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post924001.html#p924001 <=== OOB Here



System 44
The Maw
Loading Dock G-60-3

"Jesus! What is that?" Navigator Frees curses. What looks like a a wasp flies by, easily the size of a basketball.

"Waspform. It's a guard." Another crew member tells him. He looks bored, as if swarms of giant wasps are normal.

"Why? I though the Maw was one of the most crimefree stations in the sector!"

"They are not to keep others away, but to keep us in line."

"You have been doing this route for fifteen years! 'The Collective never forgets' they say, right?"

The unamed crewmen shakes his head slowly. "You don't get it do you? The Tchtter trust no one. No. One. The trade controller they sent to me talked on a first name basis, but I still had at least five guns pointed at me when the ship landed. They know that I mean no harm, but they will always refuse to let their security slip. Everyone gets guns pointed at them. It keeps us all in line."

"Why? The costs must be crazy!"

"They use their squishy tech, remember? No one knows how the upkeep costs are. For all we know, it could be cheaper to keep them on all the time... but either way the Tchtter don't care. They seem to live with it well. You know that none of the other traders even know how many systems the Tchtter own?" Frees looks confused.

"The Tchtter own hundreds of systems at at least. But every single one that has had sensor data was empty, except for this one. Also in each was a pissed-off patrol group of cruisers that boarded the ship that entered the system. They picket swarms of empty systems to keep others out. You know what happens when someone tries to colonize on those empty systems? An entire fleet pops into the system a few months later and erases the whole thing. Those damn Reaper drives mean that they can catch any ship short of the hyperlimit." The crewmen looks at the snub-nosed weapons turrets on the far hanger wall and sighs. "No one really understands the Tctter. Not enough at least. Now stop staring and help me move these freight dollies to the elevators."

Aboard OSSM Arkantos, in orbit above Magnus IV
Magnus System, Sector Three, Khorr Territory
0152 Hours (Military Standard Time)

"Private, I don't know where the hell we're going. All I know is that we're going somewhere."

PFC Darros "Dar" Ordil sat in the Poseidon's bay with one leg sprawled on the floor, and the other dangling out the open side hatch, head resting on the bulkhead. His eyes were closed, but his foot was tapping to an unheard melody playing in his head. Three deep scars lined his face, running from the top of his left brow to the bottom of his chin. His lips were pursed in annoyance.

"But Sarge, can't you at least get something out of the boys upstairs?"

Receiving no answer, he tapped his radio once and turned the volume up a bit.

"Sarge."

"I'm working on it."

The booming voice startled Dar up, and he quickly turned the radio back down. Taking a deep breath, he leaned back down, closing his eyes once more.

"They won't tell me anything. Just that we've been reassigned."

Darros's right brow raised.

"Reassigned? Where?"

A second of pause.

"Don't know. But we're leaving soon."

The Sergeant's voice sounded...hesitant. Not afraid, but weary.

"We? As in...the ship?"

There was another second of static.

"No. Us."

---

Aboard OSFC Mephos, in orbit around Elkas
Turilos System, Sector Five, Tanu Territory
1451 Hours (Military Standard Time)

A whistle emanated from the headset within the environmentally-sealed helmet, reverberating and making the sound a bit louder than it needed to be. Mentally ordering the suit to turn the volume down a bit, the man received the small, cool beep to indicate that the suit acknowledged the order. Just in time, because a voice came through the speakers just as the volume was turned down.

"Oi, Gaz. Look at all those stars."

The man, "Gaz", turned and gazed over the part of the sky the other suited man was pointing to. Gaz's breath escaped his lungs slowly, softly, as he looked upon the twinkling beacons of light.

"Yeah."

That was all he managed to say. That was all that needed to be said.

"Alright, you two. Back inside. We need to check in with TACCOM."

Sighing heavily, Gaz and Stoke made their way back inside the small freighter, closing and locking the exit hatch behind them. Hearing the pressure chamber stabilize and repressure, the two men unsealed their helmets and took them off.

"Why do we even need to check in, anyway? They know we're hee."

Stoke loved complaining.

"Because we're getting new orders. A new strike team is being formed, apparently."

Captain Markai Khorr motioned to the two men for them to hurry up, and strode back into the cockpit. It was a small freighter, and there wasn't much to it other than the cockpit and cargo bay. But it was perfect for their uses. No one took notice of a small freighter that was just passing through.

"A new strike team? Why? Are we..."

Gaz looked from the Captain to Stoke, then back.

