"Hardlight...merely a theory. But if they really have this technology and can give it to us then it bests any kinetic weapon we have. It be a huge advantage on the Abh. I will give them the cultural information to see what we get, and once the effectiveness of the technology has been proven then I shall see to further exchanges." thought Klaus, pondering the blade for a minute as he spoke to him once again. "Thank you for this technology, I shall go ahead and provide cultural information on all 3 species of the New Roman Empire and see what you would give us for that. Beyond that once we have tested the technology we will contact you about further exchanges." spoke Klaus, handing the builder a flash-drive like device. "As you have been told before this artifact triggered the creation of Romus Humans from regular Humans. We gained greater strength, speed, agility, and intelligence, as well as psionics and Void Powers. It also is what we recently discovered granted us magic. Originally the artifact was dormant but ever since you awoke the magic in our species it is starting to become more active. We believe it may contain some pretty powerful secrets that both our nations could use." said Llyod, leading both groups into the university. It was well-built, with columns and rooms everywhere to suit the purposes of the Roa'marii teachers. As they marched further the Roa'marii detected a massive magical signature, it seemed dormant but was slowly becoming more active. The group finally arrived at a stairwell that seemed to go underground. "Are you ready to witness this artifact Roa'marii?" asked Lloyd, beckoning to the stairwell. "Your people hold a great legacy that I am sure all Romans would appreciate. We do hold value in honor, deeds, and glory. I have no wish to see the Statue Garden if you wish to take us further, after that I think I shall tour Arcadia alone, with my guards I should be fine. I do have to ask though, where is my son? Last I heard from some Roa'marii he had already grasped basic spellcraft quite well without much effort. " asked the Emperor, turning towards the Commander. "In this message is cultural information regarding the Romus Humans, as well as some biological information. Biological info only includes required nutrition, atmosphere, and gravity conditions due to High Command classifying further biological information due to possibility of use of such information by hostile powers to create bio-weapons to use on Romus Humans." A renewed Roman Fleet appeared in the system, with a large dreadnought leading it. In total 200 ships appeared before the Abh Backwater colony, with 100s of large troop transport behind it. The fleet immediately went to wiping out any ships or defenses in the system, as they begun blockading the system. It was to be noted that ships or stations without any weapons were not destroyed, merely disabled as the Romans began preparing to invade the planet. Aurora sat at her command console, aboard the Royal ship which was in the middle of the fleet for safety. She watched her fleet combating the Abh, as she thought about her next moves. "I will take an Abh world for the Empire. Nothing will stop me." thought Aurora.

The Listening Post stood on the border between Abh and Roman space, and was one of the few constructions equipped with an FTL comms array. Nobody knew how the hell it worked, but it did, and that was good enough for them. A large starship, about the size of a Dreadnought, was docked with the station. Interestingly, it was the one that responded, undocking and heading out to meet the alien vessel. "This is Countess Lasis, currently commanding the Imperial Warship Tomerarenai-fū. You are in the system known to us as Development Target 231, but we far more commonly use the name Gateway to Lakfakalle." Lasis seemed like she was going to explain that name. However, she refrained from doing so, deciding that she would rather not let the aliens know that nobody actually knew what any of those words meant. It was a name that they had borrowed from the ancient archives, and only a few people knew any of the Ancient language. Even then, they all only knew the second word in the name, which provided absolute no context whatsoever since it was a preposition. "This system is held by the Eight World's Empire, and the year according to our calendar is 429 A.F. According to the calendar of the people who once inhabited this area, the year is somewhere around 1,000,000, our best estimate is 1,053,400. The difference between calendars is negligible, though they apparently based their months around the phases of their moon rather than simply using them as a way to break up years into equal parts." Even as she spoke, she felt her stomach tighten up. Her transplanted seniichi tingled, and everyone else on the ship seemed to be feeling the same way. She could almost hear a voice yelling at her, desperately telling her to open fire. It was so powerful that it was all she could do to not follow its orders. The Empress looked on as everyone watched the Naga steal from the town's inhabitants, her teeth clenched and hands in fists. Her ears twitched over and over again on every gunshot, again like instinct. She clutched her katana like she planned to use it, though she knew that she would barely be able to move out of the building before being shot. Or worse, taken prisoner. Still, she couldn't stand the sight. The Naga swept through the town without any kind of remorse, not caring what happened to its inhabitants. And all the time, doctors just watched, doctors. Any Abh doctor who stood and watched as a gang raided a town would be cast out of their house. "I don't believe it, I'm forced to run from battle, and now I'm just watching as innocent people are robbed and shot." She said, her eyes fixated on the Naga leader. Doctor Ire'merok would likely notice her grip on her katana tighten, as well as her arm muscles become tenser. She tried to raise it, but she barely had enough strength to stand, even with the Doctor's help. Her jaw suddenly fell open in horror as she realized that she couldn't raise her katana, and she weakly turned her head to look at the Doctor. With the look on her face, one would have thought that she had seen some unspeakable horror. "I-I... I'm... I can't..." She stuttered, words refusing to come. She dropped her katana on the floor, staring at the Doctor like she wasn't there. "No... not this... anything but this..." Her gaze fell down to the floor, and her entire body tensed, something she in all honesty should not have been able to accomplish. She raised her head once again, scowling at the Naga leader. "The tank... does it have a binary digital control system?" She said, raising her arm (now free of the weight of the katana) to her ear, grabbing hold of what seemed to be an earring. "I can't protect any of them with my katana and I can't take my own life with it either, but there might still be a way for me to be called an Empress." A message was sent to the Roa'marii fleet, the same Admiral who had devised the plan speaking to them. "I suppose the leader of our defense would be me, the Count of this world had no children, and he died in the battle. Our people do not make it a habit to kill those who have no intent of doing the same to us, especially not those who ask for peace with true words. I am glad that you don't want to fight us, I have had enough of this killing. It is odd that you would be working with our enemy though, your words do not strike me as those of a person who would condone what they have done. Nevermind that though, I would rather have that conversation with you in person." The colony of Heiwa no tochi wasn't a normal Abh planet, and it wasn't inhabited by normal Abh. The entire colony was made up of those exiled from the homeworld, though trade vessels still passed through from time to time. At this point, the original exiles were nearing the end of their lives, and the majority of its inhabitants were considered fully legitimate Imperial citizens. Even so, they had been taught by the exiles, and the Abh of this world wouldn't fit in anywhere else. None of them had any ancient weapons inherited from their ancestors, and the few weapons on the planet were for hunting. The original exiles were, after all, there because they refused to fight, refused to kill another sentient being. Now, they had no way to defend themselves. The few trade ships in orbit opened fire on the Roman fleet, but were inevitably destroyed in seconds. As the Roman transports began to land, the soldiers found that the only resistance was a few hunters, who surrendered when they knew they couldn't win. It was obvious that these Abh were different, no Abh the Romans had ever encountered before had surrendered. ((Sorry for the bad post, but I'm busy and burned out at the moment))

