NationStates Jolt Archive

((OOC Thread (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=585548)))

Two months after Tenetia...

All was quiet on the 'Southern' expanse of Clan space. The 'Border Watchers,' massive, autonomous battle stations that lay along the internal edge of the nebula surrounding the Clans' cozy little place in the galaxy, lie dormant, passively scanning the nebula for whatever managed to pass through without being destroyed. The usual 'life' of a Border Watcher was rather dull, hence why the Clans made them autonomous. Their mere purpose, while practical, was positively boring. The original Border Watcher that had been first constructed had been a manned battle station, and, no more than ten years after its construction, had turned over to the Bandit Caste. Needless to say, the Clans had decided that automated stations were the way to go. Granted, the repair costs were a bitch, but they were well worth the money and effort.

1300 hours, Nova Cat territory

It was a normal day, like any other. The Border Watcher Expanse of Solace sat alone in the void between stars, ever watchful of the nebula before it. The AI, which is where it got its designation from, was positively bored at the moment. Its comrades had gone off to do their own thing, and that was pretty much what it was doing, too. The AI 'looked' at its internal clock. How long had it been...a whole second?! The AI let out a small moan that only it could hear. It hated its life. It was so...hello? What's this?

It was small...well, in comparison to the station. The AI did quite a number of scans on the object...drat, it was only a rock. The AI sighed as the rock passed by the station.

Soooooooooooo boooooooooooooooo-

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One week later, Seongbong, Nova Cat training world...

Seongbong.

A relatively uninhabited world, the population of this planet was barely a millionth of the Clan's total population. It was a good training world, too, because it, like Earth, had a highly-varied climate, ranging from deserts to jungle to tundra. Nova Cat had done well when they had bid the right to this world and won it over a millennium ago against Star Adder. Now, it was but a waste, harboring only primitive species still millions of years from attaining sapience. Nova Cat put this world to good use, their sibkos having one of the most intensive, if not most insane, training programs of all of the Clans.

Because of the lack of inhabitants on the planet, the rock that the Border Watcher had seen, and failed to report, casually entered the planet's atmosphere. By the time the planetary defense forces saw it, it was too late. The big rock had passed beyond the point of no return. What little could be done was done, with the rock taking seemingly no significant damage, and the Nova Cat defense fleet merely watched on.

Much to their satisfaction, the rock began to break into pieces. Whether it was because they had damaged it or because it was unstable, the Nova Cats could not tell. All that they could really tell was that it had now gone from being a massive, doomsday rock to a collection of smaller fragments. In total, roughly ninety percent of the rocks disintegrated in the planet's atmosphere. The Nova Cat commander, satisfied with those results, chose not to report this event to his sector command. Why bring it up? There wasn't a catastrophe, so it wasn't worth talking about.

Little did that Nova Cat commander know that those rocks were more than catastrophic. No one would even know about the coming tide until it was far too late...

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Spores.

They're an interesting object in the universe. Spores are a product of most fungi. It's the way that they reproduce, generally saturating a surface that is rife with nutrients before fully spreading into its full form. These spores are quite resilient to most environmental effects and, a lot of the time, could resist fire, flash freezes, and other effects that would destroy normal plant life.

Now, the reason we're talking about spores in this instance is that a rather unique spore was descending upon the planet. Nearly microscopic, these little orbs would shed away from the descending rocks, floating harmlessly down to the surface of the planet over one of the largest continents. How these spores survived living in a vacuum or descending through the atmosphere was a question that could never be answered.

The product of these spores would take time to bear their fruits, but when they did...

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One month later...

"Orks! Orks! Orks! Orks! Orks! Orks!"

It was unlike anything Ashlyn had seen in her life. Not more than a month ago, not a single living creature on the entire planet had been capable of sapience. How was it that they had missed the existence of such an advanced - were they advanced? - species living on this planet? There we hundreds of thousands of them, at the very least!

"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!"

Ashlyn's blood went cold. They were doing it again. This was the third time in an hour. Did they never give up? Standing from her foxhole, Ashlyn leveled her battle rifle and began squeezing off bursts at the charging swarm of large, green creatures. Around her, hundreds of her own comrades did the same. Children, entire sibkos, were up in arms to help in the defense as the Iron Wombs, the genetic materials within them, and the younger sibkos were evacuated from the planet. It was taking too long. They'd been fighting this new threat for almost a week now, and these...these...Orks, as they called themselves, had decimated their meager defense force. Even their training 'Mechs were destroyed, thus leaving the cobbled-together defenses struggling to hold back such an enormous army.

SPACK! There was a sudden feeling...no, absence...of pain, and Ashlyn felt herself falling backwards. There was blood in her eyes, and she watched as her fellow warriors and their sibko charges battling in a hopeless melee to stem this green tide. There was a shadow over her now. The enormous creature standing over her regarded her for but a moment, and then, after lifting his foot, stomped do-

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

Madnob smiled with glee as he felt the puny human's head squish underfoot. It was a reassuring feeling to know that your opponent could be beaten. However, his smile soon faded as he realized that these humans weren't worth the trouble to fight. They were weak, their army not even measuring out to twelve thousand fighting soldiers. Still, he couldn't give up. This was the next stage towards his goal of becoming the Boss. Yet, until then, he would have to serve his present boss until such time as he could prove himself to be the bigger Ork.

Raising up his choppa into the air, Madnob gave another bellowing war cry, causing the boys around him to stir to acts of greater bravery. Not like they'd really need to worry about such things, though...

"What in Kerensky's name are these things?"

It had been almost two months since Seongbong was lost. The Nova Cats had managed to evacuate the planet, but at a severe cost in lives. Nearly seventy percent of their battle-ready sibkos were wiped out in the Orks' third push on the training fortress. When the Nova Cat main fleet had arrived at the planet two days later to assess the situation, they were greeted by a fleet large enough to outweigh them in both numbers and fire power. Suffice to say, the fleet came back, but at eight percent strength than when they'd left on their mission.

"I do not know, my old friend." Jaime Kerensky, Khan of the Wolf Clan, glanced to his left at these words, smiling slightly as he saw Star Colonel Amelia. He placed a friendly hand upon her shoulder.

"It is good to have you home, Star Colonel Amelia," he said with a smile.

"It is good to be home, despite the circumstances," the tall, lustrous woman replied, returning the smile. It vanished as quick as it arrived. "What is the situation?"

"Not good," the Khan said, bringing up a display of Clan space as a whole. The screen first divvied out the spaces accordingly, by color, and then, using a time-based equation, it sectioned off where the Orks had taken control. Amelia's mouth gaped open as she saw the map. Nearly forty percent of Clan territorial space had been over run by these creatures, and the blood in her face drained as she watched the real-time map slowly change as the Orks gained more ground on several other planets and systems.

"This is unbelievable," Amelia said. "How can a race go from being nonexistent to taking control over so much space in less than six months time?"

"I know," Jaime replied. "The Council is just as dumbfounded as you are."

Amelia shook her head slowly for a few moments, trying to come to terms with what she saw before glancing over to the Khan. "Surely the Council has called for aid from our allies?"

Jaime shook his head. "Sadly, they will not listen to reason."

"The fools," Amelia spat.

"This is not to say that I have not," Jaime said, smiling lightly once more.

"Really?" Amelia gave the old man a look of intrigue.

"Of course," he replied. "I have heard many tales about 'Green Tides' such as this from our allies. Thus, I went ahead and sent a ship to one of our allies to help us in our endeavor of driving these creatures back to whence they came."

"Then I hope our allies arrive," Amelia said, looking at the map once more. "For it appears that we may not win this war."

Sadly for Amelia and Jaime, they would never know that the ship that had been sent had never made it through the Ork-controlled territory to deliver the message...

"'ere we go, boyz! Show dem humies who'z da best!"

"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!"

Madnob was on a roll. He had achieved one of the highest ranks and was second only to the Warboss, Gor da Bone Breaka. Now, under Gor's personal directive, Madnob was in charge of an entire section of the WAAAGH! They had invaded a planet that the humies called Hera, and they were fighting for every inch they could keep from the Orks. Madnob respected these humies. They were truly worthy opponents. Many of them never backed down from the Orks, and Madnob himself had had the pleasure of fighting several humie commanders in personal, one-on-one combat that measured who was the better fighter. Each time, Madnob won, although there were several points in which he thought he wouldn't win.

Now, he was personally leading a charge into the crumbling enemy line. Their 'uge stompas were turning tail in the face of overwhelming odds, and Madnob intended to finish them all off in one stroke. He was riding a wartrakk, the speed boy howling with glee as they charged straight through an infantry line in which several trukks stopped to disgorge their passengers upon the unfortunate humies. Madnob smiled as he watched his boyz tear apart the humies while he continued on with several other boyz to finish off those stompas.

He heard an explosion to his right, and he saw that one of the stompas was coming down, over a dozen boyz with rokkit packs on crawling across the massive weapon of war as they tore it apart. Madnob couldn't help but shout out a war cry, and he was answered, subconsciously, by those around him. The cry would literally carry across the entire front now, urging the Orks forward, causing problems for the Clan forces across the planet in mere hours.

"Ovah dere, boyz!" Madnob pointed at a large stompa with a skull-like face. "Dat'z our kill!"

As if to respond, the speed boy driving the trakk wheeled towards it, hooting and hollering as they charged towards it. It obviously saw them as its massive arm turned towards them and fired. Madnob barely had time to jump off the trakk before it exploded in a fiery cacophony that threw him further than he jumped. However, unlike the rider and the six other boyz that had been riding on the trakk with him, Madnob hit the ground, rolled, and came back to his feet. It was almost graceful, if he hadn't bounced a few times first.

The stompa, no longer concerned with that trakk, began focusing its fire elsewhere as smaller stompas retreated past it. Madnob took this opportunity to pick up one of the trip bombz that one of his boyz was carrying and charge the distracted stompa. Dodging between the thundering legs, Madnob finally came to the 'uge stompa and, using his choppa, began to climb his way up its leg. The pilot didn't seem to notice, and he never would as Madnob slapped the round-shield like bomb onto the machine's back before leaping from it. He took the fall as gracefully as he could (i.e., he belly-flopped onto the hard dirt), and then rolled over to see the bomb rip through the stompaz armor and nearly tear it in half.

Once the machine had toppled over, Madnob picked up his choppa, grabbed a slugga off a dead boy, and then rallied his incoming line. These humies were about to see what the power of the WAAAGH was capable of!

"Fall back! Kerensky be damned, fall back!"

Two weeks after the fall of Hera.

The Clans were on the run. The Orks, having made successful pushes into Ghost Bear and Jade Falcon territories, had managed to encircle the central systems. At the behest of Wolf and much to the displeasure of the Falcons, the remainder of the Clans had pulled their force composition and their individual populations from their other systems, thereby buying themselves time as the Orks ventured into those systems.

Now, on the Clan capital world of Strana Mechty and the several other worlds that the Clans still held, they were making their last stand. All of the civilian populace had been sent to Mundus Magicus, where the Maho Caste was fervently preparing something for the arrival of the Orks. The Clans knew that they weren't going to be able to hold the Orks forever. They were outnumbered thousands to one, but they would be damned if they let the Orks through without a fight.

Amelia was one of the leading commanders on Strana Mechty, and, rather than pilot a 'Mech, she chose to fight the enemy head-on. With her extra training with the Maho Caste, she was proving an invaluable asset. The Orks were terrified of her ferocity and her power as she cut dozens of their number down in single strokes, and the portion of the front that she was in control of was, frankly, one of the few managing to hold back the Green Tide with ease.

However, not all of the fronts were having it as easy as those that had Maho Caste support, and, thus, it was only natural that they'd be forced back to the main city. It was there that the Orks, in an odd twist of fate, stopped their advance, sitting outside the range of standard infantry fire. Artillery still played back and forth between both forces, creating an artificial heart beat for everyone to hear.

"Why have they stopped?" One of Amelia's charges glanced over his cover, trying to see if there were any Orks close by.

"I know not why they stop," she replied to his question, standing tall and definitely well within sight of the Orks.

"Maybe they have decided to give up?" The soldier looked to his commander, to which she shook her head.

"No," she said. "The Orks do not give up. It is not their nature to gi-"

WHAM!

Amelia nearly lost her footing from the sudden noise and the applicable vibration following it, her men not so lucky as they fell on there rears.

