Chapter 1: The calm before the storm

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A heavy railgun fires at the empty space ahead. No specific target, but it ensures that it works. The hull of the ship vibrates at a frequency that can't be picked up by ordinary humans, but the devices struggle to find their equilibrium after the massive release of energy from the charged rails. A couple dozen of men are minding their own businesses in front of their assigned workstations, only illuminated by a large holographic display standing in the middle of the room, showing the surrounding area. Large screens on the walls show the outisde, a made up view from a command bridge that could be on the outer hull of the ship, almost acting as if they were glass windows, and not mere imitations of what you could see. The resonance from the railgun finally stops and the sighs of many operators can be heard as their instruments return to their normal state. The bridge is dimly lit in a calming blue light, but the operators don't pay attention to it as their screens are enough to see in the room. The humming of the air circulators is near silent, and it dominates the large room as a constant brown noise to help people concentrate. Someone coughs, and a few operators that are unoccupied try to locate the source of the sound, as if trying to find something more amusing than looking at data about irrelevant things. A single high pitched beep fills the room for a second, and the background noise shifts from a barely audible humming to a stronger, but still almost subconcius vibration. The sound of the CIWS firing wolfram bullets coated in aluminum at enemy missiles at insane speeds, twenty-thousand times a minute. The calm image of the stars on the screen is abrupted by large beams of tracer shells flying towards the computer's targets, and the switching to the next threat. A dozen times a second.

The noise of an opening door and the hiss that accompanies it distrupts this relative silence, and mutes the sound of CIWS fire for a second. A man in the admiralty's uniform steps through the door which silently shuts behind him. He is wearing large epaulettes and a white uniform adored with a many medals that show mighty deeds that the person has done in the past. A few turn their faces to take a glance at whats happening, and then they anxiously start murmuring to their neighbours. The guard standing next to the door breaks the silence for the second time since the man entered the room, and shouts at the top of his lungs:
-Captain on the bridge!
In haste, the operators in the bridge all jump up, some still focusing on their terminals, whilst others already saluting as they get out of their chairs. The messy rumble of bodies moving around and chairs sliding and turning only lasts for about two seconds, and then it dies out. The air feels heavy in the silence, and the gentle vibrations of the guns firing on the outside are cancelled out by the beating hearts of the men. Some terminals flicker with light, and nervous operators try to quickly peek over at their screens to make sure everything is okay. In truth, these computers could operate without any operators, perhaps even better than now, but this doesn't stop these people from being assigned the magnificent job of looking over gigabytes of data evey few minutes, just to make sure that things are okay. These men now feel pwoerful because of this data, as if they were really important, and as such look proudly at their superior. The captain looks around in the circular room, examining each diffrent rows of terminals, that lay below his main command bridge in wide trenches. He looks into they eyes of every men and women and then quickly shifts over to the next. He smiles fondly, and speaks up in a soft tone, loud enough for anyone to hear, but not too loud to disturb the peace of the room:
-At ease. Return to your stations.

The operators sit back on their chairs, examining the data accumulated since they stood up from their stations. Some begin to wildly type something on their screens, pressing virtual buttons, and adjusting some things that are probably important for some reason. Others lean back against their chairs, looking at data, text and images scrolling down the screen, knowing that nothing will change on them even if the ship explodes into shiny dust particles. The only thing keeping them from standing up and making a coffe, or snoozing off is the fact that the captain has entered the same room they are in. Out of respect, they look at their screens with hazy eyes, and regularly send encrypted data packs to the main computer. The captain seemingly doesn't care what they do, and he slowly walks towards the edge of his elevated captain's terminal that is hanging around 7 meters above the rest of the room, just about as high as the holo screen showing the tactical map. Two men in officer unifroms are waiting by the terminal, their arms crossed behind their backs, their gazes focused on the captain alone. One of them seems to be very tense: he probably has something to say. But they both keep quiet and observe as the captain makes his way to them. To his own place. Time seems to come near stopping, and it crawls forward slowly until the ship's AI sends a greeting message, and displays it on a small holo screen that appeared between the captain and the two officers. It's in silent mode, so the holo displays show a face that isn't really male or female, and as it's lips move the subtitles appear on the bottom of the screen. The captain makes a swinging motion with his hands, and his eyes light up for a second as the large holo screen is moved to his retinal implant. He smiles at the two men in front of him and salutes. The two man salute back, and one of them grabs a terminal lying on the large desk behind him.
-Captain Iunius, this is the report of our engagement so far.it contains data we collected in our last battle as well, so i advise you read it. It is updating as we speak, so you shouldn't miss any details that you need to know about.
-Very good Tacitus. Now stop looking at me with such fearful eyes. If we had any reason to be afraid then the sirens would already be blaring.
The second officer snickers and sits down on the desk, his stature relaxing. The man by the name of Tacitus sends a vicous look at his partner, and then follows his example and sits down into a chair by the the captain's. Then Iunius sits down into his own chair that looks more like a throne that can turn 360 degrees. He scrolls over some data and video feed, and swipes some over to his implant. His gaze is lost in the terminal, holding tightly onto the thin metal piece that emits the screen's hologram. The bridge is in silence once again, and the CIWS fire is still going on outside, more furiusly than before. However this is barely noticable, and the only real evidence of this is the flashing screens imitating the windows. Many more ships seem to have joined theirs, and occasional flaks explode in the background, a few dozen miles ahead of the captain's ship. Meanwhile he looks up from his documents, and clears his throat, looking at his subordinate sitting on the desk. The second officer shows a smile and looks questioningly at the captain, his hands playing with a metal pencil that he keeps flipping between his fingers. Iunius speaks up in his usual, soft tone.
-For the love of the Emperor, sit down in your chair Hilarus like any other officer would. You are not some xeno barbarian, so please make sure to keep that noble facade up, at least as long as you are on my bridge.
The captain turns back at his terminal and continues examining the data. Hilarus hops down from the desk and takes his seat in the chair, seemingly as cheerful as he was moments ago. Tacitus gives him a frowny look, and then turns to the holographic display in front of them that shows the battlefield. Hilarus shows his tounge to his partner as he turns away, fiddling around with the same thing, but now juggling with two pencils instead of one.

Below their deck, a couple of dozen man sit in front of their terminals and make sure everything goes according to protocol. Changes are not needed, and the captain doesn't need to order anyone around. Most of the tasks are completed by machines, powerful computers that calculate everything that the captain needs to know, and sends the data directly to his terminal. He would only need to say a word to change what the ship is doing, but no more input is needed from him. Unless there are some extreme manouvers needed, or if the captain wants to take direct control for any reason. But as things stand, the relative silence that controls the room soothens the soul, and eases the stress. The machines work, and nobody needs to go out of their way to do complicated tasks. This peaceful situation is not something one would willingly want to change. The captain makes a swiping motion with his hands, and the terminal of a nearby operator lights up. The man looks up at the command bridge in surprise to get a message, but then turns back quickly to obey the command. The holographic display in the middle of the room quickly changes and transforms into a smaller version, focused on ships in a close formation. It doesn't look like the previous holo at all, and some people look up from their terminals to examine it. In the background, many complex algorithims are running, and the picture is quickly getting more and moire detailed, and infomration about each target is starting to appear on the holo. The captain stands up, and puts down his handheld terminal on the desk in front of him. A control panel lies on the other side, and he inputs a few commands. The holo warps again, this time the shapes of the ships become enlarged, and then they are quickly surrounded by red circles of different sozes. Tacitus quickly speaks up to explain the situation:
- Our sensors picked up this group of Mekhar ships approximately two hours ago. We've been on a moderate burn since to close the distance. We've been staying out of their main gun's range until the captain arrived. However their missiles prove to be an issue, as their range is far larger than the other guns. The point defense is holding out alright, and we've not sustained any casualties so far. However it's only a matter of time before we have to engage them, or they'll warp out of the system. We're waiting on your orders to engage sir.
Captain Iunius zooms out on the holo with some basic hand gestures, and looks at the tactical map once again. This time it shows the Mekhar ships, closely pursued by a fleet a few times larger. Red and yellow lines around their ships show the effective ranges of their weapons, and blue and green lines show the vectors of all the ships partaking in the combat. The captain gently nods, and opens the intercomms from his control panel. His desk turns into a large screen, filled with the many faces of other captains, the ones controlling the ships in his fleet. He greets them with a lazy salute and then cuts to the chase.
-All units engage the enemy fleet. Stay in formation, and reroute powers to CIWS until you can engage with the main armanents. Start high G burn immidiately.
The captain inputs a few more commands into his control panel, and the holograph starts to show the realtime the two fleets approaching. The circles around the Mekhar ships reach the first human ship. Then the second and the third. The large yellow circle around the human ships is seemingly endlessly far away from the ships they pursue. However, the G forces start to push down on the people in the room, and a few dozen more pips showing individual ships in high G burns enter the red circle. Suddenly a large explosion lights up the room, the screens on the walls turning down their brightness automatically in order not to blind everyone in the room. The vision of the captain and his high officers darkess as their retinal implants turn darker for protection. However, the operators in the rows below put their hands in front of their eyes to shade themselves. The light dies off as the screen darkens, but the massive fireball can be seen outside the winodws ,expanding proudly ahead of the ship. As the large shockwave reaches the ship, it gently shakes the floorboards, their metallic clanking disturbing the peace that once occupied the room. The holo shows the ships from the human side still far from the enemy, but now with the pip that was representing the ship in the front transformed into a large red spehere of debree. The captain frowns and watches tensely as the first of the yellow circles creeps up to a Mekhar ship, and then slowly climbs over it, moving towards the next one. The other yellow circles follow this example, and quickly engulf the ships in the back of the enemy fleet. The captain gestures with his hand, and Hilarus drops his pencils and nods at Tacius. He opens the fleetwide intercomms, and gives a quick order.
-All units, concentrate fire on the closest target. We will break them individually. Do not change targets until you've confirmed the kills.

The metal plates of the ship resonate again, as many beautifully shining beams leave the neighboring ship's railguns, and then travel very quickly towards the enemy ships, already seeable on the screens with naked eye. The humming of the air circulators is now entirely silenced by other sounds, like the melody of teh CIWS, or the small vibrations coming from missiles launching from the ship, or railguns throwing massive slugs at the enemy at high speeds and light the sky blue with their tracers, shrieking in their electric tounge. All of the operators seem to be working hard now. Even the ones that were slacking off earlier are now examining the fresh water storage datas as if their lifes depend on it. Some look up and out of the imaginary window to take a look at the battle, and then turn back to their screens as the next alert pops up. The captain leans back in his chair, and rests his head on his hands. His presence is ominous, and his gaze is focused at the small dots in the distance that are the Mekhar ships. Another large explosin fills the windows, and the relentless fire becomes more concentrated as more ships from both sides join the firefight. Tacius looks up from his screen, and stands up to look out the window. A small shining dot in the middle of the screen seems to be his target for examination. Then the siren's begin blaring, and the words "brace" appear on every terminal and panel. The CIWS and flaks outside begin to focus on the shining dot, but the torpedo is too agile for them, and it deftly dodges many lines of defense. The payload approaches the imaginary window, and threatens the safety of the crew. But every man stays in his place, their focus on their own terminals. They know that they are either safe, or they'll die without even knowing that it happened. Panic is the paramount reason for failure, and every EOM officer is taught this.

Then the torpedo hits, and a mild vibration runs along the ship, the chairs gently rocking in the impact. The screen goes black for a second, before coming back online, showing the exact same imagery but from a slightly different perspective. Tacius looks at the captain in confusion, his hands tightly formed into a fist. Hilarus speaks up, his voice calmer than one could expect in a situation like this.
- It seems that the torpedo hit the main bulkhead where our armor is the thickest. It's possbile that it didn't activate because of that. The armor only suffered minor damage from the impact. However the torpedo is now stuck between some panels. Recovery will be hard in the middle of the battle.
The captain looked outside the window, where the flashes of light all meant individual payloads meant to cripple and eliminate ships in seconds. He turned to Tacius who seemed less afraid then before, but still tressed out. An eyebrow was enough to ask the question to his officer.
- Well, just like last time, our weapons seem to be ineffective against the Mekhar's defenses. Before the payloads hit some sort of an energy barrier blocks the shells and halts or redirects them. However, we have managed to take out two of their ships now that we focus fire. It seems that their defensive barrier collapses after a few hits from our high caliber railguns. Now we just need to keep pressing the ad-

The voilent shockwave stopped the officer from finishing his sentence. The crying voice of metal bending and transforming filled the room, and the alarms changed their tone and volume to overcome this new sound. The captain looks around the bridge with hazy eyes. Many of the operators were knocked out from the shockwave, and are now lying unconcious in their seats. The door opens behind him and a medical team runs in with a few guards carrying some mobile surgical tables and other medical equipment. The ship in the very middle of the holo has turned red, and is slowly falling behind the other ships. It took some time for Iunius to realize that it was their ship. His head ringed and his vison was starting to slowly fade away. He forced his eyes open for some more time, and looked over his terminal. According to the last data that the computers gathered, the torpedo that was wedged into the armor plates exploded, and caused significant damage in the front section of the ship. It knocked out some wepaons, but it ultimately didn't cripple the ship, apart from tearing the front armor up. The computers decided that the best course of action was to avoid combat with such a damaged layer of preotection and fall back behind friendly ships. And without direct command from the captain that said otherwise, the computers begin the protocol they were programmed to do to slow down the ship, and use the remaining thrusters in the front to lose velocity. The last thing that Iunius remembered before passing out was the gravity slowly shifting below 2G.

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elsewhere, elsewhen

-I am serious Jack! These barbarians are up to something!
The EOM Militia soldier didn't seem to pleased about the crowd. He constantly frowned and gave killing glances at passing xenos. His companion, named Jack, a less irritated person who was leaning against the wall, was wathcing his friend rant about their day job endlessly. He was quite amused by the things he could make up, and sometimes even admired him for that. Sometimes. He just finished another theory about how xenos are going to do yet another terrorist attack against some governement facility. But in the end these attacks never happened. So he was just as cynical about these as he was about the last dozen.
-Calm down Clark, it's not like every Xeno on the street is out to get you. They know better than to lay a hand on us or governement property. Just give your creativity a rest so I can stop listening to your crazy theories.
-I am not kidding Jack! They've been going to places after dark, and no matter how many times we beat them up they keep reapperaing and taking to teh streets. Usually they learn from a good beating, but for a good week or two now I've been seeing the same xenos out after midnight.
Clark threateningly swung his baton at a nearby xeno who was seemingly amused by their conversation. It seemed that physical threat was a good way to drive away interlopers, and the xeno made sure not to stick around such crazy individuals, and left quickly. Clark spit on the dusty ground, and frowned yet again, for the thousandth time today. His helmet's visor was lifted up, and he turned off all his systems. Mabye he just wanted peace so that he could threaten xenos to his liking. Maybe he was annyoed by HQ and all the helmet's systems. Who really knows.
-I am serious Clark, every xeno here looks the same to me. I don't know if its just me or not, but they are not very keen on showing their faces. Thats why they are wearing masks and those long rags after all. There is no way you can distinguish them by yourself.
Jack smiled as he saw Clark's furius face, and looked down on his gun. The job was boring, and randomly checking the xenos was never really fruitful. Most of the xenos here look very suspicious even if they did any kind of crime, so finding the guilty ones is not a hard task. Instead he uses his time to clean his gun, and maintain his gear. He swiped off some dust from his gun, and when he was sure that wiping the gun off for the 10th time won't make a difference in how it looks, he looked back at Clark. Jack was about to say something, but he was cut off by his friend.