Aurora looked confused as her forces marched into the Abh's cities on the world, taking them without effort. Unlike at Kibo-Hosh the Abh did not fight, with the few meager hunters surrendering instantly. "Why are the Abh doing this? This is not them at all." said Aurora, as she called for the construction ships to warp into the system and begin building. Shortly after that they arrived and began building defenses everywhere, and mines in the asteroids. They seemed intent on securing and fortifying the system as much as responsible. "They are exiles actually, although a good portion of them apparently aren't at this point. They were exiled because they did not wish to kill other sentients, thus defying the Abh's culture norms." responded the Admiral assisting Aurora. "Regardless proceed with our original plan, the only way we will truly ever defeat the Abh is to strip them of their Abh identity. Words on Sakuradite deposits?" asked Aurora, turning towards the Admiral. "Medium-sized deposits have been detected on both the planet and in asteroids in the system. Assuming we can mobolize the Abh as workforce, we could be mining enough to build up a good-sized army of Knightmare Frames." said the Admiral. "Excellent, proceed with all objectives." said Aurora. As combined armies of the Imperial Guard and Bellator marched down the streets of the Abh cities, knocking down any Abh Flags and replacing them with the crossed Golden Swords and red background of the Roman flag. They setup a simple speaker system as they marched, paying no attention to the Abh watching themselves. When the Romans were finished they took the governmental buildings, and then broadcasted a message through the speaker system. "This planet is to hereby be refereed to as Area 1, and all people of this world to be refered to as 1s instead of Abh. All 1s are to report to main governmental structures and give their names as well as a blood sample to your new officials. Prince Clovis la Italia is hereby Governor of the world. All companies and businesses are hereby dissolved. All farms, mines, and factories are hereby property of the Roman Government and by extension our Glorious Emperor Apollo Callisto. Rebellions will be dealt with by extreme force. Any 1s wishing to serve their new rulers can report to the main governmental office to apply for the local Imperial Guard regiments, which opens up path to honorary citizenship." After that, a new message played. "This is your new Governor Prince Clovis la Italia speaking. I expect nothing less then absolute effort. Do not fail me my subjects." After that the Roman anthem began playing across the speakers. ((Yes it says All Hail Britannia, just replace all instances of Britannia with Italia and that is the Roman's anthem. Clovis la Italia will be explained in later flavor posts.))

Order shall prevail GHOST "Move!" The Elite growled, shoving aside his Officer Unit and approaching the metal door. The small black shimmer of energy activated from his gauntlet, exciting the air around it and producing a dull electronic hum. He shoved it though the door and let it evaporate into nothingness, the exotic energies cancelling out it's weight and making it float for a minute before being obliterated, leaving no trace of it's existence but what the warm air would tell. "Inject." He ordered, letting the units file in before him and move slowly down the corridor, their weaponry at the ready, scanning the niches in the old, cracked bricks of the sewer walls. The distant sound of dripping water echoed through the empty tunnels, it was a noise that would slowly drill it's self into your skull with it's monotony, two notes repeated in a bar in a symphony ad infinitum. Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop. For not the first time, the units of GHOST Division wondered how any Anti-Kyn managed to retain their sanity within this dull place, where you were as likely to stumble across a corpse or a drop to oblivion as you were to find your foot land on the stone floor. Dark deals were made here, sometimes under the influence of drink... And sometimes the influence is the barrel of a gun or the point of knife. The point unit, an Officer with the digits 00231, paused and held up his hand to stop the other units from moving. Silently, the machine like units ground to a halt, hands clasped around cold metal weapons and scanning further down the tunnel. Slowly, the Officer and an 01 advanced down the dark tunnel, careful to tread lightly rather than risk alerting their prey. They turned the corner and their eyes came to rest on a armed guard over looking a dimly lit room below. Vaguely the two could make out the shadows of several armed anti-kyn surrounding what appeared to be an old weapons crate, probably smuggled off sight during the invasion and hid until now. It was apparently that they were unpacking it and moving the weaponry into smaller crates, probably for ease of transport. The Officer slung his weapon quietly and took a few steps forwards, grabbing the armed guard from behind and quickly moving backwards with him into the shadows. With a single, fluid motion from his right hand the augmented protection unit snapped the anti-kyns neck, spinning it 180 degree's so that the rebels quickly fading eyes came face to face with his expressionless mask, a horrifying final sight for anyone to see. He dragged the man back into the shadows and slit his throat for good measure, ensuring the man was never going to survive his run in with the protectione teams. He took his final breaths, his eyes still open and staring blankly at the world around him. For all intents and purposes, one might consider the remaining anti-kyn dead the second GHOST Division approached the room. Their weaponry, their equipment, their physiology and indeed even their mentality was superior to their anti-kyn counter parts. GHOST Division was, for want of a better term, the SWAT of Civilis Protectione. They were responsible for tens of thousands of confirmed anti-kyn group destructions and, among their other duties, served as an internal affairs division for the Civilis Protectione, keeping the other units in line and dealing with any who stepped out of line with a much reputed brutality and efficiency. A visit to GHOST's offices meant one of two things; The recipient was a highly successful unit... or he was a complete and abhorrent failure. There was no middle ground in the eyes of GHOST. The shadowy units swept silently into the room, taking up position looking down on the anti-kyn with disgust. This was, as far as they were concerned thanks to decades of Collective thinking, their natural position. They stood above the ants, the morally bankrupt insects that eagerly bore into the nests the Collective had made for them. The soft yet deadly shadows raised their weapons and at once opened fire with inhuman precision on the unsuspecting creatures below, twisted and scornful, those who had sold out their species in favour of their own nefarious ends. Those who refused to accept, as all men must, that fighting against something which loved you was pointless. The streaks of green plasma, the silent explosions of their advanced weapons, the beams of light that exited the side arms of the GHOST units... all this and more sent their foes dashing to cover, ducking below their opponents fire. But few made it to cover, those which didn't collapsed from the onslaught, some of them still breathing into the slimy waters behind them. The water was so cold and cruel, and it would be the last thing they felt, cries echoing throughout the room as the falling bodies performed their danse-macabre The Elite charged forwards and vaulted over the railing, landing on the floor below with a swift roll to absorb the impact before breaking into a sprint at a speed that far exceeded those of even the fastest human. As he broke towards the concrete jersey barrier the rebel before him rose and spun, firing off his machine pistol without taking a moment to aim. Though the 5.56 rounds peppered the Elites armour he continued forward, undeterred and merely slowed by the primitive assault against his power armour. The technology of the Collective imbued those favoured with feats far beyond anything the human inhabitants had ever encountered before the Triarii found them and occupied their worlds in the short war. He smashed through the concrete barrier as if it were nothing and seized the man by the throat, spinning to face the other two rebels and using their ally as a shield to guard against their bullets. Blood spewed out from the screaming rebels body before he was swiftly silenced by the crushing over his neck, crimson blood leaking from between the fingers of the Elite unit and bones jutting out through the rebel now torn and broken flesh, his eyes rolling back into his skull in his final moments. The Elite spun sharply and launched the corpse towards the two remaining rebels, hoping to force them to move out from behind the cover before they could reload. One was too slow and was caught by the flying body, a sickening crunch resounding through the stone tomb as her neck was snapped by the force of her former ally smashing against her face, her skull caving in like a broken birds egg, the chit of bone scattering around the floor. The other rebel, scrambling in a vain attempt to get away, was quickly bathed in green and melted into nothingness by the rest of GHOST Division as they fired their weaponry towards him. Scanning the dark room for any more hidden foes, and content on finding none, the Elite signalled for them to begin policing the weaponry in the room. The forces began to climb over the railing and drop to the floor, slinging their weaponry and dashing over to the corpses, careful to check all targets were deceased and never dropping their guard for even a fraction of a moment as they operated with near surgical precision. Several units dashed to the entrances, their weapons in hands, moving around objects to create cover and standing sentinel over the proceedings. The Officer approached the Elite to issue a report, his cold metal weapon grasped tightly in his hands. He had joined to forget a hopeless love. He succeeded and what occupied his mind now were much different thoughts than those old days. Broken men don't oppose you when you tell them you will fix their problems. The Elite himself new that for a fact; As a sufferer of a rare birth defect, had it not been for the Collective secret sciences he would have died at birth. It was lucky then, that he had been born after the Collective invasion rather than before, though some might consider that a more cruel twist of faith depending on their... political orientation. "17 647E amputated, Praelatus Meus. Prime Level Contraband is being policed. Overwatch reports possible miscount, there should be 18 647E, requesting permission to take three unit protection team and sweep for suspect around this area." The Officer reported slowly to the Elite, who glanced quickly around the room for a moment before nodding "Affirmative, sweep for suspect, protection underway." He returned after a brief paused, before waving the Officer off. The Officer spun on his heel and marched off across the room, gesturing to three units with his fingers and signalling for them to form up on him, leaving the Elite to continue his overseeing of the units task. Though their eyes did not pry so deep into these sewers as they did with the rest of this city, the units who performed this duty in GHOST and sometimes less Elite divisions know one thing; Whatever happens, Order shall prevail. Roman Contact Space above New Scotland Situation: Failure to comply fully with information request The cold female voice rung out again without another moments notice, piercing the dull of space with it's medical news speak "Overwatch reports exogen failure to provide sufficent information. Overwatch confirms exogen non-cooperative intent. Collective extends appropriate civil thanks for cultural information, request knowledge on declared space boundaries to avoid criminal trespass."

