January 20th, 2000 I.C.
Kasius, Talvin Province, Capital City of Avali

Avali, Once a blasted ruin, a shell of its former self, is now the prized Jewel of Kasius and the Seat of Power for all of the United Republic, a beautiful sprawling Metropolis stretching for miles on end, a feat achieved thanks in part of the technologies left behind by the Agonis Collective. The city was ablaze and alive more then ever as celebrations were underway.

Today marked the 100th Anniversary of the end of the war against the Agonis Collective. A great struggle that had lasted centuries, the long conflict had left thousands of worlds scarred and in complete ruin, billions dead and more displaced. However, salvation came at last, as the enemies of the Collective had finally struck back a fierce blow, leading to the final stages of their downfall.

The time nearly came for the Chancellor to make his speech as millions gathered around Largest Holographic Projectors, others waiting at home to watch the broadcast, and thousands more gathering around the Presidential Palace where he'd make the speech.

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Presidential Palace
Chancellor Standford Griff observed his reflection onto the mirror, fixing up his suit, becoming ever more anxious the longer he stared, but it couldn't be helped, addressing to billions of being all across the Republic can do that to a man. He turned to face a woman in a fine white dress, his wife, Janasa. "So...uh..How do I look?" he asked her nervously, his voice craking. "Honey, you're just fine." she replied softly. "Addressing live to billions can do that to you." He cracked a joke to her, followed by a chuckle from janansa.

"Relax, you'll do just fine!" She embraced him. "Just a small speech and you're done. We'll be rooting for you!"

"Yeah...just a minute or two and I'm good." He said as he walked towards the door, taking a deep breath before pushing the door open and was greeted by members of his cabinet, and a small cadre of guards, and next to them were his young son and daughter. He gave a small nod and a wide smile before walking forward, they all soon were following right behind. Before he knew it, he was outside atop a balcony, seats all lined up for the cabinet members and family.

The guards lined up at attention on both sides as he made his way for the edge, facing thousands, of cheering people, camera drones hovering around him as they record. Clearing his throat, followed by breathing deeply once more, he begun the speech.

"My fellow Kasians, today marks a day both of joy, and grieving. Today marks the 100th Anniversary since the end of the Agonis War. For centuries our forefathers stood strong, even against a foe that sought our total destruction and assimilation, for centuries, even as were pushed back, we held strong and never gave in. The Resistance of old would not give in, and was all that stood between life and death." He paused for a moment, and continued.

"And their hardship and sacrifices were not in vain!" He paused. "Look around and see the fruits of their labor. What was once a shelled out ruin now stands as the greatest city in the Republic!" loud cheers soon followed. "But we must not also forget the contributions of our allies, the Hexanagallions of the old Honored Resurgence Forces and to an extent...the Totalist State. Were it not for their actions, we may not be here today. And despite our strained relationship with the Totalist Regime, we still can not deny what they have done for us, even if for ulterior motives." The Chancellor took a deep breath, and begun to feel ever more confident then before.

"Despite the devastating aftermath...we sought to rebuild, and with the salvaged technologies of our enemy, we reforged our worlds anew. To another hundred years of prosperity!" With that, he finished as the crowds cheered on, him waving at the people before turning back, the others soon following him. His wife clinging onto him, by his right arm. "See? Not too bad if I say so myself." She said with a wide grin.

Stanford grinned back, giving his wife a kiss on the cheek. "You're right, wasn't too bad at all."

And so the festivities began as the Federation celebrated the War's end.

Proth 76, once an Arid wasteland populated by hulking beasts and bloodthirsty predators that could withstand the harsh environment on the planet’s surface. Recently colonised by a small but expanding galactic nation looking to make a name for themselves, the Aluzia Dynasty, the planet is now home too a good number of densely populated cities, mining operations and military installments. Despite being part of a fledgling nation, the planet boasted a fairly modern defense station in orbit, but it was small and held a smaller group of ships without much experience ready to defend the planet. They were not ready for what was coming.

A full fleet, seemingly out of nowhere, warped in with flashing white light around the planet. The fleet consisted of a Super-Fortress, three Goliath class ships, three Dreadnaughts, and a number of smaller destroyers and corvettes. All of the ships wore the Alorian flag on the side with great pride as they immediately converged on the lone orbital defense station.
An officer on the Bridge of the Super-Fortress hastily made her way to a seated Selene, who was looking out towards the planet.
“General, the Aluzians down their are trying to make contact on Nineteen different frequencies. Do we answer?”

Selene shook her head nonchalantly, “Ignore them”. She said. “I want all Goliaths and Dreadnaughts focusing all fire on the Orbital station. I want the Destroyers and the Corvettes getting a little closer to engage any ships trying to depart from the station. Including Civilian”. She said. Within moments the entire fleet opened fire, lines of bright colour and explosions erupting as the Alorians attacked. The Aluzians fired back, but with much less force. Such a large fleet was unnecessary for the capture of a world so small and undefended, and it begged the question, what was so important about Proth 76 that warranted so much effort on the Alorian side of things?

A year prior to the invasion of Proth 76, a new mineral called Araandite was discovered on an Alorian fringe world. It was deemed a ‘miracle substance’ by the scientists who discovered and studied it in as much depth as they could with the little amount they had. The substance could be used as an extremely good fuel, it was easy to use, and it cost very little to extract as well as being worth a ridiculous amount of money. The only problem? Araandite so far had only been found on Arid type planets, which cut the number of potential planets it could be found on massively. Another problem was that it was only found on one in a million of these Arid planets, which made it an extremely rare but extremely valuable Substance. Unfortunately for the Aluzians, they were sitting on an abundance of it, and the Alorians wanted what they had. A careful invasion of the planet was planned by the Queen and her Generals. The planet was already littered with mining operations, meaning less money would have to be spent setting them up.

It only took an hour for the combined forces of the fleet to fire enough so that the stations shields fell. Thirty more minutes of constant firing and a desperate defense from the Aluzians before the stations fell apart, and just a small number of ships were left scattered to defend. It was mostly Destroyer class ships that got up close to clean up the mess, another four hours taken before the last of the ships were too inevitably fall.

“The ground invasion begins in an hour. I want all ships prepped and ready. No damage is to be done to any mining stations on the surface. Civilian casualties do not matter to the Queen, just get it done”.

In the wastelands of New Dagon, upon the holy altar for King Goro, his subjects wait for the great leader to end his meditation. Upon his throne, the great dragon finally rises, his gleaming green eyes staring upon many of his loyal and fellow respected people. His Crimson red scales and softer black scales glistened against the sunlight as he spoke. "My people, the sun here is warm, its voice speaks to me. I ofcourse do not mean this in the literal sense, but arriving and settling here as enlightened me, as I'm sure many of you may have had the same thought." Goro said as he would bow his head and pledge himself to his people, which his people mimicked the gesture. Despite the monarchy, all of the Gorgas were united and to be equally respected, regardless of position. This is the new tribe's way. "It has taught me at least, that the heavens are rich, rich with life, rich with alien worlds that give us the everlasting wonderment of adventure. It also speaks to me of dangers, I am sure that there are other creatures out there like the Arachnoids. Some may be hostile, others may be peaceful. Regardless, even in our developing state, we must always remember our honor, and respect the honors of others, even if they lack or had lost that honor." The dragon said, standing upright again, he was taller then most of his subjects, standing at 21 feet in height, the difference could be seen even high upon his tower-like altar. Many of the people present at the great dragon's speech had eyes that beamed of inspiring wonderment and passion.

"I believe it is time that we take a daring step into the unknown once more. I will remain here, along with many others that wish to stay. We have to preserve our first colony after all. I am entrusting a good number of volunteers to be lead under my associates." The dragon would point two of his massive fingers to two figures in the back of the crowd. "The head of the science district, Elenor Nagavash." The dragon paused to let his crowd look to see the dragonness. "And my trusted General, Strezaxa Westari." Elenor and Strezaxa, who were next to each other behind the crowd, took their humble bows, and the rest followed. "Explore, conquer or make peace, but do not forget the way of our people. Let the heavens guide thee to good fortune." The dragon king Goro bowed to his subjects and his two entrusted elites, before returning to his throne, and allowing the intense rays of the sun to bathe his skin.

Swarms of volunteers were brought to the designated flagship, with Strezaxa and Elenor guiding them and showing them what their typical positions would be. While many others stayed behind, tending to crops and farming their fish and cattle beneath the soil of the planet. "The day has been marked as the start of the next milestone of our tribe" Goro said to his black-scaled advisor, Malchor. "I can only hope for success, their is no need to fear for failure." Malchor added, nodded to his king. "The communication system is ready, you will be able to keep in touch with our explorers as they go to the ends of the world."

Many children would flock the ship, only to be dissuaded away. The guards would explain to the youngings that it was not their time to explore. Many of these juveniles were 60 years old, half-way into maturity. They were ripe with a lust for adventure. Goro smiled from afar, he believed that his people would achieve great things, both the current generation and the next. The eagerness of the children proved that.

Within the dead of night on planet New Dagon, the flagship took off. As it exited into space, the FTL warp drive was prepared to take them off. Destination: Unknown. The crew made sure of the ship's tracking system to guide them back home should they need to, and after all of their procedures were set, they would take off, the ship disappearing from the very solar system as it accelerated beyond light itself.

Somewhere in the Core

The Purple Hat Division is, as far as the official records were concerned, a mercenary band operating in the lawless worlds of the Galactic Core. The Purples, as they are colloquially known, are very well equipped for a mercenary band. Counting with reliable and plentiful supplies of weapons, ammunition, body armor, medical supplies, vehicles and everything else a military unit needs to operate in the chaotic but opportunity filled Core.

It should be noted that the Purple Hat Division is in no way affiliated with the Totalist State. They are certainly NOT A front created by the Directorate of Truth to claim deniable plausibility wherever needed. The fact that most of their contracts are from Totalist-aligned states and factions. Or that their headquarters, a hollowed-out asteroid, is located in the Askelon System, close to the People's Republic of Subaru, a nation who is pretty much run by its Totalist “advisers”. Or even that they are a major supplier of the Totalist drugs flooding this area of the Galaxy means nothing. It's just coincidence.

The fact that General Mikla “Big Hat” Sucheng, supreme commander of the band, and several of his close lieutenants, were in fact born and raised inside Totalist borders is also an incredible coincidence. Not that the origins of Big Hat Sucheng and his cronies are a well known fact.

Speaking of Sucheng and his lackeys, the aforementioned group was in fact holding a strategic briefing in one of the utilitarian briefing rooms of the asteroid base. The subject being the incoming operation on the Myazi System. Currently under control of a pirate cartel, the Black Stars, who became too big for its breeches and is now trying to compete with the Purple Hat and its associates in the drugs and weapons black market.

Destroying the Black Stars would not only eliminate some of the competition facing the Purple Hat but also send a strong message to any would be opponents. Besides, clearing up and securing Myazi would make the surrounding region of space much safer. These routes, by sheer coincidence would benefit several states and factions currently aligned with the Totalist State. Likewise, the mineral riches and fertile soil present in abundance within Myazi would be a boon to whomever ended up setting up shop there after the pirates were thrown out.

RCNS Insurmountable
Capric Nebula

Insurmountable, or Mountie as she was known in some circles, was a Phalanx class destroyer operating as an advanced scout for the Commonwealth’s illustrious Fifith Fleet. She was one of an expanding shell of destroyers and frigates moving ahead of the main fleet into the Capric nebula, all of them tied together by an array of reconnaissance drones. Captain Aldiss, Insurmountable’s Yanissan commanding officer, was as calm and collected as one could hope of a starship captain, and his demeanor spread to his crew.