"What in...?!" Amelia quickly searched amongst her charges. "Status report!"

"All points are battle ready, lead!" A man down the line yelled. "Whatever it was, it did not come from-"

WHAM!

This time, Amelia ducked down, holding onto something to steady herself. Her men had done the same, and they were muttering amongst themselves. After a few moments, one of them pointed into the distance. "Look!"

Amelia stood once more, looking into the distance. What she saw shocked her. It was enormous, larger than anything she had ever seen. Nay, it towered over everything on the planet. She began to step back as her face began to turn white in fear for the first time in her life. She couldn't even conceive how such a thing had been built.

This...'Mech...stood hundreds of meters tall, dwarfing every battle vehicle on the planet. Even the powerful 'Mechs of the Clans were dwarfed by such a machine. Across the fronts, the Clans were signaling a full-scale retreat to the subterranean base where they would be mass-transported to Mundus Magicus via magical teleportation.

The whole way back, Amelia did not speak one word. Never in her life had she ever been so scared...

The skies were alight with fire over Mundus Magicus as two massive war fleets dueled over the planet. The Clans, backed against their final bastion of hope, fought a losing battle with the Ork fleet that outnumbered them nearly one hundred to one. Despite these odds, the Clan fleet had not yet capitulated, even after the past seven hours of constant fighting.

Below both fleets, the mighty Stonehenge Rail Cannons shot forth their seismic payloads, the shells displacing entire Ork formations that even attempted to dodge these devastating warheads. The Orks, while numerous, did not outgun the Clans in this instance, and it showed as Ork ships were torn to shreds by the dozens by the Stonehenge guns alone.

Below, upon the planet, civilians were being packed into the numerous, nearly-unmeasurable ruins and catacombs that snaked through the crust of the planet, trying desperately to fit the enormous population within the planet. Above, on the surface, warriors, both Clan and Maho, stood to, placing up fortifications, flak positions, and running tactical scenarios regarding their foe. They were pitifully outnumbered on land, and they knew it. Yet, despite this, the soldiers kept a good attitude.

While fortifications and anti-air emplacements were being made across the planet, the Council, or what was left of it, convened within the Grand Palace of the House of Vespertatia in Ostia.

"So, Khan Jaime Kerensky." The ilKhan's voice was tired, worn. He'd been up for weeks without an ounce of sleep, and now here he was, the leader of the Clans, nearly unrecognizable to his Council. "What do you propose that we do?"

Jaime sighed, rubbing his own eyes as he fought back a tired yawn. Like the ilKhan, he, too, had been up for a lengthy period of time, and he was starting to feel it take its toll on his old, weary body. "At this point, I do not know. We are backed into a corner with no real means of retreating."

"Unity." The ilKhan rubbed his own eyes, placing his face into his hands. "Have we no hope?"

"There is always hope," the Empress replied, sitting upon her throne above the Council as was her right. "We must trust that our allies are coming, no matter what happens."

"And what if they do not?!" Amelia stepped forth, now a legitimate member of the Council since her actions at Strana Mechty. "We stand upon the precipice of destruction while we rely upon a single ship to bring back help! I keep saying, there is no way that the ship made it through! It is folly to think such an event occurred or will occur!"

The room was silent for the moment. What were they to do now...?

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

"...I say again, this is the Scorpion to Strana Mechty. Please respond."

Several supply ships of varying size sat outside of the nebula surrounding their home. Patriots, Sabers; it mattered not what they were. All that mattered is that they had been sitting in a holding pattern for three hours now, having returned from their trading mission to New Dornalia, their allies.

"Still no response, lead," the communications officer said.

"Damn it all," the commander, one Star Commodore Aaron Jorgensen, said. "Then there is no choice. Send a relay message back to New Dornalia. Tell them to bring assistance. Something does not smell right."

"Aff," the communications officer replied.

To the Dornalians, we require your assistance. We are unable to contact our home worlds and suspect the worst. We implore that you send aid immediately, as we do not have the necessary weapon systems to combat any threat, if there is one. I repeat...

JRCCC

MacIntyre, as he woke from a short catnap on his cot, rubbed his temples. Juggling all these crises with no booze and only coffee and cookies was murder on one's systems. His PDA then buzzed.

"What the shit?"

It flipped open, and he read, "Mac.....this is Lew. Factor C is in trouble."

HE then replied, "Don't fucking call them Factor C. Just say Clans, besides this is a hyper encrypted signal. And yes, send a unit of ships, do it under Commissariat of Science prerogatives to avoid suspicion."

Thus, the message went back:

"Help is on the way."

"Star Commodore Aaron Jorgensen, we have received a return message." The communications officer turned to face his commanding officer. "They are currently sending ships to assist."

"Ee tee ay?" Aaron kept his gaze pointed in the direction of the nebula, as if he were intent on boring a hole through it with his eyes to see what was going on within.

"Unknown, lead," the comm officer replied.

"Frak it all," Aaron muttered under his breath. "Hold position until they arrive."

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

It was like Hell. No, it was Hell.

Amelia swung her blade wide, cleaving an Ork in two at the waist and felling another through evisceration. They had been fighting for hours now with no clear end to the Orks in sight. It seemed to her that, as she killed one Ork after another, fifty to a hundred more would take their place at any given moment. The Orks hadn't even been on the planet for more than twelve hours and already their bodies piled to the point that the ground could no longer be seen in certain parts of the world. Long had ammunition been exhausted for the average infantry. They had run out in the first hour of fighting, and even the tanks had run out and their crews had now taken to fighting in hand-to-hand against these monstrosities.

Another Ork swung its crudely-designed hand-axe at her, and Amelia responded by easily parrying the weapon and stepping into the creature's guard, placing a hand upon its chest and, using an unincanted spell, blasted a hole through it, killing the filthy, green creature in a shower of blood. She didn't even bother to check to make sure it was dead, moving on to the next Ork and jamming her blade through its neck and skull, pushing it over with her own inhuman strength and ripping her weapon free of its flesh as she cleaved another Ork in two in a vertical swipe. Around her, she could hear the screams of battle, of the dying.

Another Ork came forward, but, this time, Amelia noticed that something was much different about this one...

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

Madnob could see the humie. She was quite the fighter, easily tearing his boyz apart like they were not but weak, cowardly grots. He relished in the chance to do battle with her, making his way towards her. She noticed him, and this made him only wish to battle her more. He broke into a run, swinging his choppa low to catch her at her legs. She parried the blow easily, moving to strike him with a lunging stab. Madnob quickly dodged, much to the woman's surprise. What surprised her more was the leg that connected with her midsection and sent her reeling across the field, landing on her back. Madnob roared as he charged towards his downed opponent, but she recovered quickly enough to parry him away, rolling as she did to avoid a counter attack, thereby giving her enough time to bring her own weapon up to a ready stance. Madnob, now recovered from her parry, smiled a crooked, Orky smile.

"You'z got quite da skillz dere, lass," he said, his Orky accent thick in his speech (note that Orks sound like they're Cockney).

"You are no pushover, either, Ork," the woman replied, keeping her stance as she watched him intently.

Madnob snorted in amusement. "Let'z jus' see 'aow long you survive. I moight tink uhbowt makin' you into a trophy or somethin'."

The woman sneered at him. "I would like to see you try."

Madnob grinned his Orky grin once more, and then charged her with a bellowing roar. The woman charged him in much the same fashion.

Steel clashed...

The twenty-five ships under the command of Admiral Yamashita, dispatched from New Leningrad, made all due speed to the origin of the Clan signal. Only the Political Officer, Michael Menard, had been told of the truth about the matter. As far as Yamashita was concerned, she was being sent to investigate a signal and severely abnormal disturbances. What kind of disturbances required twenty five Mao Zedong Mark IIIa Pocket Battleships was beyond her, though. Then again, it didn't pay to question.

Upon reaching the source of the signal, Menard hailed the ship, asking Yamashita to step aside for a moment. He then did so via a secure channel, and a Cone of Silence to prevent others from hearing.

"This is Political Officer Michael Menard of the NDS Uttar Pradesh. We have recieved reports of a disturbance in Clan Space. What is the situation?"

The reply came quickly. "That, Political Officer Michael Menard, is something which we do not know, hence why we called for assistance. We can not afford diatribe on the matter. Action must be taken if we are to ascertain what is happening. Follow the nav-beacon to form up with our fleet. Do not break formation as we pass through the nebula. You would not wish to find out what happens if you do..."

With that, the small Clan trade fleet began to array into a box-shape formation with the navpoint in the center of their formation.

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"WAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!"

"HYYYAAAAAAAAAAH!"

Amelia and Madnob clashed once more, their blades ringing as they continued to search for an opening in the others guard. By this point, Madnob had opted to throw down his slugga and pick up another choppa while Amelia continued to use her trademark nodachi. While at a disadvantage against the Ork, considering her weapon of choice, Amelia was holding her own quite well. After another flurry of attacks, both combatants broke off, and then began to circle one another, trying to catch their breath.

"You'z...pretty good...fer uh humie..."

"You...are not so bad yourself...Ork..."

Madnob chuckled lightly. "When I'z dun wif you, you'z gonna be r'membuhd...az uh trofee on me pointy stick bak at da hut."

Amelia smiled. "When I am done with you, you will be mounted on my wall back on Coredia."

"We'z gonna see 'bout dat one, humie," Madnob said, charging Amelia once more.

Yet again, steel rang between them...

The reply came quickly. "That, Political Officer Michael Menard, is something which we do not know, hence why we called for assistance. We can not afford diatribe on the matter. Action must be taken if we are to ascertain what is happening. Follow the nav-beacon to form up with our fleet. Do not break formation as we pass through the nebula. You would not wish to find out what happens if you do..."

With that, the small Clan trade fleet began to array into a box-shape formation with the navpoint in the center of their formation.
.

The PO acknowledged the Clan order, and then told Yamashita, "Follow the Clan formation. Do not deviate. They insist on it."

Yamashita looked skeptically at Menard, but then, Menard said, "Orders from the top. I can't tell you anything more."

SIghing, Yamashita ordered them to follow, similarly moving into a combat-box formation and following the traders.

As the ships moved into formation, the lead Patriot began its descent into the nebula, closely followed by the rest of the traders who were followed by the Dornalians. The lead Patriot was acting as a beacon for the entire fleet to home in on, as the Dornalians would suddenly find that every one of their sensors was now blind to everything except the powerful, blaring signal of the leading ship. At times, the fleet would have to fend off large, biological creatures that resembled ancient Terra's sea monsters, such as Krakens and Serpents. Few ships were ever actually damaged, and only a hapless Saber-class Frigate was lost as an enormous tendril from some unknown creature lashed out from the depths of the clouds and yanked the ship away from the fleet with enormous strength and incredible speed.

"Keep the formation tight." It was Aaron speaking to the congregated fleet. "It will not be much longer before we breach to the other side."

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It had only been an hour since Amelia and Madnob had been separated from one another by the countering charges from both sides. The armies of Mundus Magicus had finally joined the fray as it was showing that Clans alone could not stem the tide of the Green Skins. Large were the numbers of the Ork; few were the numbers of the Clans. This sudden turn of events pushed the Ork hold on the planet far back, allowing the Clans time to recover as their magical allies quite literally ripped the Orks a new hole they never knew existed. Across the front, Gargants (http://wh40k.lexicanum.com/wiki/Gargant) battled with massive airships of fish-like design, causing untold destruction upon the landscape as massive armies numbering in the tens of millions waged total war upon one another beneath these hulking war machines.

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Ostia, Capital City of the Kingdom of Ostia

"This war gone for far too long." The Queen of Ostia, Arika Vespertatia, sat in her chair amongst the convened council once more. "We can not rely upon our allies to come and save us. We must act now and use it."

"You can not possibly be suggesting that, your Highness?!" Jaime, with Amelia at his side, looked at the Queen in disbelief.

"I concur with the Khan, Arika. This is simply foolish to attempt at such a time." The Prime Minister of the Confederation tapped his fingers across the table, leaning over the table slightly. "Even if it were to succeed at this point, we would still be bringing a number of the Orks with us in the process."

"And if we do not do it now, what then?" Arika looked to the Prime Minister. "What happens when the Orks have amassed their entire fleet and begin descending upon the planet in mass?"

"It's a risk we must take, Arika." The Emperor of the Hellas Empire sighed. "If the Orks come down upon us, then we will fight to the bitter end."