Outer Space, System 97 A few Roman ships jumped into the system, and immediately began scanning. After the loss of A-02 orders were sent out to go to systems which had been marked on maps but not explored, and determine which one would be best to colonize. After scanning the sole planet was any atmosphere chatter occurred between the scout ships. "Hang on, these scans match bio-scans taken from our first contact with the entity known as the Collective." reported the first. "They also seem to indicated...holy hell their psionic power appears to have been off the chart. We thought the Collective had strong psionics but these scans if accurate make the Collective look like they just discovered their gift." responded the second. "Orders? Scans indicate potentially valuable technological and old signals that still linger indicate they were called the Aetherii." "We should contact them about this. It is possible the Aetherii had a hand in creating some of the species of the Collective due to the bio-scans, and because of how advanced they probably are their assistance in decrypting the technology could be useful." Collective Space "Starmap data transmitted, the New Roman Empire requests similar data on borders so as to not cause disturbances. Of note is that the New Roman Empire is currently at conflict with a species known as the Abh, they are extremely aggressive, more so then us, and have extreme strength due to their muscle density. If the Collective were to assist with the war, they could potentially take a few concession worlds from the Abh." The ship stopped transmitting for a minute, and started again. "Scouts report that bio-scans taking of your Psionic species indicate similarities to a species that scouts have discovered are known as the Aetherii. Scans also indicate highly valuable technology and archives. R&D is asking if the Collective would like to cooperate with the New Roman Empire and decrypt the archives and tech. Any recovered technology and data would be shared between our two nations."

Roman Contact Space above New Scotland Situation: Two times exogen propositions, Considering. There was a pause, almost as if for thought. High muscle density was a relatively easy to subsume trait and indeed relatively easy to integrate so far as one didn't go too far with it and let it become dangerous to the subject it's self. However, a new species could always have hidden potential and the acquisition of alien knowledge was far too tempting to pass up, in respects to both offers. For now, they'd keep silent on their knowledge of the later, for what little they did have was really pieced together from old stories. "Overwatch transmitting general area boundaries. Overwatch acknowledges Collective approval of both offered scenarios. Request further information".

Collective Space The ship opened up its transmission channels again. "Included in this message is the full military capabilities of the Abh, both ground and space. With assistance from your nation the war can be ended swiftly. Further information can not be provided on the Aetherii as what data has already been provided is what we have, however location of the system has been provided. Requesting construction materials and scientific devices to assist in the construction of the lab."

Roman ContactSpace above New Scotland Situation: Injecting. Zero. Zero "Overwatch acknowledges received information; Preparing forces for warfare. Request knowledge on current offences and data on where forces are required. Overwatch acknowledges request; Munitor and Argutus Augmentation forces dispatched and inbound to location of lost Aetherii site with SPECTRE escort. Boundaries processed, language subsumed. Requesting knowledge on other known exogen species and information regarding their current activities."

Collective Space The ship began transmitting. "Data transmitted on all other known non-Roman species. No current offensives are planned as we are currently securing a world that we recently took from the Abh. Location to the recently conquered world is provided as Princess Aurora vi Italia is leading the offensive, and likely has the next plans. A few battle groups are also requested to help defend our home system. The Abh and Roman Capital Worlds are in the same system, neither of us has engaged as we have realized the suicide of that but a few battle groups would be good, just in case."

Roman Contact Space above New Scotland Situation: Confirm, Zero, Extract "Alert; Equitem teams dispatched to fulfil standing commitments. Vacate collective space if lacking further requests" The Civilis Protectione ships turned away and headed back towards the planet, a single one hanging around to ghost the alien ship, as one drifted down to the planet to return it's crew from the off world task they had been given Heiwa no tochi Space Above Heiwa no tichi Situation: Inject, locate, inquire There was a small shimmer on the edge of the system as a Collective fleet dropped in, gliding across the blackness of space towards the occupied planet. There was a low whining noise at first from the communications, followed by the sudden interjection of a echoing, electronic voice. Another vocoder that was so prevalent within the Collective for little reason other than to mask the identity of the speaker... even when that was completely unnecessary as it was now, and they were about to introduce themselves. The idea of a faceless force was often useful for ensuring the idea that the Collective was an omnipotent force that could crush any resistance without a second thought, consigning those so inclined to the abyss of history. "This is the voice of Fleet Master Tiberius Corvus, shipmaster of the Tyrannis. We represent the Collective of Civilised Species and we have been in contact with the powers that be within your nations command and were directed here to collect plans for further conquest and meet up with the forces of one Princess Aurora vi Italia. Respond." On the bridge of the Tyrannis, the Fleet Master stood with his hands clasped behind his back, staring at the screens before him as data flowed through his mind, courtesy of his bridge officers and Overwatch. He sighed heavily as he awaited his response, quickly running some diagnostic checks of the ship. When away on such business he found it useful to keep his mind heavily occupied, lest it stray back home. Roman/Abh home system (Yes I forgot the name) Sector White 1 Situation: Inject, Inquire, Diagnose Again there was a distinct shimmer on the edge of the system as several battlegroups jumped into the system, the sun reflecting off them and giving their otherwise dull metal design a glow of life and light. They advanced slowly, transmitting a message to the Roman leadership "This is the voice of Fleet Master Gaius Cornicen, ship master of the Dux. This one represents the Collective of Civilised Species and has been in contact witht he powers that be for the Roman Empire. Requesting immediate confirmation and further advised directives."