-I don't give a crap about your rambling. You know very well that our gear can identify these bastard! - Clark gently tapped the side of his helmet to reinforce his claim. He lowered his visor, and walked away from the corner of the crossing. The dusty streets of the desert planet were small and not really developed. Sand was everywhere, and as he approached the middle of the small intersection his boots created small clouds of dust every time he took a step. Jack looked cynically over at Clark, trying to figure out what kind of stupid thing his friend was gonna do this time. Last time he tried to get one of the locals to speak human, because he swore that these bastards were learning their language for infiltrations. Not like they couldn't even pronounce words like humans, but Clark was hellbent on his own theory. In the end he had to force him off the poor xeno, and give a dose of sedatives to his friend. He was sure that he would have to do it this time as well, so grabbed one of they syringes from his pack, and held it up.
-Hey Clark, remember these babies? - Jack joked, and Clark didn't even look back just midle finger over his shoulder - Fuck you too!
His friend reached the middle of the intersection, and a small cloud of dust was already gathering around him. The black and orange armor seemed very faded and old with all those layers of sand. He hated this planet for having to clear his gear so many times. And maintain it as well. He hated sand, honest to god, more than anything in the world. He would listen to Clark all day if he could get rid of sand. But that was not the case, and he cursed the day he accepted this assignement. Watching a crossroad where only a few hundred people pass by all day.

Clark looked around, and he was searching for something in particular. The xenos were avoiding him as they traveled by, leaving a circle of about 3 meters in diameter completely empty around him. His activated his helmet's hud, and started an identiscan. The helmet tried to identify all the xenos in range, but the masks covered their faces, and their rags made it impossible to even determine their species if you didn't already know. And the helmet being a simple desgin, didn't know it already. Clark sweared, and stopmed the ground in anger. A few frightened xenos started to walk the other direction, obviously not impressed by the idea of passing by an angry EOM Militia. However, one of thes xenos caught Clark's attention. He remembered the dirty brat from yesterday night, when they beat up 3 xenos after dawn. The crack he made in his mask was still there. The gazed at the mask to make sure he was right, but it seemed like the xeno also remembered him, and changed to a quicker pace.
-Ey, stop you! - The xeno looked over his shoulder and then started to run away in fear - Stop it you little prick, or I'll have to make sure you leanr the law!
Clark gave chase to the xeno. It didn't take too long to catch the brat who was running away, as these guys had stubby legs which they really couldn't use to run very fast. He threw himself at the xeno and tripped it, pushing him down to the ground. He was sure that Jack was alughing at him from the corner. But he was about to prove him worng.
-In the name of EOM you are under arrest for suspicious behaviour. Now follow me you thwat before I beat you into pulp.
He stood up and pulled the poor guy up as well. They really weren't far from the intersection, Jack stood about 20 meters away from him, holding his stupid syringe in his hand. He pulled the xeno he arrested about the wholeleght of that 20 meters, as the guy was trying to run away.

-Oh my god Clark, can you not beat up random citizens, even if they are xenos? This isn't exactly stepping over our boundaries, but I prefer we don't just go around messing with people. Why can't we just sit still in some shadowy corner where its not 50 degrees and talk about women and drinks.
Clark gave him a vicous glance, and he made sure to take a step back, his syringe ready if needed. He hoped he didn't have to use it, but he wasn't sure anymore. He wasn't sure what his friend was gonna do, but he know that he was going to be just as responsible. So he better make it quick with the sedatives. He popped the plastic head off from his situational weapon, and turned to Clark. The xeno was on the ground, shivering in fear. Clark was in the process of trying to get the mask off teh xeno so he can scan the guy. From Jack's position it looked like a weird game of Tug 'o War with these two crawling around in the sand. He was about to step behind Clark and sedate him, but the shriek of the xeno froze the blood in his veins. From under his ragged clothes the guy pulled out some kinda device. A greande.
-Watch out! - Jack quickly jumped backwards to avooid the detonation, and landed just as the xeno pulled the pin.

The explosion was powerful, and the blastwave pushed him away a bit even when he was lying head down on the ground. A massive cloud of dust and sand emerged, and he ada to lower his visor to breathe freely again. Thankfully the helmet allowed to him to see better in dust and other wather conditions like that. He checked himself over to make sure he wasn't hurt, even thought the suit diagnostics didn't show any signs of damage. Its just an old habit, but who knows when the machines get something wrong. His ears were ringing as he dialed the intercom for HQ. The answer was instanenous, and he had a good idea why. A friendly woman voice asked him how she can help.
-Man down at the G-25 intersection. Lethal explosive device. We... I mean I need reinforcements and a medical team if possible.
His computer old him that Clark was dead. The small body icon in full red next to his friends name showed that this random xeno blew him up. After all, Clark was right. If these guys carry around explosives under their rags like that, then who knows what else they could be making. If he knew this he would've taken those weapon scnas more seriously. But now Clark's no more, and the only thing that remains of him is his warnings, and the red sand cloud that lingered in the air. He could feel his eyes filling with tears. He slumped down to his kness, and grabbed a handful of sand. Glassy pieces created from the heat, and red soaked grains of sand from the blood. Nothing remains of today's events for history, only his memory, and the records made by his helmet's systems. He could never forget the xenos. This job got a whole lot more personal, an until he avenges his friend, he won't be conetnt with his life. He needs to bust what the xenos are doing, for the sake of Clark. Not until there are no more xenos that could hurt anyone he is close to.

Relica High Orbit
EOM Carge Shuttle "Angora"
01:22 - Relica Central Time

“Relica Central Command, this is the Angora. Travelling at sub-light speed towards Relica. ETA in 25 minutes. Requesting permission to land.” The Angora’s communication officer said through his intercom. He had repeated the same sentence over and over and over by now. With an endless variations of them. Though always ending with ‘requesting permission to land’. Despite the subjugation of so many years ago, central command was still so squeamish. Even their captain agreed. But protocol was protocol.

“Angora this is Relica Central Command. Landing request accepted. You are cleared for landing pad T-25. Land estimate margin set to 10.”

The comns officer didn’t even bother to confirm and clearly Relica Central didn’t care. Despite the fact that it was in such a far corner of the galaxy, Relica got quite some visitors coming and going. Mostly transport ships to haul out the Relicium. With the course set towards the green and blue planet, most of the crew of the Angora started to unwind. When they land, they’d get about 5 hours of free time. Not enough to drain a bar. But enough to stretch their legs and enjoy a little walk. Maybe buy some discounted Relicant art. Being part of a transport shuttle crew did have its advantages. However, the officer was swiftly roused from his relaxed mindset by his colleague at Sensors: “Small cloud approaching at collision course.”

The captain jumped up from her lazy chair. “What? What do you mean? A cloud is going to ram us!?”

“I-I don’t understand. The pocket is too small and moving too fast. This cannot be of gravity.”

“I need a status update. Now!” Yelled the captain. Suddenly the whole bridge was buzzing to life. Officers enjoying a few hours of calm jolted up from their chair and started pushing buttons everywhere around.

“Visual in 3… 2… 1.” On the bridge the picture of a blue, purple and black cloud appeared. Though it didn’t show anything more than that.

“Angora to Relica Central Command. Angora to Relica Central Command. We have unidentified celestial occurrence. I repeat, we have unidentified celestial occurrence. How copy?”

“Relica Central Command. We copy. Please adjust trajectory.”

The Angora did as requested, adjusting their trajectory just a few degrees. The nav computer recalculated their path and gave the all clear. There would be no collision. The captain, relieved, dropped back into her chair. “As you were people. Nothing’s going to happen.” Yet right after she said that, the red lights started to blink again.

“Ma’am, the UCO changed bearing. Collision in 2 minutes.”

“This is Angora to Relica Central Command. Request-“ And from then the audio record got cut out. Relica Central Command tried to connect with the Angora several times on several frequencies as long-range scanners started to turn towards the last known location of the cargo shuttle. After a dreadful 5 minutes of scanners turning and preparing, the first images of what was happening pulled through. The UCO the Angora mentioned was passing along. Yet the Angora itself was floating aimlessly and in pieces. Emergency corvettes were scrambled to take a look at the wreckage. Inside the crew was left to suffer the worst fate in space: decompression.

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Relica Surface
High-Temple of the Seeder-Gods, High-Prophet Office
08:09 - Relica Central Time

“Absolutely unacceptable!” Yelled General Ulterius. Xanathor remained motionless in his chair as the human general continued his rant before the High-Prophet’s desk. “Relicants attacking our precious cargo shuttles. This is the 8th attack this month! Why aren’t your kin accepting our gracious gifts, Xanathor!? Have we not given your people everything they require? Food! Education! Enlightenment! Oh we have given them the name of their god and still they refuse to obey us.”

“The general population is obeying.” Objected Xanathor in a calm voice. The General turned around to face the High-Prophet. “Yet you continue to disregard our wishes. To tell your people that they should work harder for their makers. Is this how Relicants prove their gratefulness?”

“Let my people… adapt to this situation, general. You must understand, all of your kind that was there when you… found us… are now dead. Yet it is still a fresh memory in all of our minds. Give it time, and the people will see your.. light.” Xanathor felt disgusted by the way he was supposed to speak. These humans, what did they know of light and truth? Their lives were so fleeting and insignificant. There have always been generals before Xanathor. But in the last century they changed and changed. Now Xanathor couldn’t even remember their faces, leave alone their names.

The general eyed him with suspicion. “Your kin will embrace our ideals, Xanathor. I expect results sooner, rather than later.” With that, the general marched out of the High-Prophet’s office. After the 2nd door away closed, Xanathor let out of a sigh of relief. Talking to humans could be so taxing. It felt like he was talking to primates. To be fair, compared to the Relicants, the humans were primates. Young and stupid, they drifted through the void and drilled into their planets. Only to feed the beasts of industry their metal.
The door opened once more as Xanathor looked down into the streets below him. “My lord.” Said a voice behind him, one altered by cybernetic implants. Shadowwalkers used them so not even voice identification could pin them down.

“The general is growing restless. He wants us to up productivity.”

“The humans desire slavery.” The shadowwalker pointed out. Not that he had to. Xanathor knew. Humans were fueled by greet and desire. Once he started giving in to their wishes, they would never be satisfied. Not even when his kin worked itself into their tomb. “I need an excuse to postpone this announcement. We need time and our people should not suffer for it.” Xanathor didn’t need to say more. The Shadowwalker would understand. Amongst themselves they’d device the plans, execute the mission and manipulate the findings if required. It felt ironic how those most shunned by the Relicants now played a pivotal role in the fight for their freedom.

Sub-Sector: Ardis, Planet: Icarus Prime, City: Citadel-One

Below Citadel-One one bored guard was currently trying not to fall asleep behind his terminal. Unofficially he had the most important job on the entire planet - yet in truth, it was the most boring job equal to watching acid -resistant coating dry. Namely he was in charge of guarding the Delta-Servers. The computer system responsible for keeping the titanic Repulsor Fields up and the Vespen outside the Citadel.

John should have been proud of being handed such an important job - yet insomnia, problems with the miss and a flat-debt hanging over his head dulled his sense of gratitude. Namely his post was a simple desk-job that had become obsolete in the past three centuries. Before any attacker could reach the Delta-Servers they had to pass through the rows of automated turrets which could shred even an Order knight. Let alone even a Vespen would think twice before approaching the place - if the Vespen could think or even get this far. As such with no oversight or cameras to keep him motivated and with the defense system being automated as it was John eventually fell asleep behind his desk.

Unbeknownst to him, a tiny alien boy was crawling underneath him. His species long enslaved, it's culture and history long-forgotten and his only duty to mine and die in the service of the Empire of Man. No longer that was the case. The tunnel he was crawling through was ancient yet still intact. A thing log ago made by his ancestors whom had died by the millions to construct the Repulsor Fields. Now that knowledge had been passed to him and the time of reckoning was to cometh.

The boy named Yyggguh, soon reached the location that housed the server room. He wouldn't survive the act - but neither would he last long in the mines. He was a second son, sadly not enough food for him to live beyond ten years. With a final nod of sadness. He adjusted the explosive used to brake apart rock and stone - a small thing yet one that would do the job. He set the explosive and attached to a string crawled away a few metres. Hiding behind a rock in the hope it would shield him - before he pulled on the rope and everything went white.

Above, John was awoken by the loud explosion and the even louder klaxons screaming and yelling 'Alert' in a mechanical voice. John almost fainted when he looked inside the Delta-Servers room and saw a large hole with the machinery broken and leaking fluids. The effects following from there into the city above.

---

Grandmaster of Vision; Alexius Harakam was currently situated in Citadel-One. The glorious and wealthy capital of Icarus Prime. Walking beside Archon Menagerie - namely the 'official leader' of the Planet. Alexis was mostly droning out the man' speech of the splendor of the Planet and their achievements. Something that Icarus Prime had achieved and thanks to him had reached - ignoring the fact his achievements as Archon paled compared to the Emperor.

Alexius continued walking alongside the Archon - as he needed to get through this meeting to get to the important part of the day. Namely the details about the army, status of the resources quotas and so on. He nevertheless appeared respectful. As much as a two metre tall man in full armor and a sharp blade attached to his hip could be.

Alexius didn't have time to think about how he could speed up this process with the wealthy, corrupt and slightly mentally challenged in his opinion, Imperial. There was a loud klaxon flare - as a system three centuries old activated. As many young, old and furthermore human. Watched as the glowing yellow shields sparked and flickered - before the Fields started to fall, the yellow dissipating into the air.

A second of pause happened - as everyone stared at the Repulsor Fields - no longer up and titanic. Now they looked like tall skyscrapers, empty and hollow. Then came the shriek of a Vespen - and then the screaming panics of the masses below. The ancient information system - soon speaking in a female synthetic voice to the people around the Citadel. Please make your way to Citadel-One. This is not a drill. Evacuate to Citadel-One to escape the approaching Vespen horde."

"Well, Archon. It's time for me to go," spoke Alexius, as he soon jumped out of the window of the Archon' tower. Using his skill and blade to lessen his fall and soon land on the ground - with enough force to crack the pavement. But his natural condition and his armor helped absorb the shock.

"This is Grandmaster Alexius Harakam. Order Seventy-Seven is in effect," he spoke into his comm-system. Namely calling for he deployment of all Order warriors to the field. "So...it begins.."

With that final say, Alexius soon gripped his large blade and activated it's power-sheathe system. Soon charging into Citadel-Two and the approaching Vespen horde to come. Today the Order began its first day towards redeeming their name in the Emperor' eyes.

Somewhere, or maybe rather nowhere, an alien creature stared in a puddle of water. Water was strange for Stelaz, for its entire existence, the great sea of the Ithyll had been a sign of doom, an unforgivable force that claimed those unlucky or not careful enough. But yet, now it found itself questioning his opinion and attitude towards it. Stelaz had taught Lucretia in the material world that there was more than met the eye to the universe and made her realize not that there are things you cannot feel with your senses, merely that there were senses one may not always be aware of. It had allowed Lucretia to do what material beings would consider great things but that for an Isz like Stelaz were of trivial nature. But Lucretia was as much a teacher for it than it was for her.

And now, Stelaz was considering what it had been told, that there was certainly more than just met the eye to the water. In battle, the great expense unleashed itself against the Ithyll, so many parcels of land eroding away... The ocean, it was the unknowable mind of the other beings, it had to be! And if Lucretia taught Stelaz how to sail this vast expense, there would be so much to be gained... for the both of them. The eldritch being extended appendages toward the puddle but what came into its view were Crayven arms and hands. To manipulate the cosmos, Lucretia had to use her mind and as a facilitator, moved her arms around, trying to feel senses and muscles she didn't know where to pull through those she knew, it seemed to help. For Stelaz, it was perception, mind over matter. Yes. It wasn't drowning, these were just a pair of hands in the water... but there was something in there, slippery. It felt like...