Jaime nodded. "As will we."

"Then that settles it." The President of Ariadne nodded. "We will drive the Orks from the planet before we perform the ceremony. Do you think you can handle it?"

All eyes were now upon one man (http://image.ohozaa.com/iy/ccnagispringfield033gp2hs3.jpg) sitting at the end of the table. A stupid grin played upon his face as he looked up to the Council through mussed hair.

"'course," he replied, looking up to his comrades who stood behind him. "We're Ala Rubra. What can't we handle?"

As the ships moved into formation, the lead Patriot began its descent into the nebula, closely followed by the rest of the traders who were followed by the Dornalians. The lead Patriot was acting as a beacon for the entire fleet to home in on, as the Dornalians would suddenly find that every one of their sensors was now blind to everything except the powerful, blaring signal of the leading ship. At times, the fleet would have to fend off large, biological creatures that resembled ancient Terra's sea monsters, such as Krakens and Serpents. Few ships were ever actually damaged, and only a hapless Saber-class Frigate was lost as an enormous tendril from some unknown creature lashed out from the depths of the clouds and yanked the ship away from the fleet with enormous strength and incredible speed.

"Keep the formation tight." It was Aaron speaking to the congregated fleet. "It will not be much longer before we breach to the other side."


Menard nodded, but Yamashita was busy recieving the frantic, panicked transmissions from the Flotilla under her command. Menard's calm only made her more irritated, and as he whistled the "Colonel Bogey March," more transmissions concerning weapons exchange with unknown entities and sensor loss flowed in, with Gracie's overworked avatar barely keeping up with the transmissions, comically signing forms in the guise of a flustered secretary as she screamed, "Incoming transmissions! All ships report sensor loss and contact with hostiles!"

"Keep in formation, and do what the guide says," Menard said. "As the man says, it won't be long."

At that point, Yamashita took Menard aside with a simple, "PO Menard--may I see you for a moment?"

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

In her ready room, Yamashita challenged Menard with a simple, "What the hell is going on, and why the hell are you usurping my authority? You've made no declaration of Article 36 Emergency Powers, nor--"

"As I have said," Menard said with a dismissive wave of his hand, "that's need to know information. Straight from the highest echelons of power themselves."

"But--"

Menard gritted his teeth and said, "Highest echelons. That is all I will say." He then walked forward and intimidatingly moved to close his distance with Yamashita, saying, "If you contest me any further, I will invoke Article 36 and officially detain you for obstruction of duty in the execution of the orders of a superior officer." With a forceful poke, he then said, "Said superior officers being in the highest echelons, their authority exceeds yours at this time. Now, be a good girl, and follow the nice tour guide. Or we will have a problem."

Yamashita gulped and said bitterly, "Yes, PO Menard. I suppose I can't have proof of that mission, then?"

"When all is said and done, you may have proof. Until then, you will have to go on my word."

With that, Menard and Yamashita went back to the bridge, and things settled down. Still, Yamashita was curious. What was so damned important that Menard had to threaten her with Article 36--every Commissar's right to declare the CO unfit for duty and assume command in his/her place--just for asking why?

Menard knew, meanwhile. It was the fact that this was Clan territory--and since Robert MacIntyre and the inner circle had vowed to keep the Clans a secret, they gave the info only to a trusted few sent to deal with them. As it so happened, Menard was a newly minted member of "those few."

Not more than two hours after their initial entry into the nebula, the fleet slowly began to emerge onto the other side. What as before them would be considered one of the 'Questionably Natural Wonders of the Universe...'

While the Clanners paid the sight no heed, the Dornalians would see before them the nebula, encompassing a vast expanse of space that harbored hundreds of stars of varying colors, sizes, and configurations. With the backdrop of a nebula, it almost seemed as if the space they were within was finite, never expanding beyond the nebula's interior walls. Before them, less than half a light year from their entry point, was a quaternary system, the four separate stars staggering each other in size with three of the stars orbiting one massive star, their own lights hardly even visible in comparison to the super giant star.

"We must move quickly," Aaron spoke over the comm. "We are only detecting one signal, and it is a call for assistance."

As if to reinforce his point, the fleet began to move on ahead without the Dornalian fleet, activating their hyper drives (courtesy of the Dornalians) and easily streaking on ahead past the system towards a distant yellow star...

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

"FOR HELLAS!"

"FOR HELLAS~~~~!"

It was a unified charge into the oncoming horde. Just as predicted, the Orks had received reinforcements and the planet was practically covered in their foul, green color. Man and woman, beast and demon, all of the Hellas Empire was upon the front, charging into the opposing mass of green, stinking flesh called Orks. Blood stained the soil, turning it to mud. Bodies were stacked ten deep, and still both armies trudged forth into one another, both sides vying for the upper hand. While the Hellans took this battle seriously, the Orks, like the childish creatures they were, were having the time of their short, miserable lives. All of them were hooting and hollering as the power of the WAAAGH!!! overtook their feeble minds and sent them into a carnal blood lust.

All, that is, except for one...

Near the rear of the massive Ork army, Madnob stood before the Warboss, looking obviously displeased.

"See wut da magik boyz iz doin'?" Madnob waved his arm towards the front lines. "Dey'z not gonna givz up wit'out a foight, an' dey'z not runnin' away loik dem Clan humiez. You'z wayst'n boyz on dis foight."

"An' wut do you think givz you da roight ta challenge me loik da sloimy git dat you iz, huh?" The Warboss towered over Madnob head and torso, looking down at the smaller Ork.

"I haz ev'ry roight ta challenge you, ya grot snogger," Madnob replied, standing to his full height. "Da way you'z lead'n da boyz showz just 'ow weak you iz!"

The Warboss bellowed, swinging his massive, two-handed choppa, something that no ordinary Ork could ever carry, downwards, intending to kill Madnob right there for his insubordination. Surprisingly, Madnob was no longer there, easily bypassing the Warboss' strike and jumping into his guard, swinging his own one-handed choppa level with the boss's head horizontally and sending it flying into the air. Blood spewed forth like a fountain from the stump of the former Warboss' head, the body staggering for a few moments before falling to the ground with a resounding THUMP-DUD! The boyz around them looked down at the body with a bit of shock and awe, and then all of them looked up to the new Boss. Madnob leaned over, picking up the head of the former boss, lifting up the massive head to observe it for but a few moments. Then, without warning, he threw it back down onto the ground and stomped on it, crushing the head as if it were nothing.

When all the Orks present had born witness to that one final gesture, they all roared in approval at their new Warboss. Madnob smiled, knowing that, now, he was in full control of the WAAAGH!!! He was the sole leader of the horde now.

"Awright boyz," he shouted. "Let'z win dis WAAAGH!!!"

Menard ordered the Dornalians to follow. In a manner that would likely please the Clanners, he ordered curtly, "Follow our hosts to their location, use Bosun Jump."

"Sir, picking up signal."

"I know that. Same one they got, a distress call, yes?" Menard curtly said, not turning to look at the officer who announced that the call was made and that they had the distress signal in hand.

The officer nodded, and thus Menard said, "Now, go. We have little time to waste."

Thusly, the Dornalians warped after the Clanners, toward that distant yellow star. Menard thought to prepare weapons, and quietly issued that order on the Gracie Linkups as they moved to close the distance with their guides. Something smelled bad....real bad.

"Die."

The sound of auto-cannon fire blasted into the night as Amelia tore an enormous hole in a small Ork 'Mech. The Ork vehicle tottered as its leg was torn off by the high-rate-of-fire weapons on the Clanner's personal 'Mech before it came crashing down as it was smashed by another flurry of auto-cannon fire, effectively making the Ork 'Mech into scrap.

Amelia spent no time gloating over her kill as she heard warning klaxons sound from her display, back-pedaling to avoid a heavy barrage of laser and machine gun fire. Her Mad Cat twisted to see what was firing on her, and she cursed as she counted more than a dozen new 'Mechs and plenty of assisting small vehicles trekking on up to her defensive position. She quickly brought one of the small vehicles up as a target, switching over to her shoulder missile launchers, and then, keying in command, she fired a single, blinking missile at the vehicle. When the missile came within fifty feet of the vehicle, it popped open, sprinkling the vehicle with a light powder. Amelia smiled as the vehicle now became a navpoint beacon.

"Lone Wolf One to God Hammer," she said, back pedaling further as she fired several more barrages of her auto-cannons. "Target is mobile navpoint. Fire for effect."

"Aff, Lone Wolf One. Firing for effect."

Several dozen kilometers away, a small, but heavily defended, artillery position began redirecting its fire. After a few moments of rotating cannons and repositioning rocket trucks, the artillery position suddenly came to life, cannons firing shells high into the air as rockets vomited forth from their carriers.

Amelia continued to fight off the Orks, and she had successfully managed to keep them pinned long enough to see the first half-dozen shells smash into the Ork vehicles, tearing several of them to pieces before rockets and more shells continued to do the preceding shells' job. Within mere seconds, more than eighty percent of the vehicles had been destroyed, leaving Amelia the job of mopping up the stragglers.

"Fire mission was good, God Hammer," she said. "Thanks for the quick response."

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

"Khilipl Astrape!"

Lightning tore apart the landscape in Northern Hellas, incinerating swathes of Orks in single instances as thousands of lightning bolts peppered an area roughly the length of ten football fields in both length and width. By the time the spell was over, pass into the valley had been rendered into a lake of molten rock that was impassable to any creature trying to enter the valley from that point.

"That should keep them at bay for awhile," Nagi said, standing about three hundred meters away from where he had deployed his attack.

"Always the brutally efficient one." Alberio Imma stepped up next to his friend, observing the massive destruction caused by the spell.

"You know how I am, Al," Nagi said with a smirk. "If you're gonna block a pass-"

"'Make sure you do it permanently,'" Al said, finishing his friend's words with a smile.

Nagi laughed, returning his gaze to the pass. "How's everyone else doing?"

"Fairly well, considering," Al replied, looking over to his friend. "Jack and Zect managed to seal off a considerably large mountain pass some two hundred kilometers to the South of us. Eishun, Gateau, and Takamichi are currently forcing a small army's worth of Orks out of the Hellan capital itself. Amelia and the Ninth Galaxy seem to have Noctus Labyrinthus covered. Ariadne and Hellas have the Orks bogged down in the Southern continent with heavy jungle fighting. It seems the local fauna doesn't particularly like the Orks too much, either. Megalomesembria and Ostia currently have the Orks tied up North of Noctus Labyrinthus. For now, it seems we have them under control, although I personally, would knock on wood over that statement."

"Good," Nagi said, knocking on a piece of wood as they passed by it, having begun walking back towards the field HQ a few moments earlier. "We're going to need every bit of luck we've got right now."

((Filler post, for now.))

"Approaching destination point in five...four...three...two...one..."

The ships came to a sudden decrease in speed as they arrived at their destination point. The first thing that came to their attention as they arrived was the staggering number of unclassified ships floating right in the general area of their arrival zone. This forced the entire fleet to perform evasive actions just to keep from crashing into these ships. What was worse is that the ships that noticed them started firing without provocation, and the Clan fleet immediately began retaliating.

"Lead..." The tactical officer's voice was trembling, and this made Aaron turn his head to him rather sharply.

"What?" His voice was quick and sharp as he replied.

"Those ships," the tactical officer said. "They...they are ours..."

"What do you mean? Explain yourself!" Aaron was about to come down on this man hard as he hopped down into the station and looked over the officer's shoulder at his display panel. What Aaron saw made his jaw drop.

The first thing to catch his attention was the staggering number of unidentified ships. The console counted at least five thousand ships sitting in orbit over Mundus Magicus, all of which were focused directly at the planet as tens of thousands of smaller craft ferried their cargo down to the planet's surface.

The second thing that caught his attention was the ship types. The computer registered them as all belonging to the Clans, yet their IFF codes weren't showing up. The ships just appeared as blank slates on the IFF console. Those that were firing at the Trading Fleet were automatically classified as hostiles, but, even so, they were still Clan-made ships. The only differences seemed to be the amount of patch-jobs, the crudely-applied red paint, and the large badge emblazoned upon the hulls. The badge appeared to be a large skull of some grotesque creature with a crack running through it.

"Lead! Transmission coming from the planet!"

"Patch it through!" Aaron quickly jumped back up to the main deck as the comm officer did as instructed.