Inquisition Headquarters Flames flickered fleetingly in the under-areas of the Inquisition headquarters, casting dancing shadows upon the passageways. Colors ranged from dull red to an almost black purple, yet all radiated at the same brightness as any other. Outside of military usage, magefire found utilization in areas of power systems and some machines. Hundreds of Sakari inhabited the massive building, each preoccupied with their own work, work necessary for the survival and betterment of the Dominion. Spires from the Inquisitorial palace pierced the sky, dark crenelations absorbing all light that came near, shrouding the structure in darkness. Each spire, of which there were 13, housed dozens of communications centers, interrogation rooms, armories, and personal quarters, fortresses in their own right not including the hidden weapons arrayed along the outside of the palace. Deep under the surface of the planet lay the Sanctum Fellbjorn, the true and beating heart of the Dominion. Darkness lay permanent over the corridors and rooms of the complex, lit only by small electric lights every hundred meters. None working there had a need for light, nor would they ever again, having long ago traded their organic eyes for cybernetic replacements fitted with various sensors. If any without such enhancements had need of venturing into the long dark, special equipment would be provided to them, allowing the user to traverse the passageways unhindered. Lord Inquisitor Boreal Autrich ported one such device. Stepping monotonously behind one of the Deep Walkers, the unofficial name of the servitors which operated in this dark place. Groans of ancient machinery turning reverberated throughout the halls, deafening any that did not have protection. Groans sounded from ahead as an unknown construct moved, operating for an unknown master for an unknown reason. Yet that did no preoccupy the Inquisitor's mind. What worried him was the door which suddenly appeared before him. Glancing around, Boreal found the Deep Walker to have vanished, leaving no trace as to its whereabouts. Above the portal lay an inscription reading And They Shall Know No Fear. Unsettling, in some ways. Uncertain as to further action, a path opened itself to him as the door hissed, gears sounding from behind slabs of metal meters thick. Whatever moved such a massive opening must be massive itself. Small lights burned throughout the room, smoke rising from the sources in scented swirls. Incense. Highlighted by the faint light and twirling shadows were the carvings arrayed across the back of the room, eldritch iconography and archaic symbols gracing the stone panels. In the center of the room sat a figure clad in silver, metal kept in a constant state of fluidity by some unknown method. Devoid of hair, the Sakari's eyes, for that is what he was, stared at Boreal, orbs of speckled grey and white. For once in his life, Boreal felt afraid. Not even in the presence of Morval the Ascended had he experienced such a deep feeling of foreboding, that his life could be snipped as a string. "Welcome, Boreal. Do come in," came a hoarse voice, sounding as sand paper does when scratched against a stone. Stepping through the doorway slowly, the Inquisitor drew his burgundy cloak close. The permanent chill of the deep world appeared even more marked in this vault. "Do you know why you were summoned here, Inquisitor?" rasped the voice again. "No. If I may be so bold, may I inquire as to your name?" "A name matters not. Realize simply that you know not what you think you do. Tell me, Inquisitor, how many have fallen to your hand, how many worlds burned before relegated to the writhing streams of life with which we seed the planet once again?" "Three. Three worlds have I put to the torch. May I request your position, then?" "Position matter not either. To settle your mind, however, I shall deign to answer your question. Only Morval stands above me, and only just." Springing from the ground, Boreal reached for his pistol while yelling, "THAT IS-" His voice cut off as a force gripped him, preventing his lips and hands from moving. "That is what, heresy? Morval has been subjected to questioning before and the questioner let free. I simply state a fact which in no way degrades him. Now, my little Inquisitor, would you like to hear why I summoned you to the Sanctum?" The force released him from its grip, allowing his hand to return to its natural position. Seating himself slowly, Boreal eyed the 'man' askance. "Tell me what it is you desire." A smile touched the lips of the being. Gateway Prazhnal Prazhnal, as the name of the planet implied, served as a conduit between the Dominion of C'ran and the rest of the galaxy. Multiple such Gateway worlds existed, each hosting a dedicated defense fleet independent of the Naval forces. Each planet of this nature featured massive stardocks, facilities stretching dozens if not hundreds of kilometers to accommodate all manners of ships in all quantities. Wreathed in permanent shields and armed with a plethora of weapons, these repair yards also acted as fortresses, an intimidating presence which would be almost impossible to ignore without serious consequence. Prazhnal itself maintained two such stardocks. Shields coated the planets as well, adding a sheen to the dull surface, preventing any form of landing unless special frequencies were transmitted or the shield was destroyed, an arduous task given the nature of the generators. Following the Council of Orithica, the Anointed had returned to their planets and spread the message of Morval, one filled with fervor and terror. The Return was commencing. Never before had such a massive operation been undertaken by the nation of C'ran, not even during the Unification period. Expeditionary Fleets, the former glories of C'ran and largest operation at the time, had ceased to exist, disbanded so that the vessels could be integrated into the Corennai, the Heralds of the Return. Across the stars would the touch of C'ran spread, spread until there was no more room to expand in the galaxy. Then would their eyes turn outwards, to galaxies distant, especially one close by. For now, however, their eyes would turn inwards. Each Gateway planet featured a massive artifact, presrved from before the Unification. Massive rings of gleaming metal, the machines glowed blue in the sky, gold when seen in the emptiness of space. A light sprang out from six points along the Gate, moving slowly until they met in the center, a point of concentrated energy nearing the Planck temperature. Within moments it collapsed, struck by a bolt of magic from the ring. Condensing, it exploded outwards, filling the gate so that it appeared to be filled with silver. A similar occurrence happened at each Gateway world, preparing to send off the fleets. An ungiven order issued itself, urging the Corennai to advance. As one, they began to enter the Gates, leaping off into the reaches of space, leaving behind C'ran. At Prazhnal, one ship waited until all others had left. Across the entirety of the Dominion one message was heard: "I shall return, my children." Then it too, advanced into the Gate consumed in light. So began the voyage of the Gideon.

Heiwa no tochi, Space Aurora watched the Collective's forces. She liked their method, remaining faceless was always valuable. The Collective fleet was only a 100 to the Roman's 200, but the scans of their ships showed that that was more then enough none the less. She pressed the button on the transmission counciled and opened a line to the Collective's ship. "I am indeed Princess Aurora vi Italia. Originally my plan was merely to take the outer colonies and from there put pressure onto them to sign a peace treaty, but with your forces we can take a much more crippling offensive to the Abh.Do note though...you will need quite a few troops. Even the quote unquote Abh civilians have weapons, so we will be facing heavy resistance the whole way. The planet we will conquer, Kibō-hosh, was planned to be incorporated as Roman territory. This is the one we shall attack, and while we take it I promise that the next world will be given to you. If there is nothing else I can detail you the exact plan for Kibō-hosh aboard my personnel command ship, we shall bring a swift end to this war my new friends." After that a dreadnought came out of the center of the fleet, and unlike the other two it had much more gold trimming and held the flag of the New Roman Empire. A docking bay opened up underneath it, indicating where the Collective was to dock. ((If a 100 is not the number of Collective ships then I understand, just adjust as you need to Dark.)) New Rome, the Golden System Several Roman ships went nearer to the Collective ships, but after that they backed off. A Dreadnought was instead seen pulling forward. "Welcome, your assistance is greatly appreciated. Not to far as you can see as a massive line of Abh and Roman ships, it has become no man's land of sorts. Neither us is willing to engage due to fears of losing our capital worlds, but however just in-case we needed your ships to reinforce our line. Join the formation in any order as you please." Much as the voice had said there was a huge line of Roman and Abh ships within the system, however neither had fired. It sorta of acted as a border between the Abh and Romans. Collective Space "This battle group shall withdraw to the Aetherii planet to assist in defense of it. We will see you there." With that the Roman fleet disappeared off into the void. ((Please open up the Aetherii world Dark.))

General Kaisur smiled at the Abh response. He was more than happy to get to know these Xenos and perhaps strike up an alliance of sorts. Hell, even just making true first contact would be more productive than anything the Romans had tried. If all things went well, he might even be able to negotiate a ceasefire of some sort between the two. The Abh defense against the Roman invasion force proved they were formidable fighters at least, and Jer'rahd never passed up an opportunity to meet with a strong civilization. He transmitted a response back to the Abh.

"An opportunity to meet in person would be much appreciated. As stated before, I am Roa'marii General Jer'rahd Kaisur. I am the highest ranking of the five Roa'marii Generals and speak with the authority of the Roa'marii Nightmare Emperor. I will descend with my fleet to low orbit before a transport will carry myself and a squad of Roa'marii soldiers to the outskirts of the city set upon by the Roman armies. We will wait there for any envoys you see fit to send and will then proceed with them to wherever you wish to speak. While we are not familiar with your customs, I hope this plan of action will be sufficient for our first contact."

Once this message was sent, another was sent to the Draconian fleet.

"Draconian fleet Sovereign Hope, I wish no hostilities with your people, but if you are here merely as the result of a FTL malfunction then we will leave you to do as you wish. Just know that we have our weapons ready to fire should we need to. If you wish to meet then you may do so after we are finished talking to the Abh."

The General then turned and ordered the Roa'marii fleet to move into position in low orbit. Once this was done he left the bridge, heading down to his personal armory before making his way to the hangar bay. There he met a group of soldiers, 6 from the 42nd legion and 6 from the 69th. They would be his honor guard down on the Abh planet before him. This was going to be an interesting meeting. Time to find out how the Abh held up to the Roman depiction of them.

"Yes, I am ready to see what granted a formerly non magical species access to the arcane. Let's go down shall we?"

They then continued down the stairs and into the chamber that held the artifact. Commander Sca'reti walked in to see the Roman artifact and froze. Upon seeing the artifact, her eyes grew wide and her jaw dropped. Before her, the artifact pulsed gently, a black glow seeming to emanate from it upon her presence. This glow brightened ever so slightly as she came near it, tendrils of the black glow almost seeming to reach out to her. She stopped just short of it before falling to her knees, hands bracing her on the floor to keep her from collapsing completely. She then began to murmur to herself.