Admiral's Rest, 4th Armada Station Command

Lucretia was brought back to reality as she felt her shoulder being shaken. A human would have blinked, but a Crayven did not have eyelids. She turned and saw Hotch, looking at her with amusement. "Everything alright General Lucretia?" He spoke with curiosity, concern and amusement, but pride came off him when he said 'General'. She was his pet project, he bet on her and since she won, it reflected good on him. "Sorry sir. I must have dozed off." The human, expressive as its race was, raised an eyebrow. "Crayvens can doze off?" A fair question... Crayvens didn't need to sleep, their brains seemed to be insect like as well, 'Too small to need to rest' as scientists said. It was said with condescending of course but for Lucretia it seemed a good enough explanation. She was 5ft tall and Crayven skull shapes were indeed smaller than most races. "I can. Maybe the need for sleep comes with higher cognitive abilities? No matter. How may I serve you General?" Hotch rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. How many time did he say the two of them were on equal footing? Well, you didn't undo 6 years of servitude like that... and for Lucretia, that was an entire life-time. "Konev wants to speak to you." Oh? Lucretia got up in a hurry, straightening her uniform and her tie. "At his private residence." Hotch added. Stopping her movement, the ant looked at Hotch, her featureless facial expression probably indicating doubt Hotch guessed. "I wasn't told anything but to tell you personally.

___________

In the car to the Admiral's luxurious mansion, Lucretia left her mind wonder as she looked through the window, her private chauffeur and secretary not paying attention to her and her not any to them. You'd think Lucretia would have many humans around her to watch what such a powerful xeno was doing, but no. Humans cared too much about their ego and prestige to lower themselves to such a level, and what would the news in the Empire say if they learned somewhere on a distant rock a human had to obey to a xeno... she had perfect secrecy, no one asked her to explain herself and she had since long passed the need of verbal communications with her subordinates. They just knew now, an invisible instinct. Animalistic maybe and Lucretia would agree. The rest of her race... they were almost non sentient, it was a shame, their skulls empty of everything but primal urges. Simply animals very, very good at using the tools showed to them.

It was probably why things worked so well here on Admiral's Rest. You didn't see the hate people saw on other planets here there was a form of harmony and people in fact tended to like the Crayvens, like how they liked a decent dog or a hard working horse. The Crayvens always did what they were asked without complain and were smart enough to remember how their master liked their coffee and other such trivial things. 'They knew their place' as humans would say, which was probably why they hated her, every single person who saw her with her General's uniform. She made them realize they were able to think, to outsmart people... that they weren't invisible, like a servant currently serving coffee to Grand Admiral Konev and his guest. They couldn't see him, listening... "...not like us... alien thinking... Still would... convince her? ...without a doubt..." Who was this person, had the Crayvens seen his face before? Yes... a democrat. He tried to do peaceful manifestations and protests against the authocratic ways of the Empire but... he had to flee arrest and exile himself in the Kegan Confederacy. Now he was with the company of Konev?

_______________

"Ah, General Lucretia! William Tunis, a pleasure to meet you. You may not have heard of me, but I have heard of you! An amazing sight, a non-terran serving alongside our other brave soldiers." This man was certainly something else. Lucretia, saluting her superior as she entered the room looked down at the hand of the other human, who had bothered to get up his chair to greet her and was now extending a hand for her to shake. Without stopping her salute, she extended her lower right hand to shake his. "At ease, general. Please take a seat." Having heard the command of general Konev, Lucretia executed herself and without much care for the other person in the room, sat down.

"General, now that you are introduced and comfortable, I believe we must speak of matters of the utmost importance." At the attention of the Admiral, Lucretia looked at him without speaking. There was hesitation in Tunis's face as she didn't answer or react in anyways. It took Konev a sign of the hand for Tunis to clear his throat and speak. "Hm, well, as Admiral Konev tells me your race tends to be to the point, something I guess is natural with your uh, average lifespan, I'll get to it. Lucretia, I can call you Lucretia? I believe you and your people have achieve something truly magnificent here. People always point at the statistics to show human-non human cohabitation is either hard or impossible but, these statistics don't hold here, clean streets, free of violence, homelessness and, god forbid, terrorism." Konev was right, Crayvens appreciated things to be to the point for since she lived less than a fifth of a human life span, every word said felt like five. There was a pause as Tunis expected a comment that never came. Again clearing his throat, he continued.

"But... I feel we can do more. It is time, for more. I mean... have you ever considered why we couldn't do this for the others? The other races I mean, make things better." Having been asked a question, Lucretia answered immediately and quite dryly. "No." William blinked, having obviously expected something else for an answer. "I uh... why not?" Konev had a heavy sight, the old man scratching his forehead at Tunis's failure to communicate. Lucretia spoke. "I fail to see how other species are relevant to me, the people under me or those above me. I do not care if things are better or worst for them." Losing patience, Konev stepped in the conversation. "To reduce the essence of the subject to the quintessence, General Lucretia, we would task you to go to xeno worlds and make contact with figures of authority. I've shown to mister Tunis my way to deal with xenos such as yourself is better than the rest. For the sake of efficiency it is time we implement this change, among others, to the Empire. There are other matters of course that go along with this but you needn't concern yourself with them. We want you to prepare the terrain for human negotiators, test the water if they'd be ready to support change within the empire. By the force of arm, if necessary. I presume I am crystal clear in what I mean, general?"

Lucretia got up and saluted Admiral Konev. "Sir yes sir! Should I make other preparations?" Konev nodded. "One light cruiser with destroyer escort, beware of observers, this needn't be known to the public. I want a detailed report on the xeno opinions of the subject, my secretary will transmit you the locations to visit. Before you leave the system, make the necessary preparations for maximum increase in Crayven breeding and training. If you have any other recommendations, send them to me, with discretion. Dismissed." Breaking her salute, the Crayven walked briskly out. Konev was used to this but visibly William wasn't used to this '...So robotic' was what Lucretia heard as she left.

_______________________

Governor Ohr-sah

You are hereby summoned by EoM general Lucretia on the 5th of this Standard Human Month at Capital Time 03h45 for a meeting, a car will insure transport at your office.

And already, it was time. Minor alien races in the region had been happy to plan a meeting with Tunis to discuss the matter of armed rebellion further and thus far, Lucretia had been dutiful in working in Tunis's interests or rather, in Konev's... but the Gargans... they were different. Unlike the other absolutely submissive races she had encountered, broken by the humans, the Gargans were notorious for the pirates that plagued their system. No fleet was able to operate without supplies and as a woman of the military, she knew it well. No, they were a different case, someone she needed on her side, not on Konev's.

She waited patiently, wondering what his reaction would be to rather than meet an uptight human general, summoning the Governor of an entire race to her car because she could and he had to obey, to find an alien... especially one with her proposition inside.

@Sophrus Should we RP this via note, discord or whatever before posting it all here or just to it in the IC one post at a time?

The Empire believed the Daenizens were made docile after they established a puppet Emperor under their control. If one knew little of the Daenizen culture, it would be unfair to judge them for thinking so due to the hierarchical nature of their society. But there was a reason an Emperor hadn't been chosen in 500 years. Daenizens are a race of honour, with their society being based around Glory rather than capital or breeding. And as the centuries went on, the Empire backed Ohmni family began to slowly lose control, as they preferred to indulge themselves rather than prove their worth.

Roughly fifty years after Empire dominance, a movement had started among the dissatisfied Daenizens. Known as the Children of Xythae, they predicted the return of Xythaen, who would free them from the chains of the Empire and the traitors. At first it didn't seem like much, a few groups of peasants revolting here, shipments disappearing there, but these were just distractions. The real battle lay in the political realm, where power was slowly being stolen from the pro-Empire faction. As the third century of Empire Rule came to a close, the Daenizens were all but ready to make a move. All they required was for the second coming of their God Emperor.

When a guard capitan by the name of Zane Alkeim led a rebellion against one of the last Pro-Empire Kings, it was the true start of the rebellion. Called the second coming of Xythaen, his charisma and battle prowess led the rebels to take over Embla. On the steps of the Grand Palace, he gave his first speech.

"My fellow Daenizens, I will be brief. We have ousted the traitors from our midst, but this is only the start of our battles. Though the Empire has been blinded to our actions, the results of our war will soon reach them. But what strangers are we, the Daenizens, to war? And Draconi, are you cowards who shirk from a fight? No! We are the Xythae Empire! We have lost much, but that just means we have to take it back with interest!!!"

A resounding roar echoed across the plaza, as the sleeping dragon of the Xythae awoke once more to bare it's viscous fangs.

Uthuun
The Basilica

Llyena awoke. Her eyes snapped open, she flung her arms up and grabbed the edge of the vat, hauling herself out of the biogel. She crawled onto the floor and coughed out the breathing tube, then retched out biogel that had filled her lungs. It was not a pretty sight. She looked around. There was no attendant in sight, but there was a pile of warm, soft towels nearby. She grabbed a few and sat down up against the wall. An attendant finally arrived and began to sputter an apology, but Llyena sent him off with a reassuring thought. She was honestly surprised to see an attendant in the cloning bay at all. It wasn’t exactly an essential position; even if rebirth could be traumatic, most Ashtar were so used to it by now they scarcely needed someone to hold their hand after awakening. The man would be of more use in the factories. A thought drifted out of the Union in response to her line of introspection.
One more in the factories would hardly make a difference, but one greeting the re-awakened can be all the difference in the world.
She considered arguing with the person or people behind that thought, but she was too tired to be bothered.

What had killed her again? Ah yes, an exploding power conduit aboard In the Deepest Chaos of the Universe We Experience Only Prevailing Tranquility. She’d considered not returning this time. She’d seriously thought about letting her mind drift away into the depths of the Union, towards eventual oblivion. Not that her mind would truly ever die, but it could fade into something vague and ephemeral, unrecognizable as herself and unable to return to a body. It was tempting. Perhaps then she would stop feeling tired.

But she was needed. Her people, her god, the awareness of the universe itself needed her. She sighed out loud, and began to get up when a mind touched her own. Lexus.
“We want to speak to you,” his voice sounded in her mind.
“As always,” she replied, with a bite of sarcasm. Lexus ignored the quip. In a moment, she felt other minds reach towards her; she in turn reached towards them, and suddenly she was elsewhere. The Pinnacle of the Basilica. Not as it was now, with the shattered windows and holes in the walls, overlooking grim factories, but as it had been on lost Ayrie. Llyena was at the center of the chamber, bathed in blue sunlight. Outside, the towering spires of the planet-wide city gleamed. It was all an illusion of course, she was still in the cloning bay. But it was a comforting illusion.

The five Hierarchs occupied their thronelike chairs, looking down on her. She smirked. “My, how formal we are today.”
“My, how snide we are today,” Ichael replied, returning her quip with one of his own.That was a good sign; it meant he was probably in one of his good moods.
“May we maintain some bare semblance of decorum?” Lexus said testily. “Thank you. Llyena, you are summoned before the Hierarchs on this day to receive direction. The time of the Choice draws near, and one of the Guests has not yet arrived. This can not be.”
It seemed they were going to go over the whole thing again if Lexus had his way. Llyena hoped one of the other Hierarchs would intercede and get to the point, but it seemed she was out of luck. She suppressed a sigh and adopted an appropriately attentive expression.
“The final Guest, the Fifth Incarnation of Humanity, the Emporium of Man, has been waylaid. We suspect the forces of Harbringer are at work,” Nezia continued from where Lexus had left off.
“The Emperor. He has taken humanity from its birthplace, and set it on a course towards destruction. The races of the Triangulum will eventually turn on their masters and cast them down.” Arctus’s turn evidently.
“Humanity can not ascend while the Emperor lives. If our Task is to be completed, he must die.” Ichael intoned his usual part of the narration with a slight smile, aware of how repetitive it was. Llyena looked to Cyris expectantly.
“The Emperor must be destroyed, but Humanity must be saved,” Cyris wrapped up the prelude to the actual conversation.

“Production continues on the Sacred Armadas. We are seeing an increase in construction rates on our cruisers, but we are no closer to building new capital ships. I estimate another two hundred years before we can match the Emporium’s fleets.” Llyena delivered the update as she had a hundred times before. But something was different this time. The Hierarch’s expressions grew troubled.
Cyris broke the silence. “We can not wait that long. The strands of the the future begin to coalesce. I believe the Choice will be upon us within the century.”
Llyena’s jaw dropped. After all these countless thousands of years, the Choice was to happen in less than a hundred? They weren’t ready! They couldn’t possibly be ready! They couldn’t hope to overthrow the Emperor that quickly, much less guide humanity to ascension.
“We may have to be more...direct...in assisting humanity to ascension,” Nezia said, sensing her thoughts.
Lexus nodded. “As for the Emperor, we are forced to concede that you have been right all along. We cannot do this alone. We will need allies.”
Llyena tried to suppress a sense of triumph. She’d been telling the Hierarchs for years that they needed to reach out to the other inhabitants of Triangulum. Now they were finally ready to listen. “I will begin the search immediately, noble Hierarchs. We may no longer have PsiNET, but trade ships from the compound worlds will act as scouts. We will seek out resentment, rebellion and dissent, and we will forge it into a sword to strike down the emperor. There are allies to be found, I know it.”
The five Hierarchs considered her for a moment, but were evidently satisfied. The room abruptly dissolved, the psionic contact disengaged, and Llyena found herself back in the cloning bay. She smiled to herself. There was work to be done.

Deep in the urban jungle of Amdam, the capital city of the planet, three Aure sat at a row of ancient equipment. It all looked particularly scavenged, each part mismatching and put together with hopes and dreams. This was the best equipment they could get their hands on, the trash of the humans. They had spent years gathering the right resources and materials, putting together bits and pieces from dumpsters and loaner pools. They couldn’t order any new equipment, no matter their positions in the city’s tech departments. Doing so would be suspicious and undoubtedly cause an audit.

So instead they focused on getting what wouldn’t be missed. And now, after all those years of collecting, now was the day. Another Aure further up along the Emporium’s structure had secured them a set of proxy servers, allowing their transmission point to be vastly different from their origin point. They hooked the proxy connections into their digitized radio network, and set the transmission point to a deep space satellite. It would be near impossible to track them down by their signal, and this was by all means intentional.

For they were creating a pirate radio station. They would be breaking all kinds of federal communication laws in doing so. If they could be tracked, they could be caught and charged. This was unacceptable. A countless number of Aure had assisted in the info security section of this project, securing every last bit that came in and out of the station. The Emporium’s training had paid off for them. That, and the humans looking down on their jobs as vermin. Very little attention was paid to them as long as none of their encryptions were cracked.

Now was the moment of truth, to see if their little plan worked. They first loaded up a song, to announce their arrival to the frequency. It loaded fine, and their test radio in the other room picked up the signal. The broadcast was a success. Letting the song play out, the three Aure nodded to each other. One of the Aure, the radio journalist named Mieke, prepared her script. She had a job to do, and she wanted to get it right. The two other Aure stepped out of the broadcasting room, moving to their respective control panels. They had to be careful with the equipment. It was very much junk and was very prone to breaking down.

The song ended. It was time for the first broadcast to officially begin. Mieke took her place, cleared her throat, flicked her ears, and began.

“Hello and welcome. If you’re listening, this is Freedom Radio. For too long the Emperor has trampled on our rights. For too long the Emperor has ruled with an iron fist. For too long, I say, the Emperor has treated our galaxy like trash. For too long have our species been depopulated and killed to make room for humans. I believe that today can be a new start for us all. A new start for freedom, for peace, and for justice. This galaxy will not rot and fester under the boot of the Emperor forever. We all must do our part, and I am ready to do mine. Are you?”

She paused.