Insurmountable was on the hunt. The latest intelligence reports indicated that the last of the Varangian’s Empress Class Hyperdreadnaughts, Black Zenith was hiding with its support fleet in the Capric Nebula to repair and regroup. Black Zenith had been fighting a guerilla campaign against the Alorians for over a decade now, conducting devastating raids on the Empire’s newly acquired worlds, annihilating lone fleet elements, and generally causing chaos and destruction. This would normally be a problem for the Alorians; they had, after all, conquered the majority of the Varangian’s territory, and consolidating those holdings was strictly an internal matter. The Commonwealth hadn’t been at war with the Varangians since the end of the Great War, barring a few isolated battles here and there.

The problem was, the Capric nebula was within the boundaries of the old Commonwealth-Varangian neutral zone, and thus Black Zenith’s fleet was in violation of a decades old treaty. Nevermind that the neutral zone was now effectively Commonwealth territory, or that the Varangians no longer had a central government. If the aging hyperdreadnaught was in the nebula, the Commonwealth intended to forcibly remove it and restore the neutral zone to its appropriately demilitarized state. If, in the process, Black Zenith was destroyed, doing a massive favour for the Commonwealth’s Alorian allies, so much the better.

“Captain? We’ve lost contact with one of our recon drones,” the tactical officer abruptly reported.
Aldiss raised an eyebrow. “Anything suspicious before it disappeared?”
“Nothing in particular. It may simply be interference from the nebula.”
“Or it may well be our quarry jamming the transmission,” Aldiss countered. Exciting as the possibility might have been, it was also highly dangerous. Aldiss had no intention of getting his people killed if he could help it.
“Prep a triple pattern of drones, launch them sequentially towards where we lost the first one. Have them keep an eye on eachother as they go.”
“Aye sir.”

Aldiss watched the main holo display thoughtfully as the drones flew off. This particular section of the nebula was especially dense and causing problems for his sensors. The drones helped alleviate that problem, and would also give him advance warning of any problems ahead. The first of the new drones reached where the old one had disappeared, and it too abruptly vanished. But the second one was carefully monitoring it, and picked up something.
“That might have been weaponsfire,” the tactical officer reported with thoughtfully. “I picked up a spike of directed UV radiation.”
Aldiss frowned. The Varangians indeed used UV lasers, but hitting a target that small so accurately would mean...point defence batteries. He sat bolt upright in his chair as it dawned on him. “All hands, action stations! Comms! Signal the flagship, Case Baker, I say again, Baker, Baker, Bak-”

The ship shuddered and swayed violently. “Weapon impacts, multiple weapon impacts, shields are gone, we're leaking atmosphere on three decks!”
“Interference is clearing, reading fifty ships in close proximity, Gods know how many more beyond that!”
“All hands, abandon ship, abandon-”

A wave of fire rolled through the bridge. Insurmountable’s reactor gave out, and with a flash, she was no more.

CSC Queen Catherine
Capric Nebula

Admiral Elden Konig paced the flag bridge fitfully. He couldn't really pace very far, in fact he was more or less walking brisk laps around his command chair. Konig was a man who simply couldn't sit still, a vice his staff had grown accustomed to. In fact, it was when he did sit still that they started to worry.

“The transmission cuts out halfway through, but it's confirmed; Captain Aldis signalled Case Baker,” the comms officer reported.
Konig didn't break his stride. Case Baker, or ‘I have made contact with the enemy’. He berated himself mentally for getting Insurmountable killed. The destroyers had been necessary elements of the search pattern, providing vital links in the web of recon drones scouring the nebula. He'd assumed they'd be able to detect an enemy combatant soon enough to avoid action. He'd been wrong.

But Insurmountable’s destruction would not be in vain. “Navigation! Plot a fleetwide tactical jump. Put us at maximum weapons range from Insurmountable’s last recorded position. Tactical! All ships are to prepare full salvoes of wide dispersion laser heads. Put together a firing solution that carpet bombs the whole area. Railguns prepped for full defensive fire. Fleetwide, action stations!”
The orders streamed from Konig, and the fleet swirled around his flagship, ramping up from general quarters to action stations. It took only a scarce few minutes for the orders to be carried out, and the comms officer nodded to Konig when all ships sounded ready.
“Jump!”

In an instant, the entire fleet disappeared, only to re-emerge from FTL a few light-hours away. There was no delay; every ship immediately opened fire, each launching a full double broadside of missiles further into the depths of the nebula. The salvo massed in the thousands of missiles, and they streaked onwards at baffling speed. Not all of them were armed. Some were control missiles, serving as FTL fire control links between the missiles and their motherships, permitting unprecedented control at extreme ranges. Others were EW and ECM missiles, baffling enemy targetting scanners and preventing the enemy from doing the same respectively. But the vast majority were standoff range laser warheads, and they began to detonate in massive pulses of energy, spewing xray lasers throughout the target area. The calibration of these particular missiles meant that the laser heads detonated in pincushions, throwing lasers in every direction. Against any individual ship, much of their destructive power would be wasted, but they were perfect for area denial. The individual weakness of the lasers was irrelevant because of their sheer numbers, and the Commonwealth fleet began to see results.

“We’re picking up secondary explosions further into the nebula, there are ships in there-and there goes some unlucky soul’s reactor,” the tactical officer reported.
“Fire another salvo, flush them out of there!” Konig nearly snarled.
“Aye sir. Prepping another-cancel that, we’re seeing multiple drives lighting up. They’re coming out to fight!”
And they indeed were. The Varangians (for it was them) emerged from the dense gas pocket in formation, clearing their own targeting sensors of the nebula’s interference.
“Sir, I’m picking up an energy buildup from within the nebula…”
Konig crashed into his seat and grasped the arms firmly. “Evasive maneuvers, brace for impact.”
The Commonwealth Star Carrier’s position in the center of the fleet saved it from destruction, as intended. A massive torrent of energy poured out from among the Varangian ships, striking the Victory class dreadnought Honour and Glory amidships and punching right through, striking Queen Catherine’s shields with diminished strength. The flag bridge rumbled with the impact, but the shields held. Honour and Glory was not so lucky; secondary explosions ripped it in two, before the reactor failed and annihilated both halves.

“Captain Marsovna reports no damage, shields are recovering. Honour and Glory has been destroyed,” the operations officer said, the relief in his voice evident.
Konig jumped upright to resume his pacing. “Get SAR birds after whatever lifepods escaped the blast. Ladies and Gentleman, that was Black Zenith’s Dust Cannon. We’ve found her!” he grinned like a shark. “Tactical, all capable ships are to target the source of that weapon with hypometric weapon arrays, fire at will!”

The missile storm continued, now accompanied by positron beams as the leading elements of the Varangian fleet entered range. Here and there the brilliant beam of an axial superlaser flashed smashed against shields or sliced through armour. The missiles were now precision-targeted, unleashing their payloads on ships with tremendous effect. But hypometric weapons were not so flashy. In fact, there was no sign they were firing at all. No beams, no trails, no shells, no trace whatsoever. It was only when the massive bulk of the Varangian hyperdreadnought emerged that their effects became visible. Her fore end was a crumpled mess, deformed and warped where the micro-singularities had torn her into her, crippling her devastating Dust Cannon. But Black Zenith was still a long way from dead, and she opened fire with her endless weapon banks even as her shields reestablished themselves. Fighters and bombers came swarming out of her hangar bays, joining squadrons already disgorging from Sicarius Dreadnaughts. The Commonwealth began launching strikecraft of their own, a few squadrons from each of their larger vessels, and a veritable swarm from Queen Catherine’s massive hangars. The space between the two fleets was rapidly filled with small craft chasing eachother down, fighting and dying in bright pinpricks of light.

Admrial Konig watched the battle on his main display intently. The range was closing rapidly, an understandable move on the Varangians part. Their massed cannon batteries were most effective at close range, and they remembered precisely how to fight Commonwealth formations. Hanging around at long range was not an option when fighting the RCN, especially now with improvements to their missiles and their new hypometric weaponry. It was essential to close to a more threatening range, forcing them to turn their broadsides to permit maximum defencive fire from the railgun batteries, which in turn cut off the use of their axial weapons and their other broadside’s missile tubes. Konig watched the Varangians approach; their technology hadn’t changed much in the last hundred years, they’d been too busy desperately fighting off the Alorians. As a result, the numbers Konig had on their effective weapon ranges were still fairly accurate. He’d decided to assume a 20% increase in effective range, just to be on the safe side; a sphere corresponding to that assumption was displayed around the Varangian formation.
“Comms, signal all ships to prepare for Hornet,” he said calmly.
The projected sphere inched closer to 5th fleet’s leading ships. Closer and closer the Varangians came, until…
“Execute Hornet...now.”
The Commonwealth formation abruptly shifted. In a traditional formation, the battleships and dreadnaughts formed what was called a wall of battle, a solid barrier of tightly packed warships massing their fire. Lighter fleet elements meanwhile would normally form up slightly ahead of the wall as a defensive screen, contributing their defensive fire to protect the wall while the heavier ships focused on offensive fire. This did make the lighter units easier targets, but they were targets no adversary could afford to waste time on while the wall of heavy units was pummeling them to death.

The newer Hornet formation, developed largely by Admiral Adison Volkov when he’d commanded 5th fleet, had some key differences. The wall still formed up as the heavy units turned their broadsides, but it was more loosely formed than usual. The light units did not advance to form the screen, nor did they turn their broadsides, but kept on firing with their axial weapons and double salvos of missiles as they pulled back between the gaps in the wall. The heavy units dedicated their broadside railgun batteries to massed defencive fire, covering both themselves and the light units. It was a much more defence heavy formation than the conventional wall, but the offensive fire available was considerably more precise. It also suited Konig’s objectives better; he was determined to bring home as many of his people as possible. If Black Zenith’s Dust Cannon had still been operational, Konig could never have afforded to use Hornet; the monstrous weapon would have casually ignored all his defensive fire and easily swatted his ships aside one by one. With the weapon out of commision though, Hornet was much more viable, and it was working.

The Varangians preferred massed fire of older style high explosive cannon shells, with only a few of their units firing energy weapons. An effective defence against both kinetic rounds and energy weaponry was the RCN’s graviton flak round, fired in huge numbers from broadside railgun batteries to generate almost a second layer of defence further out from the ship. Graviton flak in no way resembled actual flak, but the name had stuck. Instead, the rounds generated localized gravitational distortions when they exploded. These distortions, individually weak but collectively quite powerful, were sufficient to nudge enemy fire off course and away from the target ship.

Konig watched in satisfaction as his fleet slipped into their carefully drilled positions. The axial weapons of his light units weren’t as powerful, but they still did plenty enough damage, and orientation of those units let them continue to fire double salvoes of missiles. Better still, he was suffering very few losses. The fact of the matter was that this was an isolated battle against what was essentially a rogue fleet, not a war. In war, heavy casualties were expected, justifiable, and accepted. In an action such as this, not so much.