"I don't know."

The Captain was silent for a few moments, then turned to the control console and punched in the slip coordinates.

"Sit down, lads. We're cycling up."

---

>/NEW DIRECTIVE
>/LOADING...
...
>/LOADED.

>>OPS Heracles - OPS Pherakoi - OPS Kerata - OPS Atanaphos // Redirect // Sector One
>>Cerberus Twelve - Cerberus Five // Redirect // Sector One
>>A162 - A347 - A712 - B231 - B713 // Redirect // Sector One

Deutchlieg. 1534 hours, local time.

The chairman entered the room, sat down, took his cup filled it up with a yellow liquid and added what looked like brown sugar, stirred it for a moment and then blew to it and looked at the other men who were present in the room.
There was the High-Commissar, Cedric Kluuker, and High-Ambassador, Alex Burg, whom he had called together to talk about the latest new that had reached his ears.
"Gentlemen, I have been informed that our current invasion of the planet Mada'Hugster, is coming to a close and victory will be ours. Mr. Burg, I would like you to come up with the policies for the prisoners of the former natives from the planet. I would like to have the report done in two days time, High-Commissar Kluuker, You are to assemble men who will be ruling the planet until i have appointed a suitable governor for the planet. As we all know this soon to be newly captured planet will mean that we, The Republic of Deutchlieg, will be in control of two hole systems, that will call for a celebration, and mourning time.
When the planet is captured, we will have a galactic festival that will celebrate the recovery of the Republic and we will have a long minute of silence for those soldier, sergeants, captains, and battle-commissars who has given their lives for the sake of the future of the Republic," the chairman stated and the men nodded and then the High-Embassador raised his hand to add some facts.
"Also, honorable chairman, I would like to remind you that this soon to be captured planet contains a lot of new raw materials for our galactic Republic, and it will help to tell the people that those who sacrificed their lives didn't do so in vain, far from it," Alex Burg said.

The meeting ended and the three men went back to their daily work.

---

Planet Mada'Hugster. Day 105 AI (After Invasion).

Sergeant Harry ducked below as the sound of gun fire being returned could be seen, like small tennis balls flaying above his helmet. The invasion had been successful, the Lightening Mobility strategy had been a major success, the Death Korps had taken minor rolls from the invasion as the natives weren't as advanced as some of the previous planets that Harry had been on.
The last pockets of resistance was based in the last large city, which was now being bombarded back in time, way past the stone age by now. The basilisks had done their jobs nicely and had used their Grounder shells and caused all the walls, buildings, and anything else which stood tall, to be razed to the ground in a matter of shots, and now the last of the resistance had to be taken down, and that meant a charge at the ruins. It could end with losses, but it would be a cost that would be worth it.

"Get ready lads...fifteen seconds till we charge, get your bayonets out and attach them till your weapons...Five, four, three, two, one. Charge!" The captain called over the radio, which the soldiers had in their ears, Mobile Communication, or MC as the soldiers referred to them as.
The soldiers got up from the trenches they had dug and charged towards the city, the skies above them were flying with missiles as the war machines fired them off, and soon after the last of the missiles had been fired, Jets began to fly towards the city and opened their fire at the buildings.
The tanks came from the sides and smashed through the walls, quickly rounding up the last pockets of survivors in the center, and while the survivors tried to fight back the tanks from the sides, the infantry charged right into the side where they weren't looking...the side they had turned their blind eye to, and now they were being shot at from four different sides, the two sides where the tanks had come from, the infantry and the air where the helicopters and Jets were flying around.

After an hour and a half, the last of the the resistance had either been killed or surrendered.
The Commander/General gave orders that the prisoners were rounded up and all placed together in camps until the government gave further orders. The news of the victory was send back to Deutchlieg, for the great Chairman, and thanks for the close communication there was between the planets which the Republic of Deutchlieg had annexed, it would possibly only take half an hour for the news to reach the chairman, and the soldiers would return home as heroes, and that 1.5 million soldiers who had died during the war would be mourned over. The Deutchliegs were war like, true, but they didn't see their soldiers as meat for the grinders, no, they valued quality over quantity, trying to balance the two would be great and often ended with good victories for the Republic.

The planet was filled with raw materials. The army had claimed all the major parts of the world's resources for its own purposes, and now that their job was over, they would have the Battle-Tech Priests to start build areas where the Deutchliegs could populate and build Carbon Dioxide generators till the planet's resources had all been taken and the land turned into a massive metropolis.