“Everyone has their role to play. I will do my role. My fellow broadcasters will do their roles. And you will need to do your role. In the name of justice, let our will be done. This is Freedom Radio, and we are now officially on the air. Stay tuned for inspirational music, news, and hope.”

She stopped. The microphone switched off. Her part was done, for now. The other broadcasters began to load up a playlist of music from the various xeno races across the galaxy. They entered the broadcast room, and shared a few quaint smiles. Their dreams had come true, and they had their radio. There wasn’t much to be said between the trio. They had worked so closely together for so long they practically knew each other’s thoughts. They didn’t know if anybody would listen, but they could certainly try. They knew that at least their radio would be galaxy-wide.

Militant Prime Boh-Dak stood on the bridge of the carrier looking at the swirling clouds of the nebulae. His rage at the humans had long since burned cold and been replaced with a tempered steel resolve to eradicate the humans wherever he could find them once the time came. There was no malice or cruelty behind his desire to exterminate them, simply an eye for an eye. His people had once been a powerful empire spanning several systems with dozens of planets and moon colonies, they where now confined to their homeworld forever changed by attempts to kill off the last of the Gargan. However their planet being occupied is why the remnant of the navy are shackled here rather than murauding through human space. Boh-Dak sighed, it was pointless remenicing, he called to on of the officers who was half asleep in the chair. The officer jumped at the sudden order.

"Liutenant! give me a status report on the fleet" Boh-Dak shouted again

"Yes Militant!" he replied and called of the most recent state of the fleet

Boh-Dak read the report, it was less than encouraging, over the last year the makeshift shipyard had managed to produce 25 frigate and 5 cruisers. Over the last year the Empire had destroyed 30 frigates and 4 cruisers. The shipyard hidden in the nebulae could hardly keep up with losses, and harrassing the cargo ships was becoming less and less viable as his fleet shrunk and the Imperial navy's noose grew ever tighter. he read down the list:

1 Hive class Super-Supercarrier
The Forsaken

1 Grand Battleship
Siege Breaker

4 Lance class Battleships
Foe Hammer
Aegis
Mayhem
Skull Cleaver

12 Spear class Battle Cruisers
20 Arrow class Cruisers
40 Needle class Frigates

After studying the list that he already knew by heart he ground his teeth and called up the Secundus, he was training. Which was good, the Infantry had never actually seen ground combat so constant training since their induction was the only way to prepare them to fight vetran troops. The secundus was in a suit of powered armor when he came over and answered the display making him look much larger than even a human.

"Secundus, Tell me of you troops. What is the status of our invasion force"

"ah, We have 500 suits of powered armor, and about 50,000 droids ready for combat" he replied.

The secundus was much younger than the prime, however his tactical genius was unparalleled within the Gargan forces as far as ground combat was concerned. He did have some difficulty with space combat, while by no means inept he was nothing when compared to Boh-Dak. This is why they complimented eachother so well, the two generals could wage war on the ground and in orbit. At least they believed as such even though they had never fought a true battle other than pirate skirmishes. They where about to go into discussions on erecting a second shipyard to actually increase their forces while fighting the good fight when a message pinged their terminals, an outside message sent from the homeworld. A highly encrypted message message from the Traitor human Jakob.

Militant, important news.

A Xenos General, Lucretia, has come planet side and requested meetings with the Governor. No news on the content of the meeting nor the cause.

End.

---

Governor Ohr-sah

You are hereby summoned by EoM general Lucretia on the 5th of this Standard Human Month at Capital Time 03h45 for a meeting, a car will insure transport at your office.

The governor prime looked over the message that appeared at his terminal and checked the time stamp, only about 2 hours from this compulsory meeting. It doesn't expressly say so, but any meeting with an EoM general is compulsory. He sighed trying to work out why the message was so late in getting to him, surely the humans at the orbital comms station just screwing with him. He glared at the message not recognizing the General's name as one of the planetary generals, 'Lucretia... I know that name... Lucretia, the Xenos general under Korsev.. Korsov? whatever.' Ohr-sah thought to himself 'Why does this Imperial loyalist want a meeting with the Gargan?.. probably some kind of nonsense about becoming some kind of glorious defenders. He scoffed at the thought. He has a hard enough time trying to keep the most militant groups from open revolt with the strained relationship already in place much less trying to help protect their oppressors.

Ohr-sah swipes the message away noting the time, and proceeds to his other work. He sorts through the small mountain of financial reports. Engineers, farmers, chemists, all providing reports of their productivity, nothing about individual factories or fields but over all planetary production. he turns all the planetary production over in his mind, if they where all making bombs and bullets how much they could make if they where in a full scale war. He never thinks the day will come that his species will take the war to the Empire, but it was something he was trained to do by the former Governor. He glances back down to the time, the meeting was soon. He left his desk and marched out the office, adjusting his breathing mask, and goes out front, approaching the only vehicle on the street. He sighs as he approaches the vehicle that was obviously made for someone roughly twice his size. It always annoyed him that his race was smaller than humans, he knew it made believing they where inferior much easier. Regardless of their enduring resistance to their human overlords when most other races had died out or become slaves.

He paused a few steps from the vehicle and took a deep breath of his personal chlorinated atmosphere, composing himself and preparing for whatever madness the meeting had to offer. Meetings with generals where always so exhausting.

The door opened by the push of a button from the driver, another Crayven, revealing the anti-like xeno inside. Lucretia was in a decently sized black sedan, almost half a limo with seats facing each other on the back, but still sat at the edge of her seat. No matter her size, the insect still had an abdomen attached to her rear. Leaning backward on most seats was impossible and they were always uncomfortable. "Governor Ohr-san. Get in." Crayvens never were ones for small talk. Of course the aim of the meeting was to get this little fellow on her side but one thing she noticed from Tunis and the other humans she met, people that suddenly changed their habits for you needed you. Lucretia wanted to project strength, that it was he who needed her.

She waited for him to seat as he wished, two pairs of hands joined atop of her legs as she looked with her unblinking eyes a possible ally. "My time here is short." On this planet and her lifespan as well... "...So I'll be brief. Grand Admiral Konev knows you are dissatisfied with your situation and offers you the opportunity to better it, should you be willing to fight for new rights. Increased home rule and the possibility to serve in a democratic process for your people, should they serve the New Order in an appropriate fashion. The plan is strategically sound and the future it proposes in the realm of the possible." And now, silence as Lucretia tried to read the person in front of him... rather quite literally as somewhere or nowhere, a puddle of water was being looked into. There was a lot more to this, but Lucretia had to probe him first.

Ohr-sah stared at the general, ensuring his face belied no feeling on the matter. This made much easier by the mask covering the majority of his face. He listens to the short proposal that sounds much like high treason, the idea of the Gargan's being autonomous and having rights is a dream he had always entertained but never one he expected to come to reality. He mulled over the proposal for many long seconds, 'This must be a trick.' he thinks to himself 'baiting the leader of an unruly species into discussing treason, an excuse to execute me' He looks down at the floor boards of the vehicle and chooses his next words very carefully. "General... What exactly are you proposing, I do not fully understand." He says trying ascertain the general's true intentions. He simply didn't believe that the general was proposing open rebellion against the empire.

The unflinching alien stare did not falter for a second as Lucretia gave herself a moment to think. "You lie. You fully understand, a xeno race like yours doesn't get to keep a security force and a governor of his own species, being it in name only, without understanding the subtleties of politics. But maybe it is what brings you do doubt my word. Someone used to lie and trick people often fears the same trick being used on himself. I encourage you to think, governor. Assuming I was there to trap you and this worked, what then? My testimony in court would be considered shaky at best as I am not human and then, once you were executed, you'd be a martyr and the fact that it would be proven that you had plans to rebel would only embolden the local population. This would all be extremely counter productive. If the Empire wanted to eliminate you, I would overpower you right now and slightly damage your respiratory gear to leave you to die a slow death before dumping you in a park somewhere, the coroner, a human or a Gargan working for the Empire, would then testify that you had respiratory gear failure as you took a walk. The spymaster in charge, which would have to be the Frodulentus himself as no one else has the authority to make Grand Admiral Konev loan me to the Secret Services, would then silently usher in a puppet of his choice..."

"At this point in time, Governor, humanity does not need an excuse to kill anyone. So here it is. Grand Admiral Konev has ordered me to officially propose you to form Gargan combat and support units under his command to fight the pirates that plague your region. Unofficially, he tasked me to prepare the field for a request that you'd support a Reformation Army to wage war on the Empire in the name of democracy. But you asked me what I am proposing, which is slightly different. I propose that you seize this opportunity, as I will, and back Admiral Konev with all the military power that you can muster. If everything goes well, your species will go from a semi-armed one subjugated by a galactic empire to a militarized one allied to a large but loose confederation of races ruled by humans. At this point in time, you would have many more options to exploit." And if everything went wrong, everyone involved would be genocided out of existence, but it was better to be positive. Lucretia had learned to believe in the very real power of positive thought.

He was stunned at the General's bluntness, and at the truth. Killing him would do very little but spark a few weeks worth of riots and revolts that would truly not help the empire at all unless they wanted an excuse to finish exterminating the Gargan... Not that they would need an excuse, they would as soon as the decided to. Thoughts whirled in Ohr-sah's head connecting ideas faster than he realized possible. A chance to be independant from humans, well from the empire they would still be under control of this Korsev. Trading one oppressor for another surely, but they would need Gargan military help which would mean they could openly have a military again. Which also meant Korsev could be cast off as soon as he was more trouble than he was worth. This would be open rebellion the exact kind of problem that would have Gargans purged from the galaxy if they lost.

"General, you speak of open rebellion and war if any imperial official heard of this we would both be executed as traitors" he started saying "Which would mean you are at the same risk as I, not to mention your commanding officer who would be ruined if talk of this came out before such an alliance was concrete. So i am inclined to believe that what you are proposing is an honest proposal." he paused still selecting his words carefully, nothing he had said yet was criminal or treasonous. He could go and report the general to the local officials and leave with his hands clean... probably. He couldn't, no matter how he turned the situation over in his mind the only thing that made sense was that this was a genuine proposal of an allied rebellion.

"You are correct in saying when you say pirates plague this sector of space, but they need not be fought. For they are only pirates because it is vastly more important for them to remain separated from the rest of the Gargan. In truth, they are the remnants of the old Gargan military they have been fighting for the past 300 years trying to dislodge the Empire from our borders. If you are being truthful the pirates would join your cause. I can not say how to reach them, nor where their base is located for i do not know." he pauses for thought, everything he said was entirely true, some of it unknown to the empire but irrelevant as it still places no blame on him or the planet bound Gargan for their actions. He was politicking and he knew it, but this conversation was a noose around his neck and the wrong word could hang him. "you understand the precariousness of this do you not? as Xenos yourself you must understand my skepticism of this proposal"

The general gritted her teeth in annoyance. Yes, she had considered everything, there was no need to remind her of the risks involved. Gah, if the rest of the universe could be more like the Crayvens under her, shut up and go along her plans. At 6 years of age, she was too old for this. But when he finally got around to tell her useful information, oh it was good. She had suspected there were links between people on the Gargan homeworld and the pirates but if it was the governor himself, it made her work so much easier. "Governor. I believe history has shown that when Crayvens rebel, they are deadly serious about it." Oh yes, in 300 years they had repelled the Empire 6 times, doing more damage than most xenos had done combined in the meantime, but had also come oh so very close to end it all. This time however, it was different. Rather than fight with pure violence, savagery and determination, they were going to surprise the Empire.

"But there is no place for doubt, Governor. For after all, what success did your remnant have until now? None. They didn't even come close to succeed. The truth is that even if all the xenos of the empire rebelled in unison today, we would fail and every passing year, we would fail harder and faster. You know this, humans are replacing you. You might have survived the draining of your atmosphere, but the human penis and human womb is beating you at every turn." Stagnation and decline while the Empire was in a golden age. Even if they waited out the Empire, what would be left of them once the humans finally fell by themselves? "So no, I cannot fathom why you'd be skeptical about this. Plus, this is going to happen with or without the Gargans, Governor. You understand what this means... the Crayvens are at the moment the closest thing there is to a race of xeno held in good opinion by the humans and once we rebel, as believe me this will gain traction and the attention of other races, others will follow. Now imagine if the Empire wins. Obviously, there shan't be a Crayven left alive to try again. And like every time a mass rebellion happened, you will be able to at best, expect several less possible allies and at worst, that the humans will cull you as well, just to make sure."

For effect, she left a silence and shrugged at the Gargan's hesitation. "There is no going on the side lines here. Either you join me, and fight like you've never fought before for the survival of your race... or you go to the Military Governor and tell him everything. That way I'm sure you'll at least be able to keep as things are... battleships flying above your capital, any petty general with a human uniform being able to summon and dismiss you as they please."

Ohr-sah ground his teeth, The General was right and he knew it. If this was a trap it was an elaborate one that did not make sense, if the humans wanted him dead he would simply disappear and it would mean nothing to the Gargan. They had lost many a Governor in such a way. He was unsure what the Militant prime would think of such a deal and he was the real one that needed convincing. The shadow of hope was there, that was undeniable. The craven had been a thorn in the side of the empire for a long time now, as had the Gargan. An alliance between the two would be natural although the alliance being headed by a human still disgusted him, but there was nothing for it. Korsev would never truly be the leader of the Gargan even if he pretended himself as such.

"Very well General, i am taking you at your word. Which will likely be the end of me but i was doomed long before i got into this car." He said finally and shuffling his breathing tank off his back and disconnecting one of the back up tanks. It was hollow and contained a simple data drive. "This is how you will get into contact with the Militant Prime Boh-Dak. He is the true leader of the Gargan people" His face becomes distant, like reliving a painful truth "...something we have not had in far too long" Shaking his head he dismissed the thought "It will not take you to His base of operations or himself, it will take you to an ancient Gargan listening post, Boh-Dak will find you there... i also recommend not firing on any pirate while you are there, your fleet would not survive." he says smiling, knowing that the general had only come with a cruiser and a few destroyers. "oh, and i trust all of the men with you are loyal to this cause"

There was one thing that resonated in Lucretia's mind. He had lied. He said he had no way to contact the pirates and it was a lie, most likely there was a lot more than this she wasn't being told. People lied all the time of course, her more than others even, but it made an alarm sound in her head that these xenos couldn't be entirely trusted. "I will send other people in due time, I have to live with the fact that the officers in the Navy are still mostly human, even if they are supposed to be on our side. Rest assured I chose my people with the utmost care governor, there shan't be any leak." The vehicle stopped, but the doors didn't open yet. "For now, you will assemble a small group of officers ready to fight for our cause and in a few days, they will be transferred under my command for joint training, it'll allow us to set a framework to integrate your forces in the war effort and see how well we can work together. Expect secret messages that you will have to follow to the letter. I will not tell of the details of the plan at the moment, but its aim is to take out all the forces in the nearby sectors in one swoop. As the Gargans are a credible threat for the empire, you will be a bait to mass the Imperial forces. Do not worry, you will not be sacrificed. The Empire knows the moment they start killing people is the moment the rebellion is official and they have to deal with it the hard way. Since this would be an ugly business, we can expect they'd send the less valuable troops around anyways alongside their less valued general, me." The Crayven looked away from the Governor, signaling the meeting was over as the door opened. "This meeting was satisfactory. May we speak again as Free Beings, Governor."

Icarus Prime Orbit
Imperial Navy Battleship “Hercules”
14:33 - Icarus Prime Central Time

“General, admiral,-“ the young aid greeted both his elders when he entered the observation deck. It was probably the emptiest room of the Hercules, the Imperial Battleship leading the fleet over Icarus Prime. “-initial sensors indicate that the Repulsor Fields surrounding Citadel-One have indeed dropped.” Both men merely grumped and the young imperial aid left the deck once more.

