((If you wanna argue, do the math: Two fleets of similar size, except one is gathered together, and one is gathered around a planet. Think about that- to be spread around a planet and blockade it, even a fleet of five hundred ships would have trouble doing so without leaving gaps. Blockading means spreading out, and that leaves you extremely vulnerable to otherwise-equal or inferior forces.)) ((Also, where are you getting all these forces? From what I've read so far, you've lost multiple armies' worth, simple canon fodder, and yet the planetary defense forces must've surely numbered in great amounts. How is it that you still have any amount of troops left to push HARDER?! Moral would be deafening low, and even the most disciplined soldiers will turn and run if one enemy kills thirty friends. The Defending force always has the advantage- they are fighting for their homes, their territory, their people. The conquering people fight for vague hopes of glory and fame, under orders and some amount of nationality. Obviously the Draconians have bloodlust added to that, but still- how are you still fighting without having to bring another fleet of troop carriers?)) Kibō-Hosh Major Warlord Hele'Streth growled in anger at their lack of response as the time flew past. Activity rose slightly again- apparently the besiegers were renewing their assault. He waved vaguely; the officers knew exactly what that meant. Fierce grins and rumbles of approval filled the air, as the fleet began moving forward to invade the planet. They knew that they had a very large tactical advantage- the enemy were spread far apart about the globe, and it would take hours for them to reassemble and come back to a full fighting force- hours that they would not have. Breaking through the blockade and reaching the planet's surface to the largest battle would be presumably easy. Better yet, the source of the unknown's transmissions and presumed flagship was situated above it. An even better bonus- take out the commanding unit and destroy the majority of the forces. Really, it was so easy. A small portion of the fleet, a dozen droneships plus eight cruisers, stayed behind with the other ships, messages being sent to them: "Refrain from hostilities against our ships and units, and we will assist you in the fight for your planet. Stand by for diplomacy; your leader has passed our tests." It was in this formation- a stubby spearhead formation- that the fleet approached the unknown's rear, moving more or less to surround the unknown's presumed flagship. It was larger than the rest, and had more wavelength traffic surrounding it, both to other points in orbit and to the surface, indicating that it was a center of communications in some way. Probably before they even noticed, the majority of the fleet opened fire with what weapons could reach to the nearest ships. Drones were deployed to counter any enemy weapons; droneships themselves flanked larger ships, or hid in their shadows. The great, multiple troop transports lumbered forwards, guarded by more droneships, moving to break atmosphere with an in-system microjump. Moments after the fleet opened fire, forty ships of the fleet disappeared and reappeared some distance from the nearest unknown ship, right above the atmosphere. It was at that point that most of the ships stopped, while less than a dozen continued on, dropping into the atmosphere at an angle, and aiming for the outskirts of the capital. Great anti-surface cannons were fired, clearing their planned landing sights, and destroying clumps of enemies. Anti-air missiles or weapons of any kind would be useless against the starships, and any emplacements big enough to worry them were taken out by the multiple accompanying cruisers and destroyers within the troop transports' guard. All over the capital city, the great hordes of Roman troops went up in ash and smoke, disappearing with great flashes of light, leaving behind shallow, wide craters. Oh, sure, the unknown could start orbital bombardment on the grounded starships, but they were meant to absorb that kind of damage. Besides, what made them weak up there made them stronger down here, and there were able to guard themselves by drones, shields, or special armor, while releasing swarms of soldiers, armor, and aircraft. It didn't take long for low-flying divebombers to take to the sky, sweeping down from the heavens to drop powerful payloads, shattering buildings and disintegrating soldiers. Some were shot down; they spiraled down into the thick hordes of Roman soldiers, covering the ground like a carpet, the rest of the ammunition going off and leaving even more dead. Really, the great hordes were just causing more casualties. Intercepted transmissions were that of the invading force talking to the defending force, and encrypted invader-to-invader communications. What could be decoded from the invaders-to-defenders was the defenders spitting abuse and saying they were only good for dying. Odd, because in the Draconians' flawed but complete honesty (flawed in that the truth leans towards draconians, and that there was a significant difference between public truth and private truth), the invaders were really falling like flies-only good for dying- while the defenders were putting up such a fight with so few that it was really quite ridiculous. As the Draconian fleet made its attack run, the Warlord ordered separate scopes- the Draconian term for long-range high-detail optic scanners, useless in space combat because of the need of position, not visible detail- to be recording the ground battle, studying tactics and saving the battle for later- likely at the cost of the invasion people's humiliation. They were winning purely by numbers and numbers alone, but even those were giving out. A bit of Draconian ordnance on their very-clumped-up groups would thin the herd significantly. His only physical response to his fleet in closing was a fierce grin, at the thought of crushing the command element of the now-an-enemy fleet, and eliminating the spearhead and powerhouse of the enemy invasion force. ((I wrote this over a period of three days, so sorry if it seems scatter-brained at times.))

The Nightmare Emperor watched with a bored expression as more ships appeared and surrounded the contingent of Battlefleet Nox he had brought to help relieve Dullahan. Normally he would've left Dullahan's defense to one of his generals such Jer'rahd Kaisur, known by the local population as the Daemon of Dullahan thanks to his past encounter with the planet. But this, this required something more. While the enemy forces themselves were not very impressive, the obvious use of Daemonic powers to supply and strengthen their numbers needed to be dealt with. As the enemy fleets fired their bombardments, the Nightmare Emperor's eyes began to glow with a dark energy, a grin forming on his face. Suddenly, the entire Roa'marii fleet was enveloped in a dark energy, the ships shields being replaced and feeding off the Daemonic powers emanating forth from the enemy. Then, without warning, the Nightmare Emperor vanished in a flash of dark power. The Nightmare Emperor reappeared once more aboard the flagship of Adolf's invasion fleet, accompanied by a squad of Roa'marii, their armor showing signs of the 42nd legion along with another sigil reserved only for specialist warriors of their own design. Before the Daemonic Xenos could react, the Roa'marii let out a merciless volley of mana fire into all those around them while the Emperor simply watched, a light chuckle escaping his lips as he created a dark barrier around each of the Roa'marii soldiers present. That chuckle turned into full fledged laughter once the xenos began trying and failing to return fire against the shielded warriors. "It's no use, you might as well give up now." the Emperor started, echoes of his laughter still dying as his voice was magically broadcast across the ship. "These shields are powered by the Daemonic energy around them, something you have in abundant supply here. If I had to guess, you xenos are quite fond of the pleasure Slaanesh brings you. I'm afraid I'll have to put an end to that. You are a stain on the face of this dimension that must be wiped clean. You follow what you call the shadow, am I correct? Well then, I'm sure you love the darkness. Of course, there is one crucial flaw in your plan to invade my empire and slaughter my people. I control the shadows." Once this was said, the entirety of the ship shook as it was suddenly engulfed in a blood red light, the ship nearly tearing itself apart as the light emanated from its walls. Looking at it from the outside, one would see the ship itself beginning to crack, shields flickering as it glowed blood red. Of course, any xenos watching would also notice, or perhaps not, their shadow cast from the glow beginning to darken regardless of light sources. Not that one would have much time to contemplate this new event before their shadow rose up, gaining an almost physical appearance, and turned on its former owner, attempting to kill them, and likely succeeding. This happened all across the flagship, only the Roa'marii themselves unaffected. As this went on, each nearby ship, and any group on the planet's surface that noticed the blood glow penetrating the atmosphere encountered very similar situations as those who saw this event were consumed by it as well. This went on for a short time before the Nightmare Emperor's eyes faded, and with them the blood glow surrounding the ship. Yet, despite the short duration of the event, it had done its damage. The armies aboard the ship had been decimated, and many others had taken a heavy hit as well. The Roa'marii soldiers then moved forwards to the bridge of the flagship, killing any xenos that still managed to cling to life. When they reached the bridge, they encountered the warlord. He had been purposely kept alive through the event, controlled by his shadow as he was unable to do anything but watch as his armies were destroyed. The Nightmare Emperor walked up to him, a frown the only feature shown on his face. He leaned in and addressed the warlord. "You come to my territory, slaughter my people, commit countless atrocities, and expected complete victory. What you didn't expect was me. I've dealt with your gods before. I've dealt with my own gods. You have been corrupt for who knows how long. I, however, broke free from their influence. And now I've come to finish the job, starting with you. Tell me, Warlord Adolf Von Hilfer, what do you fear?" Once this was said, the warlord's eyes darkened, pupils widening to massive proportions as the eyes were covered by a layer of darkness. Then came the screaming. The warlord's screams echoed across the bridge as he was tormented with every fear he had ever had, days, months, years, all passing by in torment while only a matter of seconds passed in the real world. Lifetimes of horror passed by as the warlord was engulfed in his deepest, darkest fears. Then, they finally stopped. And once they did, he fell down and wept, tears of relief flowing from darkened eye sockets as his body continued to shudder. He slowly looked up at the Nightmare Emperor, eyes blank. Then, the Nightmare Emperor, still frowning, closed his eyes before speaking. "Now it's time for you to go. May oblivion take you." Eyes opening, the Nightmare Emperor met those the Warlord and with a flash, life began to drain from the Warlord as his body and uniform turned to stone. His final expression was one of defeat, for he had resigned to his fate long ago in the confines of his mind. Once this was done, the Nightmare Emperor turned to the soldiers with him and gave them orders "Take him, his statue will be brought to the Statue Garden. He fell to chaos, but he will be remembered as an example. Now, let's go. We still have to deal with the remains of his invasion force." And with that, the soldiers grabbed the statue of the former Warlord and got into formation before being engulfed once more in the dark energy as it returned them to the Roa'marii flagship. Commander Sehlph thought for a moment before answering the Roman Emperor's question. "If you want to know about our history, I suggest we visit the Statue Garden. It's where we keep records of the greatest wars we have been involved in, or the most influential characters in our history. Most of these records come in the form of statues, and the place is a haven for those who are dedicated to the preservation of our past sins. In the meantime, I can provide a brief summary of our founding while we make our way there. "The original Roa'marii Empire was very different from the one you see today. It expanded rapidly for a long time before encountering a powerful ancient civilization. While they had an uneasy peace for a time, the Roa'marii Emperor at the time, known by us as the Mad Emperor Cru'belis, decided to launch an invasion. It was successful at first, but fell apart soon after. In the end, the Roa'marii were conquered almost completely and practically imprisoned here on Arcadia. After thousands of years under this rule, the Nightmare Emperor rose to lead the New Roa'marii Empire and led a quick, decisive strike on our oppressors. They never recovered. It is assumed that in the ensuing war, our enemy was scattered far and wide while we took their territory. But it was at great cost. The Emperor, and in turn all the Roa'marii people fell to corruption. For nearly 2.5 thousand years we waged a bloody war of extermination. Then, when the Nightmare Emperor broke free of his corruption and we were enlightened to our terrible deeds. Since then, we have striven to help other newly space faring nations and avoid another mass genocide like we committed." At this point, the two had finally reached the entrance to the Statue Garden. As they entered, they were greeted with the sight of a large marble pedestal with nothing on it. There were clear marks on the marble where statues had once stood, but no longer. Yet, the Commander didn't seem to notice, or if she did, care. "We have reached the Statue Garden. I'll point out important statues, but first, is there anything you would like to have clarified about what I just told you?" Space rippled as a portal was suddenly ripped open just outside of Kibō-hosh's Gravity well. From this portal came a very large fleet of Roa'marii ships. Leading these ships was the UNRE Shadow Beast, the flagship of Battlefleet Alpha, led personally by General Jer'rahd Kaisur. The General took in the sight of the planet before him. The Roman blockade was quite large, it must've been one of the largest Roman fleets to have as many ships as it did. And outside of the planet's orbit there was another fleet, this one very different from the Roman fleet which was surrounding a single large ship. The ship seemed to be attached to one of the unknowns and was quite similar in model to the Roman ships, albeit with noticeable differences. General Kaisur grinned as he commanded the Roa'marii force towards the planet, sending messages to the Roman fleet telling them that they were a large force from the Roa'marii Battlefleet Alpha sent by the Nightmare Emperor at the request of Emperor Apollo Callisto to help reinforce the Roman forces in the blockade of Kibō-hosh. A small part of this fleet split off and moved towards the unknown fleet, sending the same messages as well as another. "We are willing to make peaceful contact with whomever you unknowns are, but if you turn out to be an enemy of the Romans we have come to reinforce, we will be forced to turn our guns on you as well. Please don't give us a reason to do so."