"Where have you been?! We called for aid months ago!" The aged face of Wolf Khan Jaime Kerensky filled up the viewing screens, static occasionally interrupting the transmission.

"We received no such call, Khan," Aaron replied.

"Then the ship I sent must not have made it through," Jaime stated, sitting back in his chair. "My aide tells me that you brought allies, yet I see so few ships..."

The ship rocked lightly as it took several shots from a nearby enemy ship. Aaron compensated for it, but did not fall. "We had no way to gauge the situation from outside of the nebula. We called for what could come."

"Well, at least they are Dornalians," the Khan said. "Greetings, friends. Welcome to our house-warming party for our present guests. Would you care to join in the 'festivities?'" The Khan's dry humor was quite obvious.

"Where have you been?! We called for aid months ago!" The aged face of Wolf Khan Jaime Kerensky filled up the viewing screens, static occasionally interrupting the transmission.

"We received no such call, Khan," Aaron replied.

"Then the ship I sent must not have made it through," Jaime stated, sitting back in his chair. "My aide tells me that you brought allies, yet I see so few ships..."

The ship rocked lightly as it took several shots from a nearby enemy ship. Aaron compensated for it, but did not fall. "We had no way to gauge the situation from outside of the nebula. We called for what could come."

"Well, at least they are Dornalians," the Khan said. "Greetings, friends. Welcome to our house-warming party for our present guests. Would you care to join in the 'festivities?'" The Khan's dry humor was quite obvious.

Menard replied with a nod and a quiet but firmly stated, "Aff, Khan. And by the looks of things, it seemed the party still has room for guests."

His view of the screen was mixed with curiosity and unease, as the Dornalians also began evasive manuevers to stay with the Clanners. Their own EM Rifles and Demolisher Guns barked en masse to answer the fire from the enemy that sought to engage them, and it was obvious that if they had to be asked later, PO Menard could really get away with saying, "They Shot First."

The ships of the foe were the odd part. They looked like the Clanner ships in front, and from what the Dornalians knew of their ship designs--they did like to keep quiet, those Clanners. Still, like the Merchant Castemen in front, they would also be fully aware that their new red paint jobs, crude gear and items of all sorts made them seem rather like pirates, not an organized force. What were these guys?

"Right, then," Jaime replied. "In light of the Dornalian arrival, I am placing the current space assets available under the command of the present Dornalian commander. Your orders are to break through to the planet and create a defensive zone over the capital of Ostia. Good luck."

"Aff, Wolf Khan Jaime Kerensky," Aaron said, acknowledging the Khan's wishes despite what his superior had just ordered. "Political Officer Michael Menard. I hereby transfer all commanding rights to you."

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

"Oi, boss."

Madnob turned his attention from the front line to look at one of his underlings, a smaller Ork called Rak. "Wot iz it?"

"Da flyboyz an' da spaceboyz iz sayin' dat dere'z more humies comin'." Rak spoke in a matter-of-fact tone, as if it were common knowledge.

Madnob growled, turning and pushing past his subordinate. "Dey'z gonna mess ev'rythin' up if dey getz to da serfuss. I tink I'z bettur do da leadin' up in space. Can't trust dem flyboyz ta do anytin roight."

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

The Orks, thankfully, still hadn't figured out what was going on at this point, and the only Ork ships that seemed to be currently acknowledging the existence of the now-present Clan-Dornalian fleet were the ones within close proximity to the warp-in point. These ships, eager to finally get into the thick of it, were now charging the assembled 'humie' fleet, their guns firing off sporadically and less than aimed with shots flying wildly everywhere. It was likely that these ships would do more damage to their own allies than they would to their new enemies.

"Right, then," Jaime replied. "In light of the Dornalian arrival, I am placing the current space assets available under the command of the present Dornalian commander. Your orders are to break through to the planet and create a defensive zone over the capital of Ostia. Good luck."

"Aff, Wolf Khan Jaime Kerensky," Aaron said, acknowledging the Khan's wishes despite what his superior had just ordered. "Political Officer Michael Menard. I hereby transfer all commanding rights to you."

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

The Orks, thankfully, still hadn't figured out what was going on at this point, and the only Ork ships that seemed to be currently acknowledging the existence of the now-present Clan-Dornalian fleet were the ones within close proximity to the warp-in point. These ships, eager to finally get into the thick of it, were now charging the assembled 'humie' fleet, their guns firing off sporadically and less than aimed with shots flying wildly everywhere. It was likely that these ships would do more damage to their own allies than they would to their new enemies.

Yamashita would have protested, but at this point, Menard's command of Article 36 ensured she didn't get even a whimper in. The Political Officer said, saluting, "Aff, lead." Inside he was rather surprised, but then again, whoever these brigands firing wildly were, they evidently were giving the Clans major problems.

He asked Gracie what was the status of nearby forces.

"Only moving enemy units are those near to us. No sign of reinforcements. However, the enemy is moving in, and hot!" was his Chirpy AI's command.

Menard then issued an all call to all units under his command.

"All units, this is Political Officer Michael Menard. Assemble into defensive combat boxes and assemble said boxes into a wedge, and set course of the planet, destination orbit over Ostia. Time is of the essence. Move as quickly as possible, mass fire as much as possible to defend against enemy ordinance."

Thus, the Clan-Dornalians under his command began to comply, and rapidly moved out, firing defensively as they sought to break through to the planet.

The offensively-moving defensive formations were quite efficient in dealing with the Orks as they advanced towards the planet, taking out those that were stupid enough to get too close to them. Still, this did not deter the Orks. If anything, it made them notice the now-present Clan-Dornalian fleet, and it would soon be apparent to this outnumbered fleet that such an event had occurred. It took less than a few minutes for a near-homogeneous swarm of ships begin descending upon this fleet. Now, while this was a problem for them, it would soon become apparent that this fleet wasn't exactly organized.

This was emphasized as a stray shot smacked into one of the Orks' own ships. This ship soon retaliated against that ship, but hit another ship instead. Within mere seconds of the Orks realizing that there was fighting to be had with humies, they had just as easily turned upon each other, and it wasn't long before a fully-fledged Ork vs. Ork .vs Human fleet battle began to take place.

As if to give the tiny fleet even more hope, the planet suddenly began firing into the Ork fleet as the chaos ensued. The massive seismic rounds of the Ostian Stonehenge defensive emplacement tore through the Ork ships like they sheets of paper, throwing the Ork ships into one another with just the sheer power of the shock wave.

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

KATHOOOOM!

Another salvo of shots from the Stonehenge guns flew into the air above the combatants duking it out at the edge of Ostian territory. The Orks had unexpectedly attacked Ostia from seemingly nowhere, and it was now up to Ala Alba, the 'White Wing,' of Mundus Magicus, along with the Ostian Royal Guard, to hold off this new battle line. Orks flew into the air at the front line of the battle as the over-powered children and teens of Ala Alba pummeled these unfortunate green skins into non-existence.

"INUGAMI WOLF FANG IMPACT!"

The Ork of Kotaro's focus was thrown through the air in two halves, knocking over the Orks comrades as they tried to rush the dog-eared boy. Kotaro smirked as those that managed to get through still came rushing forward, and then set himself into a ready stance. The first Ork swung downward at Kotaro only to have his choppa stuck in the ground and a foot knocking off his jaw. The second Ork swung wide, but he managed to find himself flying into the air with a broken spine. The others? Well, they turned tail and ran.

Kotaro shook his head with a disappointed smirk and a huff. "What a bunch of cowards. Running away like that..."

"It's because you're so strong, Kotaro-kun." Negi Springfield, son of Nagi Springfield, landed next to his compatriot, having just dispatched a series of unsuccessful fighta-bombaz.

"Duh," Kotaro replied, smirking at his friend and rival. "'course I am."

"Quit standing around, you two." Asuna jumped back as a Killa Kan tried to grasp her in its claw, only to find itself without a claw, and then falling into two vertically-split halves. "We've got work to do, remember?"

"But Asuna-nechan! Look!" Kotaro pointed at the retreating Ork line. "They're running away. What's the point of fighting now?"

"Don't you remember a thing about these damn green guys?!" Asuna frowned at the dog-boy. "They don't retreat because they give up! They retreat to go get more of their stupid friends to come back and fight again!"

"Oh, yeah," Kotaro replied, nodding. He then looked at Negi with a smirk. "Last one to the Ork camp has to lick an Orks butt."

"You're on, Kotaro-kun." Negi smirked.

"Are these people fucking stupid?"

Both Menard and Gracie thought that, although Gracie thought that out loud to herself. The discomfort of the Orks following their formation was matched by the relief that these interlopers liked shooting one another just as much as they liked shooting the good guys. Ah well, such was the pirate.

"Damage report," Menard asked.

"Ships report some damage. Things would be worse, but they seem occupied," Gracie replied.

"Get damage control teams on the double. In the meantime, order volleys of torpedoes into their ranks, intensify current fire as well. Nothing gets through."

Thus, as the Clan-Dornalian ships moved closer to the objective, the Orks would suddenly find thrown into the mix a flurry of torpedoes along with the energy and railgun fire. A mix of conventionals with the occasional antimatter shot, several volleys flew into the ranks of Orks, where they would probably do some good.

It was utter chaos.

Ork ships, fightaz, and ordinance crisscrossed through space as the Ork fleet both fought itself and their new opponents. Ships were thrown about, torn apart, and otherwise vaporized as this new definition of Hell broke loose into the universe and said, 'Bitch, let's fuck some shit up!'

However, this new definition of Hell wasn't going to get the chance to stick around as it was, almost without warning, punched in the face, stepped on, and then curb-stomped back into submission as the Ork fleet suddenly began to reorganize. To summarize, it was as if the fleet were suddenly given purpose, and then told to attack the fleet of humies. Little by little, ship by ship, the fleet began to return its attention back to their true opponent. When the Clan-Dornalian fleet saw what was leading them, they would soon known fear.

For it was the largest ship in the Clan arsenal that now bore down upon them with unconstrained fury. The Kerensky-class Battleship.

And, sure enough, Gracie barked this at her commander, in a not-so-subtle tone of voice.

"Political Officer, I'm detecting a Kerensky-class battleship coming in, hot! Additionally, all the uglies are moving in on our position! Recommend we take immediate action to avoid encirclement!"

Menard nodded and said, "Thank you, Gracie. But I have orders. Order the fleet to continue to objective at all due speed. We're close, let's not stop now. Also, instruct all ships to open fire using their heaviest ordinance on the swarm--in particular, fire waves of torpedoes and heavy ordinance they have at the Kerensky Battleship--I want it dead!"

As they inched ever closer to the planet, the Clan-Dornalians opened fire upon the Orks, sending waves of ordinance as usual into the massed numbers flying into them and sending waves of torpedoes--some of them glowing reddish, marked, "Torpedo, Singularity"--at the Kerensky. Upon contact with the enemy, the singularity torps would explode, unleashing a thirty second malestrom of gravitational force via an unstable singularity sucking in anything nearby.....

"Oi, Boss! Dem humies iz shootin' dem gravuhtee bombz agin!"

Madnob smacked the incompetent fool who had spoken to him, and then pointed to one of the nearby dakka boyz. "Shoot 'em wit da smalla dakka. It'z da red, flashy onez dat ya gotta pay uhtenshun to."

"Roight, boss," the Dakka Boy replied.

As the missiles continued on their path towards the Ork fleet, the Kerensky's point defense guns suddenly blasted to life, sixty millimeter shells and pulse lasers tearing swathes of missiles to shreds in nearly an instant. The other ships, seeing what their flagship was doing, took the initiative to do the same. Yet, while this significantly reduced their losses, the Orks still took serious damage across the board considering the fact that the ships they were using were patch-work ships instead of their original counterparts. All in all, maybe about half of the ships within firing range of the Clan Dornalian fleet were now in-op, and that wasn't saying much.

The Kerensky, however, wasn't about to let the attack slide, either. As if to emphasize the retaliatory 'fuck you' they began with the their lighter, yet still really heavy, anti-capital ship weapons, the pair of Hyper PPCs began to glow rather brightly as they began the process of overcharging. To make matters worse, the smaller ships were now inadvertently creating a screen for the larger ship by passing in front of it. Granted, this also forced them to suffer friendly fire from their flagship from time to time, but it was worth it to watch the 'da big ZZZZZZAP' that was soon to come up.