“You have waited long for this, Alexander.” Said the Admiral looking down upon the planet below. “You think the rebels did it?”

“Could be. Could be a trap to lure us down.” The general answered with well-aged wisdom. For almost 3 centuries the humans have been fighting rebels on and off. “These rebels… they are getting desperate. Destroying their own Repulsor Field generator wouldn’t be beyond them. Sure, they imperil their own. But they also create a danger for the humans. If anything, I fully expect a welcoming party once we hit the ground.”

The admiral remained silent for a moment, seemingly to process the words his friend and longtime rival spoke. “Is it not best, to show bravery when facing adversity. Is it not the will of the emperor that we will not cower behind a rock, but instead rise up and meet our foes head on. To challenge back all those that challenge us.”

The general let out an amused grump. “You are very right, Nautilius. You are.” With that, the general left the admiral.

---

Icarus Prime Orbit
Imperial Navy Battleship “Hercules”
15:06 - Icarus Prime Central Time

“Wheels up in five! Pilots will be briefed on flight! Stick together and keep to the plan. Red Squadron, you’re tailing Blue. Let’s go! Let’s go! Let’s go!” The hangar deck of the Hercules always looked like a messy ant colony from above. With multi-tier hangar bays and over 40 fighter ejection rails, it could spit out its fighters, bombers and other fliers in minutes. And now was such a time. Battalions were jogging towards their dropships while fighters boarded their Phoenix-fighters. The hyper-advanced interceptors served only one purpose: total air domination. Meanwhile, the slower Griffin-bombers were loading up. With so many explosives on deck, the deck hands were careful and painfully slow with it. Everywhere around a few officers were shouting orders from a stack of boxes. However, as quickly as they could bark their orders, the stage under them was picked apart again to arm the many fighters.

Not much later the first of the fighters were ejected from the hulking ship’s belly. Only to immediately start their descend. Not much later the Griffins joined them. The people of Icarus Prime, especially those of Citadel-One, would soon see the sky light up in flames as several dozens of ships descended into the atmosphere.

When the dropships left their bays, most bombers were already at desired altitude. One quick flyby was enough to gauge the seriousness of the hordes of Vespen. Not much later the first explosions rippled over the surface. While the bombers cleared out a beachhead, the dropships entered the atmosphere with clear orders.

---

---

Xthea High Orbit
Imperial Navy Carrier “Ares”
08:44 - Xthea Central Time

“Orbit established. Ares-fleet is checking in, sir.” One of the communication officers reported on the bridge. Admiral Uthilius looked from his vantage point down upon the terran planet. The humans had the rightful ownership of it. Yet some foul Xenos finally had the guts to openly challenge the emperor. The young admiral would not stand for it. He, in fact, volunteered to teach the Daenizens of Xthea a lesson. When he departed Ares’ homeport the politicians were still bickering over what force would be allowed and what not. To Uthilius, only the maximum usage of force was sufficient. He’d bathe the beautiful planet in cleansing fire and make the Xenos regret ever being born. “Priority message coming in, sir. Patching through.”

“Admiral Uthlius.” An ominous voice echoed through the bridge. “The decision has been made. Such open defiance against the emperor cannot be permitted. The Ares will receive the permissions required.”

“And what about the civilians?” he asked, anxiously.

“There are none. Only rebels.”

This was enough to make a smile form on Uthilius’ face. He made a small bow and the communication stopped. “Status on orbital bombardment?” he immediately asked. A random officer answered: “Delta-level, sir.” Righteous fury coursed through his vein. Some humans lowered themselves to drugs, but not Uthilius. He got his highs from a much purer act. “Commence bombardment! Target the hubs! Relay the orders across the fleet! Let the vengeance of the emperor echo through the void! Here and now, we shall make an example!” he barked through the bridge. A few decks lowered the first shells were loaded in as per command. Orbital bombardment was usually a dangerous and almost desperate move. Rarely could a shell be placed with such accuracy so it could support troops on the ground. Yet the gunners of the Ares were in a unique situation. And so the first shots vibrated through the ship. The shells their course upon descent were swiftly rocked and pushed off trajectory by the atmosphere and wind. But who cared if they landed on a tower or a shop a kilometer further? The humans on board the Ares sure didn’t. In the meantime, scout fighters were launched at a leisure pace to hunt down the Xthae their ships orbiting the planet. If only so the capital ships of Fleet Ares could start hunting them down too.

---

---

Aurae Surface
Imperial Governor Palace
12:28 - Aurae Central Time

“My lord!” Yelled a politician that barged through Razmus’ door. “My lord you must listen to this! You must! Such destructive words have not been said-“ but Razmus silenced him with a single look, after which he upped the volume of his wrist-mounted computer. The large governor’s office echoed the words of the brave yet foolish Aure. “Freedom… radio.” The governor almost spat out the words like they were rotten fruit. “How… have these vermin been allowed to set this up!?” He demanded from the politician, not really expecting an answer from the stuttering idiot. “Begone! And send General Valdzik.” The politician scrambled to get out of the dreadful office. Ever since Razmus’ appointment to the planet of Aurae, the palace had changed. Windows were sealed with metal and doors reinforced. When asked why, Razmus answered that one could not be careful enough. So far, the place was a lot more fortress and a lot less palace.

---

“Freedom… radio.” Muttered Vladzik. “You fear… voices?” Vladzik was the younger brother of Razmus and did not share the intensity of his sibling’s paranoia. Though it was well known that Vladzik had a slight obsession with security. “Dear brother, the airwaves will not kill you.”

Razmus didn’t take the joke well. He was eating but now slammed the far too sharp knife down on the beautifully carved table. The only piece of non-militarized furniture in the dining room. The many cracks on it proved it wasn’t the first time the piece of wood was mistreated. “They will give these vermin hope, Vladzik! Hope! Could you imagine what would happen? What if they think they could start a protest outside my house!? Or worse, a riot!”

But Vladzik remained calm: “Then I will roll in the tanks and slaughter them. As we always did.” But it did not satisfy Razmus. “I want action. We need to show this world that such open defiance cannot and will not be permitted.” Vladzik had to sigh, his brother always had a temper. But a part of him agreed. If the radio station continued, some more Aure might get the wrong ideas. He merely bowed and left the room. Razmus never stopped him, knowing full well his little brother would handle it.

---

A few hours later and general chaos ruled the outskirts of the capital. With EoM soldiers breaking into random houses. Those they caught listening to the radio station were dragged out. The stronger humans had no problems with that. Though some Aure resisted. A terrible mistake. Some officers were very much like their governor and general. There was always one Aure out of a dozen that resisted a bit too hard according to a terrible officer. A single bullet swiftly solved that. With an added benefit that others remained a lot calmer when they saw a bullet hole drilled through a friend’s skull.

Most other Aure were taken prisoner and prepared for a public mock-trial to be broadcasted over the planet. Some, however, were taken to the deepest dungeons of the palace. A place filled with blinding lights and dry air. A place where screamed would never be answered.

Mordenia-1000m below sea level, Filtration Room

Yantat scurried along the rusted steel floor, a groan coming from behind him. The noise came from a human who's gut was visible through gaping claw marks along his stomach. The lesser ghul had launched himself at the human before he even knew what had happened. Yantat proceeded to push levers and adjust valves, creating loud echoes in the dark room around him. The mechanisms he was adjusting controlled the filtration systems of the undercity and the heavy doors that prevented sulphur dioxide from leaking into the city and suffocating its residents. Well, it's human residents. Truth be told, Yantat was no extremist, the humans were bad but they would die out long before their glorious monarchs, the monarchs themselves must have disagreed as the Underlord had sent the spymaster himself to give him his task. He was to disable the filters and take all the blame for himself. he had hastily agreed , a chance to serve the Underking himself? He could never refuse such an honour!

After several minutes the lesser ghul completed his task, soon the deadly gases would reach the city and purge any human foolish enough to remain on their planet. As the final adjustments were made to the filtration system to allow the noxious gas, the slam of a door behind him and the stomping of boots made Yantat turn. "What the hell are you doing in here ghul?" The guard demanded as he entered the room, followed by two other soldiers.The guard's gaze moved to the bleeding technician on the ground. "What the hell? Stand down Xeno, or you will be killed!" The guard rose his weapon, aiming directly at the lesser ghul. Yantat had no intention of backing down; he screeched at the guards before swiftly climbing up onto the ceiling of the room, hidden amoung the pipes that would usually be pumping sulphur dioxide from the undercity. The ghul hissed and spoke in a broken dialect as he reached the top of the room "Soon the city will be cleansed of your races filth, and Yantat will be remembered for it. Not the monarchs. ME!" As quickly as he reached the top, the ghul leaped back to the floor, it's claws lunging out and catching one of the guards in the leg. His victory was short lived however, as the blast of gunfire erupted in the room the ghul dropped to the floor. Dead and his name forgotten before it had ever been known. "This is a problem. You two, go tell the captain and get some medical attention, I'm going to try and fix the ventilation system." The soldier in front ordered.

3 hours later

Mordenia-5000m below sea level, The Underlord's Throne Room

Valvathus sat in his throne of steel, like all other ghul architecture, it was rusted and had several large spikes erupting from the back. The arms of the seat were carved in such a way to allow the occupant to rest his arms easily without having to lean on any of the thrones sharp edges. The hall the underlord sat in was surprisingly well lit due to the thick reinforced glass floor that gave way to the fiery chasm of molten rock below. There were several bodies hanging just above the magma, held up by iron chains. The lucky ones had been dropped close to the fiery rock and had burned to death, the others hung there slowly dying of dehydration. The few human criminals the empire themselves had condemned pleaded for mercy and cried for help; the ghuls that hung there were silent and hung their heads in shame, humiliated that they had displeased their great monarchs. Along the walls of the room themselves were several out-crops, each of which had a armoured lesser ghul stationed on it, over-seeing the higher ghuls and humans as they spoke amongst themselves, in case of trouble.

Any chatter that had been going on in the room died out quickly as the heavy steel doors to the throne room swung open. The commander of the Empire's 'guard' burst through the door,flanked by two guards. "Valvathus!" The commander shouted, marching directltly to the higher ghul and staring at him expectantly. Valvathus sighed before slowly standing to his feet. The Revghul towered over the man, he wore a dark purple cape that was punctured by several spikes running along his back and atop his pale head was a crown made of the same rusted iron as his throne , it possessed the same spikey quality, with two large horns protruding from the front and several smaller spikes running along the back of the crown. As the underlord moved, his tail slithered behind him, covered in metal and ending in a brutally sharp tip. "Hello commander. How may I help you? Has another transport of prisoners arrived to rot away in our prisons? Or does the Imperium have new orders? Perhaps need of my armies,hm?" Valvathus spoke the the commander with a forced respect in his voice, he did not seem particularly bothered about what the commander exactly wanted. "One of your imps have killed a technician, attacked one of my guards and disabled the filtration system! We have several reports of worried citizens and several dead! Did you have any idea about this?" The commander demanded; his guard's raising their weapons, aiming randomly around the room. The lesser ghuls guarding above hissed at the guards below but they seemed to take no notice. The underlord narrowed his eyes "Do you take me for a traitor, commander? Me and my fellows have remained loyal since" he paused for a moment before he continued, speaking with a hint of venom in his voice "..since you 'uplifted' us. I will make a public condemation of the attacks, but I ask you to remind the public our planet is not the safest place in the glaxay and that these... accidents can happen. " The monarch waved his hand to two nearby Ravinelords "Go and see that the lower caste understands what has happened and inform them on the monarchies' stance on these attacks" he quickly returned his attention to the commander "I trust that will be sufficient for now commander?" He drawled. The human narrowed his eyes at the Revghul "For now.Xeno." he said before turning and marching out of the room, followed by the rest of his guards and the humans in the room.

Almost as soon as the final humans had left the room, the guards closed and locked the doors, Valvathus sat back onto his throne as his Ravinelords , including Zeneta and Wantet. "I see you found a suitable ghul for the job then, Wantet? Excellent, hopefully this shall strike fear into the human's who dare stay here. How many vulture ships have we managed to reassemble?" The underlord asked his Flame of War. Several ghuls of both castes had been working quietly in the underground ship yards to repair some of the many scavenger-fighter hybrid ships that were generally used for space combat "Only a dozen my lord, but we still have a dozen Swarm-carriers. One of those is worth a dozen of Vultures themselves!" Zeneta boosted. "Very well, Wantet, I want you to establish contact with all remaining planets on other oppressed worlds. I doubt we are the only ones plotting our vengeance, order them to seek out any potential rebellions and offer them our aid. But remember Wantet, if you and your spies are discovered before we are prepared to strike, you are acting alone and plan to assassinate me. Understood ,Shadowmaster?" The underlord ordered to the lesser ghul, although he hoped the plans would go smoothly, he was rather fond of the Shadowmaster despite his often cowardly nature. "As you say, Underlord" Wantet said before scrambling out of the room and all four limbs to establish communications with his various contacts throughout the galaxy. Technically basic radio systems the ghuls used would be easy to decipher, however the technology was so old in terms of the empire that it was unlikely to be commonly used. This would mean it would take several hours at least for Wantet's message to reach his spies.

As the lesser ghul left the room, Valvathus sighed in his throne "I hope you are ready to call the lesser ghuls to war Zeneta, the days of the Empire's presence on this planet are numbered."

@Legion02
Icarus Prime
Citadel-Two area
16:00 - Icarus Prime Central Time

As the soldiers of EoM touched down upon the finely build pavement and buildings that adorned Citadel-One - splendor that had been bought by the wealth of Icarus' mines all of which flowed into the coffers of the planet and the Empire of Man. Soon enough the soldiers, whom had landed on the planet - could see the massive Vespen horde approaching. Without the Repulsor Fields to keep them at bay they smelled fresh meat - be it human or xeno, they would eagerly consume it.

As one Marine Sergeant took aim - he could see the rows of teeth and eyes, that apporached him with eager hunger. Many others and him aswell, soon took aim at the beasts and when they were at range, round after round of ammunition was fired at the Vespen. Upon meeting contact, a few of them fell - yet many more kept charging, no matter how many times they fired - the Vespen horde kept closing in. Until...

"WE'VE BEEN OVER-" yelled the Sergeant, before a Vespen' teeth latched onto his neck and snapped him in half. Many others, an entire horde following after them - as the established beach-head was quickly overrun. Since in the three centuries, they had lived here - many Imperial might have forgotten that Vespen' carapace was very resistant against ranged weapons. Even the deadly laser carbines, often times doing nothing to pierce their thick hides. The horde soon charged un-opposed, eagerly spreading into Citadel-Two - the city that was most closest to the Repulsor Fields and unleashing a massacre there.

Many humans were torn apart on the streets or eaten alive - a large part of the xeno population having vanished. Namely into the hidden tunnels below the city and having completely destroyed the entrances - to prevent any Vespen or Imperial from following after them. Choosing an uncertain future over a certain and likely brutal death. But many other xenos were also eaten by the Vespen - as those whom were considered too symphatetic, too indoctrinated, or just too untrustworthy were left to be devoured by the Vespen.

Luckily the majority of the humans, had been alerted and fleed to Citadel-One to escape the Vespen horde and only the most dull or most confused remained. As the Vespen devoured their way through Citadel-Two they soon smelled the gathering happening in Citadel-One - eagerly licking their blood covered lips before making for a charge towards Citadel-One.

"ATTENTION! SLAVES OF THE FALSE EMPEROR! YOUR PATHETIC EMPIRE WILL FAIL!" declared the hacked ancient speakers then. A last message from the Revolution - a vengance long constructed over the centuries by the xenos who had slaves in the mines. As the Vespen was overrunning the EoM Army that were sent to stop the horde - the Vespen eagerly sprinted towards Citadel-One, where many humans had now crowded towards. Cattle waiting to be slaughtered as they had once done against the xenos. There was panic, there was crying, there was hysteria, there was prayer to the Emperor himself to come down and strike down the xeno beasts that would soon consume the human life of Icarus Prime forever.