The Empress was about to respond when she heard the explosion from outside. Her ears twitched, less like a conscious reaction and more like a pure instinct. She groaned as she tried to move, resisting any attempts to stop her. She managed to get out of bed, still refusing to lay back down. It was clear that she was in immense pain, but she could still move, likely only because of the environment. Had the gravity been the same as on her homeworld, she wouldn't have been able to leave the bed. She quickly bowed, groaning in pain all the way through it. She grabbed her katana, if only to keep the ancient weapon close to her. Though she was in pain, she could definitely walk. Whether or not walking would have an adverse effect on her life expectancy was a question that would have to be asked later. "I hate to run from them, but there's not anything I can do like this. I just keep finding myself in situations where I have no choice but to run, it seems." His airship's sensors picking up the new alien fleet through the Roman blockade, the Admiral adjusted the transmission, making sure it could reach them too. He considered sending another transmission to the Draconian fleet to thank them, but decided to do so after the battle was won. "I don't know about what happened on A-02, but if what you say is true, then we had no idea what we were doing. I don't fully understand why your people would choose not to fight an invading force, but I do know that the worst dishonor is to order the deaths of those who would cause no harm. Those who lost their lives because of our blunder will be remembered, and one of your worlds will never again fall to that same fate. Even now though, I doubt your word. A captured computer core held data that showed that your people enslaved two other species and forced them into a sick hierarchy where they can only be considered people if they give up their lives to serve the empire. We were centuries behind you technologically at first contact, and you viciously destroyed a diplomatic fleet we sent in the hopes of cooperation with your people. A species that can barely scratch your shields is nothing to be afraid of, and I believe that you were simply going to enslave us like the rest. We will never give in to you, you can do whatever you wish to us, but we will not lean down and take it. If you take our colonies, we will fight in the skies of our homeworld. If you take the skies of our homeworld, we will fight you on the seas. If you take the seas, we will fight you on the plains. If you take the plains, we will fight you in the hills. If you take the hills, we will fight you in the mountains. If you take the mountains, we will fight you in our hearts. If you take our hearts, then we will fight you in our souls. And you can never take our souls. When the last Abh is dead and you hold control over our former worlds, we will still be fighting you. Because even in death, Abh never yield." With that statement, his fleet opened fire, shredding apart the Roman fighters and downing the transports. Reinforcements began to arrive from other cities, streaming in at a constant rate. The Abh just didn't stop, their ground troops still decimating the Roman forces, which finally began to thin after the hours upon hours of fighting. Even though the Romans were almost certainly going to bomb the planet from orbit, the Abh kept fighting, as if they thought they could win. ________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ All around the planet, hundreds upon hundreds of missile silos opened up, revealing antimatter missiles. Left over from the old civil wars, they were all originally targeted at other cities on the planet. Having antimatter warheads, disarming them was significantly more effort than it was worth. Since they had to be re-targeted to hit the Roman warships in orbit, it had taken a while to get them ready. Suddenly, it became clear why the Abh fought even though they could be killed instantly at any time: they had the plan all along, they just had to stall the Romans. The missiles flew up out of their launch tubes, streaking through the atmosphere atop their old rocket engines, only operating thanks to the automated maintenance that was kept online in order to avoid a detonation. They weren't like the missiles carried by Abh ships, which were designed for fighting warships. No, they were city-killers, built to kill millions in a single blow. It was the perfect move to make, and it was made at the perfect time. The missiles slammed into the Roman warships at orbital velocity, releasing their full destructive power upon their targets. It was the same tactic used in the liberation of Shōrino'ba, and judging by the immense number of missiles, there weren't any left. It was the only time the Abh would be using such a tactic to defend themselves at Kibō-hosh, but what the Romans didn't know was that only Kibō-hosh and Shōrino'ba had such missiles on them, all the other colonies were founded after the end of the civil wars. The fact that it was the last time certainly didn't cause any problems with the power of the weapons, though.

Hope is the first step on the road to disappointment. Outskirts of Abh Space: Listening Post The Corvette Burned it's way out of the multicolored rift nearly on top of the Listening post. The ship ships sleek design was entirely exotic and wonderful to behold. A voice crackled go life over the Posts communication Array. "Denizens of the Material Universe. I am Nihlus Ordo, Captain of the Iron Corsair and follower of the Primordial Truth. If you would be so kind as to enlighten me to our current Location, your allegiance,  and the current year it would be greatly appreciated. Perhaps even rewarded." The voice had an almost soothing effect on any listener but to a trained ear it was apparent that this man was anything but. Aboard his vessel the Man sat atop a Throne layered in human flesh. His slave crew scuttled around him in a routine fashion all refusing to meet his eyes. The God's has given Nihlus a vision and it had led him here. The time had come to enact the will of the Gods.

It is a rainy evening, but then again, it always rains on Tallarn. A huge amount of soldiers is gathered on Mael square, named after the first Autarch of the Confederacy. The square is atleast 2 miles wide and half a mile long. That's the Tallarnians for you, always wanting to show everyone how great they are at everything. And if that wasnt enough, this place used to be a mountainous region. There must have died atleast 100.000 people to level the mountains and create this square. But life isnt seen as something precious in the Confederacy. The life of a worker is considered cheaper then the clothes they wear. What a pity. But everything must be sacrifised for the betterment of the Confederacy, that's what I'm told anyway... Lord Admiral of Battlefleet Scorpio, Ibrahim Vasar, is lost in deep thought. Then he hears a horn blow and he snaps out of his train of thought. The massive crowd before him falls silent aswell. All seem to stare right at him but he knows that is not the case. Right above him is the speech platform the Autarch will be holding his speech from. A few more seconds of silence before the crowd starts cheering. The Autarch steps up to the platform and waits for the crowd to calm down abit. After almot half a minute of cheering the crowd finally silences and the Autarch speaks: "Brothers! Sisters! My people, sons and daughters of Tallarn. Today we remember a great day. It has been exactly ten years since we removed a tyrant. Ten years ago you, my loyal followers, fought for me against the brutal oppressors who wanted nothing more then to subject you to their will. All you would have been allowed to do was to die for them. And for what reason? Because of pety infighting! But ten years ago there came an end to that, our age of strife is over!" The soldiers start cheering the Autarch's name: "Radec! Radec! Radec!" The Autarch lets them for a while before continuing: "Do you remember how it used to be? We were a broken nation. I asked for time to rebuild our nation and that time was granted by you, the builders of the new Confederacy. This is the start of a new age, my brothers and sisters. We have suffered greatly in the past. But today comes an end to our suffering! No more shall we be devided! No more shall we fight for personal gain! The Confederacy was formed for the betterment of all. And we will be better. For we will rid the galaxy of any who oppose us! Today my brothers and sisters, sons and daughters of Tallarn, we shall cross our borders and expand into the unknown! We shall conquer the stars! We shall dominate all… For that is our destiny, the destiny of mankind, the destiny… of Tallarn!" As he pronounces his final words the soldiers again cheer. Meanwhile the sky is filled with great ships of war build from the Verkt docks, ceremonial banners flying underneath them. The Autarch stretches his hands up in the air and proclaims: "Are you willing to follow me into the depths of the void?" The soldiers instantly chant: "Yes my Autarch!" Vasar responds with them, he too is ready to leave the age of strife behind him. He too wants the Confederacy to be united. But deep down he also feels regret. All those soldiers before him... They will surely all die. What the Autarch wants is wage a war on a galactic scale. A war in which the Confederacy will risk it's existence. Those are the doubts in Vasar's head, but they are not important now. Now is a time of celebration. The age of strife has ended. The age of conquest has begon. "Strikefleet Ariete is in position my lord." "Stikefleet Retribution reports all systems are online and they are ready for jump." "My lord! All fleets are ready for the jump, we just need the order!" The Damocles's bridge looks like an ants nest. The bridge is swarming with activity, atleast 250 men in the same room, 4000 on one ship, 65.000 in the entire Battlefleet... And they are all under Vasar's command. This will be his first time commanding a Battlefleet and it will be the first time in ten years he had command over a warship prepped for war. "My lord?" Vasar looks up and sees his aide standing beside him, a young man who looks like he just came out of adolecence. "We are awaiting for your order." Vaser looks at the bridge and he sees that all the men and women look at him. He will lead the spearhead. He is the leader of Battlefleet Scoripo, renamed to the 1st expeditionary fleet. He is under orders to secure new territory for the Confederacy but, dispite what the propaganda tells everyone, he is not here to engage every non Confederate ship. He has to gauge the enemy's strenght and judge if they would be a worthy ally or if they should be "relieved" of their independence. Vasar stands up from his command chair and commands in his strong voice: "All ships, this is the Lord Admiral speaking, prepare for jump on my mark." In his head Vasar is counting down from 5 to 0, as he always did with these jumps. 3... 2... 1... 0... "Mark!" The fleet jumps out off hyperspace and surrounds planet scouts had picked up a month earlier. It was said that there was intelligent life on the planet and that the planet was rich of minerals. Either way, this would be a great starting location. Either the population would make a great ally and trading partner, or it would make for a perfect planet to claim for the Tallarn Confederacy. "Attempt to open a line of communication. Tell them who we are and tell them our intentions." The chief communications officer looks back at Vasar and responds. "Do I have to tell them about our complete intention? The fact that if we dont deem them fit, that we are here to annex them?" Vasar does not even think for a moment, it would seem asif he doubted his decision. "Our complete intention commander." (( I wrote this before thinking of asking anyone if they wanted to have this happen to them so I kinda altered it now. Instead of naming the person who I basically invaded... Anyone of you can decide on wether or not this applies to you and then write a suitable reply. ))