"No, it can't be. It's not possible, they were sent to the depths of Hell and scattered. They couldn't have influenced anything from there. Their corruption couldn't have gotten out. Unless... No... No, no, no. This can't be happening. They will not take me again. I won't let them. Never. Never! I will not be your pawn Dark One!"

With that meltdown, Sca'reti got up quickly and ran from the room as the Romans could only watch. She stopped soon after leaving sight of the artifact, but still she shook, shivering as she stood there, eyes wide. Suddenly, those eyes flashed blood red before returning once more to their natural shade. She then stood tall, shivers stopping completely. She closed her eyes for a moment before turning and walking back towards the artifact's room. Before reaching it she met with the Roman scientist... She couldn't remember his name. She had forgotten them all. Where was she again? Why was she here? She needed to play this safe.

"I apologize for that, something came over me. I assure you I am fine. Now, what were we doing again?"

"Very well, we shall leave the Garden in that case. As for your son, I believe he was taken to Training Camp Lar'varis to be trained under General Blu'deri Escal and the Prime Magus. I can arrange for you to go there if you wish."

Doctor Ire'merok gave the Abh Empress a look of slight confusion before she responded.

"Yes, I do believe the Naga outfit their tanks with such a system in order to make it easier to pilot any type of tank they may get ahold of. But I'm not sure how that would be useful. You would need to get into the tank to access it. Also, the citizens here know how to fight. It is Roa'marii law that all citizens go through basic military training. The Naga have power on their side, but we can defend ourselves should we need to. They know this, and wouldn't dare attack our citizens, lest we all fight back. The naga would likely win, but it would cost them lives as well as this town. No, they will take our supplies and leave as they always do. But tell me, what do you plan to do?"

A high pitch scream came from artillery rounds, hammering the trenches. Sporadic gunfire was heard across the northern trenches. Death was everywhere. The moaning of the dying, the screams of bleeding men and the stunning silence of dead comrades. The thick fog was hell for the defenders and the constant waves of enemy soldiers taking a toll on the northern lines.

Sergeant Anton Von Wilch led the under strength, tired and beaten Fy'Re company through the maze, silently flicking the safety switch on BPW on and off. It was a habit the training instructors couldn't remove, no matter the punishment. His black and brown standard combat armour was being covered crimson and blood. A scrunch was heard under his boot and looked down.

An enemy pirate was dug into the dirt, moaning and groaning. His eyes grotesquely hung out of it's sockets, hanging like golf balls. The man let out a strained call for help while Anton fired a three shot burst to the mans head, turning it into a blood red mess. He carried on while the rest of his men kept marching behind him. A gunshot rang and Anton span to face behind him, along with his men.

Private Adolf Von Titus, the only other original Fy'Re man among the replacements excluding the Rangers, fired into the man with his SMG, continuously firing into the bloody mess. One of the replacements moved to help him but Anton stopped him. He shook his head and started walking off, along with the near broken 117th. The group collectively realised together that they would all become like him. Former shells of themselves. Broken shells of their former glory. Sullenly, they carried on, the sound of qAdolf firing into the now, red mass of flesh and bone flow into the wind.

They reached the edge of the trench when a horn blew, signalling the daily charge towards the enemy lines. Slamming his fist on the palm of his left hand in a hammer like fashion, Anton and his company climbed up the trench and into the eerie blood and disease ridden crap hole called no man's land. They spread thinly and joined up with remnants of other broken companies, finding comfort in numbers. They came to a hundred meters before the artillery came, whistling towards their line.

Men turned into bloody mess, death and destruction raining upon them. "TA'JI TEL DEMOCRACIES!!!!" The company flag bearer, a Ranger by the name of Tal'Tor Si'Te charged with the company flag on his back, spewing his flamethrower into the enemy trenches. Rangers were almost as common as Krieg foot sluggers and has seen combat in all Democracies Campaigns. The low mechanical whir came from their mechanical counterparts, fighting with their comrades. "KILL THE CORRUPT, BURN THE EVIL AND SLAP THE HELL OUT OF SLAVERY!!! FOR LADY LIBERTY!!!" shouted the ecstatic AI. He stomped on a pirate, crushing the poor man into a bloody mesh.

Anton fired a stream of rounds towards the enemy lines, fiery bullets going wild as his accuracy has degraded to an almost pathetic level in the years that has past. He saw a stop in the firing and sprinted towards the line, catching up to the enormous Tal'Tor. He jumped into the trench with a small grunt of exertion and landed on the cold dirt. The Krieg quickly got off the blood red dirt and marched deeper into the trenches.



"ANTON!!! Wake up ya lazy sod!"

Admiral Anton Von Wilch winced quietly, having dozed off into his dream state. The glory of the Ly'Nus Campaign emblazoned on his chest and in his heart. He blinked slowly, letting a yawn out. They have been in transit for three days and that took a toll on the Admiral. Constantly checking for an opening in Flingshot takes time. Thought it seems that an operative found one and is alerting him.

"What the corruption is wrong with you, Brian?"

The furious operative snarled and bit back "Well, sir, we have just appeared in an unknown system, light years away from the fucking borders!". His face was red with anger, eyes bulging.

The Admiral just made a dismissive hand movement and sat up on his chair, yawning as he did so. The system was nothing special, a garden world or two and gas giants a plenty. He took the roll, standard in his line of work.

"Admiral Anton here, Dreadnought Valiant Hearts rigged up and ready."

"Captain Joel, Dreadnought Brave Heart ready. Stop sleeping Admiral."

'Cocky bastard' Anton grimaced.

"Captain Lay'Pus, Dreadnought Hero of the Poor is upping and going, sir."

"Captain Rus, Carrier Oppressed Killer is blah blah blah. You know sir, I thin-"

"Captain Rebecca, Carrier Brothers In Arms is ready. Shut up Rus."

"Captain Willhelm, Cruiser Call of Duty is charged."

The Admiral silently muted the channel as the fleet reported in, looking like he was actually listening. For some unknown reason, his fleet was bolstered up to a large degree. Having three dreadnoughts and two carriers may have seemed to be a bit of overkill. Especially with the frigate and cruiser wolf packs that formed behind, the 54th was certainly a force to be reckoned with.

Sure the fleet wasn't as big as any of the home fleets but it was still a group the admiral was proud to lead. He pondered of the possible ramifications new territory can give to the Democracies. To be honest, he thought that the nation needed this. In the past, the numerous planets were new and weren't needed. Now with the overpopulation problem, the Democracies needed new garden worlds. The hundreds of space stations that were dotted around Democracies territory weren't as sufficient as the leadership thought.

Anton thought back to the troops under his command. General Tar'No Sis is currently conducting drills in the bay, the numerous Tar'Lik, Krieg and Tayt troops perfecting the Art of War. He missed his footslogger days, in the dirt with the 117th, fighting alongside brothers and sisters in arms. 'Hm, that'll be a good idea. I'll visit the General and give him some tips.' Anton thought while looking at the vastness of space.

Then he saw the ships that were speeding his way, definitely alien in design. Letting out a small groan, he nodded to the strangely calm bridge crew to get to work. Once they sent the First Contact package, he gave a hand motion and saw as the local Tar'Lik readied his mind, reaching out to the ones onboard.

"Hello there, I come in peace" the slight echo in his voice was due to the Tar'Lik "I hail from the Tay'Ran Jik Democracies and I was sent here to find new territory. I see that you have occupied this system so I shall do no harm. I wish for cooperation between our countries. I have sent you the first contact package to your ships hardware. If you would like, I will send the diplomats onboard and five security guards to board your ships and conduct negotiations between our two stellar nations."

Anton waited for a response.