"WE ARE THE DEFENDERS OF HUMANITY! WE ARE THE EMPEROR' BLAZING SWORD AND THE EMPIRE' CRUSHING FIST! HUNDREDS OF THOUSANDS OF HANDS READY TO DIE FOR OUR MISSION, IN THE COLD UNFORGIVING VOID! WE ARE THE ORDER OF ICARUS!" spoke a new voice in the speakers - namely that of Grandmaster Alexius Harakam. Taking it upon himself, to restore the Order status as the Empires heroes. As thousands of Order soldiers were mustered - more than likely any Imperial expected to exist. All of them armored and armed, weapons sharpened and armors oiled. Today, the Order reclaimed their status in the Empire of Man.

As they gathered and formed several linked-defenses at the only entrance into Citadel-One. All of them linking shields and blades, from where no Vespen would pierce through. Several rows formed, the first one being of the veterans, the second of the knights and the third and largest were of the recruits and initiates. At the very front stood the five Grandmasters - all wielding a weapon. A longsword, an axe, a poleaxe, a mace and even a spiked chain.

"ITS BETTER TO DIE FOR THE EMPEROR, THAN TO LIFE FOR YOURSELF!" roared Harakam - the Order answering his call as the Vespen horde impacted their wall and were broken against it. As the civilians cowered, and the EoM Army broke and licked their wounds - the Order slew the beasts of Vespen. Some of the Order fell, yet their lines didn't break and not one Vespen manage to brake through their lines and into Citadel-One.

Relica Surface
High-Temple of the Seeder-Gods, Ascension Chamber
19:09 - Relica Central Time
The Ascension Chamber was not a place like a chapel or church. It was small and confined. The walls were made of polished rocks. High over the heads of everyone inside a glass dome allowed the beautiful sun inside. The place had the tendancy of humbling everyone inside. It even applied to all but the most arrogant humans. The air was always fresh and smelled sweet. A feat produced by the Azure Heart flowers. Even on Relica they were rare, requiring a certain range of tempratures, humidity, and sunlight. Yet all these requirements were met in the yellow-stoned, light bathed hall.

A young Relicant sat on the simple wooden chair wearing simple, wool trousers. Before him, on the many ornate benches sat his friends, brothers, sisters, family members and a few mentors that managed to come over. An Ascension was not a ritual to be taken lightly. With the new implant came a myriad of duties and responsibilities. Even now, under human occupation, the Scholar-Warriors needed to honor their code. In fact, now most of all. For their ancient laws and principles were being tested. Not just by the humans but by Relicants too. So now more than ever, an Ascension shone like a beacon of hope, righteousness, justice and the honoring of a promise. A promise symbolized by 3 human Imperial Navy officers who were chosen to be the first to be genuinely invited to an Ascension. With them came the obvious press journalists. Propaganda agents took every chance they could to prove there was peace between the two races. If only to keep the peace on Relica.

From a door behind the young soon-to-be-ascendant, Prophetess Solaria came. While not as young as he candidate, she was still one of the youngest of the Prophets. Her strong beliefs, fused with her pacifistic preachings made her rise up to the station swiftly. For decades now, she tried to grow the relationship between Relicant and human. Despite the many stresses it suffered. Everyone except the Apprentice rose up in honor. With a single hand motion, the Prophetess allowed everyone to take their seat again. "We have gathered here, this evening, for a momentous occassion. Hydarim of Yvres. Apprentice of the Tranquil Order. Your masters and mentors have deemed you worthy, capable and strong enough to bear this Ascension and all that comes with it. Do you accept this honor."

"Yes."

"Do you swear that you will give yourself, in body, mind and soul, to the principles of the Order. Will you uphold its values even in the darkest of times."

"Yes."

"Do you understand what is asked of you? Have you grasped the severity that your actions can bring and the inspiration you can be to others?"

"Yes."

"I, Prophetess Solaria of Vascustem, ascend you to Scholar-Warrior. May your journeys take you to the Seeder-Go-" Then the Prophetess was caught in an explosion.

---

Relica Surface
Location Unknown
25:09 - Relica Central Time
Xanathor looked out from below the waterfall at the second moon, Eila. Early Relicants called the moon after the goddess of protection. The goddess that favored the Relicants over all other species seeded on their glorious planet. Early on the Relicants thought the Goddess would live on the moon after the gods left their planet (and later, they assumed, their galaxy). However, when the first Relicants landed on its dusty surface, they found no home or throne. Just a vast emptiness. One that remained until the humans decided it made for a good star-port. Even now he could see the filthy yellow light tainting the precious jewel.

He took a deep breath as he turned around to look at the Relicant on his knees. Two shadowstalkers stood next to him. Initially, the High-Prophet did not notice the Relicant on his knees was one of the mysterious order. Yet still, he had the same implants around his throat. “You did well. You did… Painfully well.” Xanathor told the shadowstalker. “The killing of Prophetess Solaria… I could not imagine such a plot. But… I’m sorry. I must ease my conscious. If only a little. Please… did she know?”

The Shadowstalker looked up with eyes of acceptance. “High-Prophet. You are not in a position to have an eased conscious. All our sins will be your sins. All our acts, you will account for. All our decisions were made by your command. This is the ancient pact the Shadowstalkers have with the Office of High-Prophet. Even during these difficult times- No, because of these difficult times, you must bear all these burdens and more.” To enforce his words, the shadowstalker grabbed his own voice-implants and ripped them out. Bleeding he sat up straight on his knees.

Xanathor could not help but close his eyes. The shadowstalker was right. They were but his hands. His commands performed. There was so little known about them. So little certain. Some thought they were more a force than a branch of the Tranquil Order. From the scabbard on his belt, Xanathor drew the hallowed blade of his office. It was reforged and replaced a dozen times. Yet it still served as the revered symbol of the High-Prophet’s other duty. To protect and defend his people. “I Xanathor, High-Prophet of the Seeder-Gods, Guardian of Relica and her people, offer you the gift of peace. Speak now if you must, or be forever silenced.” The shadowstalker remained silent. Xanathor understood. He rested the point of the blade right next to neck pushed down. For a second, he saw the Shadowstalker tense up, but as the blade dove deeper, he embraced his final seconds. “Thank you. Thank you and if you see Solaria… Tell her she did not die in vain.”

@NecroKnight

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Icarus Prime
Citadel-One entrance
17:12 - Icarus Prime Central Time

"This is Alpha actual, come in Squad Bravo, Charlie, Echo! I repeat, this is..." The voice repeated the message half a dozen times before stopping. Lt. Baker was getting very frustrated, his anger clrearly directed towards any object he could get his hands on. "On Jupiter's cock!" The lieutenant threw the radio on the ground with all his might, and the device broke in half as it hit the concrete tiles on the ground. He looked around at his men who looked at him with fear and confusion in their eyes. None of them had their visors on, and they weren't trying to hide their feelings at all. He looked at them briefly and then cleared his throat as he put on a calmer attitude. He sat down on a large piece of concrete that was ripped out of the ground by some explosion. "Alpha squad, Charlie squad, you guys are the only ones who made it here from your company. As it stands now, the goons of Icarus are setting up a defensive perimeter, and we are waiting for reinforcements to arrive at the drop zone." He looked over at a soldier next to him who was clenching his gun so hard that his fingers turned white. "Private, at ease. Save the anxiety for when you're shooting at the xenos. Now gimme your radio." The priavte stood forward, and reached for his radio. As he was handing it to the lieutenant his hands fumbled and he dropped the radio. This one didn't break like the last one, thought there was a large difference in their starting velocities. The lieutenant leaned down to pick it up, and the soldier murmured some kind of an apology as he walked back to his position in the formation. Baker looked at his men, most of them were people who he didn't know. His own squad was wiped out in the initial attack of the Vespen. "Do you know what this is?" The lieutenant pointed at his radio. A soldier in the line raised his hand. "It's a radio, sir." Baker smirked and looked up the sky above him. The silhoutte of the Glory battleship cast a long shadow over the square where they set up camp. Some 10 meters away another company held the same briefing, but said different words. He didn't want this briefing to be the last of his men's. "This gents is not an ordinary radio. This bulky piece of metal is your lifeline. This baby is going to save your life one day, and I'd happily give my gun for one of these. On the battlefield a radio is what decides whether you live or not. Information keeps us all alive out there." He saw the confusion in the eyes of the soldiers as they anxiously checked their guns, deciding whether it's really worth their time. "This baby is going to give us victory today. These vespen stand no chance against the will of the Emperor." He could hear the nearby company commanders shouting as well. He raised his voice to match the effect. "ONCE THE XENOS FEEL THE BURN ON THEIR BACKS AS OUR FLYBOYS DESCEND FROM THE HEAVENS ABOVE AND SEND THESE INFIDELS TO HELL, WE WILL SING THE HYMN OF THE EMPIRE ON THEIR BURNING CORPSES! GLORY TO MANKIND!". His men cheered in unison, and grabbed their gear as he stood up to make their leave. It was going to be a long day, but they had a perfect firing positin to hit the Vespen from behind the Order's lines.

He left his man who were packing their gear, and headed over to the other company. Their commander was also finished, and stood up as soon as he noticed baker approaching. They shaked hands, and walked away from both companies into an open part of the square. "Where is that bloody air support? Our boys got massacred out there but I didn't see a single bomb being dropped!" The other commander didn't look half as anxious as Baker, and he just shook hishead in response. He grabbed a box of cigaretts from one of his pouches, took one out, and started smoking. After a deep breath from the narcotic, he let out a large grey smoke cloud and replied. "Appereantly the repulsor field's residual messes with the scanner. A few birds went the other way, and high command didn't saw it frr for anything flying to approach the area. It will take some time for the bombers to get here, but the gunships are already enroute to our position." Baker was relieved to hear that. Then the sound of sirens interrupted the discussion, and a message from the loudspeakers informed them of what to come. "Brave men of the Empire. Today you will make your stand on this ground, sacred by the will of the Emperor. You will purge the city of the Vespen, and bring glory to your names, or die in the honor of the Emperor. All squads, move to your positions. Glory to Mankind." The commanders nod, and then left for their squad.

17:40

An explosion vibrated across the grand entrance to Citadel-One. The concrete walls trembled and fine dust fell from the heights of the massive construction. Knights from the Icarus order stood in formation, taking on the Vespen horde head on. The EOM Militia took positions behind them, elevated on the massive stairway that leads into the city, and the last safe zone on the planet. The sounds of automatic rifles and large caliber machine guns filled the air, only briefly interrupted by explosions. Some shouted commands in the EOM lines, and the knights shouted praises to the emperor. The Vespen fell in numbers that are hard to take in, but after each Vespen came another one, and they climbed over their own kind's corpses to get to the entrance. The bloodlust of being deprived from the favourite snacks drove them mad, and their masses threw themselves at the defensive lines. But it wasn't only them who took casualties. The order of Icarus took many losses, and even thought they stood their ground firmly, it was beginning to look like they'll run out of men before the Vespen stop their assault. A machine gun stopepd firing, and then another one stopped as well. The long lines of tracers began to disappear, and turn into much smaller bursts. The sounds of guns started to die out, and the shouts from the EOM lines can be clearly heard now. "Where are the goddamn reinforcements? We are running out of everything!" A few men in large bulky suits ran down the stairs to the firing positions carrying a large crate, and dropped it hastily as they reached the other men. Like ants who found sugar, dozens of men raced to the crate to refill their ammo. It wasn't enough for all of them, and by the looks of the people who carried the crate it looked like it was the last one as well. The mortar team was the only one still firing happily into the Vespen lines. Large explosions trembled the ground every time their whistling shells hit the ground, and Vespen fell in large quantities. The mortars fired yet again, the low hum of the coils inside lingering around for seconds.

The explosion was much larger than they thought it would be. Then another large explosion shook the ground, and soon enough the sound of autocannons spewing shells accompanied the dying sounds of the Vespen. A shade larger than the grand entrance slowly crawled forward into the Vespen lines, and hid the sun from the sky. Every man in the EOM lines forgot to fire for a second as they looked up at the source of the glowing tracers that now happily chewed up dozens of Vespen at a time. The battleship that usually hovers over the capital building was slowly floating towards the origin of the Vespen, and each time it fired the hordes seemed to be pushed back tens of meters. On the massive armor panels of the construction, a name was painted on in orange letters. "The Champion of the Skies" Cheers from all over the Militia lines filled the entrance, and their guns fell silent. The Vespen horde was stopped, and their bloodlust was fletting away, as were their numbers. The large animals changed direction, and instead of running into certain death, they ran back into the forest. The tracers and explosions filled the large clearing in front of the EOM lines, but they soon stopped, and the large ship came to a halt. From behind it came numerous gunships at high speeds and then landed on the square behind the firing lines. Fresh squads jumped out from them, and brought the much needed reinforcements. The battle for Citadel-One was won, but the day will be forever remembered as the bloodiest incident of the Militia. Heads will fall in the wake of the Repulsor field's sabotage, and the rebels will suffer for their insolence and treachorous acts against the Emperor.

Icarus Prime
Citadel-Two area
20:00 - Icarus Prime Central Time

It took the Order around three hours to clear the way to Citadel-One. Alot of Vespen corpses had been thrown around everywhere - they needed to be cleared away, otherwise they might clog the way forward and of the humans whom would be landing more people into the meat grinder. The humans were very ill-prepared in the initial landing and assault - evident by the several empty transports that were lying on the many finely crafted streets of Citadel-Two.

The Grandmaster of Combat had his hands full, as he was having initiates run and fetch several old texts and datapads - namely indicating what ground-weapons worked best against the creatures; documents kept updated and intact for three centuries. Namely anything below heavy-weapon classification was useless and a waste of ammunition. Instead, the EoM could put it to better use - namely hunting down the several thousand xenos that weren't present with the other people in Citadel-One. Or present amongst the dead in Citadel-Two - atleast not in the amounts that was recorded. High-powered orbital scans would show a large tunnel system, running down the Alien Enclave - one dug during the three centuries and missed by the Archon and his police force.

The Order also carried and laid its own in a row next to eachother. Several of the Order' veterans dead - with only a white sheet to cover them. While their weapons were passed onto the next kin - letting many of the EoM citizens see whom had saved them. The bodies themselves were guarded.

Once the Vespen were dealt with and a barricade was slowly being made, another problem started to arose amongst the average person. Namely the situation was volatile and too dangerous for them to just returned to their homes - that also included another problem that has plagued mankind for eons; namely the issue of food. Many others waited for the Archon to appear, to give them orders and hope for their future. Instead, they got the Grandmaster of the Order; Alexius Harakam dragging the Archon out by his his leg and depositing him in the middle of a circle of people.

They looked confused and frightened - until Alexius spoke up, holding a datapad in his hand. "There is nothing," he spoke, throwing the datapad on the floor, from several citizens picked it up and started reading. Namely Alexius had left to coordinate with the man and found him locked away in his personal bunker. Why? Cause the resources usually set aside for bad days didn't exist.

Namely the Treasury - kept up by Icarus Prime' mines - was empty. Utilized by the Archon for his own personal luxury, the food stores that were stored up incase of invasions - also gone. Sold away and the money used for more luxurious benefits.

"You have wasted the Emperor' resources and I declare you a traitor to his Empire... but your death, isn't for me to decide. For I have other responsibilities - namely saving the Emperor' people," spoke Alexius, before turning around and walking away. Leaving the Archon, surrounded by several hundred angry citizens.