Aurora watched on as horror as the once mighty Roman Fleet was torn into bits by the missiles. Many of the lower vessels and fighters upon realizing what was happening went into the path of the missiles to prevent their comrades from dying. It did not stop one of the Dreadnoughts from falling to the missiles. Out of the massive fleet of 200, only 50 ships remained. They had all withdrawn behind the Roa’marii fleet. The fleet was clearly in tatters, and would probably need to retreat immediately. Aurora slammed her fist down on her command console. “I never lose. Every battle I have faced the Abh I have claimed victory!” screamed Aurora. The Admiral turned to her. “The Abh made a move your could have never seen coming. It is not your fault Princess.” calmly replied the Admiral, moving to reassure Aurora. “I suppose… but we have almost lost a 150 ships Admiral. That is not going to look good on my record. Or reflect well on our numbers. The War Machine may be in full production, but we still can not just easily replace ships and men.” sighed Aurora, as she tapped commands into the console, signaling to the Roa’ marii and the remaining ships that she was ordering a retreat from the system. “We will claim victory over the Abh sooner or later. We are the Romans, we will best every enemy.” coldly stated the Admiral, as the Roman fleet’s FTL drives activated and they disappeared off into the void. “The New Roman Empire est compositum ex Romus homines, Solusi et panus. Nos venit hic invenire a ordinarius vetus signum homines, sed apprently non amplius sunt. Quod si ita est conflatio Novi Romani cum patria pax sit amet.” As the teachers sent by the United Roa’marii Empire arrived at the New Rome spaceport, they were taken on a more scenic route through New Rome, as in the city on the planet, so they could see a full demonstration of Roman building. All of the buildings were either made of marble, or a metal that shone like silver. All vehicles moving through the city were powered by anti-grav generators, flying or moving rapidly to their destinations. As they passed through they saw large marble columns marking public works or monuments to the entire. Houses or residences had beautiful and varied gardens, making New Rome a very lively city with a lot of beauty to behold. Upon arriving to the building which was going to become the grounds for teaching magic to the Romans the Roa’marii saw a excellent and well built structure. The main building was a large dome, with a golden spike coming out of the top. From there many buildings diverged out to form a large campus upon which to teach students. A few members of the Roman Legions stood around the guard, being the supposed guardians of the campus. Despite this they did not wear their actual battle gear, rather the more formal and ceremonial gear often used for marches parades. The armor mimicked the armor of the legions from the ancient Roman Empire that was born of Earth. The Legionaries payed no attention to the Roa’marii, focusing their attention on the grounds. They clearly held a high level of discipline, which was typical of a legionary, considering the years of training it took to join the Legions. As they stepped up to the main building a small group of Romans approached them, guarded by a sole Space Marine. Unlike other Romus Humans they did not wear traditional outfits, rather they all appeared to be wearing some kind of lab gear. The man leading the small party was unlike any other Romus Human, while he was still tall he was very thin compared to the muscular builds of most Romans they had seen. His hair was a strange purple color, being extremely light. The man took a short bow as the two groups finally met. “Greetings Roa’marii, I am Lloyd Asplund, head of the New Roman Empire’s entire research and development division. Normally I would be in the labs attending to the many projects there, but the Emperor has a particular...artifact I say you could call it that he wishes you to study. He wants me to be there to record the results.” spoke Lloyd, a weird, almost downright creepy smile on his face. A short black-haired girl rushed through New Rome’s vast research labs. She was clearly in a hurry, carrying a tablet like device in her hands. Glasses bumped up on down on her nose as her green-eyes were open in a state of panic. She wore a long skirt and a black shirt under her lab coat, two pigtails bouncing around as she runned. “Can’t be late! Llyod did not make me his second-in-command for no reason! This is terrible!” she whispered to herself, several scientists look on in shock as she ran through the white halls. “Nina..” said one of the scientists to the girl as she passed by him. Nina finally stopped for a minute, looking down as she arrived in her office. Looking at a digital clock that hang on the law, she sighed in relief as she noticed she wasn’t late. Setting her tablet down on her desk, which was covered in a mess of papers and various flash-drive type devices to store and hold data. She pressed a button on her desk, a small hologram projecting outwards, acting as a computer. Stepping out she headed towards Llyod’s office, meaning to speak to him so she could see what the day’s duties were. “Lloyd, you there?” quietly meeped Nina, in a timid voice. However looking around for a minute Llyod was not in his office, going over to his desk which was in order, papers all stacked and organized. A note had been left, in Llyod’s cursive handwriting. “Attending to some diplomatic duties with the Roa’marii, you know the password on my computer. The Agenda for today is listed their. You're in charge Nina.” silently read the note. While being cursive it still appeared to be scribbled rather hastily, as if Llyod had only known of these duties after coming into his office. “This better turn out good, Llyod knows I am not the most outgoing person.” thought Nina, seating at Llyod’s desk and turning on his computer, the hologram projecting outwards. Opening a file, text filled the hologram. Four items were marked on the list as high priority, and marked by Llyod that these were the only ones he needed Nina to pay attention to , three of them in particular indicated that the need for these projects came out of data acquired from the Battle of Kibō-hosh. The first of the high-priority projects was the design of water naval units and larger aerial units inspired by water naval units. Nina skipped past the specifications as she realized that was a project that would be a focus for R&D’s engineers rather than scientists, and they should be fine on their own. The second of them was continuing to decrypt and study the archives and technology of the Romans had recovered from the remnants of the aliens so long ago. Particular focus however had been marked that anything concerning genetics or robotics should be focused on. Nanobots was also marked as a focus, stating that it was both due to their uses in construction and offense. Nina looked shocked for a minute at the last project, as it was unexpected. It was a project classified as a genetics purpose, and it stated that it’s goal was to create a species that matched the strength of the Abh and could be deployed en-mass. While the Romans were no strangers to modifying genetics, a genetic project of this scale had never been attempted before. It left Nina in surprise, some small-scale creation of unicellular organisms had already been done on other research stations that were not the top-of-the-line ones on New Rome, and they were slowly moving up to larger projects, it seemed sudden to attempt something like this. Nina closed the file, heading back to her office to grab her tablet. “This is going to be a long day…” sighed Nina to herself, marching down the corridor as she oversaw the various projects. The Emperor paused for a minute, observing the statues. He turned to his Roa’marii escort, the disciplined Space Marines as silent as ever. “I understand, we may proceed through the gardens.” stated the Emperor, following the Captain. Klaus paused for a minute, leaning forward onto the table. His smile turned into the look of a diplomat negotiating a deal. “The New Roman Empire is more than willing to trade historical and cultural information to you, however you must be aware that we are only interested in acquiring technology from such an exchange. With this understood as long as we were to give you enough historical and cultural information, would you be willing to give us technology?” stated Klaus, awaiting the builder’s response.

((OH OH OHHHHHHH))

Fringe Space, Draconian Empire, Colony 257G of the Forerunners

An armor battalion was rumbling across the great plains of the world- Colony 257-G- as the Minor Forerunner surveyed them with a smug pride. She was the only female Forerunner, and the only one that was actively expanding her lands. She made them fear, she made them band together. She had one of the most powerful fleets in the Draconian spacefleet- a ridiculous thing, really, since none of the others deemed space warfare as vital as ground warfare. Them and their pride- she'll just wipe the deck with them before they can even drop. In the middle of the battalion was what they were practicing defending- a giant strip mine, surrounded on all sides by watch towers, warehouses, and mass accelerator cannons, slinging the massive shipments of resources into orbit. She didn't even need to set up any others- this spot was by far the most material-rich spot, and it even had some places that were nearly solid titanium, in others, solid gold. The planet was, as a result, sort of wavy- the land would arch up slowly to a ridge, then dart down slightly steeply, and come back up again. It made tank battalions less effective, infantry more so, and aircraft far more so. The planet had massive fields of grasses and brush, large and weak in the lower gravity. There were only trees in small patches here and there; they were used to hide orbital defense units, being set up pronto. Oh, she loved this planet. It was destined to be a hotspot for mining and production for years to come. It already outstripped half her slave worlds in resource production, and that was just with three ships' worth of slaves working with one ships' worth of equipment. Then an attendant- also a female Draconian- rushed up, calling, "Draconia! Unknown fleet sighted on the edges of planet orbit!" She knew better to address her so informally, but the news was enough to overwhip the scale-picking she normally would've received. Instead, Draconia whipped around- a name she chose based on the name of their species- and strode indoors of the large command tower. Ferroconcrete, reinforced with titanium alloy struts and protected with just-installed, brand new shields, the building had the broadcasting of the eight troop transports set up cross-planet, and then some, being able to transmit on its own all the way to the outer reaches of the system. Indeed, in the large holographic table in the middle room, a fleet had appeared some great distance away from the planet. They were nothing but a small dot in the face of the massive planet- unusual, because the core was detected to be superheated gases, instead of liquid or solid like any other planet, resulting in the low gravity- and three planet lengths' away. The planet's gravity may be low, but gravity fields extend a far ways. She eyed the dot with morbid curiosity, as a cat may an immobile mouse, and silently regretted sending her fleet to ensure her control over the nearby systems. No matter; she'll deal with them through orbital defenses and sub-atmospheric Shrike strike fighters. She didn't wait for a headcount on the enemy fleet, and instead absorbed the roughly translated message they sent. She paused, weighing her options. A normal Draconian, even a Forerunner, would've laughed or ranted at the audacity of the newcomers, but she stood and thought. The sixteen Draconian officers shifted nervously; heads might roll soon. Instead, she smashed the "COMMUNICATION TOGGLE" button on the console, large and reinforced for that predicted reason, and she spoke. "This is Minor Forerunner Draconia, reporting from Draconian Homeworld "Sentatian," requesting help from outside species. Units on ground are currently engaged in a civil war, and assistance to end and control rogue forces would be much appreciated. Ground assistance required; sub-orbital bombardment may hit strategic or highly-volatile resource deposits. Our status as a sister nation in trade can be given after our people are back under control. Please advise- will you assist?" Of course, she was lying. By all means, it would appear that the tank battalion surrounding the mine would appear under fire, since approaching infantry and light armored divisions were locked in simulated real-time training, using advanced holographics and electronics, it would very much appear a fierce battle from above, where even more advanced technology would have trouble peering through the as-realistic-as-possible training session. Elsewhere on the world, there were great craters, or groups of craters, from high concentrations of what was indeed methane pockets, and was accidentally sparked off, or fired at from orbit, to ensure safety. Methane wasn't very valuable, but it left the planet somewhat scarred and still smoking. She silently ordered her officers to relay messages for everyone in every base to form up and begin realistic training immediately, and prepare for alien invasion so we can take them by surprise. The great craters could be assumed to be ICBM-obliterated cities and population centers, the bunker-like resource hubs being entrances to underground bases, the massive landed-and-entrenched troop transports to be solid cities, self-contained from the planet's natural pathogens. May be a little sparse, with it still being a world settled only a year beforehand, but it should be enough. They may take the bait, believing the world to be underpopulated and in a civil war, and join one side in the fight to "destroy" the rogue side. Then they would turn on the not-rogue side, and destroy them, then annex the planet. Unfortunately, the moment they entered orbit, they'll detect a multitude of semi-online satellites, and probably dismiss them- one of their planets probalbly has slightly under the same amount. In reality, they are defense satellites, and only half of them have active sensors on- the others are safely offline, with passive sensors on low, next to impossible to detect due to size and inactivity, and armed with little surprises. Hidden anti-orbit emplacements, and small outposts built on all the moons and planets of the system. Only a half-dozen tugs are visible, pulling a small asteroid into high orbit on the other side. Really, they'll send dropships or whatever they use, and then at the same time they land, all Draconian forces will turn on them and either take them as prisoners, or as targets, and then Shrike flights will go up to support activating defense satellites, taking to the trails of anti-orbit ICBMs and other weapons, such as MACs, anti-orbital railguns, or antimatter missiles. Really, Draconia would be pleased if she managed to take out the entire fleet. And if she started a conquest into their territory... Oh, the Major Forerunner would be pleased at the slave worlds of a developed species.