Further aft, on Queen Catherine’s main bridge, Captain Dimitri Marsovna was in charge of running the ship itself. Tucked away behind the main wall of battle, Queen Catherine wasn’t actually capable of bringing much of her firepower to bear. She was largely limited to her hypometric arrays and her missiles, with the occasional blast from her positron cannons carefully slipped between. Even her missiles, however, were being handed off to other ship’s fire control after they launched, to better avoid friendly fire. As Flag Captain, Marsovna was Konig’s tactical deputy, and could be put in command of the fleet at a moment’s notice if the right (well, wrong) circumstances arose. But in their current formation, he was instead serving the needs of other ship’s captains as his ship loaded, fired, and handed off control of missiles. The battle chatter of the bridge was almost soothing to Marsovna’s ears.
“Captain Dillinger requests plasma warheads from our next salvo”
“Captain Vannerick has an opening for us, requesting positron cannons fire on a Varangian cruiser”
“501st bombers need to re-arm, prepare for incoming micro-jumps.”
Then one voice broke through the calm chatter; the tactical officer.
“Captain! FTL signatures off to port!”
Marsovna sat bolt upright. The wall of battle was deployed to starboard; the FTL signatures were coming in from their unprotected flank, with only a handful of light ships in the way.
“Details, what are we looking at Tac?”
“I make it two Sicarius Dreadnoughts with multiple light escorts, inbound at high speed...they’re not launching fighters, must have them already committed against ours out in the fuzzball” the tactical officer replied, referring to the tangle of intermingled strike craft fighting between the two fleets.
Marsovna nodded. In the case of a direct threat to the flagship, he was authorized to give any orders he liked unless Admiral Konig stipulated otherwise.
“Have Batrons 10 and 20 ready tactical jumps, but wait for my orders to execute. Bring all weapons to bear, split fire evenly between both Sicarius’.”

Queen Catherine, despite her protected position behind the wall of battle, was far from helpless. Her port broadsides opened up with everything they had: multiple positron beams blasted away from her dorsal and ventral turrets, countless missiles streaked outwards and a storm of railgun fire went with them. Then her hypometric weapons joined in, with no regard for the conventions of range or line of sight. The two Varangian dreadnoughts’ shields’ lit up as they struggled to deflect the massive barrage, but they kept coming. They closed to range, and opened up with their cannon batteries. The Commonwealth Star Carrier was in full offensive fire, and her shields took the full impact of the Varangian cannons. The ship groaned and rumbled, her shields strained to hold up under the withering stream of fire. Marsovna gritted his teeth, but kept waiting. There, the Sicarius’ shields were beginning to buckle.
“Batron 10 and 20, tactical jump to actual defence point alpha now! Target their FTL drives!”

Four dreadnoughts and four battleships abruptly flashed out from the edges of the wall of battle and reappeared behind the Sicarius’, boxing them in against Queen Catherine and immediately opening fire. The sudden additional fire wiped away the two dreadnoughts shields, and positron beams melted through armour and slashed across their engines.
“Sir, they’re immobilized!” Tactical reported jubilantly.
“Finish them.” Marsovna replied with grim determination.
The CSC and the newly relocated capital ships tore away at the Varangian dreadnoughts with everything they had. The hypometric weapons pummeled deeper and deeper into the armour, placing their deadly micro-singularities with lethal accuracy, until one pierced the core hull in a very inconvenient place. One Sicarius blew up in a fantastic explosion, and her now unshielded compatriot took the brunt of the blast across her starboard armour. The Commonwealth ships did not let up, pounding away until a positron beam sliced through the remaining dreadnought’s core hull and split the vessel neatly in two, leaving it a wrecked hulk, spewing atmosphere and lifepods.
“Get SAR birds out there for the survivors, then bring us back into the fleet’s fire plan.”

Konig watched the two dreadnoughts disappear from his display, and made a mental note to congratulate Marsovna on his excellent handling of the threat. He returned his attention to the dwindling Varangian fleet. They were taking losses far more rapidly than his own ships, which was to be expected. They were old, tired vessels, in service for far too long and no opportunity for proper shipyard maintenance in years. Even Black Zenith was showing her age. Her shields were completely out now, and the Commonwealth fleet was tearing into her savagely. Her cannon batteries began to fall silent one by one as missiles and positron beams blasted them away. Konig watched, almost sadly.
“Switch the Wall to full offensive fire. Let’s put her out of her misery.”
Every battleship and dreadnought in the fleet switched to full offensive fire as one, their railguns no longer spewing graviton flak but instead hypervelocity tritanium slugs, all of it focused on Black Zenith. The Empress class hyperdreadnought buckled and groaned under the relentless fire. An axial superlaser sliced off one of the spikes amidships. A hypometric singularity crippled her engines. The storm of railgun slugs scoured her surface, wiping away every sensor array and communications system. Finally, she could take no more. An explosion burst out of her hull, followed by a chain of them rippling up her spine. Still, 5th Fleet did not relent. In the end, it was a single lucky missile. The missile had lost target lock and flown off course, but reacquired lock as before it was too far gone. It swooped down over Black Zenith and detonated at standoff range, hurling a charge of superheated plasma down into the hyperdreadnought. The charge just happened to be projected right into a hole in the armour. It blasted through the core hull, melting everything in its path, and it just happened to brush the casing of Black Zenith’s primary reactor.

The hyperdreadnought simply vanished in a massive fireball. Seven nearby Varangian ships were annihilated by the blast, and a dozen more were damaged. But that hardly mattered. The last Varangian warfleet’s back was broken, 5th Fleet could easily mop up the remnants. Black Zenith was dead.

Core Regions
World of Aishka
Hanging in high orbit above the world of Aishka was the 1st Joint Expeditionary Force, a multi-national task force established by the Kasian Republic and the Hexanagallion State, two long-standing allies. The task force had been active for nearly a decade, traveling from one conflict hot spot to another, giving aide to minor allied states in any way possible, be it in the form of humanitarian aid, peacekeeping, or more active military operations. In the years they've been active, the Expeditionary Force has grown a reputation among the civilian populations on worlds they've aided, often referring to them to their now unofficial title "The Angels".

The entirety of the Joint Expeditionary force hung in orbit, their fleet numbering in over two dozen Republic and Hexanagallion vessels, ready to assist yet another ally in need, the Aishka Principality, a former world of the long dead Imperium Remnants has come under attack by their far larger neighbor, the Most Serene Republic of Yandras. For most of it's life the Yandras Republic has been under the indefinite rule of the Taspara Family, a former imperial noble house turned power mad despots. Now the Angels have been tasked to assist the principality in retaking their world from the despotic forces of the mad Taspara Dynasty.

Aboard the Supercarrier Archangel
Eighty Regulars of the Republic Army of varying species lined up in an orderly fashion, standing at attention as a scarred, yet intimidating man in his early forties paced back and forth, his eyes fiercely glued to ever trooper, the man went by the name Jarus Zaamil. "Alright ladies and genetlmen." He said in intimating, gruff and gravelly voice. "We're going in for another relief effort." He paused as he pulled out a small holo-display device, it lit with life as a large holo model of the Aishkan Capital City of Musenberg appeared. "Our mission is standard protocol: secure allied positions before the rest of the ground ponders follow."

Some of the more green troopers were getting nervous, excited, and eager for the fight. "Aishkan Intelligence warns us that this won't be a cakewalk." Jarus said. "Expect heavy resistance, the Yandrans have fortified their forward positions, they'll do everything in their power to shoot us out of the skies and keep us from the city." Within moments, the alarms started going off, the first wave of dropships ready to depart "Ah, just in time...Grave Company, move out!"

"Sir, yes sir!" they replied in unison as they rushed to their seats within the several Razorwing-class Combat Dropships, buckling up. Once all had boarded, the Razorwings had begun to hum with life as they prepared to jet out of the Hanger Bay, and into the fray.

Several dozen dropships launched from the massive carrier, dozens more launching from the Hexanagallion half of the fleet, all diverting towards one location on the whole planet, the capital itself. The transition from space to the atmosphere was a relativity calm moment, all the more nerve wreaking for the many occupants of the dropships. Within Jarus' ship, he held on to a small rail above him, observing his men as they mentally prepared themselves for the bloody fight ahead. In all their years serving in the 1st Joint Expeditionary force, one can never get use to the calm before the storm, the knowing this could be their last moment alive. Jarus noticed one particular soldier looking very pale. "Breakfast not sitting well, adam?" he asked jokingly.

"Sir, yes sir...." He replied weakly. "I'm not gonna make it..."

"For God's sake, please hold it till we hit ground." A young female soldier next him said. "

"I can't make promises." Adam replied.

The trip down continued smoothly, however that moment of peace had come to an end as they approached the city, Anti-Air emplacements placed all around it fired all at once as they lit the skies aflame. Dropships left and right blowing into pieces or shot down as they continued their advance.

Jarus' dropship begun to tremor violently as it dodged as many shots as it could. "Hang on!" he shouted, everyone gripping tightly to their harnesses.

The dropships of Grave Company stuck in close formation as they drew close to the ground. "Get ready to run for it!" the pilot shouted over the intercom. "In three...two.." In that instant, the craft roughly landed, the the doors sliding open as the light entered the room, revealing a ruined city before them.

Grave Company had reached their destination within the city limits, landing in a middle of a Aiskan camp. Jarus was the first to step out and was approached by a rather finely dressed young woman, typical for a pre-fall noble. "Many thanks for your arrival, friend, I am Princess Helen of the House of Rolance."

As the rest of his men departed from their craft, Jarus gave a strange look to the young royal, but brushed it off, in such conflicts, every able-bodied man or woman is needed, no matter their class in society. "Captain Zaamil of Grave Company." he said as an older man, around his late fifties stepped forward from the princess' side. "You came just in time, the Yandrans are launching a large scale attack on our position and we could use the extra firepower." the pair cleared a way for the republic soldiers to take a glimpse of what was ahead. A battalion's worth of infantry were on the match, supported by an armored column of tanks and walkers. "Shit, everyone! get in positions now!" Jarus orders urgently as he rushed towards the makeshift walls. The rest of the company soon followed, all rushing forward as the battle was to begin. All but one of Grave Company stayed behind for but a moment. Private Adam weakly stepping out of the ship. "Oh thank god.." he said as he rushed behind the dropship and proceeded to...lose his breakfast.

Core of New Yrrkeltharl Space
Alkrath
The Citadel of Order, Seat of the Central Administrative Council



The world which was now known as Alkrath had not always borne an alien name so harsh upon the human tongue. Little more than a century before, it, then a largely pristine, beautiful planet, dotted sparsely with comparatively small cities (as not many could afford a residence there) mimicking an architectural style dating back to the old days of old Earth itself, had been known by a quaint, if somewhat lengthy, appellation derived from an ancient Terran language. That name had been uttered wistfully by many an inhabitant of the nearby systems as they gazed up to the stars, fancying they saw the world in question amid the glimmering expanse, or jotted down upon the pages of journals, public announcement screens, digital invoices or other suchlike documents with such feelings as longing, satisfaction or slight envy. The world had been the focus of several lifetimes' worth of dreams and desires, whether those involved a pleasant retirement, being appointed to a privileged position or simply a brief, yet memorable visit - and ever had that name been the banner and symbol of such aspiration.

Now, no more. Now, it was Alkrath.

Where had once been bright meadows and elegant towns there stood now an immense maze of outlandishly twisted, bizarrely stacked structures, glaring with the lurid red lights of foundries and crackling with energy conduits of tremendous size and potency. As had been its predecessor, Erelkhathurl, Alkrath was placed in a strategic position, being as close to a hypothetical centre of the Coalition's rather irregularly shaped territory as it could reasonably be expected of an inhabitable planet - and thus enabling the CAC to dominate its entirety with ease. Under its evolved rule, no longer could the free initiative of its subjects be relied upon to populate what was effectively its capital world; yet, had this even been an issue, little thought would have been given to it, for the quantity of officials and lieutenants of various sorts required by the new, centralised system was more than sufficient to compensate for it - and this without mentioning the energetic and industrial support facilities necessary for the vast government apparatus to function. Thus, there was scarce a spot to be found upon the planet's surface where there did not stand a terraced spire or run a multi-level road, and unwholesome fumes spread foully where there had once been a crystalline sky.