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23:00 - Icarus Prime Central Time

Several hours later, as more static defenses were built the smell of Vespen blood was still in the air. As the Grandmasters of Armaments, was having most of her Chapter busy and working. Namely they were in the process of keeping the people of Icarus Prime from starving and freezing.

With the supply stores empty and with no way to buy it in from neighbouring systems - they had to make due with what they have. Until the EoM bureaucracy could coordinate and send a decent convoy to re-supply and rebuild Icarus Prime' destroyed infrastructure.

In the meantime, they had to make due with what they had on the planet - which wasn't much. Since allowing civilians back into their homes was a big negative - since the Repulsor Fields were down, the Vespen could attack and nobody was eager to try their luck. The EoM ships in-orbit didn't have enough room to haul everyone away nor the supplies onboard to feed them all.

As such, the task of Icarus Prime' future well into the hands of the Icarus Order - whom took the route they had lived for three centuries. Namely making due with what they had and currently they had a lot of beasts to work with. As it was the Chapter of Armaments was busy carving up the thousands of dead Vespen for their meats and their hides - food and cloaks for warmth.

Several people could take shelter inside the buildings and shops in Citadel-One, but many more would be forced to sleeping outside - with the elements. While Icarus Prime was a warm planet, temperatures could easily drop at night. While the Order wasn't affected by it, the average citizens was.

Such was the case, that the two arms of the Empire were working in unison to keep the Emperor' servants safe and secure. The EoM would try and keep the people warm by providing or building tents or temporary huts for them. While the Order handled the food issue - namely thousands of dead Vespen were skinned and their hides turned into cloaks. While their meat was processed into edible food.

Some might grumble as it was a long fall away from living in a luxurious flat and not eating processed xeno meat. One was a family of three - a man, woman and their young daughter.

"By the Emperor. I hope those xeno filth, were eaten, shredded and left to bleed for days!" cursed the father, his cloak wrapped around his body - formely the skin of a Vespen Shredder. "I am sick of being like this. Living like some xeno."

"Honey, be calm. Atleast we are alive, warm and not dead. Or being eaten by those beasts," replied the mother, a similar cloak around her body - slightly larger as it covered her and her daughter. "Our daughter lives as well. Soon the Emperor's forces will restore order and we can return to our home."

"Agh. Why couldn't they go now?" he replied, stewing in his own hate - before all three of the family looked up and saw the forms of two Order Knights stopping infront of them - amongst the several dozens whom were keeping order between the citizens and not allowing their situation to develop into a riot or allow conflict or infighting to start breeding. One carrying a datapad and the other several tinfoil wrapped packages. One of them marked something down on their datapad, while the other crouched down and handed all three of them, the tinfoil wrapped packages - all of which were very warm. Once the two left, the family unwrapped the packages and saw the steaming pile of cooked Vespen meat, mixed with some red spices. "What kind of food is this? Xeno meat?"

"Better than starving. Or allowing our child to starve," replied the mother.

The daughter didn't mind much, as she had been hungry for awhile now and the meat smelled delicious. Without further thinking she bit down and took a chunk out of the cooked Vespen meat. It tasted rather good, if spicy at that - but the Order had learned to fight, skin and cook Vespen meat for centuries now - so they had developed certain ways to make Vespen meat taste good. Plus it was a rather symbolic payback - as the citizens were eating those, whom wanted to eat them just hours ago. One where even the youngest could take part.

A large cargo convoy droped out of FTL on the edge of the Gargan system, its modest escort of frigates spreading out around the four freighters. "Keep an eye out boys, Nasty pirates 'round here" said Savos, leader of the convoy. He toggles several parts of the communication relay preparing to light his beacon and call for Imperial Navy escort to the planet when his HUD lit up with proximity alarms, FTL signatures, and hostile entities. "what the...." he muttered as he studied his sensors before he realized what ships where around him. A Gargan heavy battlecruiser had droped from FTL almost on top of them with a dozen light destroyers with it. Unfortunately one of the destoryers suddenly occupied the same space as one of the escort frigates, rendering both ships useless.

"Transport convoy, surrender your ships and cargo or your lives are forfit" said the Gargan commander casually, confident when his ships had the convoy and their escorts totally out numbered and out classed. Savos cursed the Gargan and lit his distress beacon. "Imperial Navy! This is captain Savos of the Atlas Trasport #4-1-2-4-6-2-Alpha-2-0. We are under attack by Gargan Pirates! I repeat, We are under att-......--Static--" The heavy battlecruiser had seen this coming and had already powered up its rails. It sent a volley into the cockpit of the first transport, a dozen railgun slugs tearing through the transport. His destroyers took the hint from the first volley and began taking down the fighter escorts. With the escorts being outclassed it took only a few moments before they where drifting wreckage.

"Transport convoy, surrender your ships and cargo or your lives are forfit" the commander repeated with no change in tone. This time the surviving two cargo ships complied and launched their crews into small transport shuttles used to ferry cargo and personnel from docks to the ship and burned towards the Naval dockyard, distress beacon lit. Only a minute later, while the navy patrols where more than 10 minutes out, several imperial cargo ships with Blood Raider emblems painted over the Imperial decals arrived they quickly took control of the two intact ships and began hauling valuables from the crippled cargo ship, the operation going quickly with practiced speed. In eight minutes the entire fleet, including captured transports had turned and launched into FTL leaving nothing but scattered wrecks and a stripped transport. The whole thing happened in less than 15 minutes, tiny gaps in the naval patrols that the Gargan kept exploiting with impossible ease and regularity.

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Governor Ohr'sah glanced through news reports while sipping a Gargan version of coffee, a green sludge that humans find absolutely repugnant, but is considered quite good by the Gargan. He noticed several "incidents" that boiled down to xenophobic humans and frustrated gargan getting into a drunken brawl, nothing out of the ordinary which was a relief. He took another sip as he noticed a bullitin about a gargan resistance gang, little more than criminal thugs who recruit with resistance propaganda, who had managed to find and repair an old suit of power armor and use it to cause some havoc in the city streets. Several EOM soldiers where killed trying to bring it down, and several more where killed when it self destructed, detonating its fusion core. That was way out of the ordinary... He was thankful it was a known gang that had no significant ties to the actual resistance and he hoped it would be chalked up to bad luck and criminal activity and more importantly not related to him in any way. regardless it would make his life more complicated for the next week or two, The Empire would try to tighten its grasp. People would get angry, brawls or small riots would happen the cycle would feed itself for a month or two before quieting back down. Always seemed to happen once or twice a year, this time it happened early and with more of a spark.

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Miltant prime stood close to the massive view screen on the bridge of The Forsaken super-carrier observing his little pirate base. The teatherd asteroids being slowly stripped down into useful metal and building the little cruisers and frigates that made up his pirate fleet. His carrier and Battleships floated near the station in standby. One of the heavy battle cruisers being used as the pirate's flagship, at least thats the biggest ship the Imperial Navy thought they had. none of the rest of the fleet had been seen in over 200 years. Except for the Grand Battleship, it was used once to scare off an Imperial Navy patrol but that was nearly 60 years ago. from what he understood that story had become more of a joke or ghost story than a reality.

Chapter 1: We Remember

Planet Ram

Mount Tamir is the home of the last clans that evaded the capture of the EOM. Surrounded by dense swamps full of feral beasts, pits with no end and a mountain known for being a natural fortress. The slavers that inhabits the conquered planet of Ram avoids it entirely as taking it would be too costly, arguing that with no farmable lands near the remaining Rarians would just starve inside their unconquerable mountain. But what they didn't know was that inside the formidable mountain history was being made.

Inside the mountain two of the largest clans are fighting for complete control of the destiny of the Rarians. The Iron Fists led by Karduke Dragon Fist versus Timar the Savage leader of the Dark Furs. Soon the mountain itself became the battlefield as the battle rages on for this battle will decide the destiny of the Rarians, as Timar plans to hide the clans inside the impenetrable mountain a coward’s plan but will insure that the Rarians survival while Karduke encourages the ideas and the traditions of old, War with the weak.

The various clans under the Iron fist and the Dark furs clash upon each other with steel and savagery. Decapitating, Crushing, Cutting, and Slashing against one another soon painting the walls with crimson red. Evenly matched the casualties starts to rise between the two clans, until that is a narrow opening presented itself to Karduke and like a raging bull he charged into the chaos confronting Timar for the last time.

“TIMAR LETS END THIS” He yells out charging into him like a mad bull, ignoring the others that failed to maintain the front-line watching helplessly as he crashes into their leader unopposed and with this the battle was over for this meant only one thing a duel between legends fighting for the next step, both known for being legends, with feats known throughout the Rarians old and young, Scars earned through battles with odds that would make a lesser Rarian run away in fear.

Facing armies with a handful of brothers, ending wars, changing history, these two are worthy leaders any Rarian would follow to the battlefield or to the afterlife, to prosperity or destruction, to conquest or annihilation, to victory or defeat, to chaos or order, and to history or to dust.

With a loud thud Timar catches both of Kardukes horns desperately stopping his brutal charge. “TRAITOR.” Karduke yells out with murderous rage filling the caverns of the mighty mountain “YOU ARE A COWARD” He continues with the same ferocity piercing the ear of any who aren't prepared. To hear his mighty roar trying his all to break free of Timar’s iron grip.

“YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND MY FRIEND WE ARE FEW AND WEAK. ATTACKING THE EOM WILL SEAL OUR RACE FATE FOREVER.” Timar answers matching his volume as he throws him to the side taking out his sword from his sheath, walking to the downed warrior “IF YOU LEAD THEN WE WILL BE NO MORE, FRIEND OR NOT I CAN’T LET YOU DO THAT” He yells out announcing to the others as if he was already victorious before drove he drove his sword down towards Karduke closing his eyes as this was once his best friend “Good bye my friend” He whisper as he bury his sword into Karduke’s guts.

“I WON’T DIE THAT EASILY.” Karduke yells out catching the veteran off guard and with no time to react Karduke grabs his head, unwounded as the sword slides away as it didn’t penetrate the thick armor plating that now serves as his body, leaving only a small scratch mark “I have lost” He whispers happily to Karduke “If it’s you then maybe we might have a chance to free our people from this accursed weakness” He continues waiting for Karduke to finish him off “Let them know that we remember” He finishes his final words and with no regret he closes his eyes before Karduke finally crushes his head.

“May you prove yourself to the dragons above old friend.” He whispers to the lifeless before dropping the deceased veteran body to the piles of bodies that liter the cavern, and with this action the battle for the Rarians fate was over, and soon cheers replaces the war cries that once dominated the caverns as once enemies dropped their weapon welcoming the other side as brothers for they are now united under one clan and united in fate they will show everyone weak or strong that they remember.

“READY YOURSELVES FOR WE SHALL SHOW EVERYONE THAT WE REMEMBER!” He pridefully announces raising his iconic iron hand fist, as this victory means that the Rarians are done hiding and soon they will take the fight to everyone and with the legendary Karduke as their new dragon lord their counterattack will be legendary.

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Chapter 1: Setting up

Tarisa the industrial capital of ram, filled with machinery and steel, this industrial city was once the proud capital city of Sararis, but now functions as the headquarters of the slavers. Functioning as both a prison and a industrial complex, Tarisa is filled with Rarians, Slaves, Prisoners of war and other EOM criminals primary as labor force to power and operate the complicated machinery thats makes up most of the city. to work and to die inside the walls of Tarisa.

The city due to its harsh conditions and treatment has had a long history of bloodshed and rebellions, and due to this long history of conflict the guards are all well equipped and well trained in case of a large scale rebellion occurs. As the first signs of rebellions are felt the vast automated defense turrets systems around and on top of the city starts to activate and once activated it starts to scan the city in all times in for any hostile or defiant act towards a slaver not hesitating to fire upon civilian or infrastructure that stands in its way.

As the city's defenses can quickly discourage any form of rebellion against the slavers, there has been some talks of an rebel cell operating inside the city limits calling themselves the hidden dagger, Though the slavers firmly believes that the little rebellion cell is nothing more than a small gang of misfits, and wouldn't in any way post a threat to them inside their city they continue on towards daily lives, but what they don’t know is that it was growing.

The Hidden dagger as of now is weak and armless but it had a leader, a competent one and with her guidance it was becoming a threat to the slavers but the thing that makes it deadlier was the fact that it was allowing the other races to join them human or not and because of this the hidden dagger is becoming smarter and adaptive.

Inside a small craved out underground room, under a small tavern famously known as the "Nana's Stop" a small war council was being held, consisting of the leaders of the hidden daggers, “We need weapons.” A male humans with short red hair speaks getting right into the issue in an irritated voice and tone.

“What of weapons if we can’t feed our people” A tall rabbit morph speaks responding with the same tone as the red hair man before placing a handful of black colored carrots in the table "We are running out of food" He continues with a worried tone "The slavers are slowly poisoning us..." He continues with his concerns "This is why we need weapons in the first place so that we can protect ourselves" the red haired man interrupts him and soon the two starts to argue with one another and soon cutting the council in half between getting food or weapons and within seconds everyone starts arguing.

“QUIET!” Luke yells out slamming both of his palms at the table causing the others to look to him “Lulu is going to speak.” He follows up but with a calmer voice as he points at Lulu a rabbit morph that is recognized as the leader of the hidden daggers “Thanks Luke.” She thanks Luke for bringing order back to the council and soon Lulu takes her seat ready to answer the councils concerns.

“So what now” the red-haired man impatiently says “We grow.” She answers calmly "Grow!?" He asks puzzled and confused "what do you mean grow we are starving and every moment we waste our time here the stronger the slavers get while we sit here doing nothing but sit around and wait." He argues annoyed and above all else irritated "The slavers are poisoning us making us weak and hungry." The tall rabbit morph adds getting two additional black carrot in his worn out pockets "The supplies we have left we will be back to eating the dead once more." he continues as he finishes voicing his concerns waiting now for her judgment.

"We do need weapons and food supplies that we need for our organization to grow but we cannot risk endangering the rebellion, So I need you Robin to find out how to get our weapons but keep low and avoid fighting the slavers at all cost, anything that we can use for a weapon is welcome" She says to the man and with a small nod she turns to the rabbit morph "Teo I need you to find potential buildings that we can use to hide our supplies one for food and another for our weapons" She commands the rabbits morph after receiving a nod she then turns to her second in command Luke "I need you Luke to investigate the slavers and what they doing with our food." She orders Luke and with that she ends the council with this sentence "Keep low and stay away from trouble and all that haven't receive a order you follow through with the original plan and that is to recruit, now go." She says as they went up to the tavern and finally separate with one another.

@Pyromaniacwolf

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Mordenia
Underground city of Draum
14:27 - Mordenia Imperial Time

"All citizens of Draum, this is an emergency broadcast. Due to a failure in the filtration system, highly toxic gases have poisoned the air inside the city. Equip yourself with your standard issue gas masks and head towards the nearest evacuation point. If you have no gas mask, then put a wet piece of cloth in front of your mouth and nose, and find the nearest EOM representative that will give you protection equipment." The loudspeaker blared on top of the flatbed truck, and as the truck slowly hovered forwards on the road, dozens of humans ing as mask filled the streets, all heading towards a massive concrete tower in the distance lit by reflectors. Elevators that run straight to the subterranean train stations that will transport the citizens to safe zones. The lucky ones have enough money to go on a vacation until they can come back to their homes. The unlucky ones will stay in visitor centers until all issue are resolved. And there are those who will never leave their homes again. If they didn't wake up to the sound of the speakers then they were already dead.