---

Unknown Space Sector; 1967 hours, Deutchlieg time.

An Arm of Deutchlieg was flying through the empty vacuum of space. It was lost from the former invasion fleet, and since it wasn't within near of the Deutchlieg controlled sectors, it was impossible for it to regain any communication with any known civilization.
The ship contained 381'067 soldiers, 1'023 war vehicles and enough Jet Fighters fend off almost any attacks. They had brought almost another 100'000 Battle tech Priests to accompany the soldiers and 251'056 Tech Priests to maintain the ship.

It was a moving army, in a lack of other words, and it was lost. Having no idea of where to go, it flew aimlessly around in space. Whatever food it had on board had been strictly rationed between the hundred of thousands of mouths, and the fuel had been rationed as well, as space didn't have any friction it flew at a constant speed without the need of the engines working, and they were only tuned on when the Captain of the Ship ordered it to turn and head a different direction.

The ship had, miraculously and surprisingly, crossed the borders between the empty space between the Republic of Deutchlieg and had now entered the space of The Grand Republic of the Federated Planets and was nearing the planet "Planet Dreg".
Scans showed that it buzzed with 'intelligent' life, intelligent enough to perhaps be at the status of the Republic of Deutchlieg.

Captain Andrew Unlusu had ordered that a simple message was to be send down to whoever was the governor of the planet, so he could get contact with the natives and perhaps get some idea of where he was.
The message he send was simple:

From: Captain Andrew Unlusu, Captain of Arm of Deutchlieg vessel AF-056.
To:Governor of the Planet.
This is Captain Andrew Unlusu, from the Republic of Deutchlieg, my crew and I would like to enter a peaceful negociation as we, my crew, passengers, and myself are lost, far too distant from the Deutchlieg's Space Sectors.
We wish to undergo a peaceful negotiation where we, the crew and myself, can possibly gain access to where we are currently located, and if possible, we would like to gain access to fuel, as we are almost empty, and we would like to pay for it, however the only values we have with us are the local Deuths which are used in our home systems.

The message was send and the Captain eagerly awaited for a friendly response, for if there broke out a battle between the planet and his vessel, then he would be forced to enter a war state with a galactic Empire that he had no information on...it could be a minor planet compared to other planets the owners may have conquered, or it could be a small useless planet system, easy for the taking...so many variables could lead to disaster, so the Captain would try to approach with peace, not violence.

Alpha-One this is Bravo-Two. Come in Alpha-One.

Bravo-Two this is Alpha-One. Do you have sight of the target?

Bravo-Two here. Affirmative target is in sight. Priority one should be in sight soon.

A man exited his hover bike, he kept his helmet on as he approached the seemingly abandoned building in front of him. He knocked three times, waited a few seconds then tapped it again, this time only twice. A hatch slid open and the person on the other side eyed the figure for a second then shut the hatch again. From the other side of the door the unlocking of a variety of bolts, locks, and other devices was heard. "Ahh, right on time" said the mysterious man as he opened the door. The man in the helmet replied, "Of course you think I would be late for this? These are hard to come by and I would not risk you selling it to someone else." The mysterious man chuckled, "But of course, wait right here and I will have it for you." He went back inside but only for an instant. As he came back out he had with him a large trunk. "Here it is, top quality as I assured you." The man in the helmet was skeptical. "Open it first and then we will see about that." With that the mysterious man opened the trunk. Inside it lay a small spherical object. To an average person this object would mean little as it seemed common enough, but to the man it meant everything. "One Beta level data sphere. It contains quite high level government codes and encryptions." The helmet man eyed it greedily from behind his visor. With it he could keep tabs on any tracking the government was doing on his little "business". Only an Alpha level data sphere would have the data to listen in on everything, but Alpha level communications were reserved for high level military business, and unless his doings threatened the government itself to the point of near take over, he would not have to worry about that. Perhaps at a later date, but not now.

On my signal. Mark.

Suddenly a slight sound roared through the night. It sounded like a wasp flying through the air, but in an instant the Helmeted man no long had a helmet on. In fact he didn't even have a head. The other man just stood there, blood and brain matter on his face. He was in shock, though it mattered little when only a few seconds later Five Special Forces members had him on the ground and tied up.

Nice shot Alpha-One. Priority package is in custody. I repeat, Priority package is in custody. Proceed to the rendezvous point and get ready for extraction.

Roger Bravo-Two, proceeding to pick up point one.

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Aboard the FRPS Tartarus it was business as usual.