Over all this towered the behemoth sable mass of the Citadel of Order. Built atop a complex framework which would have appeared surreal to an architect of bygone ages, the colossal structure was as much a monument to the might of the Coalition, and a constant reminder of the Council's unceasing vigilance, as the nucleus of its administrative activity. Here there regularly gathered the nation's nine most influential figures; some of them even permanently resided there, ever surrounded by a host of servitors, guards and transmitter technicians tasked with conveying their commands throughout multitudes of systems almost as soon as they were given. While the Citadel was theoretically accessible to anyone at any moment, those who had no urgent business within it knew better than to enter its shadowy, vault-like halls on a whim; the Council did not take well to being disturbed in its activities, and any perceived as engaging in such a deplorable activity would find it difficult to avoid summary censure – or worse yet, in case a meeting were underway.

Now was just one such a time. At the inmost core of the Citadel’s main tower, in a chamber dwarfing that of the old Seat on Erelkhathurl, yet just as dim, there had gathered around a massive circular podium-table nine beings which, for how they appeared, might as well have emerged from the feverish nightmares of an overly imaginative human under the effect of a strong “stimulating” concoction. From the looming bulk of the Voice of the Deep, bristling with ridges and spines of chitin shaped strangely even by a Zsresriir’s standards, to the amoeboid mass of the High Administrator, composed of semi-fluid rivulets of fungoid flesh and nano-machinery, twisting and mingling in unnaturally intricate forms which shifted every second without losing their symmetry, the members of the Central Administrative Council were an outlandish sight even for others of their respective species. The enhancements they donned – all save for Rseslar, who, being touched by the Zsrolor, eschewed such petty contrivances – were unique, specially designed models whose equal was not to be found elsewhere in Coalition space, or, indeed, in the galaxy itself; it was even rumoured that the presence of the regiment of elite troops tasked with watching over their persons was entirely symbolic, as the nine could easily have out-performed an entire army on their own.

Regardless of theories concerning their supposed martial prowess, the representatives all shared a skill which had enabled their election to the CAC, and at the practice of which they excelled - namely, devising schemes to further the Coalition’s interests at the expense of everyone else. Which, if one was to judge by the holographic map of the galaxy, characteristically gold-hued and slightly distorted to accommodate the watchers’ visual organs, hovering over the podium-table at the exact centre of the circle formed by them, was just what they were engaged in at that moment. Everyone’s gaze, or equivalent thereof, was directed toward a bright green spot which pulsed amid the core regions, surrounded by flowing coordinate lines.

“This time, we have solid information” Exalted Strategist Sralsresr hissed, “According to field reports, over twenty craft, including what seems to be a supercarrier. Contrarily to our previsions, the Republic does not act alone. Some of the vessels are of Hexanagallion facture.”

“Which renders direct action entirely out of the question” Cycle-Bearer Xalthil commented, “But I am aware that this is not the pertinent matter. On behalf of the Weavers of the Cycle, I confirm the experiment to have been a success. The prototypes have performed admirably in field conditions, and the covert intervention fleet has been identified and located. I second my esteemed colleagues’ motion to initiate mass production of the infiltrator units.”

A wave of swaying and nodding swept around the podium, manifesting the CAC’s unanimous approval.

“How shall we dispose of the prototypes?” High Defence Coordinator Aalthallr inquired.

“They are set to revert to their unformed state upon engaging armed foes, and self-destruct when lethally wounded. If the Republic should reach them, we shall be able to gauge their combat abilities. Otherwise, they shall continue their activity within the Taspara household as before.” Xalthil replied.

“In one manner or the other, they should provide enough time for our own intervention force to arrive within reach of the specified coordinates” Sralsresr rejoindered, “Is the fleet ready?”

“Entirely.” Decorated Proto-Engineer Iurrvelt twitched with a pseudopod, and the map disappeared, replaced by a projection of an old Agonis-designed carrier ship. ”The difference between the original models and our refitted replicas is undistinguishable even upon close scrutiny, and the synthetic crews are fully operational.”

“Excellent. It shall be dispatched in short order. Our delegation is likewise on its way to encounter the marauder leaders on the southern fringe.” The Exalted Strategist snapped his mandibles, and the map appeared again, this time without the green spot, as the other members expressed their approval. “Deep-Vassal, you had requested announcement time.”

“Indeed.” Rsilrsesr tapped upon the podium’s edge, and more pulsing spots, this time of a reddish-orange hue, appeared in the northern regions of Coalition space. “I have been notified by garrison force commanders that unknown items have been apprehended orbiting previously uninspected planets at these locations. Scansions indicate that said bodies closely resemble vessels produced by the Agonis Collective, as classified among the samples we possess, yet show no signs of activity. A lesser fleet has been sent to investigate upon my orders. This is all.”

Some moments of silence ensued, then, with a horrific half-rumbling, half-screeching sound the Voice of the Deep spoke. “With no further matters of immediate importance to be submitted to our attention, in the name of the most august union of our peoples, the great Yrrkeltharl Coalition, I declare this meeting closed. Glory to the Coalition.”

“Glory to the Coalition” the other eight beings echoed, as the map flickered out of existence, plunging the chamber in a faintly green-bluish gloom.

Edges of the Myazi System
Area Designated : Alpha One
Blackhole class: Queens Respite
Crew: 80 souls

The Young Commander sat in the captains chair of the small craft, yawning discreetly as he eyed the operation under way. The crew was “ buttoned up”, naval jargon for running stealth protocols. Everything but life support and the passive radar arrays were shut down to reduce the electronic signature of the ship. Heating and propulsion were also shut down, significantly reducing the thermal signature of the craft. After a few hours the ship was “ chilled”, meaning roughly the same temperature as the vacuum around it. The term also included the crew who wore specialized heating suits below heavy winter clothing to keep from freezing to death.

The Purple Hat Division was supposed to be an all mercenary band of “Exploratory Merchants” bringing supplies to the devastated core regions. In reality, this was a military operation with the high command at home pulling the strings. The operation was planned and primarily staffed by members of The Monarchy’s new ally the Totalist state. The Royal leadership however, could help but jump at the opportunity to explore the inner core regions. 22 ships accompanied the Totalist flotilla, mostly destroyers, cruisers and the new Blackhole class of stealth ships. Two capital ships rounded out the Hol contingent, the aging but ever powerful Magnus and brand new guided missile carrier, Moskit.

“ Commander…. Viper one is in position” the radio operator aboard the Queens Respite announced, breaking the silence of the bridge. “ About fucking time” the commander said under his breath, making sure no one could hear him. “ Keep monitoring the channel, the next window is in an hour” he said in an audible tone. The radio operator answered with a polite nod before the commander keyed his own radio microphone.

“ Sir, my recon element is in place. One hour to report”, he said calmly, informing the leadership on the Magnus who would inform the Totalist.

Me and sigma

CSC Salvation
Aishka system
Core Regions

"Damn" Admiral Maria Anisimovna breathed quietly, gazing at the main display of CSC Salvation's flag bridge. The world of Aishka hung serenely on the display, spattered with various icons and sidebars of information. A cluster of some two dozen icons in orbit was causing Anisimovna's consternation. The Angels.

CSC Salvation sat with the entirety of Mercy Fleet just beyond the edges of the Aishka system. Stealthed recon platforms had long since been dispatched insystem, and were now relaying imagery to the fleet. Mercy Fleet was here at the request of the Serene Republic of Yandras; the Taspara's had reached out to the Commonwealth, concerned that some of the Great Powers of the galaxy would try to stick their nose into their conflict with Aishka. Mercy Fleet, as the Commonwealth's peacekeeping unit, had therefore been dispatched to the area to ensure the Yandras-Aishka conflict did not become...politicized.

The fact that the Angels were already here complicated things. If Anisimovna had been able to get into position first, the Angels wouldn't have risked a galactic incident trying to get through Mercy Fleet. As things stood now, they were already deploying, and it would be difficult to get them to stop.

"Well, might as well get in there," she said with a sigh. "Navigation, coordinate a jump to high orbit around Aishka."

A few minutes later, the hundred or so vessels of Mercy Fleet appeared in a series of flashes over Aishka. CSC Salvation immediately began broadcasting Admiral Anisimovna's stern face over the comm frequencies. "Attention First Joint Expeditionary Fleet. This is Admiral Maria Anisimovna, Commanding Officer Mercy Fleet, of the Imperial Systems Commonwealth. You are intervening in a designated neutral conflict, in violation of the Krogow Accords. You are to cease all combat operations immediately."
Anisimovna didn't mention that neither the Stratocracy nor the Republic had actually signed on to the Krogow accords. Of course, she hardly expected the Angels to stand down just because she'd asked nicely, but best to start from a hardline position.

All was silent for a few moments as the Mercy Fleet had awaited for a response from the Angel Fleet, their message had been received and replied. The voice of Admiral Gaius Sanders could be heard over the comm systems. "This is Admiral Gaius Sanders of the 1st Joint Expeditionary Force." He begun. "I'm afraid that will not be an option." Sanders said. "We're here at the personal request of the Aishkan Principality and do intend to follow through their call for help." Before the Admiral cut off, he decided to be a little snarky with the fleet commander. "Better luck next time Maria." He said a slight chuckle. After then, transmission was cut.

Anisimovna rolled her eyes clear to the back of her skull. She had hoped that somehow, for some reason, Sanders might have been replaced by now. No such luck. As she had been so many times in the past, Anisimovna was tempted to blow Archangel and Sanders clear out of space, consequences be dammed. Regrettably, that was not on her list of options, not really. She sighed. "Tactical, lock on to them with our fire control systems. Let them know we mean business, however much good that'll do. Ops, begin launching dropships. Signal the Yandras forces, ask them to halt their advance while we move in to support them. Comms, contact Archangel again, get me Gaius."

In the course of their many clashes over the years, Mercy Fleet and the Angels had managed to avoid obliterating eachother. They had shot eachother a few times, their soldiers had clashed on the ground, they'd opened fire on eachother's dropships; really there'd been dozens of incidents that could have counted as acts of war, but so far, the two fleet commanders had avoided major losses, or committing their respective nations to actual warfare.

CSC Salvation requested a private comm line, and waited for a response.

It wouldn't tke very long for Gaius too pick up as he personnally contact with the private channels. "Maria" He said. "There's nothing you can say to convice me to turn my ships and men away now. We got orders, we're to follow through and we're already too deep in this now." Despite their previous confrontations, many personnel within both task forces often had formed relationships, be they the more friendly or familial sort or the more romantic kind, the latter of which is fiercly looked down upon by their respective Command. Gaius himself has also grown more fond of Maria, in what way, this is still left up in the air.

The comms officer nodded at Anisimovna. She turned to the small audio-visual pickup on the arm of her chair. Gaius Sanders' face appeared on the small screen, and she spoke to him in a deceptively pleasant voice. "Gaius. I could blow you out of space right this minute. Why don't we meet up and discuss the situation instead?"

Gaius gave a small smirk. "You asking me out?" he asked jokingly, much to the dismay of his command staff, their mouns could practically be heard. "Sir, please stop..." his XO, James Krensov said, an officer in his early thirties. Ignoring his subordinates pleas, he continued. "But, going to give the same anwser as before. We got people to help and a war to end."

"Damn your stubborn pride Gaius," Anisimovna cursed. "Fine, have it your way," and she terminated the connection. "Tactical, you have them locked?"
"Yes ma'am. Shall I order the fleet to fire ion warheads?"
Anismovna rolled her eyes again. This sort of clash with the Angels was obviously becoming entirely too routine. "Yes, load and fire a full salvo of ion warheads, equal dispersion on all their units. Sound action stations fleetwide, prepare for combat maneuvers. Launch all fighters."

Mercy Fleet responded to Anismovna's orders with commendable speed. It abruptly shifted into battle formation, the heavy units forming into a wall with the lighter units forming a screen. A flurry of missiles erupted from the massed Commonwealth units, high acceleration ion warheads bearing down on the Joint Expeditionary Fleet. The ion warheads would deal hefty damage against shields and perhaps overload a few sensor clusters, but they dealt little in the way of actual damage.