The message played and Vasar listened carefully. He was impressed by the way they were able to translate their language so fast and form a proper, if slightly blunt, response. Everyone on the bridge had heard the message and all were awaiting his response. The creatures appeared to be intelligent, maybe even more intelligent then the people from Tallarn. But then again, they claimed to be in civil war which would make for an already weakened enemy, thus making it easier to invade the planet. "Do our scanners pick up any hostile ships?" Vasar asked. The response was almost instant: "Negative my lord, all we detect are some sattelites in orbit." Vasar sits in his command chair, contemplating his next move. Sattelites in orbit... Those might be just ordinary sattelites or it might be defence stations like we have back in Confederate space. I can not take any risks. He directs himself to the communications officer; "Get me a secure fleet channel to the Abbadon." The Abbadon was an Athena class Battlecruiser, it was under the command of Baron Reinhart Loken. Vasar despised Loken because Loken was a turncoat, only carring for his own life and own personal gain. But there was something to respect about him aswell. He had a briliant tactical mind and he had build the Abbadon with his own capital. But the reason Vasar contacted Loken was not because of his briliant mind or Vasar's hope Loken might die, but because of the payload Loken's Battlegroup had. "Secure line established my lord!" "This is Fleet Admiral Ibrahim Vasar on board of the "TCS Morte" contacting Baron Reinhart Loken of the "TCS Abbadon", please copy." For several seconds there was no response, then a communications offcer responded. "TCS Abbadon here, we read you loud and clear" Loken did not even bother to respond personally. Because Loken was an aristorcrat and Vasar came from the slums of Tallarn Loken had a sense of superiority over Vasar. And Vasar knew this. "This is Fleet Admiral Vasar, I want a direct line of communication with the Baron!" he responded annoyed. Again several seconds of silence. "Affirmative, we will patch you through to our lord." Some static occured and then the sound became very clear. In the background there was some music being played, a gracious classical masterpiece composed recently after the Vorchan war. Loken was obviously not even on the bridge, probably in the observation deck, observing the planet. "This is Baron Reinhart, you wanted an audience Fleet Admiral?" In his mind Vasar was enraged at Loken's reply.The arrogance! Why do I have to get HIM under my command. The sooner the aristocracy gets removed from the Navy, the better! But he knew that in the hierarchy of the Confederate society Loken was far above him. But this was not the civilian society, this was a military operation and Loken was under his command here. It was conflicting to say the least, his orders were basically requests to the Baron. "Thank you for granting me the privilige of your time Baron. I am sure you have already been updated about our current state of affairs?" "Yes, I've read the reply. How rude of those filthy xenos to even think that we would aid them. Why did you contact them anyway? I would have already taken the planet by force. I will report this to your superiours after we are done with this." Vasar was infuriated by Loken's provocation, but his voice remained calm and respectfull. "Unforunatly not everyone can be blessed with you skills. But now to the real reason why I contacted you. We will aid these xenos in their struggle." The Baron spit his drink out in response to this and it was clearly audible. "Are you insane!? You would want to risk the entire expeditionary force on this planet's personal strife!?" "No" Vasar responded "I do not. Infact, I wanted to deploy you and your battlegroup under the Wotan Protocol." It remained silent for a while. Then the Loken started to chuckle. "I see where you are going with this. And my battlegroup is to have this honour? Well, I shall begin preperations immediatly... My lord." The line of communication was broken and only a few seconds later the Abbadon's impulse engines activated and it approached the planet, followed by the rest of Loken's battlegroup. It looked majestic and terrifying at the same time. Seeing the orderly movement of his fleet made Vasar feel proud. But he wanted to be sure of a succesfull outcome. He deployed four Fury class Destroyers to scout the system. Meanwhile he contacted the Army highcommand and requested them to deploy the First Expeditionary Army to his location. The response he got was that it would take a while before they got there. Ofcourse it would take them a while... The Army and Navy always try to make the other bleed before doing something. If there wasnt this much infighting between the two branches then they would be unstopable, but alas. Loken's fleet approached the planet, fighter and bomber screens were already deployed. His 10 Athena class Battlecruisers were accompanied by 12 Fury class Destroyers and 20 Nova class Cruisers. Loken looked at the holographic globe infront of him. He saw craters the size of cities on the surface. Ooh what a glorious sight it must have been to see those xenos burn in atomic fire. He also saw the troop movements of the xenos on the ground. They seemed to fight around a large strip mine. Loken contacted the surface. "This is Baron Reinhart Loken of the 1st Expeditionary Fleet. You requested our aid in your strife. We would gladly assist you in this. We need your own troops coordinates so we can deploy our marines near friendly territory aswell as being able to set up a bridgehead." He turned to his aide. "And now, we wait."

Collective-Roman Contact There was a short pause in the dialogue before the AI responded in kind "Collective confirms Homo Sapeins presence. Priority adisory; subjects simian biology inefficient, evolution in progress. Exogen notice; Peaceful relations acceptable. Exogen species cataloged; Romus Human designated sub species of Homo branch. Request full biological and cultural information and long term communication establishment." Another Civilis Protectione craft jumped into system and a moment began to drift towards the planet, before seemingly recieving orders to move to assist the others in their circling of the exogen Roman Empire. It glided forwards silently through the black void and joined it's vulture-like brethren in what was forbodingly like a prelude to a danse macabre; A confirmation of peaceful intentions, it seemed, did nothing to cure the Collective of it's sickly suspicion of these outsiders. "Report business in sector black four." The AI stated in a calm, electronic voice, seemingly unaware of how hostile one might consider the movements of the Civilis Protectione ships. This was to the Collective standard proceedure. Unauthorised objects in their space were seen as a menace at best and an act of war at worst. Paranoia was too light a word for the Collective. Their society was based upon cynicalism and seeing the worst in just about anything. Although not so far as to be fatalistic, they were notorious for reporting just how likely everyone was to die in hard situations. This, coupled with their cold and calculating attitudes towards battle, gave them a reputation for being uncaring about their soldiers; In the eyes of their masters, the common soldier was completely expendable. While they were not one for unneeded casualities, it was not from any form of humanitarian stand point; It was simply that they expected maximum efficency from their officers... And failure to deliver could carry with it some very bad consequences for the one responsible...

((Disregard, doublepost))

As many times as he walked into the throne room, Targaryan couldn’t stop the beauty from taking his breath away. The vaulted ceiling and the walls of polished Ferrarus embedded with jewels reflected and refracted the light casting it into every corner of the room forever lighting it without needing artificial lighting. Additionally, the room boosted any psychic powers used to allow for even the weakest psykers to be able to fluidly communicate in order that there is no eavesdropping on discussions of highest secrecy. At the far end of the room there was a raised dais. On top of this sat a brilliant throne made of solid gold adorned with rubies, emeralds and sapphires. On this throne sat the emperor of the Hallböurg. He was tall, even for his kind, topping out at 8.5 feet tall. He sat comfortably on the throne with a simple circlet adorning his head to signify his rank. He was deep in meditation as Targaryan approached and knelt at the ground in front of his emperor. For short while the Emperor ignored him but then, without opening his eyes or moving his mouth, asked “What news do you bring me my faithful aide?” “General Icarus send word from the front. Planet SA-03 has been taken by our forces and renamed Druidia.” “A fine name. That leaves one planet remaining in sector Z correct?” “Yes Your Grace, but t houses many of the refugees from the other worlds we have retaken from the Serapidids. The General does not expect is to fall easily.” “Very well. Tell the general to extend the promise of sanctuary and habitation to these people if they surrender peacefully.” “Of course Your Grace.” The Emperor finally opened his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief. He then said, “One more planet and this disgusting war will be over. You are dismissed Targaryan. I must speak to the gods of our success.” “Yes Your Grace.” He turned and started walking toward the door. When he was I the door way he looked back at his Emperor. He had stood up from the throne, removed the circlet fro his head and was concentrating on merging with Conciseness, the force that allowed the most powerful of the Hallböurg to instantly teleport themselves to any location within a long range.. As he watched, the Emperor dissolved into nothingness. Targaryan was not worried, he knew that he would be where he wanted to be. The Temple of the Acscended. A General Icarus received the message from the Emperor, he sent a message down to the planet below him. “Attention people of SA-04. We truly want no fight with you. If you surrender to us unconditionally, We promise to give you sanctuary and Habitation with no harm coming to either of us.” When the reply finally came back, it was curiously harsh. “We will never surrender to you you weak useless creatures. Come down here and give us a glorious fight.” The general turned to his aide. “Ready the troops but do not send them yet. I fear a trap.”