((I shall wait for someone to just reply to this. If any of the new guys want to, this can be you. Or maybe one of the big players. Leaving it up to you guys though))

Ashes to ashes
Unidentified world of former seeding
Code: Inject, Inquire, Coagulate

There was a small shimmer in the atmosphere above the planet as one of the distinctive black painted Collective prowlers decloaked and slowly descended down upon the planet. Although scans would show that the world had once been warm and in some places extremely hot by human standards, it had since been knocked out of it's normal orbit and that had caused severe climate change. Now the desert of the old moors hid away under the snow as the clouds gathered round and the world was plagued by blizzards. The grand barren grounds continued for miles in any direction, rolling hills covered in a sheet of white and blue. In several places in the distance one could see grand mountains rising up into the air, and great lakes had long since frozen to ice. The winds seemed to carry whispers on them from a far past time, down from the mountains and the valleys.

The Collective prowler glided gracefully through the clouds and down to the planet, ice crystals forming on it's surface from the intense cold. Spectre Officer Postuma turned her head towards her right hand, CSF-HSA-01.01002, also known as Manfred Little. He glanced back over to her and then turned his head back to the view screen
"It's good we aren't staying out here the surface, you'd be dead within seconds. You're envirosuit would help you for a few hours but this? This is negative 50c. No one would last long out here, no matter what they're wearing."
"The Aetherii preferred warm climates, I wonder what happened..." She began but was shortly cut off by Manfred
"Until the other day there was suspicion they were mostly just rumours; If this tale is true, what others are." He said with a shrug
"What are you suggesting Manfred?" Postuma asked grimly, shifting slightly towards him. She had known Manfred for many cycles and the two were close now, close enough that she called him by his name rather than his digits, and spoke openly with him; She'd saved him several times and he'd saved her. They'd also nearly killed each other before, but that's how life worked for them.
"Winter came." He turned his head slowly towards her and she giggled to herself slowly, placing her hand on his shoulder. Winter came; Old childrens tales they used to frighten the young infants as they went to bed. Such a silly little thing to cause so much terror in the eyes of other species, but to the Triarii cold was one of the worst things imaginable. So of course, winter and it's mythical, terrifying snow was often personified in the old stories, passed down over countless years, their origins lost to history.
"What's this then Manfred? You didn't used to be a superstitious man..." Postuma said, flinching slightly as she peered at the viewscreen with him, her eyes tracking the white snow fearfully. She'd almost died on an ice world once, she had barely been saved when she managed to transmit a signal to the ship just before it left. They'd thought her dead
"No, you're right; I used to be a man." Both of them smirked as he tapped several commands into the screen and the ship began to lower towards the planet, opening a communications channel

"We need coordinates for landing, transmit them immediately" The communication said as the ship glided over the white moors of the world...

Heiwa no tochi
Space Above Heiwa no tichi
Situation: Coagulate, Diagnose, Plan

Corvus nodded to his bridge officer who quickly danced her fingers over her terminal. Her eyes gave off a dull glow for a moment and she transmitted information around the bridge crew and the flagship began to turn. It was a Praetorian Class ship and the Roman Scans would show it to be composed out of some unknown alien alloy, thick and with a surface that shimmered gently as a few stray, small asteroids bumped off it's surface, splitting into pieces and scattering, signalling that it had it's own shields. It approached the dreadnought and became apparent that it would be very hard for the large flagship to dock with the dreadnought. Instead, a few dropships exited the hangers of the 'Tyrannis' and various other ships of the fleet and flew across space towards the dreadnought, entering in through the docking bay with their distinctive humming

The three dropships set down inside the docking bay, hovering slightly above the platform as the metal containers they carried in their clutches opened up, the access hatches slamming down to the floor. Off lept several Synth Soldiers, carrying their various weapons in their grasp and scanning the room with them. They took up an arrowhead formation and pushed forwards several meters before changing back into two seperate lines on either side of the dropship. From within each of the two flanking dropships stepped a shimmering orange figure with several plates of dull coloured metal covering them. Scans would reveal that these were beings of nearly pure energy, with a glowing solid crystal like shard embedded within their chests, suspended in the air. They examined the room with their strange, alien movements, as if they weren't supposed to be performed by this form at all. They walked with an odd gait and moved their arms like robots rather than like people.

From the center dropship stepped a small, 4'4 figure in a strange alien environment suit. His face long visor was completely blacked out and nothing could be made out of his flesh. Despite being small it was quite clear from the way that the much larger ape like synth soldiers treated him that he was a very important figure. It was also quite clearly that they daren't look him in the eye. He joined the two shimmering beings and the small force of Collective soldiers continued further into the hanger bay before halting before the access door.

The Synth Soldiers all took up positions surrounding their little master and his shimmering companions, scanning the bay attentively for even a single sign of hostile activity and quite clearly ready to leap into action at the first sign of treachery or enemy activity. The Fleet Masters eyes glew under his blacked out visor, transmitting information around his forces and back to 'Tyrannis', eager to stay in communication with his underlings back on the command bridge and ensure the fleet was properly organised in his absence.

The Golden System of New Rome
The Line
Situation: Assemble, Coagulate, Clamp

The Collective ships responded by silently gliding through space and assembled along the battle line, splitting themselves into small groups of around 5 and spreading themselves evenly along the battle line, waiting behind the Roman lines and with some quick thinking the Romans would realise that they were trying to mask their signatures and hide themselves from the Abh's sight, intending to try and take the Abh forces by surprise as a new foe out of no where should the battle ever begin.

IR1211 (5 years prior to current events)
1st Imperial Morte Expeditionary Fleet
Approaching the Blume System

The Morteans survived a sector-wide disaster, weathered multiple wars yet what brought down their centuries long isolation was ironically peace and prosperity. It was a simple matter of overpopulation, a crisis Morteans could have never imagined to happen. Yet here they are, with their farms and habitation facilities steadily reaching their limits. Thinking back the Morte Empire could've avoided this with birth control. Yet for death world inhabitants like the Morteans the idea of limiting procreation was nearly unthinkable. Indeed, even if they were no longer target of either neighboring Xenos clan's invasion anymore the threat could be renewed in any moment. Intentionally weakening themselves was simply not an option. So with the new generation the Morte Empire had no choice but to expand. Yet with so many enemies and even more mouths to feed, finding a suitable planet was no easy task. It took scientists and astronomers over 4 Mortean Cycles to discover a distant planet almost 20 lightyears away. They dubbed the system Blume, reflecting their hopes in its future growth. The planet in question was the fourth in the Blume system, temporarily named Blume Vier.



As such the 1st Expeditionary Fleet had taken form. Given what the Morteans had experienced in the past they knew that space isn't a terribly welcoming place. The importance of this mission was vital and the Morte Empire spared nothing to ensure the safety of its first colonists towards Blume Vier. The 1st Expeditionary Fleet had no less than 128 warships forming its backbone, mainly Mittelschnauzer-class Attack Frigates. These frigates were agile and well-armed, deserving their nickname as "pocket battleships". They were supported by 390 Schwerenjager-class Rapid Destroyers, fast and well-armed. These traveled in 3-ship clasp formation to unite their warp fields and keep up with the rest of the fleet. That's because every Warp Carrier was docked full of cargo and colony vessels, ferrying not just the fleet's supplies but also resources, tools and machines essential for colonizing Blume Vier. Dozens of colony ships were holding several million people who'd be part of the first wave of Morteans to set foot on their would be new planet. Meanwhile the fleet's duty to make sure their territory is secure.

The commander of this new fleet was the famous Kampführer Alexander von Sterbstahl. Veteran of no less than 3 wars, it was no exaggeration to say he had more experience than the rest of the fleet combined. Aged 90, he had already lived far longer than the average Mortean. This feat is partially thanks to the skill of Reichswehrmacht's medicine and cybernetics departments. The cumulating battle injuries forced him to gradually exchange his organic parts with machinery, latest checkup said Sterbstahl is nearly 70% cyborg. In anything but the name Sterbstahl was a living ghost, only exist to haunt his enemies for his remainder years. This man now commanded the 1st Imperial Morte Expeditionary Fleet, the key of the Reich's future. Rest assured, the irony was not lost on the elderly Kampführer.