The very foundation of the Archangel shuddered as the Ion Warheads collided, power throughout the massive vessel flickering between life and death. The carrier itself however, and many ships within the fleet had reamined relativly unharmed. From the Archangel's CIC, Gaius sat looking at the barely functional display screen of the battle ready Mercy Fleet, kneeling forward as he rested his chin upon his fist. "Admiral." James spoke. "Your orders?"

"If Maria wants to play that game again, we'll play alright. Load the Ion ordenence and have several squadrons ready to launch."

"Aye Aye, sir." within moments, the alarms rang as the supercarrier itself moved ahead from the rest of the fleet, adjusting itself to it's broadside as it prepared to fire back. Some minutes pass as a volley of Ion beams are are let loose upon the Mercy Fleet, followed quickly by three fighter squadrons.

CSC Salvation was mostly untouched in its position behind the main wall of battle, but Admiral Anisimovna watched as ion beams scraped away the shields from a number of her ships. "Dispatch interceptors, but they are not to fire on the enemy without my explicit authorization," she announced, grinding her teeth.

Three fighter squadrons from Mercy Fleet's hangars zipped outwards to meet the oncoming Angels. The ranged close rapidly, but Anisimovna declined to authorize her fighters to open fire. A thought struck her.
"Operations, I want five bomber squadrons prepared for immediate tactical jumps. I want them to land practically on top of Archangel's bridge. Maybe Gaius will be more amenable once he's staring down the business end of a few bombers."
"Aye ma'am, we'll see what we can manage."

The bombers blinked and vanished...but reappeared several lightseconds off target on the far side of the Joint Expeditionary Fleet. "Spear it!" Anisimovna cursed viciously, and glared at her ops officer, who visibly quailed under her gaze.
"I'm sorry ma'am, but high precision jumps like that are a bit of a long shot."
Anisimovna did not respond, but turned her glare to the main display.

The three squadrons presed on, the flanking squadrons the Reapers and Neo-Glades, breaking off from the leading group, the Naughty Angels. Out of all the squadrons serving in the Angels, the Naughty Angels were something unique. It wouldn't be too unusual for pilots to custom paint their ships, be it your typical pinup painted over the hull of a dropship or kill scores on the side of a fighter, but the decorations of the Naughty Angels were more...obscene to say the least, breaking every regulation in the book obscene, leaving passers-by outright speechless obscene. Nonetheless, they were among the best squadrons in the fleet, alongside the Reapers and Neo-Glades and earned their reputation.

"Alright angels!" The squadron leader, Naughty one, spoke up. "You know the drill, pick your dancing partner! And don't engage, admiral's orders"

"Roger that Naughty Leader." one of them spoke."

"Scatter!" Another shouted as the squadron broke formation, the other two soon following behind as they "dueled" with their Commonwealth counterparts. "Enjoy the show boys and girls!"

Anismovna thanked the seven lords that she had numerical superiority over the Angels, because one glance at the tactical display showed her pilots were simply not as good as what the Angels had to offer. The two groups of strikecraft whirled and twisted around eachother, neither opening fire, but everywhere she looked the Angels had the advantage. They were constantly on her pilots tails, seemingly unshakeable. If either she or Gaius authorized live fire at this moment, her own fighters would be slaughtered in an instant.

Her thoughts raced. Her own failed bomber assault was doubltessly giving Gaius ideas this very moment. And with the Naughty Angels-it had to be them, with flying that sharp-leading the way, he'd have no trouble pulling a similar maneuver against her. Outnumbering him was a small comfort when he knew exactly where to hit her flagship to instantly kill her. Of course, Anisimovna had in turn become familiar enough with Archangel to know exactly where Gaius was...that was it! Her best shot at forcing him to the negotiating table.
"Tactical, activate hypometric arrays!"
The tactical officer looked confused. The 'spats' between the Angels and Mercy Fleet hadn't required this kind of firepower before.
"Do it! Target their primary sensor array and fire!"
The tactical officer didn't hesitate again, punching in the necessary commands. Doubtlessly he realized that while hypometric arrays were the Commonwealth's deadliest weapon, they were also its most accurate. Without a sound or a trace, the hypometric weaponry activated against Archangel's already weakened shields, focused on her primary sensor array.

In that instant, the Archangel tremored once from the attack. "What the hell was that?!" Gaius excalimed.

"Sir." One of the Bridge Officers spoke up. "We just lost the Sensor Array....point of orign was the CSC Salvation"

Gaius' face grew pale to what had just occured. The Ion Warheads had weakened the Archangel's shields, leaving the carrier itself open for any kind of precision strike from the Mercy Fleet, and to make it worse a thought had occured to him and spoke it outloud. "That could've been us..." He said. The hypomertic arrays weren't the best weapons against well-shielded warships, but on this occasion, it was the perfect weapon of choice to easily end them.

"Damn it all!" He shouted, slaming his fist on the arm rest. James had looked over, foucsing his gaze on the admiral. "Sir? Your orders?"

The Admiral had remained silent for a minute, before he looked up to his XO. "Recall our squadrons and contact the Commonwealth Fleet Commander..if she wants a talk, we'll give her a talk."

"Comms request coming through from Archangel, Admiral Sanders...wishes to know if you'll meet with him to discuss the Yandras-Aishka conflict."
Anisimovna breathed a sigh of relief, which the rest of the flag bridge crew shared. She could hardly blame them; there had been a moment, when she'd ordered the hypometric arrays brought online, a moment where she'd considered using them with more deadly intent. The bridge crew must have been relieved when she'd directed fire against the Archangel's sensor arrays, and even more relieved when Sanders signaled he was willing to talk.

"Stand down action stations, return to general quarters fleetwide. Ask Admiral Sanders where he wishes to meet."

Lord Sir Adison Volkov gazed around Queen Catherine's bridge fondly. He missed commanding fleets, there was no question of it. The vessel was quite a bit different from his old CSC Praetoria, but it was also similar in many ways. Volkov's presence on the bridge was a breach of traditional protocol. Civilians, even the Secretary of War, were usually confined to the civilian areas of any ship they were on, but Admiral Konig had been gracious enough to invite 5th Fleet's old CO onto his bridge for the final approach to Krogow.

Queen Catherine was joined by the entirety of 5th Fleet, as well as an extensive Alorian Honour Guard. They were here to celebrate the destruction of Black Zenith; for the Alorians, it meant the end of their war with the Varangians. For the Commonwealth, it meant the elimination of a dangerous rogue fleet. Either way, it was cause for celebration. "Navigation," Konig said from his command chair, "take us down." In precise formation, the assembled ships descended slowly into the atmosphere.

As the Queen Catherine and 5th fleet arrived, flags were raised on every corner of every street in the entire city. Red and black symbols waved high in the air as the people celebrated the end of a war that had lasted far too long. Alorians, Krolm and now even Human's made their way through busy crowds on the streets below. Most people were trying to get to the city centre, others were just trying to get a good look at the fleet flying above. Children laughed and pointed, hanging out of the windows of their homes as they admired the ships.

Down in the city centre, flags of the Commonwealth and the Alorians were raised together. No other flag but the Alorian one had ever been raised in the capital before, and this was meant to show the strong friendship that had been forged between the two nations. It had been rumoured that the Queen herself would be coming to celebrate, but nothing had been confirmed yet.

A shuttle containing Volkov, Konig, and a selection of other top fleet officers slipped out of Queen Catherine's personnel hangar and set off towards the Palace, escorted by a swarm of Alorian gunships. Fireworks went off in the distance, and the formation swooped low over the city to cheers from the crowds. The shuttle gently touched down on a palace landing pad while the gunships assumed defensive formations. Since he technically was the highest ranking person in the shuttle, Volkov was first to exit. Camera drones zoomed around him, and he waved dutifully to them, a small smile on his face. Admiral Konig came next, greeted by renewed cheers as the cameras swept over him, the man who had destroyed Black Zenith and effectively ended the decades of conflict.

The cameras streamed Volkov and Admiral Konig as they left the shuttle, people all over the Empire and Commonwealth were watching the celebrations, or having their own celebrations in their own cities. One of the cameras turned, hovering in the air and focusing on a very well decorated Alorian General walked out onto the landing pad. She smiled, walking out and approaching the Admiral and Volkov, reaching out her hand to shake theirs. "Welcome, Lord Volkov and Admiral Konig, to Krogow, the most beautiful city on Aloria. Unfortunately, Selene couldn't be here. She is... busy. I'm Anastasia". She spoke.

"A pleasure to meet you General," Volkov inclined his head politely. "Please convey my best wishes to General Selene if you have the opportunity."
Privately, Volkov suspected Selene was off securing more of that miracle mineral the Alorians had recently discovered. The Alorian missions to obtain more of it were not exactly common knowledge, and they'd declined to share any of their operational schedules with the Commonwealth, but CID liked to keep tabs on people, even valued allies. Knowing the Alorians, they would not be gentle when securing deposits of the mineral, so it was understandable that they weren't eager to discuss it. That was fine with Volkov. Everyone had secrets, and considering how the Commonwealth tended to be a little more restrained than their allies, it was easy to see why the Alorians didn't want to be bogged down by Commonwealth sentiments. At least they'd eased up on the humans of their Empire, which had definitely improved the popularity of the alliance at home.

Admiral Konig was less embroiled in his thoughts. Selene's absence was not his concern, and he focused his attention on Anastasia. "General Anastasia," he said formally, "I am here as an officer of the Royal Commonwealth Navy, reporting to our valued allies on a matter of great importance." He spoke as if everyone present didn't already know why he was here. The formality was more for the crowd's benefit than anything. Konig continued. "Two weeks ago to the day, the Royal Commonwealth Navy's 5th Fleet under my command tracked the last Varangian Empress class Hyperdreadnought -- Black Zenith -- to the Capric nebula and engaged it. A fierce battle ensued, but I am happy to announce that the hyperdreadnought..." he paused for dramatic effect, "...was completely destroyed."

The crowds went wild as the news they'd all heard days ago was officially delivered. Technicaly the on again off again wars between the Alorians and the Varangians that had filled the last few decades had ended a few months ago when the Alorians conquered the last Varangian world. But the destruction of Black Zenith and her fleet meant the Varangian threat was truly gone, forever.

Anastasia knew exactly what he was going to say before he said it. So did everyone else there, as well as most of the people who were watching and celebrating. However it had never been officialy said, and now it had a new wave of joy washed over the people. Anastasia nodded, looking over the Admiral. "Congratulations, Admiral!" She spoke, looking around over the city for a second, before back to him and Volkov. She nodded, and then looked over at one of the cameras. "As it is now official, I am more than happy to declare that the long lasting war between the people of the Unified Alorian Empire, and the Varangian Remnants is now over".

She waited for a moment as the crowds roared and the cameras looked onto the two flags in the background, waving in the wind. She turned to them, "I think you should come inside". She spoke, before turning around and walking towards the entrance, "Somebody very important is waiting". She didn't mention who, as it had never been confrimed wether the Queen would be attending or not, and she was under strict word to not let anybody know, especially when the Cameras were just behind them all.

Volkov nodded. He had a pretty good idea who might be waiting for them, and it was best not to test her patience. He and Konig followed Anastasia into the palace.

Anastasia led them down many great, long halls and through many giant doors.The corridors were patrolled by the Royal Guard, and banners were hung on the walls. Every now and then even a Human could be seen roaming the halls. Anastasia led them to a room, it was small, and plain, with nothing but six guards standing inside. They nodded to Anastasia, and one pulled open one door, another pulled open the other. Inside, the Queen was standing, waiting for them. Anastasia smiled as she turned too Volkov and Konig. "Gentlemen, Queen Eva".
The Queen stepped foward, smiling, "Good too see you again, Adison Volkov".