Fringe Space, Draconian Empire, Colony 257G of the Forerunners

A savage, evil grin spread across Draconia's face upon hearing the message. Oh, this will be a sweet victory. She spun around from the holo-table, and begin shouting orders at the officers arrayed around the room, behind consoles and admin decks (which are a sort of really durable Neural Network (computer stuff) PDA). "I want Shrike wings ready to lift off on a moment's notice, but make sure they are covered and are not giving off unreasonable heat signatures! Move tank battalions 3D3 and 6S1 into the area immediately surrounding our position. Get me a flight of ARS drones moving in patrol patterns around this area, and any other airfield, supported by Type-66es, NOW!" A chorus of "Aye-aye, Forerunner!" sounded out in sequence as orders were received. The evil grin refused to fade as she continued calling out orders, automated infantry taking up places within the forest and around the mine and control center, tanks mixed in between so that heavy, medium, and anti-air tanks were situated evenly around all strategic points, loose items vibrating silently against their perches as stealthed wings of Rebels fly overhead. KIEV armored trucks drove about between bases, spreading out critical staff across the continent along recently constructed roads. Dropships, vehicles capable of carrying a platoon of infantry or an entire Steelback tank, bristling with cannons, missiles, and other ordnance, fly about, transporting soldiers to the few mountains on the planet, and to FOBs and outposts. All in all, the planet had turned into a beehive of activity, with a hundred make-believe battles happening all over the planet. Satellites above did nothing more but re-orient themselves to face different parts of the large continents below, separated only by long strips of sea, as wide as a lake, as long as an ocean. Submarines hid in their depths, ICBMs and IABMs at the ready. As the satisfied Draconia watched all this from the biggest base on the planet- both sides of it having entrenched trooptransports, a hundred hangars with fueled-up Shrikes on standby, and hundreds of barracks, car depots, mess halls, and other buildings set up to act as the population center of the planet. Six massive parallel runways went right down the middle of the majority of the hangars, two more parallel runways set a row of hangars over, allowing for increased incoming and departing aircraft. The other two largest airports/spaceports sent exact landing coordinates for the "allied" forces above, and were relayed through Draconia to the ships waiting above. She eagerly waited for them to pass through the screen surrounding the planet, hundreds and hundreds of defense satellites, just waiting for the signal to lock links with each other, and shred any ships coming in or out. But on impulse, she ordered to the officers, "Order all troops to be on standby to take cover. Orbital bombardment may commence, as they may decide to bombard rather than come down and attempt to eliminate our troops themselves. Move thirteen platoons to engage my forces, and three battalions. I want a battle taking place when they get down here- then we can turn on them. Make sure a full regiment of KIEVS, loaded full with tactical urban combatants, are ready to come in and take down enemy units as they leave their dropships. I want them dead when they touch the ground, and i want their communications stuck planet-side. If they can alert their troops above, then we may not survive orbital bombardment. Send messages to the tugs on the dark side; I want them to send orders to the fleet to regroup and warp into the upper orbit of this planet on my command."

Baron Loken was observing the planet's surface from the observation deck. He was sipping his fine Mordian wine while listening to another classical masterpiece. The planet was highly active. There seemed to be many fights happening on the surface. He was wondering however why the satelites were not armed. And if they were, why werent they firing on the planet's surface. Another thing that struck him was that most of the infrastructure appeared to be intact, atleast, asfar as the scanners could see. Could they have developed Götterdämmerung weaponry aswell? His thought get interupted by an adjutant who just entered the room. "My Baron, we have prepared the marines. 1 battalion, exactly as you told us. They are instructed to opperate under the Wotan protocol." The Baron turned around to face the Adjutant. "Well done, when will they deploy?" "On your order Baron." Loken grinned. This was his time to shine, his moment of glory. He would either create the first interstellar ally of the Confederacy or he would achieve the first victory against a xeno since the Vorchan wars. Eitherway he would be honoured in some way. Loken activated a holographic display on a richly decorated table. It showed his battlegroup. 42 vessels, 300 fighters, 100 bombers and 10.000 souls, 1000 of whom were marines. Loken wondered if the aliens below had any idea of the strenght of his fleet. Of the powerfull weaponry it housed. Götterdämmerung missiles... The most lethal weaponry the Confederacy had. So powerfull that they are only allowed to be used with the direct order of the Autarch. Atleast, that's how it usually goes. But since this is the first ever expedition out of Confederate space the Fleet Admiral is allowed to launch them aswell. Secretly Loken was hoping the xenos would prove to be hostile, then he could witness the weapons with his own eyes. "Let the "Archimedes" and the "Togo" begin their decent." A few moments later 2 Nova class Cruisers entered atmosphere. The Confederate ships were build to be able to withstand any atmosphere to be able to quickly support groundforces and provide close to the front headquaters, hospitals and rearmament centers in one. Their massive Lance cannons were activated and ready to destroy any ships which came to close. Their railguns were aimed at the surface, ready to provide bombardment support for the ground troops. The missile pods were activated and armed with fragmentation missiles, the best defence against enemy fighters and bombers. During their decent ceremonial banners were rolled out under them, the biggest of them held the Confederate National Flag, some smaller ones showed that they were ships from the Confederate Navy, part of the 1st Expeditionary Fleet and held the personal sigil of the Baron. Meanwhile an escort of 75 fighters and 25 bombers flew beside the ships. Once they were in position over the dropzone droppods were dropped from their bellies. The marines made touchdown with the planet's surface in a matter of seconds. After the launching the shields of the two ships were instantly activated. They were capable of absorbing a nuclear strike or laser and plasma weaponry but had problems with kinetic based weaponry like railguns and massdrivers. For this the ships had heavy armour, although by Confederate standards the Nova class barely had any armour. It was "only" 7,5 meters of composite armour. When the marines touched down on the planet they immediatly grouped into squads and tried to find the best possible defendable position, here they would dig in. Loken observed this from his deck and made sure that the rest of his fleet was ready to back up the ground forces, should anything go wrong. He smiled as he sipped again from his glass of wine and uttered to himself. "Show me what you can do xeno. Make my day."

Fringe Space, Draconian Empire, Colony 257G of the Forerunners

Draconia smiled evilly as two of forty-two ships dropped from the clouds above, coming down low enough to fire droppods into the ground outside the airport. From them scurried not even a full company of troops. If this was the ground forces of this fleet, Draconia would have no trouble keeping the ground from them. And at her word, two to three satellites to every one already easily detected appeared, hundreds of them. And they were all armed with missiles, lasers, or cannons. Larger inactive Battle Stations, a small station capable of giving four times as much firepower as a regular Defensive Satellite, and controlling and coordinating with all the satellites in the vicinity, and talking with all other Battle Stations. By tracing the signals being received and transmitted from the station, one might assume that the one place soldiers had dropped- the largest airfield and military base on the entire planet- might be the center of operations for the entire thing. Hundreds of guns turned towards the now-rather-meager fleet of not even 50, and missiles flew from launchers, armor-piercing ballistic-capped (APBC) shots from railguns and MACs, and high-powered beams of energy from lasers satellites. As orders went out, all "battles" ceased. As they did so, it became rapidly obvious that there wasn't a single bit of real battle anywhere on the planets where there were active units. All the craters and explosions seen from orbit were suddenly gone, replaced by perfectly operational units. Petra Command Walkers, sixteen of them, marching towards the planet's central hub, Draconia's Hub, paused in their march, troops and units around them halting with them. Cannons were raised as high as they could go, and they simultaneously fired the first shots of what may become a very long war. Sixteen cover rounds flew up in an eerily continued ascent, not decelerating at all. The rounds, leaving a trail behind them, impacted the two ships' shields at a colossal speed for a kinetic weapon, no doubt rattling the cups on tables inside. A massive burst of gas burst from each shot, filling the air with a new, dirty-snow colored cloud, preventing them from doing anything by sight, and screwing with any kind of instrument trying to peer through it via special chemical formulas. While they were essentially blinded by the cloud that was thrown up around them, three flights of Rebel aircraft snuck up on their escorts. What was originally a rather peaceful day was broken as twin autocannons opened up on each Rebel. The thundering retorts from hundreds of autocannons broke the peace, and the heavily outnumbered escorts were shredded before they even knew what was happening. Regardless of how many escaped, only a dozen Rebels really "appeared" on radar- a dozen that was actively sweeping the ships and the remaining escorts with every active sensor possible, like a bright beacon in a dark room. They relayed all they saw through to the rest of the Rebels, who in turn fired missiles at who was left, missiles and rockets. And before they had time to start firing back and taking targets- targeting before hand would have been too obvious, and would've caused a battle from the very start, rather than just after it- three MAC cannons opened fire on one ship- an antimatter missile for the other. From a clump of trees came three bursts, each one flattening half a dozen trees in the process. Ten-ton bullet-shaped projectiles launched out of the bursts, clearly by surface-to-orbit transportation called a MAC. They were by no means stealthy, very easily detected, even through the cloud haze, but nothing would stop them, and unless the heavily armored ships are as nimble as a fish, they'll likely get hit. Three lumps flew towards Ship1, and a streak appeared, arching towards Ship2 and reaching it in a matter of seconds. Regardless if it scored a hit or not, the missile would explode against or near the enemy ship, and a small sun appeared in the sky, blinding and buffeting the fleeing Rebel aircraft, incinerating nearby clouds and shaking the earth. As the two enemy ships disappeared within the brightness of the mini-sun, a couple hundred anti-starship Shrike fighters rose from the different airfields, having to take off the "old-fashioned way," for lack of VTOL capabilities. The did, however, gain supersonic with a minute of taking off, gathering in a holding pattern around their respective airbases, in their respective wings, or flight groups. From the control tower, Draconia smiled. Her latest order was sent; her fleet was on its way. She figured the enemy fleet had, oh, an hour to disengage and flee, or fight their way through the satellites- half of which hung between them and the rest of space, half in the way to the ground- and to the surface.