"Reaching the system's perimeter, switching to low-warp navigation now." Noted Oberleutnant Herbert Braun, navigation officer of the 1st Imperial Morte Expeditionary Fleet's flagship the Tannhäuser. This vessel was fresh and the first in the line of the Morte's new Tannhäuser-class Battlecruisers. In spite of its size the ship was capable of matching or even surpassing the warp speed of the fastest Frigate and have power to defeat over ten of them in a single fight. It was a design and technological marvel, but as expected with comparably high price. After a few seconds the entire fleet switches down to low-warp, allowing ships to maneuver and engage in case of combat. According to estimations it'd take 41 minutes to reach their destination. Until then anything could happen.

@SgtEasy
"Sir, I'm picking up multiple hyper-pings, it's an unknown fleet!" Sensory chief Gerald Henlein said. It hasn't been even 5 minutes and they've already spotted a xenos fleet. Normally this would've called for immediate battlestations but the Kampführer reigned over his instincts (or the cogitator in his upper left brainstem did) and issued different orders. "Hail them! Our first priority is to establish a colony on Blume Vier. Let's not multiply our problems." The elderly war veteran made this surprisingly diplomatic decision. "Aye sir, hailing them in all known languages." Leonore Kranke the communications officer aboard the Tannhäuser said. The Morte Empire made contact with four xeno species prior, none of them were friendly. Yet overcoming these statistics Kamführer Sterbstahl attempted to negotiate with the fifth. Besides with a fleet of this size any attempt at ambush was already impossible. Talk was cheap and if it achieves something then all the better. Unfortunately the Morte Empire didn't know the Andromeda Galaxy's interstellar language, neither the Democracies's.
As such on the other end the Democracies fleet only heard the following:
"Grüße, ist dies der erste Expeditionsflotte der Morte Reich! Wir haben es mit Ruhe kommen und die vierte Planet auf diesem System zu erreichen."
(Greetings, this is the 1st Expeditionary Fleet of the Morte Empire! We're coming with peace and to claim the fourth planet on this system.)

Then he saw the ships that were speeding his way, definitely alien in design. Letting out a small groan, he nodded to the strangely calm bridge crew to get to work. Once they sent the First Contact package, he gave a hand motion and saw as the local Tar'Lik readied his mind, reaching out to the ones onboard.

"Hello there, I come in peace" the slight echo in his voice was due to the Tar'Lik "I hail from the Tay'Ran Jik Democracies and I was sent here to find new territory. I see that you have occupied this system so I shall do no harm. I wish for cooperation between our countries. I have sent you the first contact package to your ships hardware. If you would like, I will send the diplomats onboard and five security guards to board your ships and conduct negotiations between our two stellar nations."

Anton waited for a response.

"Sir, they're hailing us back already! Patching it through..." Said Leutenant Leonore before replaying the message:
"مرحبا هناك، وجئت في سلام. إنني أحيي من علبة ران جيك الديمقراطيات وتم إرسالي هنا للبحث عن أرض جديدة. أرى أنك قد احتلت هذا النظام بحيث سأفعل أي ضرر. وأتمنى للتعاون بين بلدينا. لقد أرسلت لكم حزمة الاتصال الأولى إلى الأجهزة السفن الخاصة بك. إذا كنت ترغب، سأرسل الدبلوماسيين على متن الطائرة وخمسة حراس أمن على متن السفن الخاصة بك وإجراء مفاوضات بين بلدينا ممتاز."

"Alright, either I'm going senile or this message makes no sense to me!" Kampführer Sterbstahl exclaimed. The xeno language was obviously foreign to them which also meant their own message had to be similarly incomprehensible. "Well, at least it isn't completely gibberish like the Luxans'. Leutenant Leonore, run a full translating program on the message! See if it can make a faint bit more sense to it." the fact it's at least spoken in a way Morteans can pronounce it is hopeful. With luck they may be even able to understand each other soon.

The Abh simply accepted the occupation, neither cheering the Romans on nor fighting them. They just hung their heads lower than they usually did and went along with their daily business. They weren't Abh before, so why should they care what the Romans wanted to call them? As far as they knew, all the occupation meant was a difference in the shape of landing freighters. Some of the Abh even commented on it under their breath, joking about how pathetic it was that the Romans had taken their world after failing at Kibō-Hosh.

As the anthem began to play, a few Abh started to giggle. The translation was second-rate at best, and the grammar. There were spaces where there should have been none, and multiple phrases were just stringed together in such a terrible mockery of grammar that many wondered how a singer could even get through them without breathing. It was less intimidating than funny, though the Abh tried their best not to let the Romans know that.

A young man, wearing a worn black and gold uniform of some kind, was walking down the street. His head wasn't hung low like the others, and he carried a bag of groceries that raised more than a few eyebrows. None of the ingredients went together in Abh cuisine, but for whatever reason, he seemed quite happy with his choice. He had a blade in a sheath hanging from his hips, apparently a typical katana. An odd weapon for an exile, especially with how old it seemed to be. Its design was clearly based off of that of a weapon from Abh myth, said to have been used by the God Ningen to fend off Draka. Such a blade hadn't been made in thousands of years, and it was rare for even a noble to have such an ancient weapon.

He bumped into a Roman soldier, apparently lost in thought on his way home. He pretended to lose his balance, letting himself fall and knock one of the soldier's legs out from under them, causing them to humiliatingly fall while he caught himself using the side of a building.

"Oh my! I'm so sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going!" He said, half in fake sincerity, and half mockingly. "My, you look so much like us! It's hard to believe that I could just tear off your arm right now, funny how much stronger we are, isn't it?"



Empress Laidach frowned at the fleet's report. The enemy was bolstering their lines with new ships, apparently alien in design. The Roman kept getting stronger and stronger every day, first their battle mechs, and now foreign allies. If they kept this up, then they could mount an assault on the homeworld soon. Judging by the reports from Kibō-hosh, a defeat at the border would spell destruction for the homeworld, as the Romans seemed to be intent on nothing less than genocide. She could only hope that R&D could make something to end the war before that could happen.

Why would they ever do that? Thought Laidach, staring at the images of the new alien ships. For some reason, she felt like these new aliens had betrayed the Abh, despite the two species having never met. She passed it off as simple nationalism, she had believed that it was everyone's duty to defend the Empire that she had begun to expect it of aliens as well. Nevertheless, she couldn't shake the thought that the aliens didn't know the full story.

She noticed the fleet moving to hide in the asteroid belt, their signatures disappearing behind asteroids on the sensor grid. It as a basic maneuver, based off of an assumption that a battle would take place. These new aliens really had no idea of how things worked at the line. There weren't any battles beyond the Abh sniping a few Roman ships that strayed too close to the site of fist contact, that's how it had always been, and even Laidach doubted it would change.

"Open a channel with the new fleet." She ordered, the communications officer onboard quickly carrying out the order.

"Greetings, unidentified vessels, and welcome to the Hinansho System. It seems as though you have chosen to assist our enemies, for reasons I cannot possibly comprehend. Perhaps you see something to gain, or perhaps you have been coerced by the Romans into believing that they are the victims here. Make no mistake, they started this war, and they did it in order to enslave us. If you wish to gain power, you shall find none here. You both lost the war the moment you declared it, now the only question is whether or not we will win."

Anton was perturbed. Surely the Tar'Lik way of communicating translated into all languages? Unknown or known? The Admiral restarted the message all over again, trying to make heads or tails of the strange tongue. To no avail, he frantically looked to the side, focusing his eyes on the Tar'Lik he told to messenger the ships. The green four legged mammal shrugged and plopped down on his chair, minding his own business.

The Krieg sighed, rubbing his temples in frustration. 'Why did it have to be me?' he asked to himself, letting out a frustrated huff of wind. He pressed the comms. button on the side of his command throne and brought up the 60 ship captains, generals and fighter captains under his command. He started.