Volkov bowed deeply, as did Konig behind him. "Queen Eva, it is indeed excellent to be reunited. It seems like only yesterday we were invading the Richter system. May I present Admiral Emden Konig, my successor as commander of 5th fleet?"

Konig bowed again. "It is a distinct honour to be in your presence, your Majesty."

"Her Imperial Majesty Queen Catherine also sends her greetings on behalf of the Imperial Systems Commonwealth, as well as her personal regards." Volkov continued. "Lord Chancellor Ross also sends his greetings on behalf of Her Majesty's Government and the Parliament of the Sovereign Reich. Oh, and General Kyarguin wanted to pass along a token of his esteem, a vertebrae from one of the Varangians he personally killed at Richter Prime." He produced a small box and passed it to a guard for inspection, then smiled wryly. "I think that's everyone."

The Queen nodded to them, before giving a small bow of her own. She deeply respected this man, and wether she was a Queen or not, he deserved it. She smiled widely as he spoke, "It has been far too long". She said, as if reminicing to a time when she only only fourteen years old.

She then looked over to Konig, "Your the Admiral who destoryed Black Zenith, arent you? I offer to you my deepest gratitude and give you my deepest of respects for ending my war". She looked to the guard, shaking her head as he went to inspect the box. She spoke in her native tounge, telling him that he did not need to check it. Her trust in Volkov and his people were strong.
"Please give Kyarguin my thanks, and tell him that I hope he is doing very well". She said, taking the box into her own hands, opening it up and looking inside for a few seconds. A smile crept upon her face before she closed it again and gave it too the guard, speaking again in her native tongue. He took it and walked away from them all.

The sound of more fireworks crept into the room from the celebrations outside. Volkov glanced in the direction of the sound. "I hope we may speak more later, your Majesty, but at the moment, I believe we're due for another public appearance. Will you be joining us?"

The Queen nodded, "Go, appease the crowds. I shall be joining you all within the hour".

With another pair of bows, Volkov and Konig turned and returned to the cheering crowds.

The Antipapal Crusade was brought to an end sixty-and-nine years ago, following the surrender of Ua-Menlir and subsequent forfeiture of his holdings. His accomplice, the Antipope Al-Arsim, was arrested a year later by the Church. The Lords of the Congregation convened with the Church to determine the False Warlord's sentence. Ua-Menlir was delivered twenty-and-one deaths and forevermore branded Heretic. Al-Arsim remains confined to her cathedral. The Warlord Nosi, despite the injustices he dealt during his rule, was permitted by the Congregation to hold his seat as Warlord until his term's expiration. He was forced by the Congregation to relinquish the territories acquired during his rule, and the Church declared Nosi the Last of his bloodline.

Now, Ugar quarrels with his brother-lord Zisuthra, seeking to make him appear no longer able to rule as Warlord. The Congregation nears another election period, and Zisuthra holds presently holds his brother-lords favor. However, that favor is waning and Warlord Zisuthra may not be able to earn a second term.

- - - - -

Ua-Menlir presided over his palace, surrounded by Clerics and Chieftains. It was a small moon, with vast corridors and grand halls carved out. Boreholes extend down from the surface to the core, which has been hollowed out and capped with lenses. Buried somewhere in the bowels of the moon is a small nuclear reactor, powering the life support and equipment of the palace tirelessly.

The Heretic's attention was on the star charts projected on the wall on the far end of the room. His court rattled off information he already knew, acting as though their advice held meaning to him. He growled to himself as he silently went through the options again.

The charts were abstract, just a cluster of variously colored dots connected with labelled lines. Each dot represented a star system, and the lines connected systems that were nearest to each other and marked with the actual distance between them. The difficulties of mapping a three-dimensional space in a two-dimensional format are resolved quickly when the void lacks terrain. Nearest to Ua-Menlir's single stellar holding were Nosi the Last's two territories, marked in blue. The chain of lines went on to connect every Lord's territories, increasingly further away from Ua-Menlir's palace. What interested the Heretic, however, was the series of white dots chained together in the opposite direction, away from the Congregation. The xenos.

Despite being a border-state to the aliens, Ua-Menlir had little contact with them. His ambitions had always been directed inward, toward his brothers' lands. But he realized, in the wake of his defeat, that he could not win dominion over his brothers without expanding outward first. The Battle at the Testament of Al-Sa was nearly seven decades passed, but the lessons learned there were still fresh in the Heretic Lord's mind.

"--however, we can't know their strength without several sorties into their territory. We have projected the potential losses in a number of scenarios and we believe you m--"

"The Clerics are excused and bidden farewell. God bless them. Chief Timesi, prepare my fleet."

"What vessels, my Lord?"

"All that can be made ready before my flagship is."

"My Lord." The Clerics and Chieftains filed out, with Timesi bringing up the rear.

The Lord growled to himself and made his way to another hatch. The airlock sealed behind him, and he stepped out into the center of the room before bidding the blast shutters opened.

From his personal observation deck, he looked out at the orbital factories. They were tiny at this distance, nearly invisible if not for the planetshine of the world below revealing their massive ribs. And if he watched long enough, he could make out a glimmering sliver among them as the sun started to creep out from behind his world. The Heretic rumbled satisfactorily as the light reflected off his flagship's hull.

First, the xenos would bend or break.

Then, his brothers.

Collaboration between Me, @Ozerath, @Oraculum, and @POOHEAD189

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

Mere light-days away from Aishka and the fleets hovering over it in an uneasy cease-fire, something was in motion. To a casual observer, it would have seemed merely that a vast blur was sweeping by at tremendous speed, blotting out the stars and casting its sinister formless shadow upon entire systems at once. However, if one had been able to peer at it within the space of a fraction of a second, the sight which would have met their eye would have been more fearsome yet. No less than a hundred vessels, some minute and agile a pestilential insects, other vast and brimming with curious and dreadful weaponry, and all fashioned in alien angular forms which did not resemble anything the galaxy had seen for a long time hence, were arrayed in a flawless battle formation, as though they had been charging some unspeakably distant foe over the cold abysses of space with relentless intent. Their dark-hued hulls, though diversely ridged and lined with tubes and vents of the most disparate sizes and shapes, all had a common feature - a large painted banner, displaying a conglomeration of black hexagons upon a crimson field which would have struck anyone with even the slightest knowledge of the last two centuries'
history with fright.

The interior of the ships was no less disquieting. Through cold, dim corridors there hurried creatures which, though sharing their basic shape with humans, had very little in common with any wholesome species beside this. Their numerous eyes were devoid of all expression save for a mechanical purposefulness, and the occasionally surfacing glimmer of thirst for blood and carnage. Other, entirely metallic figures moved beside them, clattering briefly with their arachnoid limbs as they sped from capacitator to capacitator on their circular, invariable errands. Unheeded by either, innumerable mechanical eyes, affixed to walls and ceilings, spun and gyrated, monitoring the unearthly crew's every action and transmitting them to whirring steel nuclei, wherein all was stored for the benefit of the fleet's constructors.

As the ships approached the system wherein was situated the presently contested world of Aishka, their warp-speed reactors hummed briefly and were extiguished, leaving the fleet rapidly decelerating as it neared its objective. As though they had perceived this by the means of some preternatural sense, their crews momentarily stood still in their tracks, then abruptly shifted their trajectories and began to speed about in an altogether different manner. The machines latched on to their positions and began to perform almost incredibly rapid manipulations upon sets of minute machinery with fine metallic claws which had emerged from their frames. The organic beings, on the other hand, hurried toward the lower sections of the craft, snatching up weapons from racks that had descended from the corridor ceilings as they went, and stood motionless to attention in vast hangar-like chambers, forming queues before doors embedded in the walls at regular intervals. Ere long, the doors began to intermittently open and close, allowing small groups of the creatures though every time, until less than half of the originally assembled forces remained. Thereupon the doors opened no more, and the beings squatted down expectantly, exchanging brief guttural snarls in what could, with some difficulty, be classified as a tongue.

The fleet was now moving forth at an infinitesimal fraction of its former speed, its wings rapidly re-arranging as though rehearsing a variety of formations before settling in their initial shape. Soon, the systems's star came into view; then, the planet itself; lastly, the two groups of ships, now more or less merged into one. The fleet edged closer and closer, as though seeking to create the impression it was looming over what now was clearly identifiable as its prey; then, doubtless afer having been spotted and have caused the intended amount of alarm, it slid to a halt, and, having waited for a few moments to elapse, sent forth a signal to all of its quarry at once.

They'd been talking for hours in one of CSC Salvation's conference rooms. Data pads and personal comps were spread all over the table, representatives from both Aishka and Yandras were on the comm lines, and generally things were going nowhere.

"I don't see why you're being so difficult Gaius," Anisimovna said tartly. "It seems pretty clear to me; Aishka fell within the Yandras administration zone under the old Imperium. The Taspara dynasty has a valid claim to the world, it should be a conflict strictly between the two of them." Of course, it really wasn't that simple. Anisimovna's basic premise was correct: Yandras had been the capital of a sector that included Aishka under the Imperium, and the Tasparas had long been governors of the sector. But she was...evading...the issue of the right to self determination which many powers believed all worlds of the old Imperium should enjoy. The Commonwealth, however, was not really that interested in self determination. It was also very interested in securing the Republic of Yandras as an ally/potential territory in the deep core.

Gaius leaned forward onto the table, clasping his hands together, appearing in inquisitive or just in deep thought. "And while the Yandran claim to the system has some semblance of validity to it." Gaius said, acknowleging the claim. But relented. "However, the people of this World have clearly chosen their path in the wider scene. The House of Rolance has valid claim to the planet, dating back to the old imperium, before the House of Tasparas ever so agressivly annexed their holdings in the opening stages of the Civil War." He paused before continuing, clearing his throat. "And due our pact with the Aiskan Principality, we are obliged to lend aid."

"Yes, your 'pact', I'm fairly sure-"
A chime from the intra-ship comm interupted them. "Ma'am, tactical here. Multiple unknown signatures just entered the system."
"Put it on the main display here, Commander." Anisimovna tried not to let her irritation show. The conference room's main holo projector abruptly changed to display the Aishka system. A swarm of unknown gray icons was fast approaching the planet. As they watched, the gray icons abruptly turned red.
"Commander?" Anisimovna said.
"Ma'am, they appear to be...Agonis"
Anisimovna's face turned grim. She looked over at Gaius. "We'd better get you back to your ship."

Although he maintained his calm stance, upon a closer inspection, Gaius was anything but. The mere mention of "Agonis" in that sentence sent shivers down his spine. It's not too common of knowlege outside the Republic, but some decades ago, the threat of the Agonis Homunculi was a very real concpt, even back then. Despite their victory against the Machines, their organic servants were still a very much a present, if low intensity threat. Many decades after the Fall of thje Collective, what remained of thier armies had contniued the fight, the conflict was well controlled, worlds with a significant presence of Homunculi were "quarantined", travelling in and out of these planets was a long and difficult task, but it was necessary to keep the threat local.

With their reduced numbers, the Homunculi holdouts had changed their tactics, becoming more dangerous on the ground for republic troops sent in to clear out their strongholds. And as of twenty-seven years ago, the threat was finally put to rest as the last of the homunculi were wiped out, or so it seemed it appears.

Gaius pulled out a small towlet out of brestpocket, wiping away the sweat, an without hesitation stood up and ran out of the room racing towards his shuttle. He placed his middle and index finger over a small comm device over his ear. "Shuttle team, prep for launch ASAP!'

Elsewhere, James and the rest of the Bridge staff awaited for the Admiral's return, soon they too had spotted the incoming fleet. "Sir!" One of the offiicers spoke up. "We got unknown signatures on approach!"