Loken smiles at what he was witnessing. Everything went exactly according to plan. The "Archimedis" and the "Togo" were to be sacrifised from the start. That was part of the Wotan protocol. Immediatly as the enemy opened fire the automated turrets on all his ships started clearing everything in orbit surrounding them, another part of the protocol. The Lanceturrets obliterated spacestations in but two volleys. When the enemy used their miniature sun however he was impressed. This weapon was able to disintegrate the 3 km long Nova class in the blink of an eye. Then the enemy strikecraft were spotted. They appeared slow in comparison to the Harpy fighters the Confederacy used. But there was ofcourse strenght in numbers. When more and more of the enemy forces exposed themselves Loken started to grin more. Yes, this is exactly as I had hoped. The idiots really exposed themselves and all we had to do was sacrifice two outdated ships and some cadets. This is marvelous.Loken immediatly ordered that his fighters would hold back and stay inbetween the cruisers. With his direct surroundings secure he ordered the Athena class Battlecruisers to open fire on the approaching strikecraft, still hundreds of kilometers away. They were using deepspace anti-fighter missiles. These were meant for fighting at lightyear distances. Their tops speed was 0.5 IAU every second, basically impacting instantly at this short range. They were build to fragment in millions of pieces in a radius of one kilometer because of the inacuraccies over the long range they were normally fired from. This also meant that they were easy to be fired on masse without all the targets detected on radar, basically assuring that 90% of the squadron would be destroyed by the missile. And this was only the effect of one missile, the Athena class was able to launch 550 of them in one volley and there were 10 Athena classes in his battlegroup. After that, the fighters would engage the enemy and clean up the remaining enemy fighters. And so it happened, the missiles were fired and they caused carrnage amoung the enemy strike craft. Loken grinned at the thought of how his opponent would react to the sight of this. Now there was the problem of the groundforces. The marines were guarenteed to be dead by now, or atleast in the following minutes. But Loken didnt want to destroy the entire planet and everone on it with an orbital bombardment. No, that wouldnt suffice for Loken. Loken didnt just want to defeat his enemy. Loken wanted to make the enemy fear him and then crush them. And as luck might have it, he had the ideal weapon for it: the Götterdämmerung weapons. He let his life sign scanners pick the ideal targets and then observed the wind paterns to make for the ideal targeting vector. After a couple of seconds of calculating the computer had found just that target. "This is Baron Reinhart Loken to TCS "Retribution". I hereby sanction this planet it's death sentence. Let the plague run rampant amoung the unworthy and foul. Let them suffer and make them beg us for mercy. Fear the Xeno, hate the Xeno, kill the Xeno." Immediatly a response came: "I, captain Lysander of the TCS "Retribution", hereby accept this honourous task granted to me. I shall purge this planet of it's foulness in the honour of the Autarch." The TCS "Retribution" entered the atmosphere only slightly and one missile was launched from it's frontal torpedo tubes. The missile traveled slowly but with a sound audible over the entire continent. It flew towards it's target and then exploded about 10 kilometers above the target zone. A large green cloud appeared and slowly spread out. At first the Draconians who were under the cloud were laughing at this. It looked like a failed gas attack. As if gas would even work against the Draconians, their rebreathers would just filter it out... But they had no idea of what was unleased upon them. The Götterdämmerung weapon was the most destructive weapon the Confederacy had. At first glance one might mistake it with a very large nuclear weapons. But you couldnt be farther from the truth. The payload of this weapon wasnt nuclear, it was biological. It held a virus. Not a disease or anything like that. It was a virus which would consume all organic material it would encounter. To make sure it hit asmuch targets as possible it would be launched with the wind direction carrying it to enemy forces. The only known counter to the virus was to be locked up in a airtight room BEFORE the virus was launched. Rebreathers and HAZMAT suits were not able to counter this virus however. The beauty of this weapon was that it left the infrastructure intact, aswell as any technology used by the victims. If the virus would not be able to find anymore organic material it would start to devour itself. Basically cleaning itself up. The weapons would also leave a large gas cloud. This gas cloud could be ignited by Lance weaponry and it would result in a spectacular fireball. The virus now made contact with the Draconians. Were they first mocking the insigificance of the weapon, now they were screaming in agony. It almost seemed as if they were melting. There was no place to run and the comchatter was filled with painfilled screams and yells. Begging for help against this microscopic enemy. Not only the Draconians were suffering; the grass, trees and wildlife also had to suffer the consequences of the launching of this weapon. And after only a few minutes, there was silence. The virus had consumed itself and the largest concentration of troops on the planet aswell as consuming all large amount of the native life on the planet. The weapon was detonated at a location where it would hit 50.000 square miles. After launching the weapon the TCS "Retribution" immediatly went back in high orbit and fell back in formation. A satisfied Loken now opened a communication line to the planet below. He looked around and saw that several of his ships were damaged because of the early engagement, but there were no considerable loses. He then proceded to contact the species on the surface. "I come here, trying to aid you, and you respond by attacking me. Is that how you greet a new species? Is that how you treat a potential ally? Well... Luckily we were perpared for your treachary. What your forces just experienced is only one of our destructive weapons. We have dozens more in this fleet alone. We could render this planet uninhabitable if we'd want. I will give you one chance to surrender. If not, then I will order the launching of hundereds of nuclear missiles which will detonate in low orbit, the resulting EMP charge will render all your technology useless. Then we shall launch a real invasion with millions upon millions of troops. The choice is up to you." Loken goes to his throne on the observation deck and proceeds to sit on it comfortable awaiting the reply while he again listens to the same classical masterpiece composed by the greatest musical talent of the Tallarn Confederacy while sipping his Mordian wine. He turns to his aide: "So far, this has been a wonderfull day, wouldnt you say so?" He says with a wide grin on his face.

Jer'rahd watched as the Roman fleet was decimated by the Abh bombardment. The fleet was crippled, and while the Roa'marii fleet was still fresh and had yet to deploy troops, the prospect of taking the planet was looking slim. Perhaps had there not been another fleet which had been completely unaccounted for the Roa'marii could set up their blockade and finish the job of taking the planet. But alas, it would be more trouble than it was worth. The Roman fleet crawled back from the planet, sheltering itself behind the Roa'marii reinforcements. As they activated FTL drives and jumped from the system, Jer'rahd could do nothing but watch. Then, once the glow of Roman thrusters had faded, he sent out a message to the battle weary Abh planet. "I am General Jer'rahd Kaisur of the United New Roa'marii Empire. We had arrived at the request of the Romans to help in the blockade of this planet. Now that this is no longer a valid option, and our allies have seen it fit to use us as a distraction to escape with their tails between their legs, I will offer an alternate deal. We have no ill will for you or your people and care not for conquering your planet. Our troops were not deployed nor have we engaged your allied fleet in combat. We will leave this system if you so will it, but ask that you allow us to stay and hopefully establish relations past those of us being your enemy's reinforcement. If you do so, I would be honored to go down and meet with whomever leads this planet's defense to talk about a treaty. Please consider this. I'd rather not have come all this way for nothing." Then, messaging the unknown fleet still in the area, Jer'rahd spoke once more. "Unknown fleet, I ask once more that you identify yourselves. You appear to be allies to this planet's defenders, but I would like confirmation of this. We will not attack unless necessary, but confirmation that you are an ally would come as a great relief." Ending this, Jer'rahd looked once more at the planet below. Many sites had been bombarded, and some of the large cities had obviously received heavy damage in the invasion. Roman soldiers still seemed to be fighting, but with reinforcements no longer coming in it was a losing battle. The general hoped he could settle a ceasefire between the remaining Roman forces and the planet's inhabitants, but that depended on the answers he received from the Abh below. "Very well, then I will continue. As you can see, the statues here in the Garden show a multitude of different species, including Roa'marii. Most of these are statues of particular leaders of the various nations we have fought with over the centuries. Back when the original Roa'marii Empire was formed, it was a common practice to honor those enemies who proved themselves to be worthy opponents in battle. Many of the statues you will find in the back of the garden come from this period of time. It should also be noted that the garden is far larger than it would appear from the outside. It is my understanding that since ancient times, there has been a rather intricate series of enchantments and dimensional stretching if you will that allow this place to exist. Most statues in the Garden tell a story of the war they were made for or the species depicted. I will go over a few of the more recent ones with which I am familiar. They then walked up to a rather new looking statue. It depicted a tall spider-like creature in an attacking stance, one sharp limb extended out as if the statue were alive and trying to slice through the air in front of it. Closer inspection however would reveal that the limbs were not natural. They came out of a suit that the creature wore, it's natural body being thin and frail, yet covered in what appeared to be a suit of exo-skeleton like armor. The body inside would likely not have even been noticeable if not for the face mask and front chest plate being ripped off the creature depicted. Even still, the statue held a frightening degree of detail. "This particular statue is fairly recent. It was obtained during our war against the Saronian bounty hunters. They had been on the fringes of Roa'marii space for quite some time, taking jobs as bounty hunters. Their whole civilization thrives around it. Their leader, depicted in the statue here, was known by the Saronese as Lady Pestiferious. She decided to lead her bounty hunters on a raid into our territory. Naturally this was taken as an invasion and the military was dispatched to deal with her. She in turn rallied all of the Saronese against us. The ensuing war left us spread far, but eventually we forced them back to their home planet. When taking their main stronghold we captured Pestiferious and in turn crippled their government. While they destroyed the hold rather than let us take it, they quickly fell to infighting between their Top Spears. Many of my soldiers as well as those of the 42nd legion like to brag about the victory, but the truth is, the Saronese lost because of their governmental collapse. They fought harder and claimed more lives than any soldier in the Roa'marii Empire. It's too bad they had such a low population due to the slave status of the males of their race, or they would've made an excellent army force. But they refused to fight alongside us and would not keep to themselves." They then continued on to another statue, this one of a Roa'marii soldier, hough it was next to impossible to tell for sure due to the amount of armor he wore. The way the armor was layered made it look almost like the bones of some massive creature had been used to create it. The statue was looking straight up, as if watching something in the sky. It was kneeling down as well, submitting to the sculptor who had created it. "This statue is a fairly old one. It depicts the ancient Roa'marii General who we only know as Ruin. According to legend, he was one of the original Roa'marii Gods who became the first General in the old Roa'marii Empire. He was known as a berserker general for his uncanny ability to control the normally unstable berserker warriors, of whom I hear your son would qualify as were he to lose control of his powers. Past that, he apparently was able to get those under his command to follow him into any situation no matter how perilous. He was able to push further into enemy lines than any others. His recorded victory count has only been surpassed by the current general in his position, General Jer'rahd Kaisur. He and two of the other original Immortal Generals have statues in this garden. The other statues were broken long ago, despite the magical enchantments used to keep them from breaking. They must not have had the same level of care put into their creation as the others. You can see the broken statues if you wish, but they are not important. Now, let us continue." The magical training for the Roman had been going well enough. The Emperor's son had been in the care of the Roa'marii Prime Magus Til'wathis. He had been training the Roman to use his powers during his time there. They were being watched over by the Roa'marii General Ble'reu Escal. General Escal was very different from the other Roa'marii. Due to her Godhood being naturally gained at birth rather than through ritual as the other generals had gained theirs, she had been contained in a research facility controlled by the Roa'marii's former captors back before the rise of the New Roa'marii Empire. In this facility she had been brutally tested on for years before being freed by the Nightmare Emperor and Jer'rahd Kaisur when they rebelled. The result of this testing left her body and mind severely mutilated, genetic implants transforming her, giving her scale-like skin and a natural resistance to intense heat. In addition to this, her hands had the ability to generate intense levels of electricity as well as absorb it. This was used mainly to power a large set of thrusters surgically added to her back much like the Valkyrie wings used by General Silvad. General Escal watched the training, an amused grin on her face. Normally she'd be out in the fringe worlds keeping an eye on the local populations, but she had been called back to attend to some duties on Arcadia. She was then dragged into watching over the training of this Roman in what was one of her specialties of magic. While her dragon magic wasn't nearly as strong as Jer'rahd's, it came far more naturally to her thanks to her augmentations and she was far better at explaining it to others. The Roman had been gaining a fairly decent grasp on the magic rather quickly considering he had only recently come to learn about it. He was already able to use the strengthening part of the magic to lift objects many times his weight albeit with slight difficulty. Eventually, he'd be able to wield some of the massive weapons Jer'rahd likes to collect. The things were practically useless in actual combat situations, but who didn't like swinging around a sword larger than themselves and weighing almost a ton with ease. Regardless, the training was going along well, and if it continued to progress as it was, the Roman would likely be sent out to the forests for some of the more dangerous training soon. Whatever happened, it was sure to be an exciting time on Arcadia with another berserker running around. As the Abh Empress stood, the doctor watched nervously. When she explained her need to run, the doctor immediately rushed over to her and helped to steady her still weak body. Then she began to speak. "You shouldn't try to go anywhere. The Naga will not come for you here. The Queen's Cross is neutral territory and even the Naga abide by this. Our policy is to treat anyone, friend or foe regardless, and the Naga know this. They have raided this town before, and never have they attacked the hospital. Trust me, the safest place in the town right now is here. The Naga will take supplies from the people, but unless we openly fight back they will leave us alone. Besides, there are soldiers in this town ready to fight back if they try anything. You, however, are in no shape to fight. But, if you insist on moving, you can come to the lobby with me and wait there with the others." At this, the Doctor walked forwards slowly, still supporting the Abh Empress, towards the door and into the hallway. Other doctors and even a few patients could be seen watching from open doors. Down the hallway was the door to the lobby, pulled open and giving a view of the street outside. Naga could be seen in groups of three or four going from building to building, but as Doctor Ire'merok had said, none moved for the hospital. They watched as the Naga took various supplies back towards the tank, their leader still standing atop it. The leading Roa'marii in the group stepped forward. She had long, bright red hair, quite obviously dyed its shade. Her body was very thin compared to other Roa'marii, yet she did not seem at all hindered by her slender figure. In fact, it gave her movements a feeling of fluidity that made it seem as if she were dancing with every step she took. Her eyes seemed to sparkle internally and her voice rang with a chime-like clarity that most who heard it would say was filled with beauty. Indeed, she was thought of as an incredibly beautiful woman by Roa'marii standards. She wore a standard set of Roa'marii light armor, although this was completely hidden underneath a robe of dark red that had been masterfully designed and crafted to her particular body. She smiled lightly, a calming smile as she greeted the Roman Scientist. "Greetings. I am Commander Sca'reta Direll, leading Commander of the 69th legion's magic users directly under General Rhe'deri Peltis. I will be leading the magic lessons here until our Prime Magus is able to make it here. I will also be the lead ambassador between our people here on New Rome. As for the artifact, I would like to know some additional information about it before we test anything. If you could show me and some of my associates here to it we would be grateful. I would also like to get to know the layout of this city better, particularly the governmental area. Now, if you would lead the way."