"Comrades, we have a problem. We are light years away from our borders and have encountered unknown alien life forms. Sentient alien life forms. Being away from our home." Anton paused, letting the silence drag out and the emotion come in. "May be a struggle for some of us. But we have to stay strong. We are the first pioneers in the Democracies to begin first contact! We shall see if they are friendly or not. Prepare your men." The winked away.

Anton looked out and saw an anomaly in the corner of his eye. A Flingshot portal. A deep purple radiated from the portal, looking sick and demented. To his horror, he saw as purple boarding pods flew at a percentage of light speed and crashed into his ship, the Hero of the Poor and two ships in the Xenos ship.

"Fucking Adolf, for fucks sake. Here we go along for a fucking first contact and that asshole just comes and fucks it up. Feels like it's going to become a bloody trend with this motherfucker" he growled and drew his signature "Death Ray", fingering the trigger. He looked around the room, the bridge crew drawing BPW's and Little Bitches. He was ready for the horde to come. Death to Corruption. That line held more meaning than it seemed.

Anton heard the signature scream of Warlord Adolf's troops and the fire of SUPRIS rounds in the hallway. He positioned himself behind the command throne, charging his Death Ray up. The hardened door opened and revealed the attackers.

They were a sad bunch, mutated tentacles sticking out of decayed flesh, scratched faces beyond repair. Hunger was etched in their eyes, forever moaning and groaning, starving in their own little worlds.

The Admiral fired.



The Democracies ships were quick to react, sending their drone companions out, swiftly taking care of the two frigates that came from the portal, weighing them down with sustained fire. The Cruiser and Frigate packs formed a protective barrier around the capital ships as they dealt with straggling boarding pods. Inside the ships that were boarded though, it was literal hell on earth. The savages raped, murdered and looted, uncaring of the damage they did. The assholes lived for the moment, not realising the certain repercussions of pissing off the Democracies and an unknown alien race. The Two Drop Pods crashed into the alien ships, hundreds of combatants waiting for the doors to open.

IR1211 (5 years prior to current events)
1st Imperial Morte Expeditionary Fleet
31 minutes until reaching Blume Vier

.

"Leutnant Kranke, status report!" Kampführer Sterbstahl asked impatiently. It had been 94 seconds since his request and by computer terms that time equaled an eternity. "No result, Sir. Without a proper context or common basis of language we have no way of decoding the message." Leonore Kranke the Tannhäuser's communications officer said. "How about interstellar first contact as the context and using our own standard message for this occasion as the basis?" Said Sterbstahl in response. "Wouldn't that be assuming too much, Sir? Also to my knowledge the Morte Empire never made a standard first contact message. Not unless you count evasive maneuvers to hostile fire as that." Indeed, first contact with other races was nothing less than disaster. If you look at it from a certain angle the Reich's history was nothing but a series of diplomatic failures. Not like the Morteans had any choice in the matter. "...Right. Just use whatever I did 5 minutes ago and see if we can get something comprehensible, okay? These xenos don't shoot at us, that's already a plu-..." Kampführer Sterbstahl was interrupted by the automatic siren. "...What's going on!?" "Sir, it's a space-time distortion ahead our route!" "A hyperspace exit?" "No Sir, but definitely something similar!" Oberleutnant Henlein said, provoking a sigh from Leutnant Kranke with a silent remark. "So much for the peace..."

Anton looked out and saw an anomaly in the corner of his eye. A Flingshot portal. A deep purple radiated from the portal, looking sick and demented. To his horror, he saw as purple boarding pods flew at a percentage of light speed and crashed into his ship, the Hero of the Poor and two ships in the Xenos ship.

Accidents could happen. Maybe a distant alien fleet innocously choose that place as their jump exit, unaware of the incoming Mortean ships in their way. It could've been also a brazen and very straightforward greeting from an otherwise benevolent race. The Mortean soldiers thought none of these. Just freshly out of the 3rd Luxon War the crew knew all about the terrors of hyperspace ambushes and drilled relentlessly to counter these, their actions almost going by pure instinct. Before the portal could even stabilize the Mortean fleet opened fire. They began with counter-missiles: antimatter shaped charges, durachrome multi-kinetic impactors, beehive kinetic cloud interceptors, durachrome cloud beam disperser warheads and the like. Meanwhile the Destroyer squadrons finished turning, pointing their cannons towards the opening of the portal. The Schwertjager-class was developed precisely with such attacks in mind. By the time the enemy surfaced from the purple gates they were welcome with almost 500 tons worth of relativistic missile payload and over 20 exajoules of superluminal directed energy.

"Target is destroyed, Sir! Judging from the energy fluctuations in the jump portal prior the opposing fleet was numbered four medium vessels." Oberleutnant Braun made his routine report. "Any survivors?" Kampführer Sterbstahl asked, even if he already knew the answer. "None unless you count their constituent atoms, we disintegrated them completely Sir." Oberleutnant Braun gave the expected reply. Pitting 4 ships against over 500 in a close range shoot-out bears rapid and excessively destructive results. Whether the xenos were hostile or peaceful no longer mattered. They were gone as soon as they had appeared. "Any way to identify them?" "Well, without any wreckage it's going to be difficult, Sir. Maybe I can grab a few frames from our high-speed hypertelescope footage." Oberleutnant Braun said. This battle was closer to quick drill or joint target practice. It lasted only a few nanoseconds after the fleet fired their Grav Lances."Alright, let's do it. Better to determine if we're dealing with a new enemy or if our would-be-friends suddenly turned hostile." Kampführer Sterbstahl said, of course hoping for the former. Dealing with an unknown force may come later but if a nearby fleet with almost 60 warships were to turn against them it may even sabotage their colonization plan. For Morteans death is just matter of course. What they fear is failure to serve their empire. Making Blume Vier their fourth planet was vital for the Mortereich.

"That may not be necessary Sir. It appears they're under attack by the same force. They suffered minor damage and about to finish off on their side." Noted Oberleutant Braun after he checked the reports coming from other ships. "Great, that means we got ourselvses caught in somebody else's war. Once we establish proper communications I'll be sure to remind them. Speaking of which..." With that Kampführer Sterbstahl focused his glare on the comms officer. "I-I didn't even have time to input the new parameters Sir. On the other hand I detected a distinct telepathic wave along with the message." Leonore Kranke reported her findings which chilled the bridge's atmosphere immediately. Morteans still remembered the horrors of the two Ixian Wars. Ix were a mysterious race with potent telepathic powers. They used otherwise harmless communications to plant subliminal messages in people and dominate their minds. Ever since then the Morte Empire employed through defense mechanisms to filter out any subliminals, hypnotic messages and especially isolate psychic waves of telepathy. "All personnel aboard the bridge, level 3 quarantine! Grab the nearest brainwave scanner and perform the routine check! Nobody exits the bridge until we erased all suspicion!" Kampführer immediately issues his order. Their psychic filters are potent but not invincible. They need to make sure their crew hadn't been telepathically compromised.

.

"All clear! No devices record any change on the crew's psyche. That's our luck, Sir!" "Luck has nothing to do with it, Leutnant. We can learn. And the Ixians taught us quite a lesson." It took 13 minutes to scan every officer aboard the bridge. Until then the ship was commandeered from the auxiliary operations crew in the secondary bridge. The main staff took back control and resumed their course, estimated 18 minutes until they reach planet Blume Vier. "Sir, what about the other fleet? Using telepathy is a clear sign of aggression against us!" Said Victor Sturm, tactical officer. He was right, by the Moreans point of view anybody who tries to effect their minds should be punished the same if they were trying to directly harm them. Yet Kampführer Sterbstahl disagreed. "Let's avoid further aggravating the situation! Our mission is to colonize Blume Vier. Unless that fleet gives us a clear sign of attack we should remain on standby. Is that clear everyone!?" "Yes sir!" The crew's response was immediate.