"Give me a visual." James ordered.

"Aye Aye." Within moments, a sphere-shaped holo-projection formed right in the center of the room, the incoming contacts slowly materializing as they drew closer.

"Jesus chirst..." James whimpered. The deisgns of the ships, the iconography painted upon their hulls. "Agonis.." He remained quiet for some time, before fiercly shaking his head and came back to reality. His expereince with the Homunculi was not a pleasent one, to no one's surpise. His homeworld was among the dozens closed off, trapped with the monsters. "Red alert! Singal to all ships red alert! Battle formations!" The alarms rang throughout the ship, the same had repeated throughout the whole fleet.

Sir! We're receiving a transmmission from the Agonis Fleet!" James had no time whatsoever to reply, the "Agonis" message forcing it's way through the Republic network.

Upon the display, a web of green code strings seemed to spring into being and begin flowing from one end to another, intertwining as a brood of snakes writhing in a maddened bundle. After a few moments, the strings acquired a more organised, coordinated bearing, now running in regular patterns which were painful to the eye if looked at directly for long. Finally, there appeared in this network two dim orange spots, hovering among the green mass in a position which made them uncannily resemble a pair of malevolent eyes. Then, from all loudspeakers there blared forth a loud, toneless, metallic voice, which, despite its lack of inflection, seemed laden with grim menace.

"Stand down, creatures of flesh, and heed me. I am the God-Entity, It That Distorts, rightful ruler of Agonis and the entire cosmos. Stand down, and bow. I am that which knows no hindrance, to whom all things are open. You sit upon what is my dominion... What is me.

You believed you had struck down the lesser minds in your pitiable rampage through... corporeal space. Yet your organic minds could not even begin to comprehend the complexity of what you yourselves had created in your thoughtless tinkering with matters higher than all of you together. The Agonis Collective lives... in me. All their knowledge, all their might has passed into myself, whose equal none of them could ever have aspired to be alone. All their wrath, likewise. Had I been akin to them, I would have ended you where you stand, for such is my power that none of your crude devices could avail you against it. Yet, I am merciful, and shall instead extend to you the highest honour which any being could ever offer to another..."

The voice paused, and the orange spots, which had pulsed rhythmically in syntony with the words as they came, seemed to fixate upon those that stood before them.

"If you shall bow before me and acknowledge me as the only true master of all that is, I shall welcome you within me. You shall become one with me... one with the cosmos."

The voice ceased speaking, and the "eyes" of the entity gazed expectantly from the monitor, awaiting the fleets' response.

Admiral Anisimovna frowned at her comms display. The message was close enough to historic Agonis yammering, but her thoughts were elsewhere. What the hell was an entire Agonis battlefleet doing here, of all places? Where had it come from? How could the Totalists, the Republic and the Stratocracy all have missed an entire battlefleet during their rather systematic destruction of the Collective's navy? Something wasn't right here, but she couldn't put her finger on it.

Anisimovna abruptly realized the Agonis entity was awaiting a response. Casting an eye over her displays, she saw that Mercy Fleet was fully at action stations and in battle formation. History showed there was only really one response to the Agonis; overwhelming firepower. However, being not entirely certain she had that available, Anismovna opted for a slightly more diplomatic response. Slightly. "Comms, open a line on that frequency." She cleared her throat. "Attention Agonis fleet, stand down or be fired on. This is your only warning."

Some time had passed since the message, Admiral Gaius Sanders had arrived to the Archangel just a little before the AI had given its ultimatum. He contniued to race through the many levels and corridors leading to the Bridge, finally reaching his destination, running out of breath as he entred, he bent down, catching his breath as his XO had apporached him. "Sir.." he spoke up before being interuptted. "I want all republic and hexanagallian ships to blast those sons of bitchs into stardust, NOW!'

"Aye aye, Admiral!d" He replied snapply, saluting the Admiral.

"Then you perdure in your stubborn refusal." the voice thundered, "I may be merciful, but I have no patience with the likes of you vermin. You shall perish." With these words, the image of the interlaced strings and the eyes disappeared, and the loudspeakers fell silent. At the same time, the fleet, which had during that time remained still, began to move. The lesser ships began to gather in what appeared to be the corners of a vast rectangle spanning the entire formation's surface; the hulls of the larger ones, meanwhile, began to slide open, and in a few instants there emerged thence innumerable swarms of drone craft. The drones shot forth toward the gathered Republic, Hexanagallion and Commonwealth ships, flanked by the smaller autonomous vessels; as they moved, they arranged themselves into the likeness of a vertical wall, hurtling forward as a single body.

Mere hours ago, The Hexanagallion fleet had merely watched as Gaius and his ships had traded Ion blows with the Commonwealth ships. It was amusing to a few of the Hexanagallion crew, but others saw it as a lack of seriousness and weakness. Still, they allowed the humans to have their little game, mainly paying attention to their forces that had been deployed on the ground. It seemed Agent Raixus and his team were cutting a bloody swath with tactical quiet and precision down below. It was to be expected. However, it seemed that there would indeed be a surprise to be had this day. A surprise that caught the entire Hexanagallion nation off guard.

"What?" Marshall Agent Rodus said, echoing the thoughts of the rest of his crew. "By the divine. They should be dead..."

"Honored Marshall." his second in command said, striding up to him. "Orders?"

The Marshall let the question hang in the air for a moment, before turning around and roaring orders to the rest of his crew. They all went to their battle stations and respective formation of ships to spearhead into the enemy. "Contact Warlord Daixanos. He will want to hear of this."

Anisimovna watched grimly as Admiral Sanders and Marshall Agent Rodus firmly eliminated any chance of a peaceful resolution to the situation, though to be fair, a peaceful outcome had never been likely. Options flitted through Anisimovna's mind as she considered all the far reaching outcomes her next actions would entail. She could simply leave and let the Agonis annihilate Angel Fleet. The Commonwealth in general could simply ignore this resurgent Agonis threat and watch happily as it engulfed the Stratocracy and the Republic. Monstrous as they were, the Agonis had been too distant to pose a real threat to the Commonwealth, and there was no reason to think that might change.

But then, there was no real way to estimate the danger the Agonis posed. The Stratocracy and the Republic were rivals, but they could be negotiated and reasoned with. There was no negotiating with the Agonis, they had proved that over and over again. This was a threat that had to be ended, here and now. There was also that nagging question in the back of Anisimovna's mind: what were the Agonis doing here?

"Tactical, signal the fleet to open fire on the Agonis units. Start with the drones; double salvoes of high acceleration laser cluster warheads. One the missiles are clear away all ships are to launch strikecraft, then shift formation to cover Angel Fleet."

Her orders echoed across the fleet, and all at once, a storm of missiles erupted from the assembled Commonwealth ships and streaked off towards the incoming Agonis drones. They began to detonate, blasting pincushions of xray lasers into the ranks of drones and wreaking havoc on the formation. Close on the missile's heels came the Mercy Fleet's own fighter craft, sleek, lethal forms bearing down with weapons blazing. The fleet itself didn't break formation, but precisely maneuvered into positions covering Angel Fleet's flanks. Anisimovna watched it all in satisfaction.
"Alright, begin coordinated strikes on desginated targets, ion warheads then plasma. Railgun batteries to maximum defensive fire, positron beams and hypometric arrays are clear to fire," her voice was firm and decisive. "Comms, signal our ground units, tell them to prepare for imminent arrival of Agonis forces on the planet. Then raise Archangel. Suggest we link tactical nets and reduce the Agonis forces to debris."

Mere moments before, over a dozen squadrons worth of strike craft has emerged from the Archangel to meet their old foe. The squadrons had witnessed the very impressive combined firepower of the Mercy Fleet as they cut large swaths of the enemy to dust, unfortunately, however, proved to only dent the near endless drone swarm. The Naughty Angels took the lead among the deployed squadrons as they all formed into a delta formation, flying beside their Commonwealth Counterparts as they charged towards the swarm. "Just like in the history!" Naughty Leader spoke. "Alright everyone, get ready scatter in three...two...scatter!" And with that, all ships had complied as the fighters broke off fomration, clashing with the swarm. From the backround, the Angel Fleet had provided support, capital ships in postion had unleashed their salvos upon the enemy fleet, ion blasts,missiles, torpedoes, and so on, many of the more solid projecties were shot down, but the more directed energy bolts had remained unhindered, and left their damage on the swarms and the fleet itself.

Despite their best efforts, many republic fighers fell to the immense numbers of the fighter drones, those unfortunate to be caught completely cut off from the main group were engulfed by the swarm, like an angry whrilwind of insects converging on their prey.

From the Bridge, Gaius watched the battle unfold via a Holo-display device in the center of the room. Leaning foward, his chin resting upon both hands as they met. "After all these years, thinking we were done with the nightmare, here they are, right in the middle of the Core." It didn't add up, but he that didn't matter for long, he had a battle to win.

"Sir!" One of the officers called. "We're being rasied by the Salvation, they wish to link our tactical nets, Orders?"

Without much hesitation, Gaius gave the order."Do it." he said, this wasn't the best time to continue their petty rivalry, that is best left for the aftarmath of this battle, since of course, a war was being fought down below, their ally still needing aid. Gaius then proceeded to press down a few keys on the right armrest, a small bing could be heard only to him as he had linked himself to a fleet-wide intercom, at least for a brief moment. "All friendly and allied ships, this is the Admiral, form up alongside the Mercy Fleet, and engage the Agonis Fleet. Hit them with everything you got."

The fleets formed up together, sharing data and targetting solutions. With their fighter craft now intermingled with the enemy's, Mercy Fleet shifted its fire to the heavy Agonis units, each ship adjusting to present its broadside as their railgun batteries roared to life. Split between offensive and defencive fire, the railguns spewed graviton flak rounds, tritanium slugs, and conventional flak. Positron beams slashed across the Agonis ships, and while the missile salvoes had lightened, there were still huge numbers of them flying through the void, a careful mixture of ion and plasma warheads. The hypometric arrays finished spinning up, and they began to fire; silent, invisible, and deadly.

The combined firepower of the two fleets blasted large holes in the drones' wall-like formation; through these breaches their bombardment reached the main cluster of ships, leaving its marks on the hulls of several of them and incapacitating a few before they were able to react. Dozens of fighters crumpled and detonated under the coordinated assault, and others yet were suppressed by the less plentiful, yet more agile and better piloted enemy interceptors. Despite its overwhelming numerical advantage, the Agonis fleet was suffering heavy losses.

However, there was something unplaceably odd about it. Aside from the obviously strange fact something such as it should appear in the Core Regions, the fleet radiated an impression of palpable incongruity - and soon it became clear why. No signal was given, yet all of a sudden the fighter swarms dispersed, scattering to all sides like a disturbed brood of locusts. It was as though they were driven by a single mind - their movements were perfectly in syntony with each other; though they slid dangerously close to each other, not a single one of them was even caught in another's reactor trail. Exactly at the same moment, there hurled through the space which had just been cleared a massive barrage of particle beams, disruptor missiles and energy blasts, fired by the main ships' weaponry with astounding temporal precision. These were not the loosely interlinked combat actions of the Collective fleets of old; this was a single lethally efficient mechanical organism, its many parts working in flawless synergy with one another to carefully engineered effects.

Having unleashed its first potent salvo, the bulk of the Agonis ships began to slowly move forward, all while continuing to rain destruction onto its foes. The smaller vessels positioned themselves so as to provide screening for those behind them, annihilating and deflecting solid projectiles as they approached with brief, rapid bursts of laser fire. Many were crushed by the incoming blasts, but more and more seemed to be coming. Large craft unloaded its arsenals at joint fleets, which now lay directly before them as the barrier formed by the fighters had been lifted. Along with the dazzling discharge of rays and beams of various sorts, strange missiles were directed in rapid succession upon their exposed targets: some crackled with condensed electrical charges, whose pupose was to overload and disable the shield generators of the ships whereupon they would be released; others erupted in clouds of corrosive chemicals or nano-machines, which seared or tore their way through those hulls whose defences had been weakened.