Captain nothing on the scanners.

The Captain looked to the Ensign, "Of course not, there never is, almost nothing can get past the mine fields with out getting blown back to its home world."

The Ensign responded "Of course sir, though I wouldn't mind finally seeing some action, all this sitting around is just so boring."

"Boring as it may be, battles mean war, and war means death and destruction. I for one prefer boring old piece over war any day."

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Meanwhile on Planet Dreg

"Sir! An unknown ship has entered the system!"

"What! How did it get past the mine field!"

"It looks as if it happened upon one of the trade routes."

"Damn it, have they made contact yet?"

"Sir, they are sending a transmission now."

From: Captain Andrew Unlusu, Captain of Arm of Deutchlieg vessel AF-056.
To:Governor of the Planet. wrote:This is Captain Andrew Unlusu, from the Republic of Deutchlieg, my crew and I would like to enter a peaceful negociation as we, my crew, passengers, and myself are lost, far too distant from the Deutchlieg's Space Sectors.
We wish to undergo a peaceful negotiation where we, the crew and myself, can possibly gain access to where we are currently located, and if possible, we would like to gain access to fuel, as we are almost empty, and we would like to pay for it, however the only values we have with us are the local Deuths which are used in our home systems.

The commander sighed, slightly relieved. For the moment it appeared that the ship was not there to attack, at this moment at least.

"Contact the ship, tell them to proceed to space station Zeta, and send them the coordinates. Make sure you send a ship to escort them as well.'

From Governor Skalrim, Planet Dreg
To Captain Andrew Unlusu wrote:Proceed to the space station at the following coordinates. After docking a representative will meet with you. The Battle Cruiser Tartarus will escort you.

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Back aboard the Tartarus

"Well boys it seems we get to do something after all. We get to escort a foreign ship to a space station." The captain chuckled, this wasn't exactly what most of the crew thought of as 'action' but it was better than just sitting here."

Open space.
Random Cargo-ship.
0300 Military, 3 AM civilian.

CZHH. A buzzing came over the captains radio, followed by a voice. "Come in Freight-1. This is command, do you read?"

The man sat up, yawned, and pressed a button on his control center. "Command this is Freight-1, over."

"Freight-1, we are detecting multiple hostiles in your position. Can you confirm?"

"Command, this is Freight-1, our scanners aren't picking up anything, and I have no visual. I think your scanners are malfunctioning."

A few moments went by with no response.

"Coppy that, Freight-1. We just lost all signs of hostiles in your area, you're clear to proceed as usual."

"Coppy that, Freight-1 out."

---

Open space, after ambush.
Redemption class battlecruiser, Genesis.
0437 Military, 4:37 AM civilian.

"A successful raid, captain." One of the officers said as they gazed out the observation deck windows.

"Successful indeed." Said captain Steven Rozz. "Have we taken inventory?"

"Yes, sir. All expected goods have been accounted for and loaded into cargo bay D."

"Wonderful." Three Instinct gunboats soared by, headed for the hangar. "Prepare the jump to Port Royalty IV, we'll refuel and unload."

"Yes sir." The officer walked off to deliver the news to the central piloting deck.

Minutes later the ship and others around it powered their Reaper drives and seemingly disappeared, leaving the shell of an empty freighter behind.

The vaulting Exigent Gathering chamber high in the Imperial Palace on Faerin sparkled and shone. A legion of servants had spent hours whipping the dust sheets off the fine, ancient furniture, polishing and buffing until wood and gold glowed warmly and upholstery silks shimmered again in breathtaking colour and complexity.

The centrepiece of the chamber, beneath a heraldic ceiling bearing all the Great Houses’ coats of arms, was an enormous boardroom table, hewn from an enormous hunk of shimmerwood and polished to a mirror-brightness, the swirling, hypnotic patterns seeming to move under the high gloss.

Ornate metal chairs that were almost thrones were ranged around it, and papers were piled in orderly heaps in front of each.
As if on cue, the double doors – like everything in the Siridar Imperial Palace, a work of art, depicting the Flower Houses routing their enemies in the ancient days before space travel – were swung open by two footmen in rainbow Palace livery, admitting the most senior Siridar in the entirety of the Imperium into their private conference room.

The first through was a careworn, languid Siridar with deep violet wings. His elaborate robes and undercoat flashed with gold, the silk shimmering with rainbowed colour in fantastic patterns. He wore no crown, carried no sceptre or orb, but there was an indefinable air of power about him, a dense halo that throbbed around him

The others swiftly followed that single figure, and for a few moments the room was filled with the beating of ordered wings and the hushed rustle of silk on silk as the Lords and Ladies of the Great Houses of the Siridar Imperium seated themselves.