As the missiles continued on their path towards the Ork fleet, the Kerensky's point defense guns suddenly blasted to life, sixty millimeter shells and pulse lasers tearing swathes of missiles to shreds in nearly an instant. The other ships, seeing what their flagship was doing, took the initiative to do the same. Yet, while this significantly reduced their losses, the Orks still took serious damage across the board considering the fact that the ships they were using were patch-work ships instead of their original counterparts. All in all, maybe about half of the ships within firing range of the Clan Dornalian fleet were now in-op, and that wasn't saying much.

The Kerensky, however, wasn't about to let the attack slide, either. As if to emphasize the retaliatory 'fuck you' they began with the their lighter, yet still really heavy, anti-capital ship weapons, the pair of Hyper PPCs began to glow rather brightly as they began the process of overcharging. To make matters worse, the smaller ships were now inadvertently creating a screen for the larger ship by passing in front of it. Granted, this also forced them to suffer friendly fire from their flagship from time to time, but it was worth it to watch the 'da big ZZZZZZAP' that was soon to come up.

"What the shit?" Menard couldn't help but mumble to himself these words, as he saw the Hyper PPCs charging up, and the friendlies going to it like a moth to the flame. Were these pirates stupid? That pretty much ensured they'd get hurt, at the least.

"Grace, we need to shoot the Kerensky before it acts. What can we do?" Menard asked calmly.

"Well, they seem to have bunched themselves into a corner. I wouldn't engage the units in front." Parsing over a map, the cute uniformed avatar promptly advised, "Advise increase in elevation using Clan units, have them open fire. Harden our shields and defenses, I want NOTHING TO GET THROUGH!"

Menard replied, "I'm in charge here, Grace," with a laugh. He then said, "Okay. Increase speed, instruct all units to get out of the way of the blast's path, whilst staying in formation and keeping on course. Shoot the sumbitch!"

Thus, a rain of fire emerged, as the formations sought to move out of the presumed path of the Hyper PPC blasts and opened up on the Kerensky itself, trying to miss the smaller ships.

Missing the smaller ships was the hard part. They seemed to be everywhere at once, and small explosions began to dot the space-scape, lighting up the arena for them in such a fashion that the only thing that told them that the Kerensky was still there was the pair of enormous particle spheres forming at the nose of the behemoth ship.

And then they were released.

The two spheres streaked forth towards the combined fleet, tearing through the Kerensky's own ranks just to rack in an intended kill. It would become clear, though, that the main target was Menard's own ship. The two spheres were closing the distance, vaporizing small-craft and other Ork ships until...

WHAM-BOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

The two spheres impacted a Patriot. Specifically, it was Aaron's ship. At the very last second, his ship had managed to place itself between Menard's ship and the spheres, blasting two enormous holes in the massive, three-kilometer-long ship. There were no final words as the ship's reactors over-clocked, and then detonated the ship in a fiery, cacophonous explosion.

"Blast! It misst!" Madnob pounded his fist down where a poor, unfortunate grot happened to be, smashing it into a blood stain on the raised platform. "Charge da zzzap guns again!"

"Roight, boss!"

Menard's forces reported the explosion, and how the debris was flying all over the Place--though frankly, the rumbling and impacts on his own vessel, combined with Gracie's whining, convinced him something was wrong. He tried hailing Aaron--to no avail.

"Damnit," he muttered. It became clear the Kerensky had to go down, and soon. He couldn't afford any more losses, especially of valuable personnel that belonged to say, other people's navies/merchant marine fleets. That wasn't going to look good come next Ethics Agency review.

"Gracie...."

The AI chirped, "Yes, PO?"

"What's the distance to the origin of those blasts?"

"Six hundred thousand kilometers, Comrade Commissar."

Menard then began thinking. That ship needed to go down. And quick....otherwise, more of his men would be in jeopardy. On the other hand....he couldn't fucking well leave them alone. The situation was grave enough for the narrator to use expletives, indeed.

"Gracie, what's the likelihood of success of a sortie?"

Gracie immediately blurted, "Fucking eeew, NO!"

Menard frowned, before Gracie coughed and said, "It won't work. At Six Hundred thousand Kilometers away, with our numbers, it won't work. Those blasts were probably meant for the Uttar Pradesh, and its safe to assume they'll fire again if need be!"

He then issued an order.

"All units. Focus fire on repelling the enemy forces, as much as you can muster--keep up the special ordinance, I want nanite and canister shot on those things, don't lean as much on our singularities and antimatter--we have but so much of those, send some of those at the Kerensky class out there though. Stay in formation. Contact the planet below get a SITREP...I wanna know what the hell is going on down there!"

The fight above the planet had now become even more ferocious than before. With the loss of their previous commander, the Clan portion of the fleet had gone into a frenzy, beginning to rush past the Dornalian ships despite any protests. While they were engaging multiple units, their focus was now upon the Kerensky for it was now their source of revenge.

"Boss, doze humies iz chargin' us!"

WHACK! Another smacked subordinate began cowering in fear as Madnob stood over him. "Don' jus' sit dere an' tawk abou' it! Shoot 'em ded!"

The Kerensky was quick to charge the oncoming Clanners, its own weapons now firing upon them. Around the massive battleship, smaller Ork ships followed suit, taking shots at the oncoming fleet whilst they, inadvertently, acted as a barrier to prevent the Dornalians from actually making a decent dent on the massive battleship.

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

"Sir, incoming transmission from the Dornalians." An Ostian officer turned his head from his station at the command center inside of Ostia City, looking over to the Khan.

"Patch it through," Jaime said, his attention still focused on his station, watching with satisfaction as the Orks were slowly driven back entirely.

The fight above the planet had now become even more ferocious than before. With the loss of their previous commander, the Clan portion of the fleet had gone into a frenzy, beginning to rush past the Dornalian ships despite any protests. While they were engaging multiple units, their focus was now upon the Kerensky for it was now their source of revenge.

"Boss, doze humies iz chargin' us!"

WHACK! Another smacked subordinate began cowering in fear as Madnob stood over him. "Don' jus' sit dere an' tawk abou' it! Shoot 'em ded!"

The Kerensky was quick to charge the oncoming Clanners, its own weapons now firing upon them. Around the massive battleship, smaller Ork ships followed suit, taking shots at the oncoming fleet whilst they, inadvertently, acted as a barrier to prevent the Dornalians from actually making a decent dent on the massive battleship.

"Fuck!" Menard now was having a colossal aneurysm, or was about to. The death of their commander somehow forced the Clans into a frenzy. He couldn't blame them, but frankly, as a military civilization, he thought they knew better.

"Move in to cover the Clanners...fire canister shot, let's go!"

With that, the Dornalians proceeded to move to support their allies. The masses of opposing Ork vessels would block their attempts to hit the Kerensky, but they could help out their allies by drawing the heat from the Clanners. They opened with massive broadsides at the smaller ships, and threw out canister shot, sending high-velocity clusters of flak out from massive shotgunlike shots that careened into the Ork ranks. In the meantime, the Dornalians began moving to gain a good firing position on the Kerensky, so they could do more....

"Sir, incoming transmission from the Dornalians." An Ostian officer turned his head from his station at the command center inside of Ostia City, looking over to the Khan.

"Patch it through," Jaime said, his attention still focused on his station, watching with satisfaction as the Orks were slowly driven back entirely.

Menard asked Jaime simply, as the battle raged around him, "Khan, it is good to see your forces are holding out. What is their status?"

"We are doing well, in fact," Jaime replied, cycling through the various feeds of the battlefields. He took notice of the battle going on up in high orbit. "My men seem quite angry."

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

While the Clan ships were more than devastating, it was the Dornalians that sealed the deal. The canister shots were more than a match against the patch-work ships, tearing into them like they were not but paper dolls. Ork ships clashed against Clan ships as the two lines finally met, ships plowing into one another and forcing those ships to engage in fierce close-quarters combat while in their death throes.

One particular ship, a Saber-class frigate, had managed to lodge itself into the side of the Kerensky. Aboard the two ships, Orks and Clan warriors dueled for supremacy as the two ships continued to fire at various other ships, including themselves. Madnob was personally in the thick of it, enraged that these stupid humies were now in his way of the perfect WAAAGH!!!

"You humies iz gonna pay fer dis!" Madnob cleaved an Elemental in two, felling the powerful warrior, Battle Armor and all.

"We are doing well, in fact," Jaime replied, cycling through the various feeds of the battlefields. He took notice of the battle going on up in high orbit. "My men seem quite angry."

Menard nodded and said, "Regrettably, Khan, Star Commodore Aaron Jorgensen is no longer with us. It seems the barbarians at the gates destroyed his vessel--telemetry indicates that his Patriot moved in front of us, perhaps to take the proverbial bullet for us. Now, his men are rather angered by the enemy, and wish to take the fight to them."

While the Clan ships were more than devastating, it was the Dornalians that sealed the deal. The canister shots were more than a match against the patch-work ships, tearing into them like they were not but paper dolls. Ork ships clashed against Clan ships as the two lines finally met, ships plowing into one another and forcing those ships to engage in fierce close-quarters combat while in their death throes.

One particular ship, a Saber-class frigate, had managed to lodge itself into the side of the Kerensky. Aboard the two ships, Orks and Clan warriors dueled for supremacy as the two ships continued to fire at various other ships, including themselves. Madnob was personally in the thick of it, enraged that these stupid humies were now in his way of the perfect WAAAGH!!!

"You humies iz gonna pay fer dis!" Madnob cleaved an Elemental in two, felling the powerful warrior, Battle Armor and all.

Menard's success spurred him to move closer to the Kerensky, continuing to fire the canister shot as he did so, since it seemed to work so well at ripping into the lines of Ork vessels. When he got to within sufficent range, he unleashed a volley of fire into the Kerensky, targeting its rear with a mix of conventional torpedoes and Demolisher Gun fire.

He then decided to support the Saber stuck in the side of the enemy vessel. A site-site transport of some high explosives was arranged in the hallways near the Clan ranks that were filled with Orks. When the explosives went off, Marines and Kurosawa Power Armor would follow in full force, the whole lot armed in good order with boarding shotguns, gauss rifles, Gauss SAWs and plenty of grenades, Railcannons, machineguns and plasma to spare, giving all they had into the enemy lines. This even with the Kerensky's guns being targeted by the Dornalian Fleet as it moved about to rake the enemy behemoth and its allies with fire.

Jaime went silent for a moment before speaking again. "That is less than satisfactory, but that which is shall be."

Jaime continued to run through dozens upon dozens of reports along with one of his AI assistants. At this point, he'd decided to focus his attention on the space battle going on between the allied fleet and the Orks. That's when an MSNM window popped open on his display panel.

Empress said:
Pull the fleet back. The planet is secure. Operation "Titan" is go.

Jaime sighed, flipping a reply back to the woman.

Khan said:
Aff.

"Political Officer Michael Menard, I would advise that you pull your fleet into low orbit five minutes ago. Order a holder fleet to keep the Orks at bay. Those of our ships that choose to martyr themselves may do so."

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

The close quarters fighting within both the Saber and the Kerensky was fierce, brutal, and devastating. Orks clashed with Dornalian and Clan forces, and there didn't seem to be any end to them, either. As it was, Madnob was fiercely cleaving his way into the Saber, intent on making every single humie pay for this inconvenience.

"Get outta mah way," the Ork roared, shoulder checking and slamming a trio of Clan soldiers into a bulkhead, crushing their skeletal structures into a fine, powdery jello before sweeping his choppa wide and slashing an Elemental open, killing the soldier within.

Around him, his boyz were pummeling, chopping, slashing, and shooting everything in their path, their morale so high that it mad crack addicts look sober. Even the Dornalians would be feeling the heat as Orks started trying to latch onto their ships and board them.

And even as the Dornalians tried to disable the massive behemoth, there were so many smaller guns that it made it impossible not to take damage just by getting in close to the ship. Missile launchers, Naval-class Large Lasers, even the point-defense pulse lasers and Rotary ACs were trying to tear their way into the Dornalian ships. All the while, the other Ork ships were pushing their way closer to their flagship, intent on getting into the thick of it rather than just sit there and die by the massive guns that were tearing into the thousands-strong fleet in orbit over the planet.

"Political Officer Michael Menard, I would advise that you pull your fleet into low orbit five minutes ago. Order a holder fleet to keep the Orks at bay. Those of our ships that choose to martyr themselves may do so."