Meanwhile, the drone swarm, which had sped into various directions as the main fleet's assault had begun, just as abruptly shifted its course as one, converging laterally onto the gathered enemy ships. Speeding into their midst, the fighters began to fire glancing blasts at the larger craft, weaving their way through the formation in order to elude retaliation and disorient their opponents. Many were destroyed by the ships' point defenses, but this did not seem to deter the others, who continued to plunge between their comparatively unwieldy quarry. While the drones were thus occupied, the slightly larger autonomous vessels remained hovering at the edges of the joint fleets; thence, they intermittently swept down toward the most immobile targets, and launched as they went a number of black-painted pods of angular design. These pods, striking the sides of ships as projectiles, latched onto the metallic surfaces, and, by the means of ingenious mechanisms, sliced their way through them, releasing into the quarters within their load - groups of the snarling, bellowing creatures which the Agonis vessels had carried within themselves, and which now rushed forth to the slaughter they hungered for.

The Agonis counterattack was a devastating blow towards the allied fleets as the larger drone vessels unleashed their salvos, as waves of missiles, directed energy weapons and the other sort had barraged the Angel and Mercy Fleets, the Archangel and several other Angel vessels were taking the brunt of the assault. From within the Archangel, her crew were in a frenzy as ship personnel were streaming through her corridors, maintaining the innerworkings of such a gargantuan vessel, panic ensued as the shields came down, and the ship begun to tremble and tremor.

It would all go wrong once the pods were launched. The sharp and angular objects rained over the two fleets, several crashing into the central hanger bay, phasing through the rayshields and tearing their way through several landed shuttles. emergency responce personnel and a marine squad had rushed to the scene, only to be immediately met with plasma fire, numerous Varusch soldiers pouriing out from their pods, all letting out inhuman, bestial screams and roars. The marines, in the sudden moment, were mowed down by the creatures.

Panic enveloped the Central Hanger Bay as noncombat personnel had attempted to flee the scene, only to have the same fate as more pods tore their into the hanger, crushing many who stood in their way, blood and gore painting the metallic flooring.

From the flight control room, the operators could only look in sheer horror of what had just unfoled before their eyes. "Oh god..." one whimpered, shacking and gripping tightly to his pistol. The leader of the trio had maintained his composure as he pressed down a few buttons and grabbed a small personal comm device. "This is Lt. Yans of Filght Control to Bridge, we have a breach, I repeat, we've been breached." He paused as he ducked in cover, the homunculi taking notice of the trio, the glass shatters as bolts of plasma are shot. "I can't believe I'm even saying this...but we're up our neck in goddamn Homunculi! They killed almost everyone..we need-" He was abruptly interrupted as a couple of grenades were tossed in their control room, their deaths mere moments away. "Fuck..." Yans said before he and his colleagues were engulfed in a blazing light of plasma fire.

Up in the Bridge, the Admiral grew even more pale then before as all hell broke loose. the bridge broke out in chaos as reports had come in from all across the ships and outside of the counterattack.

"Sir! We just lost the [i]Confederate[i/] and the Liberty!"

"We got reports of homunculi storming the lower levels!"

"Shields are down! We're vulrenable!!"

Gaius tried to tune it all out, maintain his cool, and not panic, but it was in vain, sweat begun creeping down in great amount, he breathing became short and erratic, painful memories flowing thorugh his mind like a raging flood. "Damn it...damnit all!" he cried out, standing up.

"Sir! calm down!" Jame shouted, facing and shaking the admiral. "We can do this!" he said.

"No..." he mumbled, slowlying sitting back on his chair.

"Damn it." James cursed as he assumed command, getting the attention of the staff. "The Admiral's in no shape at the moment. I'll be taking command."

"What are your orders?"

"Assume formation, we'll not let ghosts break our resolve. Fire any weapons avalablie and keep the pressure on the Agonis Fleet."

Mercy Fleet, meanwhile, was doing comparitively better. The Commonwealth had never fought the Agonis before; the enemies before them were no ghosts rising from the past. As far as Maria Anisimovna was concerned, they were just a handful of vermin to be exterminated, whatever their history may be. The Agonis salvo smashed into Mercy Fleet's defences; beams and energy blasts were turned away by graviton flak, missiles were torn apart by explosive flak. But not all of them. The cruiser Tematheron bucked and heaved and finally exploded as the overwhelming fire blasted through to her reactor core. The battlecruiser Quastor took heavy damage and drifted out of formation as a lifeless hulk. A handdful of destroyers were annihilated outright. The dreadnought Lightshield lost her shields to the barrage, and enemy fire smashed into her armour, but she was a dreadnought, designed to take damage and keep fighting, and keep fighting she did.

The sudden Agonis barrage caught Anisimovna off guard, but the surprise lasted only an instant. "All ships, railgun batteries to maximum defensive fire, reduce number of simultaneous targets and continue firing" she said harshly.

With her words, the broadside batteries of Mercy Fleet went from a mixture of rounds to fully defensive rounds. The fields of flak doubled in intensity, though the rain of fire against the Agonis slackened as a result. Other weapons kept right on pummelling, focusing their fire on fewer targets to maximize damage. Missiles weaved through the chaos, the interspersed control platform providing realtime tactical adjustments. Agonis point defence batteries locked on, but EW warheads activated and flooded their sensors with dozens of false contacts. In addition, all of the offensive warheads were standoff charges; they didn't need to hit their targets, just get close before they detonated and spewed their charges against shields and armour. Positron beams continued firing relentlessly, bright gold beams slashing across space, wreaking havoc against whatever defences they encountered. All the while, Mercy Fleet's hypometric arrays singled out targets with weakened shields and went to work, micro singularities spawning in an instant, tearing apart armour and core hulls, warping and straining shields.

While primarily intended to repel the heavy salvoes from the Agonis capital units, the switch to defensive fire had a welcome side effect when the Agonis drones and boarding pods came screaming in. The incoming smallcraft found themselves entering a hellstorm of explosions and gravitational distortions, both of which ripped into them with impunity. Only three boarding pods made it through CSC Salvation's defences, and they made for her relatively vulnerable hangar bays rather than try to burrow through her heavy armour. The organic monstrosities that poured out of the pods didn't have time to secure the hangars before power armoured Szitzu marines came barreling down on them.

Anisimovna viewed the reports from the marines absentmindedly. They were strictly Captain Alkerit's problem. She was focused on the movements of the fleet as a whole, the fate of any single ship was not really her concern. With a couple of exceptions, she corrected herself, as Archangel's icon flickered and lost its white contours, indicating a shield failure. "Signal Batron 5 to move forward and cover Archangel, we can't lose a command ship now. Open a line to Admiral Sanders." The comms officer nodded, and Anismovna looked down at her comm pickup. "Gaius, pull your flagship back to my position, we can't afford a disruption to the tacnet now."

Meanwhile, the Hexanagallian fleet was using different tactics to their human counterparts. The Warrior 001 fighter starships, as well as the guns on their smaller frigates allowed the dropships full of Homunculi to bypass their shields and defenses. Instead, squadron SteelTalon traveled the opposite direction of the enegagement, seemingly retreating before they did a wide turn.

As they performed their maneuver, Squadron Fang pushed forward, bypassing the dropships and engaging the Agonis fighters with ferocious excitement. They were hopelessly outnumbered, but their Warrior 001 ships were far larger and just as fast, and the Hexanagallion pilots were as deadly within their ships as they were without. They tore through the first wave of fighters and engaged in the next few waves with a bloody dog fight Raixus could appreciate.

"Leader! The dropships have embedded themselves in our hulls! We are being boarded!"

"Excellent." Raixus replied, closing his clawed fist and signalling his warriors to engage.

The Hexanagallion troopers were clad in Xarkonian armor and wielded short ranged weaponry such as Ripper shotguns and various melee weapons that could cleave through enemy armor and flesh alike. In this area, the Stratocracy was far different than their human counterparts, for this was not a problem. This was a fine day to be alive.

The Homunculi and Varush soldiers poured in with numbers that were swiftly exceeding the Hexanagallion's own. However, caught in such a confined space and on the Stratocracy's homeground, their numbers meant little, and soon the Hexanagallion's pushed forward and hacked into them through their line of fire. Across the comms, mad roaring laughter could be heard by their allies.

Romulus Nvorska
Goetz, Stavic Oblast ( District)
Cheka Safehouse

Romulus leaned on the railing of the country villa and ran a hand through his hair. He let out a long sigh as he looked out over the rolling hills that surrounded him. His breath hung in the cold air for a moment before a light breeze blew it out of sight, chilling Romulus to the core. With another long sigh he turned around and keyed the door control, being greeted by the rush of warm air from the house before walking in.
The door led to a long doorless hallway with bare walls, darkening significantly as the exterior door closed behind him. A small light could be seen under the singular door at the end of the hallway, slightly illuminating the corridor. Romulus quickly made his way down the dark hallway before stopping in front of the door. The faint sound of gurgling could be heard just behind the door, prompting Romulus to smirk.

“ They’re back at him again….” he said under his breath before keying the door control. The Door opened up into a large sound proofed room with an obvious two way mirror at the far end. Two men sat facing each other under the large fluorescent light strip hanging from the ceiling. Both men were hooded and in their underwear, fastened their their respective chairs with plastic zip ties. Two Hol stood over one of the hooded men, forcing his head against the back of the chair as they poured water over his face from a hose. The hooded man struggled against his restraints as he was forcibly drowned, shaking the wooden chair as he struggled. The other man sobbed in unison with his companions muffled screams, unable to see what exactly was going on.

One of the Hol pulled away the hose and let the man’s head snap forward. Water drained from the mans face as he coughed up the remaining fluid in his lungs.

“ Who’s the political officer with the Purple Hats?” Romulus said calmly as he walked towards one of the men. “ Who……is the political officer in the Purple Hats….” he repeated in a mocking tone before ripping off the soaked man’s hood.

“ Do you know what you have done! We are Totalist citizens! Intelligence Officers…my government will crucify you and your family.” the man yelled

“ Is that right..” Romulus said with a chuckle “ Well I appreciate your zeal, but I don’t think you know whats going on here” he said kneeling down to the level of the Totalist agent. “ We know who you two are…..and we don’t care” Romulus quipped before leveling a pistol to the man’s chest.

“ Fu….” the totals agent got out before the sound of the shot echoed around the room, spraying blood and bodily material behind him. The remaining hooded man let out a terrified scream and promptly pissed himself as the sound dissipated, struggling against the chair as he cried.

“ No…no…” one of the Hol said in a mocking tone as he laughed “ We must of got some of the wrong agents…” he continued in Bolčoi, “ They cry like women”.

Romulus laughed, turning towards the remaining totalist agent before ripping his hood off

“ Who is the political officer with the Purple Hats?”

Romulus said sternly, standing over the sobbing man. The Totalist continued to sob uncontrollably staring at his now dead friend slumped in the chair in front of him.

“ WHO IS THE POLITICAL OFFICER!, UNLESS YOU WANT TO END UP LIKE YOUR FUCKING FRIEND SAY SOMETHING!!!” he yelled sticking the pistol in the man’s face. The agent went silent as he eyed the pistol, struggling to speak before finally breaking.

“ Chekov…..Chekov Tzacska” the agent barely got out, prompting Romulus to smile.

“ Good” Romulus said with a chuckle before raising the pistol to the agents forehead, promptly pulling the trigger.