There were 3 soldiers on the back of the truck along with two large grey boxes that had no markings on them. The truck hovered 3 feet above the ground, and people were swarming to it from all sides. They raised their hands to the soldiers in armor, their faces filled with fear. Two of the soldiers kept reaching into the boxes and pulling out small black packs that they gave to each hand in the air. One for every hand. Small MRE packs so that the people wouldn't starve to death before they get to safety. Some bowed their heads when thy got their food, others scurried away as fast as they could, holding onto the small packs like their life depended on it. The last soldier was on the back of the truck, and kept the people from climbing onto the truck. It took at least 20 people who were shot by gel bullets for the crowd to realise that the soldiers weren't kidding, and most of the gave up on the hopes of an easy ride. A few stranglers here and there would try to climb even after this, but they would all learn their place after getting shot with the gel.

"Hey Jimmy, you think this is ever going to end?" One of the soldiers who was handing out food looked at the soldier at the back. "Damned if I know. I'm more worried if we can make it outta here in time. These suits are great and all, but you can't trust this standard issue garbage to filter anything." A moment of silence befell the comm channels. Jimmy went back to handing out MRE packs, and the soldier at the back touched the side of his helmet twice. Inside the helmet, the HUD zoomed in on the picture that it was showing to the operator. The long road continued for a few hundred meters, but the people started to disappear from the street not more than 70 meters behind the truck. It seemed like everyone was following the herd and the truck. "Don't worry about that Jim boy. I doubt we'll be here for more than an hour."

20 Minutes later...

As the end of the crowd approached, the truck was gaining momentum. Instead of the crawlig speed that used to travel at it was now travelling slightly below the walking speed of everyone else. They made good progress and it seemed like another 20 minutes woud get them and everyone else in the street to safety. The number of people who were still waiting for their MRE was almost countable, and it didn't look like more poeple would be joining them. A few minutes ago 2 people came out of a house as the truck was passing by and pushed themselves through to the crowd to get the truck. They had no gas masks on, and they were quickly pulled onto the truck. They were given a quick medical check and then a pair of gas masks before the soldiers let them go. If it toom them this long to get out, they might need medical attention, but the pair insisted that they were fine.

After most of the crowd has already passed by them, Frederick sat down on the very back of the truck, and watched the last of the people head for the truck. No more than 20 if he counted right. Of course he could always check with the HUD but that took all the fun away. And as he was looking at all the poeple he noticed a strange sight. A humanoid looking xeno that was just slightly taller than the other people around him was trying to disappear from sight. He bent down, and tried to hind behind the person in front of him, but he didn't do a good job of it. Fred just laughed and waved for the xeno. He stood up and pointed at him again, this time making sure that he gets the message. After seeing that he was busted, the walked past a few people. They looked at him with anger, but they didn't do anything when a soldier was watching. "Hey Jimmy check this out. I've got a guest coming your way." Jim looked towards the back of the truck and saw the xeno coming towards him. He tapped his helmets visor and it became transparent, his disgusted face shwoing through the glass, his voice crackling through the speakers. "You won't get any. Now scram." The xeno stopped in his step, and watched as Jim gave another MRE to the a human.

Fred beckoned him over, and pulled the xeno up on the back of the truck. Jim and Sam both looked back in unison, as they heard the thump. "Fred you can't be doing this. The truck is for soldier's only, and you know it." Sam spoke up for the first time since they left HQ. His voice sounded more sad, unlike Jim who spoke up next. "Fred what the heck are you doing. This is just a filthy Xeno, you can't bring it on the truck." He stood up and took a step towards Fred and the xeno, but the comms came to life again. This time it was on a private channel to Jim. He checked the source: it was their driver/squad leader. "Jim, let that xeno stay onboard. If you fuck this up for the guys at PR I'll make sure you won't get your filters swapped next time we go on a mission."

"Good decision Jim." Fred smiled as he saw the anger on the other's face. "This dude here is a Kuah. They are from the same planet as me, and they are really nice people. Couldn't stand being a douce to 'em, thats why I left to this hellhole." Fred grabbed an MRE pack and handed it to the Kuah. It nodded and quickly consumed the contents of the pack. Fred just smiled as he watched in silence. Lucky bastards could literally breath nerve poison and would still be fine. "I'm Frederick by the way, but call me Fred. When did you come here?" A conversation in the back of the truck began, and the last of the humans were given their MRE packs. The only thing left to do was the long roadtrip back to the elevators.

---

Mordenia
Floating Governement Pantheon
21:48 - Mordenia Imperial Time

Clouds of deadly gases swirled underfoot as the EOM's regional HQ graciously floated on top of the atmosphere, connected to the surface by multiple space elevators. Ships docked at the sation, carrying emergency supplies and ferrying people off-planet. The offices were filled with rumbling, and the administrative section had a mental breakdown as they had to deal with all the offical consquences of the catastrophe below. The servers decided to shut down for 30 minutes a few hours ago and they completely messed up the progress of everyone. The chaos was so thick in the air that one could butter a bread with it. The PR section was busy cutting footages to distribute to all the local news agencies. Multiple companies tried to reach the banking sector for a refund in property damage, and the phones never stopped ringing. The coffee ran out hours ago, and everyone was on the edge.

The soundproof door opened, and the sudden noises felt like an explosion in the quiet room. The governor turned away from the glass walls and looked at his secretary as she closed the door. "I sure hope you have good news for me. I've just about had enough of today." He walked to his desk and sat down in the armchair. "Sir, we have the offical report ready to be sent to the sector HQ. We have also managed to finish cutting the media broadcasts. The relocation of refugees is going slowly, but it seems like everyone who could leave the city already left."

The governor opened a bottle of whisky and poured some into a glass. "Good. We mustn't show any weakness. I hope that the Militia is taking the necessary precautions needed in a situation like this." He took a sip from the beverage. "These xeno scum think they can commit a terrorist attack of uch scale and then hide behind the skirts of the governement for support. I will show them that we are not to be fucked with."

"Sir, I also received a message from the Marine corps HQ. They say that they have a task force in the neighbouring sector which could be here within a day to help with the situation if they are needed." The governor looked up from his drink in surprise, but then calmed dwn with another sip from his glass. "Tell them to standby if we do need them. I don't think we quite need the Military for such a task. The Militia can do just fine against these barbaric xenos. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some important calls to make. Come back to me when more progress is made." The secretary nod and left the room. The governor reached for his phone and dialed a number. "Hello? Yes, please patch me through to Militianus Emily Gibs. Of course, I'll hold."

Relica Surface
Mountain Cloister of Etheain, Meditation Chamber
21:02 - Relica Central Time

“Now lift the rock.” Demanded a human scientist. Once again, Talzoran reached out with mind and body towards the prayer stones standing in the middle of the meditation hall. Those massive rocks, untouched except for ages of weathering time, slowly rose from the ground as they were imbued with a combination of super-conductivity and psionic influence. Which manifested in a blue, glowing light around the rock. Harmless sparks connected the ground to the floating stone. All around him human scientists were tapping along on keys, monitoring his brainwaves and vitals in an attempt to find a key. A key to Geomancy, the sacred art of the Mountain.

But Talzoran knew they’d never uncover the truth if they did not simply reach out as well. Or maybe they couldn’t. He did not know whether or not the humans could tap the Higher Powers. But alas, he was a slave to their every whim. And when they said lift, he had to life. It was a life he chose only a century ago. As a Scholar-Warrior, he was still allowed to join certain sub-orders. If he agreed to the imprisonment. After many years he gained adequate skill in the art. Yet still, the humans could and would not comprehend.

One shook his head and Talzoran was allowed to lower the rock once more. Those ancient rocks stood in the chamber of meditation for eons now. The room dated back almost as long. There were no light made by the Relicants inside. Only the buzzing lamps the humans brought in. High up the mountain the Geomancers had carved their windows in such a way that the sun would light the room the entire day. “Tell me, Talzoran, how is it that we cannot pinpoint your psionic focal point?” a curious human asked. A female that only recently graduated from what humans called: university. Unlike most researchers, she wasn’t beaten down by little funding and even less success in their research. She seemed far more driven in uncovering the truths of the Relicants. In a strange way, Talzoran envied her novelty to their world.

“You humans, you always look at your screen. At your digital waves and motions. For some reason or another, you do not perceive the world as we do. You lack… insight. For a lack of better words.” But Talzoran was tired and was allowed to leave. Letting the human scientist ponder on his question. His feelings were dual. Relicants have perfected their craft, or so they assumed. But the interaction with the human scientists and their lack of perspective made him question his own species’ doctrine. Could they benefit from a different view? However, the open minded thinking swiftly got shattered when another human approached the female researcher. “Stay away from the Xeno, Tali. They can mess with your brain. Make you think things.” Talzoran let out a tired sigh. All the prejudice. All the wrongful thought. Talzoran never maimed or harmed anyone. Unlike some other, less “manageable” Geomancers.

Alas, the Relicant was awoken from his thoughts when he heard a loud explosion outside. Suddenly a group of EoM soldiers passed him, running towards the main entrance. He followed them, curious what all the commotion was about. Did a test go wrong? The humans took a side-door of the great Temple-Door and closed it behind them. Outside, the sounds got louder and harsher. After a while, Talzoran started recognizing the eerily sound. Gunshots. He took a step back as blood drew away from his face. An attack? On their Monastery?

From behind him, wise and venerable Master Torgah appeared. An ancient being, even according to Relicant terms. He may have been a master but he swore true to the Geomancers and mastered their art like none ever had. “Master Torgah!” Talzoran approached his master. “Master Torgah! We are being attacked! Outside! The humans are shooting something!” But the master only let out a sigh of relief. After an eerie pause he merely said: “Reckoning. Finally.” The hall was filling with curious Geomancers and slightly unnerved human researchers.

With closed eyes, Master Torgah reached out through rock and stone outside. Sensing the presence of the resistance fighters. They were outnumbered and severally outgunned. As the tanks that had stood sentinel on the mountain-side fired their cover to pieces. “We shall help.” He eventually determined and tapped the ground below him. The very rock shook slightly with a wave of power.

“The old priest! He’s going to do something!” Yelled one of the researchers. Suddenly all humans drew needles or any tool that could be used to attack. But they were swiftly blocked by a band of Geomancers. "Reckoning.” They started to chant. First a few, then other Geomancers joined in. The halls echoed with the word. Yet Talzoran remained silent. He didn’t want reckoning. He didn’t want war. He never did. But the others didn’t care. They, quite clearly, did desire the bloodshed to start anew.

With mind and implant, the venerable Master reached out to the massive, granite doors that once opened to welcome new students to their ancient hold. The very foundation of the temple shock and churned. Swiftly 3 more Geomancers joined their master at lifting the doors. The massive, carved stone started glowing blue and sparks flew out into its frame. Absorbing the charge generated. Eventually Torgah pushed out and both doors flew out of their frame. Flying into the air. One crushed an entrenched group of EoM soldiers, the other tumbled down onto a tank, destroying it whole. Out from the dark hall the Geomancers marched. Some EoM soldiers had not yet realized what happened. Yet they were swiftly warned as the Geomancers started throwing their rocks from atop the stairs leading up to the Monastery. Master Torgah himself, aided by the 3 Geomancers, started their work at a tank whose turret started to turn. Before the hulking piece of metal could fire, it was pushed off the cliff towards its falling death.

The battle was a short one and rather brutal. Despite the element of attack, some Geomancers did pay with their lives. A painful blow to an already diminished Order. Yet they prevailed. Swiftly a Shadowstalker made his presence known before Master Torgah. “Follow us. We have a hide-out prepared. The resistance is alive.” This seemed to be enough for Master Torgah. Who, with his walking stick ready, prepared to move. But he was stopped by Talzoran. “Master! Master, forgive me but… what about the humans?”

Torgah looked up at the capture scientists. Some had fought and paid with their lives. Though some never seized weapons. “Prisoners. Take some prisoner. Maybe we can exchange them for other, renegade members of our Order. If not… well… that is a thought for another time.” And thus, with a heavy heart, Talzoran took it upon him to guide a few human prisoners from their ancient hold in the mountains. Among the prisoners marched Tali, with equal dread and intrigue.

The Geomancers made sure to erase their traces through the mountains. When dropships from EoM did finally arrive, they only found their scientists, imprisoned in the Monastery.

@Legion02

---

Relica
High-Temple of the Seeder-Gods, High-Prophet Office
13:06 Relica Central Time

14 hours since Etheain accident.

The door slam open, and 6 marines in full power armor entered the room. They took positions on both sides of the door, their weapons at on their chest, ready to fire any time. Then a tall man in an Imperial uniform walked in, and the marines closes to the door closed it shut. The man approached the High-Prophet who was sitting behind his desk. As he reached the desk he pulled out a tiny terminal from his uniform which quickly unfolded intself into a full sized device. "Please to meet you Yuïn. Please, don't stand up, I won't be here for long. I am Militiantus Maximilian, and you might've heard of me as the man who is keeping this troublesome sector in check. I am terribly sorry we couldn't meet before, but as you know Relican space is filled with pirates, and I was preoccupied with chasing them down. I am glad to tell you that you won't be having problems like those lunatics anymore. As we are speaking the 203th and 417th fleet are taking positions in orbit, and joining up with the local garrison forces." Maximilian stopped for the effect, and sat down on the edge of the desk. He scrolled through a few pages of reports on his terminal and then stopped at a report that was relatively new. He tapped a few buttons on the screen, and the translucent glass turned back. He slid the terminal on the desk, right in front of the High-Prophet. A video was playing on the device: it showed the events that occured 14 hours ago on the mountain top of Etheain. The battle of the meditation chamber from the helmet visor of a soldier, which abruptly ended as a large rock smashed the camre into pieces. Then the picture switched to the 360 optics of a tank that fired 2 shells at the enemy before it was thrown down from the hill. Finally the picture settled on the footage that showed the betrayal of Master Torgha, a clip recorded by the retinal implant of a surviving scientist. It continued for a good 5 minutes from the perspective of the other scientists that also survived, and the screen always showed the same event.

"You must've been informed of this event long before I was. About10 hours ago I received an order from high comamnd to mobilize a task force and take orbital positions around Relica. You can understand that my forces are preoccupied most of the time, and joining forces with two fleets on different sides of a sector is a pretty time consuming task. But it wasn't until about 2 hours ago that I receieved the reason behind my mobilization: these, and many more video footages about the incident that involved Relican rebels." Maximilian sighed and shaked his head. He picked up his terminal from the desk, and started messing with it yet again. "I am sure you can understand that such event will only worsen the trust put into your species. And I can tell you, the high command is very displeased with this event. But I am not high command, I couldn't care less for a few tanks." The terminal switched to a Relican news channel, and showed news about a pirate attack somewhere in the sector. No casualties, and the pirates weren't caught. "What surprises me is that I found no record of this action in your logs. I took the time to search through your database for any information about the incident, but I found nothing. No sign of any public announcements, nor any steps taken to apprehaend the perpetrators. It seems like you are taking this incident very lightly. Especially in the light of more than two dozen EOM officals dead, and at least another dozen Relican rebel corpses that litter the mountain side." Maximilian slammed the terminal on the table in anger, and leaned towards Yuïn.

"You will sign this contract on the Terminal right now. Your governement will pay for any broken or lost equipment, for the stationing of the 3 fleets currently in orbit, and all the Militia members who will reside on the planet from this point on as peacekeepers. You will also agree to EOM officals questioning any person on the planet, including high ranking governement officals like you. You will also agree to EOM Militia members conducting a search in any properties in the case of suspicious activities, without the needing an approval. You will allow the EOM to monitor any signals entering or leaving the planet, and other communications inside settlements." The terminal layed silently on the desk, showing the contract to the High-Prophet. The Empire finally slapped them back for all the disgrace caused by the Relican people. It was nothing short of martial law, and it wasn't negotiable either. Maximilian put down a pen in front of Yuïn, the kind that you can use to sign contracts with on terminals. "You can take your time signing the document. We have all the time in the world."