Zerganids (^_^) will be a bit delayed.

edit plus bump

bump

Imperial Star Destroyer Revenant

To say that Captain Sunber was confused and bewildered would be an understatement. He didn't have a fraking clue as to where so many different alien craft appeared, not to mention the strange Shivans or the more recently arrived 'Overmind.' And then, of all things, a ship full of Religiously-nuty nuns wielding guns. That pretty much took the cake as far as Sunber was concerned.

As soon as the firing had started Sunber had ordered the Revenant to full battle alert. Shields were up 100% and all of the fighter squadrons were ready for immediate take off. However Sunber had maneuvered cautiously, moving his Star Destroyer into a position that could cover a few of the ships under Admiral Sain of Northwinds. His shuttle, which he'd been caught flat-footed on while the craziness was happening, was sitting in a holding pattern next to Sain's flagship, the Irreparable Spirit.

Ahoy Irreparable Spirit! Now that the hairy business seems to have quieted down, may I have permission to come aboard?

- Captain Sunber

After transmitting that to Sain, Sunber sent a message to Lieutenant Bradley ordering that the Revenant remain on high alert and prepared to defend the Northwind fleet. A distress call was also to be sent to Commodore Breison, who should be within the area where the Revenant had last been patrolling before receiving the Northwind's emergency broadcast. Sunber didn't like to sound like he was calling for help, but a few other Star Destroyers for back up and maybe anything else the Commodore could scrap together would be nice insurance in case another idiot decided to arrive and start popping off missiles. Not to mention, with Sith ships in the area, it would be nice to have Rodrik, aboard Commodore Breison's flagship, to help in case those nut-cases decided to start being dark and evil.

bump

The Phale A'Theins were new to the galactic stage, and new often implied naive, idealistic, unprepared and sometimes foolish. Like many other races before them however they were unwittingly drawn to a source of chaotic energy eminating from a system as yet unchartered to them...

Manned Extra-Solar Mobile Station Protoctista

The Protoctista would be familiar in it's design to many races who could remember their initial steps into space. A small station of modular making composed of cicular sections joined together. As a common design developed by many races on their own it would be compared to the I.S.S and Mir back on old Terra if anyone had the history stretching back to that far off time.

Of course, the Phale A'Theins had never heard of Terra, unaware of the comparison and those long gone stations, but regardless of that the Protoctista drifted through space using technology they could barely grasp themselves.

It is sounding again.
Implies?
Not sure, energy release, energy absorption, energy transfer...
Energy readings then?
Possibly...
What does the manual say on the matter?
One will check.

Pwhoot Ha' Zees tendrils danced across his computer console us he brought up the exact details on the subject, scanning through it with two of his beady black eyes he triumphantly declared, Yes. Energy readings.

And the source is? His counterpart replied checking the oxygen levels in their water environment.
Unknown.
Is a check in order?
Naturally, could be of benefit, one shall prepare the Translocator.

His tendrils danced across the console, electrical circuits thrummed throughout the ship as the Translocator built up energy and engaged in the nessacery mind bending calculations to "swap" their locations with something else in the galaxy. In a blink of an eye they were gone.

In the same blink they were back, in a different system, containing the energy readings which had taken them from their usual routine. Pwhoot analysed the readings conveyed to him before switching to visual for confirmation, he released a burst of electrical energy and his body changed to a bright green colour to convey the equivilant of a "wow".

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

The Protoctista floated far away from the results of a conflict unravelling before them, their telescopic and sensory apparatus focused upon their subjects, this was not immediatly a place for diplomacy, this was a place for hiding. They had given out no energy or other changes on arrival, their energy signatures of all sorts were masked, their defence mechanisms were primed just in case, otherwise they were nothing more than a mirage; a very small mirage that was as unlikely to spot as it was to find a needle in a haystack, for now they watched, took note and pieced together the scratchy radio communications which radiated out from the system.

-OOC-
Ack, okay, few more delays. I lost the post I was working on.

It was a good post, too. I'm sad.


The new one will suck, but I can save the OH SHIT for a bit after it. ^_^

Post comming.

(OOC: Could you make the OH SHIT happen only 7 days later? I can't change special relativity for convenience, although I could use the fact there is no time in the Warp as a plot device if necessary)

-OOC-

No, because the OH SHIT is for the Facehuggerians.

Plan a war with me if you want an OH SHIT.

Now I'm curious as to what it'll actually be. I figure either "Whuzzup, it's your allies, the Mekantans coming to visit!" or "Arglebargle, we know you're allied with those fiendish Meks!"

Oh shi-

bump

Happy Valentines Day bump, Mekanta. :p

Mekanta... Mekanta! I am the ghost of thread present! I - *Thwhack!* Damnit, I bumped my head.

-OOC-

Okay, anyone participating still interested in the thread now that I can find it again and have a system that I can actually use without having to back up my posts every three minutes?

OOC: Yes.

Though I haven't done much more than burst in, I'm interested in going to the end.

-OOC-

Okay, anyone participating still interested in the thread now that I can find it again and have a system that I can actually use without having to back up my posts every three minutes?

Sure. Sure. Do excuse any of my characters acting, well, out of character though please. I've kind of forgotten how they are, except the warships.