Fringe Space, Draconian Empire, Colony 257G of the Forerunners

Draconia smirked. Were they really so new to biological warfare that they thought the gas would work? She did frown, though, as reports of casualties came in over the network, but she sent a planet-wide order to RTB. It was really quite ridiculous; any planet that's colonized must be terraformed, an atmosphere created and bad gases filtered out, with good ones replacing. Two things can do that efficiently: clouds of nanites and terraformers. This was a colony planet; there were sixteen terraformers on the surface, heavy bunker-like constructs that have a personal power plant beneath them, and their own shields, and every MAV-ULB has a fair amount of reprogrammable nanites for medical or biological reasons. So shortly after the chemical weapon exploded overhead, towers raised up from sixteen bunkers and started sucking it in, while clouds of nanites rose to counteract unfamiliar particles in the air around troop formations. A Draconian's scale wasn't completely organic, so it did provide some protection. Only the soldiers with their face uncovered were incapacitated; the rest simply hid in the environmental shields surrounding the tanks and heavy infantry units. In return fire, more missiles arched up, electronic warfare compartments making it appear there were six to every one missile, scrambling the signals and making it impossible to get a solid lock, and next to impossible to just score a lucky hit on the seven different targets. As their bombardier began its retreat out of the atmosphere and back up into space, a missile struck it. While its shields may be good against energy, and it may have thick armor, antimatter persuaded it to become dispersed into individual particles. Dozens of MAC rounds began flying up, their crews safely protected between kinetic and environmental shields. Nanites, too, had been released at each site, keeping the environmental shields relatively untouched. Really, if they wanted to use chemical weapons, they should've made it target everything mechanical. Nanites weren't even touched by the gas, and they broke it down and turned it into harmless chemicals without trouble. However, it took longer than normal natural gases due to its nature and origin. Environmental shields had as much trouble keeping the organic-targeted gas agent at bay as it would anything else- that is to say, very easily. Still, several thousand soldiers were killed within a minute, from the effects of the gas eating through eyes faster than anything else, and digging into one's brain and nervous system without much resistance. But either way, the Draconians recovered and adapted, and were still well within firm control of the planet. They moved to their bases, and made sure to keep from clumping. If they were all clumped in their own separate military bases, it would be far too easy to get precise bombardment to take them all out. Tanks were like campfires in the dark, where soldiers huddled around and watched the walls of wispy, swirling green outside the tank's shields with the unease of a snake under an overhang eying a circling hawk- not in immediate danger, but it would be so if one tried to run. The enemy fleet was struck down to forty ships in the first blow, and they were getting damaged as they moved to wipe out the satellites. The satellites themselves weren't defenseless- the first few shots at them would miss completely, from false readings, and then as they zeroed in, their shields would flare up for a couple more shots before giving out and self-destructing. Each satellite was a menace, built to inflict as much damage as possible before being torn apart. Even with forty ships, there were at least a hundred satellites immediately in range, and each of them focused fire to both scan enemy ships and get a good look at their structures and how they work, vital for future battles. They won't be able to last long under the bombardment. Antimatter missiles trailed both great big hunks of metals and actual rounds, armor-piercing rounds that shoot penetrator rods out when it pierces a hull, in an attempt to depressurize every compartment possible to the void. First, the lowest ships- the one that fired the gas, especially- was pummeled by the great MAC rounds and anti-orbit railgun shots, then burst into miniture suns brighter than a nuclear bomb. On the ground, Draconia's evil smile began giving way to an enraged snarl, as she realized just what weapon they had used. It was likely meant to be a fallback, a superweapon, but had this really been a planet of any other species, it was likely they just attempted mass-genocide without even trying to take out strategic units. She respected their thoughts- if they could kill everyone, the battle would be over with few casualties and all the new technology they wanted. Except, of course, they tried to gas what was clearly a modern military society whom they have no idea what they have, with significant evidence to state that this wasn't close to an advanced society- there were plenty of city-sized craters, but there weren't any farms, there weren't any industrial nodes, no significant presence on the planet. That, and a world civil war would have torn up most of the planet, not just a couple battlefields. The fools! They try to gas us out with primitive chemwar! A good idea, if they weren't fighting a military state who has defended against worse! They will burn! All of them! This all ran through her mind as she systematically began ordering her fleet here now, at the attempted genocide of her people. Weapons output increased; rounds began arcing up into the sky at a slightly faster pace, if slightly more inaccurate. Ten minutes later (which really isn't that much time at all, in such warfare), a fleet appeared outside the planet's orbit, a Draconian fleet, of the Forerunner fleet numbers: about two hundred and fifty ships, in a very loose, spread-out formation. Four troop transports were accompanying, of course, and sixty of the ships were Forerunner custom models, each of them with a different set of abilities. One of them was a bit larger than a scout ship, but was completely covered with antennae, dishes, maser communication arrays, and who-knows what else. This ship was the epicenter of the entire fleet, despite its small size, and it took a moment of its powerful electronic warfare capabilities to sweep the enemy fleet with active sensors. For the fleet of 42-and-decreasing, this single ship was probably the highest priority, even if they only used passive scanners to try and look at the fleet. The small scout ship had so many links with all the ships in the fleet, it could easily be assumed that hitting it would destroy the entire fleet's coordination. The problem was a dozen Forerunner warships that took up the front of the fleet, each one different from the other, each one the size of a battlecruiser or larger. All of them had a slight similarity- at the very front, they had a nose that tapers down to a small triangular opening, like a really organic stubby barrel. From the waves of energy that emanated from it, detectable by even the dullest sensors, a very obviously dangerous weapon, or a superpowerful sensor.

Morval stood on the balcony of the Palace of the Light, staring across the fields before him. Wind teased his golden hair, caressing the pale skin of his face with loving touch. Slabs of iridium and gold encased his body, scroll work of platinum running along the armor in whorls of gleaming silver. Azure eyes gazed blankly, filled with mourning as his mind turned inwards, unraveling the tomes of memory which had long lain untouched. Images engraved into his soul, before sealed behind the vault of time, now cleared. Morval's encounter with the Hellstar had revealed to him his own faults and ambitions as much as he had taught it. Change now bore down upon C'ran, change as had not been seen in near one thousand years. An anomaly was what he was. No longer Sakari in blood or mind and no longer mortal in form or ambition, the pact he had wrought placed him apart. Yet was it above or simply apart? Who determined the superiority of one creature, idea, or organization above another except those that had wrought the changes? To judge did not fall to his duties. Serving the living came first. The dead had their rest. Screens appeared ahead of him, remains from an era long past, before the advent of the neuro-link, before C'ran had become one. A remain which he required. The neuro-link would never, could never, serve him due to the augmentations implanted in him upon ascension, augmentations ethereal in nature. Flickering softly against the rustic backdrop, mind absorbed the information ahead of him impassively. Millions dead, cast upon the stones of damnation for their knowledge. Knowledge gained from a quest he had set them. Dozens upon dozens of ships floated in the void of space. Most lay in pieces, chunks of structure looming minisculely. No longer did they present a threat. Screen and background faded, revealing before him the gathered Anointed. Never had the Anointed come together in one place for never had there been need. As thousands of eyes turned to him, he began the Council of Orithica. The Council of Orithica dispersed, the Anointed returning once again to their respective realms. Smiling at the success which he had met, Morval stared at the stars above him, knowing that among them lay the extensions of his will. A hammer with which to purge the galaxy and finish the Great Record. A hammer of the gods. The Gideon was complete.