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

The close quarters fighting within both the Saber and the Kerensky was fierce, brutal, and devastating. Orks clashed with Dornalian and Clan forces, and there didn't seem to be any end to them, either. As it was, Madnob was fiercely cleaving his way into the Saber, intent on making every single humie pay for this inconvenience.

"Get outta mah way," the Ork roared, shoulder checking and slamming a trio of Clan soldiers into a bulkhead, crushing their skeletal structures into a fine, powdery jello before sweeping his choppa wide and slashing an Elemental open, killing the soldier within.

Around him, his boyz were pummeling, chopping, slashing, and shooting everything in their path, their morale so high that it mad crack addicts look sober. Even the Dornalians would be feeling the heat as Orks started trying to latch onto their ships and board them.

And even as the Dornalians tried to disable the massive behemoth, there were so many smaller guns that it made it impossible not to take damage just by getting in close to the ship. Missile launchers, Naval-class Large Lasers, even the point-defense pulse lasers and Rotary ACs were trying to tear their way into the Dornalian ships. All the while, the other Ork ships were pushing their way closer to their flagship, intent on getting into the thick of it rather than just sit there and die by the massive guns that were tearing into the thousands-strong fleet in orbit over the planet.

OOC: Apologies for post quality.

IC:

The situation was clearly becoming close--though the boarding parties held, the waves of Orks proved more than enough challenge for the normally trigger happy Dornalians. The attempts to board the Dornalian vessels were particularly nasty, and though shielding held and Emergency Procedures put into effect--namely, the Orks would find their access restricted by flak and other such point defenses, blast doors, drone guns, and sailors armed with shotguns and all sorts of weaponry--things would be difficult, especially with the hordes incoming, and the fire from the Kerensky.

Fortunately for the Allies, the situation now called for disengagement that would likely enable them to break off. Kerensky had ordered Menard to fall back to the planet. The order was thus relayed.

"Attention all units. This is PO Menard. We have been ordered by the Khan to fall back to the orbit above the planet. All ships and personnel who wish to continue engagement with the enemy presence may do so. Sapporo Prefecture, Bayern, Castille-y-Leon, British Columbia and Cape Province, as well as several Clan ships (OOC: Fill in the blanks) are to stay behind and provide rearguard coverage. The rest of the personnel and ships are hereby ordered to fall back with all due speed."

The Dornalians then, executed the order along with the Clans. To be frank, some mutinied and stayed....most, however, obeyed orders and left with Menard and the bulk of his forces to defend the planet as ordered by Jaime....

With the Kerensky disengaged (although the Saber and her crew had no choice but to stay behind and provide the Dornalians with a distraction), several of the Clan ships broke off with the Dornalians, although these were few. Two Patriots, five Sabers, and three Cerberus, barely ten percent of the fleet followed the Dornalian ships back towards the planet. The others, however, stood their ground, epithets and oaths to the Founder roaring over the communications network as the Orks bore down on those that continued to fight, completely ignoring what they were considering to be 'da weak humies.'

As the fleet descended further and further into the planet, the final Stonehenge defense system provided cover for them, tearing apart any Ork ships that decided that playing the part of the wolf was the smart idea. Once the fleet reached one hundred kilometers until atmospheric reentry, they were golden, the Orks still preoccupied with the distracting fleet. There was no escape for them now, either, as they were outnumbered ten to one and were completely encircled. The Clan ships saluted those that had sacrificed themselves, and then began descending into the atmosphere of the planet.

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

Ostia was quiet. No airships moved through the skies, no people moved through her streets. Wind whispered through the deserted city, testifying to the lack of living bodies that once populated this fair, floating city...

And then there was a bright flash. Through the clouds below the city, a bright light could be seen to one side. Then another bright flash at another point. And then another, and another, until a full hexagram had been formed underneath and around the city. More flashes occurred, forming a pentagram around and through the hexagram. The light was so blinding that it could be seen from orbit on a sunny day.

Across the planet, similar scenarios were occurring at other major focal points of magic, creating a light show upon the planet that people with no experience with the planet of Mundus Magicus could describe or comprehend. It was as if a god were blessing the planet, protecting it.

A communication to the Dornalians would break the awe and wonderment of the event.

"I would advise that you enter the atmosphere," the voice of Jaime said. "We are about to take our leave from this sector of space."

Political Officer Menard now faced the unpleasant reality that he not only lost five vessels to an unknown enemy force which clearly wasn't just an ordinary pirate force--a slavering barbarian horde would better fit these monsters for a sobriquet--but also that he would have to now enter the atmosphere. The situation was relatively unappetizing, and something which would demand explanation when he reestablished contact with San Diego.

He then asked Gracie, "Grace--can we enter the atmosphere?"

Putting on a scientist's outfit, Gracie began crunching numbers on a comical calculator. She then said, "Well.....the Mao Zedong Mark IIIa ships, frankly, weren't built to enter atmospheres for extended periods. In fact, the specs rate them for only spending relatively short period--"

"Well, you heard the nice man. We have to get into the atmosphere. Frankly....it seems suspicious....but then again, we're agaisnt the wall here and to stay seems dangerous," Menard said to Gracie.

"Well, let's hope he doesn't make us wait too long, those energy readings seem strange, if somewhat helpful--I'd wager they're our best chance, these people know their planet better than we. I'll start the clock," Gracie said skeptically.

With that, Menard's ships entered the atmosphere, their forms creaking a bit more than usual as they tried to contend with the new pressures of an atmosphere and gravity, with the additional nav hazard of populated towns and farms below. Still, they held their bit, and, Menard radioed Jaime.

"We're in, Khan. Begin your manuever."

And as soon as the Dornalian ships had gotten within the safe-zone, there was a blinding flash of light. Across the planet, seals, incantation circles, and other sutra played out on the landscape and within the skies. The planet had literally become a shining beacon across the Clan sector, and a faint light could now be seen through the nebula that surrounded the Clan sector.

Streams of ethereal energy soared around the planet, tearing apart any of the Ork ships that tried to close in on the planet. The planet was growing brighter every second, and after about a minute or so, the planet was bright enough to drown out its own star entirely, and everyone across the galaxy that wasn't shielded by the positioning of the center of the galaxy would see what seemed to be a supernova.

One more brilliant flash, and then the planet was gone...

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

The Verulean system...

A binary system that housed few planets. The system lied half-way between Dornalian and Clan territory, and it hadn't been claimed by anyone as it was considered insignificant. The few planets that had formed around these twin stars were measly balls of rock that, at first survey, held nothing of value to anyone.

Then the most odd thing happened. At some point between the first and second planets, there was a bright flash of light, and then an Earth-like planet that hadn't been there before appeared. Planet-side, people began emerging from buildings and shelters across the planet, assessing their damages and beginning to pick up the mess left in the wake of the Ork incursion.

In the control room, Jaime sighed and sat back in his chair. They were out of the frying pan and the fire. He silently thanked the Founder for their fortune, and then tapped a button on his chair.

"All ships, return to orbit and establish a perimeter," he said. "We have escaped the Ork onslaught."

((Such a shit post, but eh.))

The Verulean system...

A binary system that housed few planets. The system lied half-way between Dornalian and Clan territory, and it hadn't been claimed by anyone as it was considered insignificant. The few planets that had formed around these twin stars were measly balls of rock that, at first survey, held nothing of value to anyone.

Then the most odd thing happened. At some point between the first and second planets, there was a bright flash of light, and then an Earth-like planet that hadn't been there before appeared. Planet-side, people began emerging from buildings and shelters across the planet, assessing their damages and beginning to pick up the mess left in the wake of the Ork incursion.

In the control room, Jaime sighed and sat back in his chair. They were out of the frying pan and the fire. He silently thanked the Founder for their fortune, and then tapped a button on his chair.

"All ships, return to orbit and establish a perimeter," he said. "We have escaped the Ork onslaught."

((Such a shit post, but eh.))

Menard and his ships wasted no time in doing so, as even with the sudden jump, the massive hulks in orbit were beginning to creak, and their AI stewardesses creaking even more loudly with a shrill complaint of "We're giving it all we got, but we can't stay too long!"

Finally, the Khan's order was heeded, and before long, the ships of the unit were in space.

A casualty count was in order, as was a star chart reckoning of the present location. As the men onboard wondered what occurred, and where they were, and why the planet suddenly shifted as if by magic, Menard knew the reason. It didn't take long for him to piece together that the Maho Caste, one of the castes of the Clans, must have done something.

He thanked them for that. Then, he asked Gracie, "SITREP?"

Gracie then said, shaking her head sadly, "We lost those five ships, sir. We're gonna have to do some explaining over to San Diego after this, eh?"

Menard nodded. Losing five ships of the Mao Zedong Mark IIIa class wasn't normally done by Political Officers, and though he had a good reason, some triggerhappy Congressman might think otherwise.

More optimistically, Gracie said, "Also....starcharts indicate we're not too far from Dornalian Space--some distance outside of New Monterrey SSR."

Menard raised an eyebrow and said, "How do you know that?"

"Asteroids correspond with previous Commissariat of Science probe expeditions. Also, I'm picking up faint EM signals. Displaying now."

At that, feeds from what looked like Dornalian Television came online, and though staticky, one could spot Inspector Whisky, aiming his dual Colt Government Pistols at Boss Ching in another episode of Hong Kong Supercop. Now, the nefarious drug lord was holding Whisky's daughter hostage, and the intrepid policeman could be heard screaming, "Drop the gun, Ching and give me back my daughter!"

The Triad boss replied, "She's too pretty. I think I'll keep her for a little while," with a psychotic grin.

Then, Menard coughed, sidelined the transmission and said, "Back to business," and then contacted Jaime as he moved to establish a perimeter.

"Khan--if I may ask--where are we?"

"One moment," the Khan replied, quickly running his fingers over the holographic display panels. After a few minutes of scanning through files and running scans on the general system, the Khan sent the data file to Menard and Gracie. "The Verulean System. It is a binary system with a pair of yellow stars much like that of Terra's. Generally lifeless, unless you count the new planet that was added to its dossier."

The Khan leaned back in his chair and sighed. "Frankly, I am amazed that the Magi pulled off their little stunt this well. We are roughly at the half-way point between our territories and, if you noticed the time, it has only been a minute since the spell performed its task."

"One moment," the Khan replied, quickly running his fingers over the holographic display panels. After a few minutes of scanning through files and running scans on the general system, the Khan sent the data file to Menard and Gracie. "The Verulean System. It is a binary system with a pair of yellow stars much like that of Terra's. Generally lifeless, unless you count the new planet that was added to its dossier."

The Khan leaned back in his chair and sighed. "Frankly, I am amazed that the Magi pulled off their little stunt this well. We are roughly at the half-way point between our territories and, if you noticed the time, it has only been a minute since the spell performed its task."

At that, Menard quietly asked Gracie, "Gracie, need a timecheck."

Gracie ran the calculations, and said simply, "Yeah. He's right. Not but an hour, and we've already lept God knows how far in the universe. Given this is the halfway point, he says.....I'd say we've made and/or broken a few records for planetary travel."

Bringing up the facts, they indeed matched the Commissariat of Science records, although they were just listed as somewhat anonymous stars in a binary arrangement.

Menard nodded. Turning to the Khan, he said, "So it seems, Khan. So, the question remains--where do we go from here?"

"Rebuilding and preparing for the next onslaught," the Khan replied, reaching for a cup of warm coffee that was brought to him by a Magi. Taking a sip of it, he continued. "Although we have only had experience with Orks for the past few months, we have learned that Orks never truly retreat or go away. They just leave to go get more of their kind to come back and cause more havoc."

Jaime looked at the map of the galaxy before him, focusing his attention of the place they once called home. "We were only the beginning. May the Founder watch over any fool stupid enough to venture near the nebula..."

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

"Dey'z gawn, boss. Nunna da space boyz can see dem. Da werld jus' dis- disa- vanished."

Madnob stood above his boyz on the command deck of his Kerensky, the ship undergoing heavy repairs from the previous fight. Tekboyz, Mekboyz, and Gretchin skittered about across the hull of the ship, taking parts from the Saber that was lodged in the hull of the larger ship to patch the other holes and damage points on the larger ship.

"Wut abowt da othuh humies dat came wit' dat fleet?"

"Dey'z gawn, too, boss."

"Blast!" Madnob pounded his fist into the bulkhead, causing Gretchin around him to flee in terror while the other boyz quickly went back to work. "Dey ruined my planz fer da purfekt WAAAGH!!!"

Madnob then stepped - stomped - towards a view port, eying the wreckage floating around. His eyes fixed upon the nearly-intact Dornalian ships, and then a crooked grin played across his face.

"Get da boyz," he said. "Go fix dem othuh humies' ships. We can use dem fer da next foight."

Much of Mundus Magicus had been picked up. Cities had been rebuilt, defensive systems had been overhauled, vehicles and equipment had been salvaged to make new ones. While trade had not begun to resume fully with the Dornalians, the joint leaders of Mundus Magicus had decided that finding new resource nodes was the top priority. With the Clans having the only means of interstellar and faster-than-light travel, the joint leadership turned to the remaining Khan of the Clans to assist in this endeavor.

Jaime, understanding the gravity of the situation, made no protest against the idea of using Clan Warriors as resource surveyors. While his own people did protest this 'outrage,' it did not take Jaime long to bring them to see reason. With his people now back on track, the Clans began their efforts to find new sources of income.

First stop: the planets and moons of the Verulean system!

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

Half-way across the galaxy, all had been quiet near the gateway to the former Clan Sector. The usual nebula that surrounded the Clan Sector showed no signs of activity...until now.

At first, it would be unnoticeable, barely a blip upon any probe's sensors. Then, slowly, but surely, the blips began to increase in number. From the nebula, like a swarm of angry hornets from their nest, the Orks broke through the nebula. Hundreds of ships of varying classes (and operational conditions) began to conglomerate near the edge of the nebula. More and more, they came, swarming around a single point as they waited for more of their kind to arrive.

As thousands more came flooding through the nebula, any probe within five hundred light years of the nebula would pick up the largest disturbance they had ever recorded. The nebula began to fold backwards as a massive object passed through it. Lightning cracked as the nebula tried to pull the massive object back in, but to no avail. What had emerged would probably be considered the largest Space Hulk to ever exist, easily dwarfing the largest of the average ships (the Kerensky) hundreds of times over.

The features of the massive Space Hulk were very obviously Orkish, but anyone that had knowledge of Clan technology who had been there to see the vessel personally would be able to pick out the individual space stations that overlapped one another. 'Border Watchers,' Zeus-class Fleet Command stations, Epsilon-class Battle Stations, every ship class of the Clans, buildings from various cities of various planets, entire asteroid stations, Colonies (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/O%27Neill_cylinder) purchased from the Principality of Zeon; so many different ships and objects had been patched together to make this ship. If one didn't know better, they would have confused it with an Eldar Craftworld for its sheer size.

Aboard this vessel, within a makeshift command deck, Madnob stood over his mighty 'WAAAGHship.' Below him, in contained spaces that the Mekboyz called 'habatatz,' millions upon millions of Orks from the dozens of different worlds that the Orks had taken from the Clans stood ready to fight, throwing themselves into massive brawls that led into full fledged fights. It took the strongest of them all to maintain the constantly fractured order and not lead to an internal WAAAGH!!!

Madnob smiled, his broken teeth showing in the low-light. Around him, other, lesser bosses and Mekboyz watched with him.

"It'z bootiful, eh?" Madnob glanced to one of the Orks, and they all muttered some kind of agreement. Turning around to look at them all, a glint in his eye. "Den whut say we get dis WAAAGH!!! on da road, den?!"

The other bosses roared their approval.

After several hours of waiting around for the rest of the fleet, the fleet gathered closely to the massive Space Hulk. Then, in a blinding flash, the Space Hulk, and the fleet, rocketed towards the center of the galaxy.

(OOC: IC to come soon. My FT nation's heavily influenced by 40k, and home to a few 40k races. Don't be surprised if we know what Orks are.)

OOC: Parts done with Skagura's permission.

Somewhere on the Dornalian Border....


The watchman working the scanners was working his beat, monitoring ship traffic, his finger on the FTLi generators ready to stifle anyone who was going to invade. Border patrol on the edge of the planets near New Wuhan was boring as all hell, but then again, no one wanted to do border duty--he just happened to be given it.

Chewing on a jelly donut, he looked at the scanners, which then registered a gradually increasing series of blips and dots. Alarmed, he called his commander.

"Command, this is Sgt. Richert. I'm picking up some wierd shit on my radar--anybody fix these things recently?"

Command replied, "Sergeant, these machines just got fixed a week ago. What is it?"

"I'm detecting a gradually increasing...holy jesus. A huge glob of units just assembled outside our borders, heading this way!"

"Feed the telemetry to me."

The act done, the commander muttered, "Holy shitfuck. Well. Activate the generators, inform JRCCC of the anomaly."

"Aye, sir."

"And stop eating those damn donuts. Maybe that's why your machine's fucked up."

Sighing, Richert began sending out the usual flashmessage to JRCCC....

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

The big gob of Ork activity, motivated by Madnob to begin storming wherever it pretty well damn pleased as long as it headed to the center of the universe, happened to pick Dornalian space for this endeavor. Frankly, there wasn't a good reason--it sufficed that there was something to do.

The Orks would inevitably begin to feel the effects of FTLi working on them. Not that it mattered of course. Orks being Orks, they shrugged off the hails and incoming fire and plowed into the vaunted MacIntyre line, mines and all. Despite the force of ships that would quickly attempt to assemble to stop the Ork horde, and the massive amounts of mines slamming into the WAAAGH!, the horde seemed relatively unscathed as it stormed onwards to whatever civilized world was near. Even a good stout firing line seemed to fall--the Orks were just that fast and well armed!

And unfortunately, that civilized world was New Wuhan and New Magnitogorsk. As alarms rang on the planets below, and the orbital defenses went online, the reserves from JRCCC moved to react to the invaders. Within a short period of time, several fleets could be seen moving in to reinforce the local Naval Home Guard units that were simply broken through as the WAAAGH! pushed onwards, not caring for anything such as containment or common sense.

Their commander, Admiral von Lettow-Vorbeck, could be seen leading one of the mighty Mao Zedong Mark IV battleships, along with three, four others, as they moved to check the invader.

The forecast from JRCCC was that reinforcements weren't too likely. Just as well. von Lettow-Vorbeck would hold out as best as he could, and defeat these barbarians in his way.

As the massive Space Hulk pulled into range of New Wuhan, the fleet that had sought sanctuary within the large, bulky craft began to emerge from its confinement, pouring more ships out into the fray. It soon became very clear how serious the threat was,as the ships began to number into the thousands, and they were quickly spreading across this sector of space. While some were heading towards New Magnitogorsk, it seemed that New Wuhan would be the center of this conflict...

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

"We'z comin' up on da planet, boss!"

Madnob pounded his way up to the front of the command deck, nearly plastering himself to the makeshift window as he looked upon the dot that was New Wuhan. He could taste the spoils of war already, the trophies to be had, the new Ork Empire that he would make of this sector. It was all ripe for the taking.

"Get us spinnin' 'round da planet! Start droppin' rokks so da boyz can get ta foight'n!"

"Aye, boss!"

As the Space Hulk descended upon New Wuhan, the fleet accompanying it began to spread out, quickly engaging any defensive fleet lines or battle stations that got in their way. As per their usual, the Orks made every attempt to get in close, preferring to try and board their opponents' ships and take the fight to them directly rather than rely on their big guns on their ships do the work for them.

Almost simultaneously to that, one would notice that, as the Space Hulk pulled in towards the planet, several, massive pieces began to seemingly break away from the Hulk itself. Varying in size, shape, and topography, these pieces began to take slightly different paths towards New Wuhan, several looking like they were on a direct collision course for the planet itself. If anyone took the time to scan these big pieces of dirt and metal, they'd notice that they were carrying thousands of Orks each, and the total number of descending objects was slowly making its way into the twenties...

(OOC: I'm going to RP the Orks in my system for this post only. I'll change it if you find it unacceptable.)
Ramilies-Class Star Fort Indomitable
Kor'vaa System

"Unknown contacts crossing restricted military space. Entering minimum range in t-minus 5 minutes." The cool female voice of the blonde-haired comms operator spoke clearly and concisely into her vox-bead. The constant whine of the alarms permeated the area, adding to the background noise of the command center.

"All ships will take defensive formation Gamma." Another operator, a young man, added, eyes glued on his auspex screen, watching as the unsettling number of red blips approached their arc of minimum rage.

"We will be fully deployed in three minutes." Came yet another response.

"What's the status of the main guns?" The base commandant, a tall, lean man in his mid-40's, asked.

"All gunnery crews report ready, commander." An officer reported.

"Scramble all fighters, and activate void-shields. This is our main defensive fortification in this system; we can't let a single enemy through!"

"Yes, sir!" The command center was abuzz with activity. Operators jabbered naval jargon back and fourth on their headsets between themselves the deployed defensive fleet, and the large viewscreen in front of them flashed the time until the enemy entered minimum range.

"Enemy will reach minimum range in t-minus ten. Nine..." The young blonde operator spoke up once again, counting down to the inevitable. Her auspex screen displayed an uncomfortable number of red blips closing in on the friendly green sphere.

"...Six. Five. Four..."

Everyone in the room held their breath, staring at the main viewscreen,

"Three. Two. One. Contact in range!"

"Open fire!"

The voice of the base commandant was quickly outdone by the massive, indescribable noise of every gun, missile, torpedo, and lance battery opening fire all at once. Flying past the formed-up mass of the defense fleet, they traveled into the infinite blackness of space, until a number of explosions could be seen in the distance.

Then came the return volley. While not as organized, it was certainly just as effective. Shots ripped through fighter formations, dissolving them in the massive force of lance beams. Larger capital ships, gaping holes punched through their hulls, went up in flames. Enemy fighters, quick and darting, zoomed forward, only to be met by their Imperial counterparts, and a tangling dogfight ensued.

Then, the enemy's main force came into view. Well, what could be called a main force. The enemy ships didn't seem to have a uniform design. Most were just scrapped together hulls from different ships, bristling with guns. Others came from a myriad of what seemed to be captured and converted hulls. Angenterian capital ships surged forward, their main batteries giving the enemy all they got. The only problem was numbers. The enemy outnumbered them in droves, and it was clear that the Imperials were being pushed back.
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"Dats it, Boyz!" The towering Ork warboss shouted at the top of his lungs, slamming his mighty choppa into the metal floor. "Rip dem humies ta shredz!" The Ork snarked, a smirk coming across his green, pig-like features. "I'z gonna be famus for dis one! More famus den even dat Madnob an' 'is Boyz! Yeah! 'oo needz Madnob? I'z in dis for meself!" His gaze reared toward his ork mob below him. "Getz me da humie in charge! I wanna see 'is face 'efore we get 'im!"

"Roight, Boss!" came the response. A few seconds later, the Imperial Commander appeared on the jagged and cracked viewscreen in front of them, anger written on his face.

The warboss roared with laughter! "How'z dis for a foight, humie git!"

"I have nothing to say to you, Ork." The commander said with disdain. "Your kind deserves nothing but death."

"Whateva, humie!" The Warboss grinned "You should be proud! You'z da one dat's gonna make me famus. Maybe i'll put yaz on me boss...oi! Lookit me when I'm talkin to yaz!

The commander's face turned back towards the screen as one of his officers marched away. This time, he was the one smirking. "On the contrary, Ork. I believe that you are the one that will decorate my wall." The commandant made a motion to his crew, and the transmission cut off.

"Oi!" The Warboss shouted, smashing a passing grot with a swing of his axe. "Get back here, ya humie git! I'z da boss, and you'z-"

Then, in a flash of light, a lance beam smashed right through the bridge section of the Ork hulk, disintegrating Warboss and crew in a single go.

Kor'vaa System

With the Warboss dead, the Orks in the system began to reel against their opponents' counter-offensive, incapable of properly coordinating their attack without their more intelligent and (pseudo) charismatic leader. Within hours, the offensive crumbled, and the Orks scattered to the wind, many of them leaving to join Madnob's WAAAGH!!! in hopes of finding a better leader and a better fight. Still, there were pockets of Orkish resistance here and there. Asteroid fields and the moons of gas giants were the primary hold-outs of the Orks left in the Kor'vaa system, but it wasn't like the local garrison couldn't handle it alone.

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Elsewhere in the galaxy...