((Explaining alot of technical things now so I dont have to do that when the eventual battle is busy. Also, if you think that things described her are too OP please tell me, I dont want to appear godmodding or anything like that.))



Reports were coming in of the use of a Götterdämmerung and its meager effect. This would have been a shocking revelation to any naval officers, seeing their pet project failing. The weapon had never been used to ill intent before, it had only been tested on some feral worlds. But this was not a Navy ship, this ship was under the command of the Army.

Onboard the Grandcruiser "Armageddon" there was a woman grinning at these reports. She wore heavy plate armour with paldrons in the shape of eagle heads. Her white hair reached till her shoulderblades, although it was cut down at the sides of her head only having hair on the top and back. She stood infront of a commandscreen, observing her fleet as it moved into position to jump. She dwarfed the other officers in the room, standing 8'6 she appeared as a giant to the rest onboard. This was Anastasia Azazel, Duchess of the military world of Cadrias, nicknamed the Autarch's Angel of Death.

"So, the Navy fucked up again, what a suprise. The fools dont have the stomach for a proper war so they resort to their little toys. If I were that ground commander then I would want to rip Loken's spine out myself..."

It is no secret that the Navy and Army have an internal rivalship with eachother. Friendly fire between the two factions is all too common, even in peacetime. Almost every officer had a grudge with someone from the opposite branch and Azazel was no exception to this rule. She had some problems with some Lord Admirals aswell as with some aristocrats, but that was nothing she couldnt deal with. And at the moment she had far more pressing matters.

"My lady, we have gained the greenlight to jump. We are warned though, there is an enemy fleet orbiting the planet."

She smiled and responded; "What are the odds?"

"The Navy outnumbers the enemy in total, but at the moment only 15% of the active fleet is in range, Lord Vasar ordered only one of his battlegroups to engage. At the moment his fleet is struggeling to join the first battlegroup but they are taking heavy losses."

Spineless cowards. Not even daring to go all in with your plan... But what else is there to expect from them. Vasar is known as a cautious man, it worked out for him in the past but this is a whole new experience to deal with.

Azazel leaned over the commandscreen. The holographic images depicted the ongoing naval engagement. Loken had place his ships in a shield formation, with the Nova cruisers infront aproaching the enemy as fast as they could, taking heavy loses in the proces. The Athena and Fury classes were positioned behind them, firing their missiles over the Novas in the hope to destroy some enemy ships. Though many missiles were disabled by pointdefences and shields, some managed to damage some of the enemy ships and managed to destroy one medium sized one.

"What are your orders Duchess?" Her aide asked.

Without even thinking she gave out her order: "We will jump as close to the planet and make planetfall immediatly."

The Confederate Army's troop transport ships were equiped with heavy weaponry... But they were practically all meant for surface suppport, not space combat. They were heavily armoured though and the Army had some Grandcruiser which were capable of fighting in space. These ships however were not mostly automated like the Navy ships were. One Hierarch class Grandcruiser, like the Armageddon, had a crew of 130.000. The ships were huge and their armament was just as impressive. The Grandcruisers could provide an escort for the hundreds of transport ships and that was just the task they would be given.

Azazel was looking for a fight, a proper one at that. She didnt really bother with the naval engagements that much, she left that to the admirals. No, her specialty was groundwarfare. It was what she was bred for, litteraly. Azazel was the only survivour of a supersoldier project which explains her abnormal size. It increased her strength and stamina, aswell as her ability to think much faster then any other Pretorian ((Incase you didnt read my Nation's background, the Pretorians are the original species and Azazel might sound OP but I dont have magic and there is only one person with this spec, so give me a break would ya? :P)).

Her armour was made out of the best material the Confederacy could make, able to deflect direct plasma and laser weaponry it was near impervious for any small arms. This was ideal for Azazel's prefered weapon: Her great thunderhammer. This large warhammer incorporates an energy field emitter within its head that activates only when the hammer strikes its target. This allows the weapon to store a tremendous amount of energy and release it only at the moment of impact, producing a terrific blast of energy and concussive force like the crack of thunder, from which the name of the weapon originates. Both of these weapons were made specifically for Azazel and only she is able to use them effectivly due to their enormous weight.

As a final thing there is her unbreakable will. Pretorians by nature have a high pain boundry but Azazel's is even higher, barely able of feeling any pain and she has been indoctrinated so far that it is nearly impossible to make her fear anything. This has the downside ofcourse that she is bound to underestimate enemies and their weapons, ordering troops to charge head on into a fully entrenched enemy force is not rare for her to do.

This is why her nickname is both used as a praise and as a way of mocking for she will plow through enemy forces with ease, but she will suffer atleast a 70% loss of troops doing so.

"All hands, prepare for battlestations!"

The alarms start howling and the soldiers on all of the ships start to move to their assigned dropships and droppods. In total this fleet comprises of 50.000.000 ground troops who will all be expected to have made planetfall in under 10 hours. Lady Azazel has already made her way off the bridge, leaving her aide in command of the ship, she already gave the order to the fleet anyway. They are to move to the other side of the planet and start shelling the planet while the troops drop in.

As Azazel is striding to her droppod she sees collums of men marching to their ships. Their trenchcoats clean and boots and rifles polished, with their masks on the only thing distigueing them are the numbers on their shoulderpads, a name is much harder to keep track off then a number so it's much more efficient to see who died.

The jump is now nearly complete, in just a few seconds they will be orbiting this planet which has yet to be named. Once they come out of hyperspace it will only take a few seconds before the first dropships will start flying out of the hangers. Everything has been planned and there is barely any chance for a mistake to happen... Barely any.

Azazel buckles up in her droppod and counts down in her head:

3...
2...
1...
0...

The fleet jumps out of hyperspace, right in orbit over the planet. Immeditaly reports come in of casualties. Within ten seconds already three transport ships are reported to be obliterated. Some of the others report that their sensors are unable to read where they are and if they are in position. It has become obvious that a mistake was made, a minor calculation fault. Ships are being rammed, blasted to pieces and torn to shreds.

The mistake was a 0.0001 miscalculaton in the jump drives. Instead of ending up on the other side of the planet, the transport fleet flew straight into the enemy fleet. The result was utter chaos. Both enemy and friendly ships were ramming into eachother. Missiles fired from the Navy's ships were impacting Army transports. Hostile ships were firing their weapons at the transports. Some commanders decided that ramming the enemy ships was the best thing to do. But, no delay to the drop. Even if this was unexpected, they were all trained and prepared for a drop in hostile space. The droppods were launched, as were thousands of dropships. It seemed like rain falling down on the planet. Many droppods were destroyed by enemy flak weaponry, as were many dropships. Some even flew against debris from destroyed ships. The battle hadnt even started yet and already in the first seconds there had been so much damage to the invasion force. 5 million souls had already been lost in this campaign.

But all of this didnt matter to Azazel. She had already made contact with the planet's surface together with the 66th Cardia "Helldiver" Legion. They were already taking fire and as predicted the small arms projectiles were just absorbed by her armour. Her soldiers on the other hand were not so lucky. Limps were shot off, large gaping holes formed in their bodies. But the Pretorians barely felt pain... Especially when they were drugged up for an action like this. Even with their guts exposed the soldiers would scurry into defensive positions, didnt mean they would live long though.

Azazel calmly stepped towards the enemy emplacements. Only when they were really starting to focus her did she accelerate. She burst through a defensive wall with her shoulder and grabbed a Draconian by it's throat. Observing the new xeno she held in her hand for a while she eventually punched through his guy and ripped his intestines out. ((Dont know if that is allowed on this forum, if it isnt please tell me so I can rewrite it to something with less gore)) As the other Draconians saw what happened to their comrade they started to fire on her. Though the armour could take much, from this close even small arms were dangerous. She used to body of the Draconians as a shield and ran at the others, beating them to a pulp with her fists.

Hmm, they are not a frail species but still no match for my strength. At this rate I wont even have to use my hammer.

Just as she thought that some Draconians in battlesuits appeared. A grin formed on Azazel's face, though it was covered by her helmet. Now this seemed like the real deal, the others were probably just some personel quickly armed or had no time to put their suits on. She activated her hammer and dashed at the newly arived troops. It resulted in a one sided carnage.

After securing the emplacement single handidly she checked in with her troops. The reports were far less victorious. Heavy enemy resistance on all sides. Though the Confederate troops were clearly better diciplined and had a slight edge in ranged combat the enemy was clearly much more proficient in closecombat. Their energy swords cutting through the soldiers like they were but butter.

Hmm, maybe this is going to be fun after all.

It apeared that one Draconian was still alive, he was trying to crawl away and was talking to someone. Azazel slowly closed in on him, her footsteps leaving small tremors each time she put them down. She then place one of her armoured boots on the head of the Draconian.

"I hope whoever is on the other end of that line will enjoy this sound, because they will be next"

She slowly squezes the head, the Draconian screaming in agony until finally his skull gives up and all that remains is a large bloodstain.

Roman Colony World A-01 - Capital "Technology? That seems a fair price. Although ours is fairly complicated, you will need knowledge of it as well. Please excuse me." The Builder communed with the Congregation in an instant and nodded. He moved both his arms forward, in the gap between his 'palms' a light slowly manifested and became brighter, white-blue. It increased in size, malleable. The Builder turned to one of the stationary Seighis. The light still in his hand, now a sphere. The Seighis slowly floated over and hovered its shadowed limb over the light. The light in turn responded, it stretched and glowed brighter, until it was the shape of a sword, the light dimmed, as the Builder moved his hands upward, the Seighis returned to its original post. The white-blue sword now changed in color, starting from the pommel up to the edge, and to the tip. Now the blade was silver, its handguard a bronze, its handle a black, ringed with bronze as well, and its pommel was a deep... "cocoa" in color. "Hardlight. One of the millions of secrets of the Universe." The sword now on the table, moved slowly, pommel first, in the direction of the Governor, it stopped a few inches away from him. "This is a gift from I and the Congregation. And with the knowledge you deliver us, we will reveal more to you. Please accept this." He would have smiled, although his chiming voice was enough to notify of his pleasure.