It was a slow, but gradual, process. As word of Madnob's successful WAAAGH!!! against the Clans reached other Ork tribes and fortresses across the galaxy, attacks against civilized worlds and trading vessels became more frequent. As time passed, the attacks grew bolder, with some areas of the galaxy seeing entire worlds being assaulted in a semi-coordinated fashion. The attacks even began to include military installations, patrol fleets, and, on the rare occasion, actual battle fleets.

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Rinsing Territory

In an untouched sector of space, a small Ork war band consisting of barely a dozen ships suddenly dropped out of the Warp. The ships sat around for a few moments, as if the crews were attempting to find their bearings, and then they jumped into the Warp once more. Anyone paying attention to their sensor station would pick up the disturbance, although any evidence other than a Warp trail would be non-existent.

As the massive Space Hulk pulled into range of New Wuhan, the fleet that had sought sanctuary within the large, bulky craft began to emerge from its confinement, pouring more ships out into the fray. It soon became very clear how serious the threat was,as the ships began to number into the thousands, and they were quickly spreading across this sector of space. While some were heading towards New Magnitogorsk, it seemed that New Wuhan would be the center of this conflict...

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"We'z comin' up on da planet, boss!"

Madnob pounded his way up to the front of the command deck, nearly plastering himself to the makeshift window as he looked upon the dot that was New Wuhan. He could taste the spoils of war already, the trophies to be had, the new Ork Empire that he would make of this sector. It was all ripe for the taking.

"Get us spinnin' 'round da planet! Start droppin' rokks so da boyz can get ta foight'n!"

"Aye, boss!"

As the Space Hulk descended upon New Wuhan, the fleet accompanying it began to spread out, quickly engaging any defensive fleet lines or battle stations that got in their way. As per their usual, the Orks made every attempt to get in close, preferring to try and board their opponents' ships and take the fight to them directly rather than rely on their big guns on their ships do the work for them.

Almost simultaneously to that, one would notice that, as the Space Hulk pulled in towards the planet, several, massive pieces began to seemingly break away from the Hulk itself. Varying in size, shape, and topography, these pieces began to take slightly different paths towards New Wuhan, several looking like they were on a direct collision course for the planet itself. If anyone took the time to scan these big pieces of dirt and metal, they'd notice that they were carrying thousands of Orks each, and the total number of descending objects was slowly making its way into the twenties...

The Dornalian fleet, it seemed, had their work cut out for them. Lettow-Vorbeck's Gracie unit was shocked at the sheer number of units--no Dornalian fleet had possibly faced a fleet this large since....well....it was rather hard to say. Only that it was rather unprecedented.

Likewise, Lettow-Vorbeck immediately commandered any and all ships, and began to counterattack. The Orks would find their Dornalian enemies tough opponents--tough perhaps, as the Imperial Navy that the Orks were used to smacking around. Masses of Deng Xiaoping Drone Ships, hordes of them, would block the path of the Orks, hampering easy access for them to the bigger Lin Biao Drone Controllers and the battleships of the Dornalian Navy, the venerable Mao Zedongs. Additionally, any and all ships belonging to police and Internal Security Civil Patrol units were rounded up, and put into action to fight back.

From all ships concerned emerged massed torpedo spam and energy fire spam directed at the Ork ranks as the Dornalians moved to intercept them in defensive boxes; by now, Menard's after-action reports had come in, and his lessons on defense versus massed forces had been studied by some, including Lettow-Vorbeck, who proceeded to fire nanite and canister shot into the Ork ranks, along with antimatter and singularity bombs and masses of conventional torpedoes. Frankly, there wasn't a need to pick targets--though a lot of them were directed at the Hulk, many were also thrown at the Ork ranks in general, as the fleets struggled defensively and mightily to beat the enemy back.

The planetary defenses at New Wuhan and New Magnitogorsk also went up, shielding protecting the planet, orbital defense satellites spewing out their own Demolisher Gun and torpedo spam into the enemy ranks, aiming for the massive roks that aimed for the planet.

If the satellites didn't get them, the planetary shielding--which had held against the furious Allanean atomic holocaust that first ravaged New Wuhan for a good long time before finally collapsing--would likely deny them entrance.

All the while, the Mao IVs began charging their Duplex Drive Demolisher Guns--massive cannons the size of the vaunted Huntarian Axial Lasers, and just as deadly. Lettow-Vorbeck aimed them at the Space Hulk, and awaited the confirmation for their charge....

-----------

On the surface, the citizens of New Wuhan and New Magnitogorsk evacuated to shelters and bunkers. For the Magnitogorskers, this was new--for the Wuhaners, this was a grim replay of the "Massacre," as many of the locals dubbed the Allanean attack. Many, only slightly mollified by the subsequent trials of the Allaneans and the compensation given for the attack, wondered if MacIntyre would stand up to the enemy now, this time.

Certainly, Mac was. In a press statement issued to the Dornalian media, he said simply, "Ladies and gentlemen--at approximately XXXX hours, the planets of New Wuhan and New Magnitogorsk were suddenly and deliberately attacked by an unknown, hostile force. They are not Allanean or Tauronese--however, they're extremely dangerous.

In order to prevent a catastrophe like last time, I have ordered a state of emergency around the area, with Admiral Gunter von Lettow-Vorbeck deployed to defeat the invaders with several units of the People's Navy. I have given him authorization to mobilize all armed vessels in the area. I have given him my--and your--full trust in repelling this menace. As of last report, he has made contact with enemy forces and engaged them. I can say no more besides this about the facts.

I have also authorized an investigation into how these monsters got into New Wuhan in the first place. My people, whenever your lands are invaded--whenever our defenses are penetrated--it is a matter of concern to all of us. Whoever failed to stop these ruffians will be assuredly punished, for the good of the people."

Afterwards, Mac fumed. Whoever these assholes were, it was a sign that the MacIntyre Line needed improvements--and fast!

Rinsing Territory

In an untouched sector of space, a small Ork war band consisting of barely a dozen ships suddenly dropped out of the Warp. The ships sat around for a few moments, as if the crews were attempting to find their bearings, and then they jumped into the Warp once more. Anyone paying attention to their sensor station would pick up the disturbance, although any evidence other than a Warp trail would be non-existent.

This brief visit was indeed noticed, and it attracted considerable attention. This was the first time outsiders had passed through the system since the Ten Nations had developed the technology to detect such intrusions. The Elevated Council immediately gathered for an emergency meeting to decide upon a response.

“Is this really cause for concern? These ships were just passing through the area. We have no reason to consider them a threat.”
Aron Marathi, representative of the Empire of Droplets, waved his hand airily.
“They may not even have noticed us.”

Priestess Ustrok Blazebutcher of the Snarling Plague stood, her eyes blazing red.
“’Is this cause for concern?’? ’Is this cause for concern?’?! OF COURSE it’s cause for concern!! We don’t know anything about these people! They could be reporting on our defenses even as we speak! They could be planning-”

“Enough!” The voice of Ozran Icegrip, from the League of Tangling, easily overwhelmed the goblin’s angry speech.
“We have no time for lengthy debate. If we do not act soon, the decision will be made; we will be unable to respond at all! I say we send a ship or two to follow them. If they are no threat, then no harm done. If they are, we need to know that. Either way, they already know where we are, and they can hardly object if we pay them a similar visit. The risk of following is insignificant.”

“The Ivy of Celebration will send a Longbow on this expedition.” announced that nation’s representative, Canira Scribecats.

“We’ll send a ship, too.” Ustrok continued glaring at Aron as she spoke.

“Excellent!” Ozran glanced around the table. “Anyone have a brief, simple argument to make? Then I propose a vote.”

~~~~~~~~

A few minutes later, the light cruiser CIS Stave and the Plague scout Magpie lifted into superspace and left Osatar, attempting to track the movements of the Ork war band.

The Ork fleet, however, wasn't about to stop. The nanite and canister shots were a well-founded idea, but against the sheer numbers presented, it was but a futile gesture unless used in close range sorties, and getting close enough to do that risked boarding parties from the Orks. Any Dornalian vessel closing into range for such attacks would not only have to fight the ship it was engaging, but also deal with dozens of boarding craft that their target was deploying.

The drones, however, were the ones dealing the most damage. Unfamiliar with such craft, the Orks would find their complex swarming patterns and constant swooping attacks to be harrowing to pass through. However, it didn't take Madnob long to figure out what was going on, and he was quick to have the Space Hulk itself join in the fray. Big shootas, big gunz, ZZZAP! gunz, every weapon that the Space Hulk had was brought to bear, specifically to bring down the raging swarms of drone ships that plagued the bulk of the fleet.

The roks, being...well...giant rocks, would be assailed by the Dornalian defensive platforms. In many cases, this would result in the complete obliteration of the roks themselves, although this would generally lead to massive-scale scatter-shot effects as the debris from the destroyed roks continued on its path towards New Wuhan, whether the defensive stations were in the way or not. Roks that remained intact would continue towards their objective, but only to meet their fate against the planetary shield. While the shield was keeping the planet from suffering invasion, the general size-range of the roks was a wide variation between four hundred meters and six kilometers. To make matters worse, the smaller debris from the destroyed roks would force the shield to spread out its coverage area, forcing the generators to draw more power just to feed the shield.

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Empire of Droplets, border world...

The space around the planet was quiet. Little had ever touched this sector of space being that the Empire and her allies had never made outside contact, travel in this sector was limited to the Empire itself. It seemed as though it would be another peaceful day...

Until the Orks dropped out of the Warp. After taking no more than twenty seconds to look at the planet, the Ork ships began to advance towards the planet...

The Ork fleet, however, wasn't about to stop. The nanite and canister shots were a well-founded idea, but against the sheer numbers presented, it was but a futile gesture unless used in close range sorties, and getting close enough to do that risked boarding parties from the Orks. Any Dornalian vessel closing into range for such attacks would not only have to fight the ship it was engaging, but also deal with dozens of boarding craft that their target was deploying.

The drones, however, were the ones dealing the most damage. Unfamiliar with such craft, the Orks would find their complex swarming patterns and constant swooping attacks to be harrowing to pass through. However, it didn't take Madnob long to figure out what was going on, and he was quick to have the Space Hulk itself join in the fray. Big shootas, big gunz, ZZZAP! gunz, every weapon that the Space Hulk had was brought to bear, specifically to bring down the raging swarms of drone ships that plagued the bulk of the fleet.

The drones, naturally, began falling in short order--though plenty were left, plenty were dying as well. Then again, that was the point. They were merely a screen/swarm assault unit, nothing more. Of course, now that the enemy was getting wise to the Dornalian swarms, Von Lettow-Vorbeck now began to focus attacks onto the Space Hulk.

The Dornalians in general now began to hold at medium range, moving and raking the enemy with their nanite shots that would begin eating away the enemies they made contact with along with the usual anti-matter and singularity shots and Demolisher Gun shots and such en masse, like they were doing before. At the same time, flak of all sorts was being thrown up to stop the boarding vessels, and the shields were up as well, which would deter the Orks for now. Then again, the idea of boarders made the Dornies reach for the shotguns and blast door controls.

The Mao Zedong Mark IVs, meanwhile, unleashed their Duplex Drive Demolisher Guns, concentrating all of their Axial Laser-strength cannons onto the Space Hulk in a bid to wipe out as many of the enemy ships and do as much damage to the Ork Space Hulk as possible. To join that, Von Lettow-Vorbeck threw several singularity, antimatter and nanite spreads specifiically at the Space Hulk, to begin "damage control."

The roks, being...well...giant rocks, would be assailed by the Dornalian defensive platforms. In many cases, this would result in the complete obliteration of the roks themselves, although this would generally lead to massive-scale scatter-shot effects as the debris from the destroyed roks continued on its path towards New Wuhan, whether the defensive stations were in the way or not. Roks that remained intact would continue towards their objective, but only to meet their fate against the planetary shield. While the shield was keeping the planet from suffering invasion, the general size-range of the roks was a wide variation between four hundred meters and six kilometers. To make matters worse, the smaller debris from the destroyed roks would force the shield to spread out its coverage area, forcing the generators to draw more power just to feed the shield.


The generators were working overtime, and in anticipation of failure, ground-based fighters and flak were placed on alert and atmospheric floating platform-based fighters were placed on alert. So far so good, but the locals on New Wuhan, more cynical than your average Dornalian, wondered when the sheilds would fall.....in the meantime, the defenses would track and assault the roks with zealous fury on both worlds.