The first figure, seated now in the most thronelike of all the chairs at the head of the oval, reached out with one alabaster finger, slow and unhurried, and tapped a small silver bell held in an exquisite filigree.

A gentle, chiming carillon of notes rippled across the room and the Siridar quieted. “I call this Exigent Gathering of the Flower Lords of the Great Houses to order. Are we all present?” He took a breath.

“Lady Serelle Holly, Marquess of the Crown?” He nodded to a martial Siridar with bloodred wings and robes that were a waterfall of crimson. Dragons in golden thread ran rampant across the fabric.

“Lord Aurelius Foxglove, Viscount of Creation?” He smiled at the least formally-dressed of all the House Lords. The dar was easygoing and genial, everyone got on with Aurelius Foxglove, and the massive power of his Concorrant Industries only helped.

“Lord Elnath Hellebore, Duke of the Diadem?” An ill, pale Siridar inclined his head slowly towards the Emperor. His wings were a brilliant, hard white, but they looked awkward and wrong. Suspensor belts wrapped his gaunt form.

“Countess Indra Violet, Countess of Tarona, representing the interests of Violet House?”

A stately, aristocratic dar – of the type commonly called an Empire lady – smiled dazzlingly. “At your service, my Emperor, Lord Violet.”

The Emperor continued until all the Great Houses had been greeted. He tapped the bell again. “Meeting is now in session,” he announced, sounding laissez-faire and bored.He waved a hand; bronze statues holding up intricately-carved globes lit up suddenly and the vaulting ceiling faded to black; it was as if the Flower Lords now gazed up at the cosmos.

A flock of stars suddenly burned bright gold, a sprawling conglomeration of stellar systems sailing through the astral void. Each and every Lord recognized the familiar shape of the Imperium. Other significant powers the Imperium knew of began to burn in different colours, and the galaxy ignited before them.

“The galaxy in which we find ourselves,” said the Emperor, with a small smile. After all, there were few powers to rival the Imperium. A gesture, and golden lines crawled out of the Imperium cluster, heading for almost every other burning clump of stars. “Trade routes, the very lifeblood of our civilisation. Exporting art, antiques, machinery, missiles, foodstuffs, clothing, culture to every corner of the benighted galaxy.”

Lady Delphinion smiled; Siridar films, theatre, mechanikopera and many other artforms that were her House’s specialty were famed and known across the galaxy. Her sons were heavily involved in the trade; Irenaeus Delphinion was a household name across a million worlds.

“However.” Seras Violet pointed at a cluster, particularly large, that glowed bright green. “There is one power we have never been able to treat with. Tchtter.” He said the alien word with a short, sharp snap.

“This is unacceptable. We all know that influence is much more powerful than military might when applied in the right way, and to have such a large nation with no links to us cannot continue. Suggestions?”

“What do the Tchtter want?” asked Aurelius bluntly, spreading wide his hands. “Concorrant Industries can provide – at very reasonable prices, too.”

Indra Violet leaned forwards. “Reports are they’ve got organic tech. Perhaps they’d be interested in what we develop?”

“Could they make use of House Rose’s products?” asked Orion Rose, plump and jolly, waving a sweetie around airily.

“May I make the suggestion of sending out a Rubicon cruiser?” murmured Elnath Hellebore, having remained silent for much of the time. “Let us find out more about them before we start offering things. Giving insult unintentionally would not help our position.”

Seras Violet nodded. “Astute as always, your grace,” he said, scrupulously polite. “Does this have the support of the Flower Houses?” It was ritual and ceremony, nothing more – when a Violet was in power, the Imperium was in truth an absolute monarchy. Biobombs and the total annihilation of worlds saw to that. Violets who actually realised that fact were exceptionally dangerous. Seras Violet may have known, but he allowed no sign of it to slip from his laissez-faire mask and to the other Houses – he always consulted with them, and usually the Parliament of Stars as well, before he took action.

A low murmur of assent rolled around the room, and Seras nodded with a faint smile, making a note. Within the hour, the ministers and aides who ran the government according to the wishes of the Flowers would turn that little note into an iron-clad order to the Diplomatic Service’s flagship cruiser, the Rubicon Pale.

“Now, onto other matters, now I have you here. Lady Holly, Lord Hellebore. I have to raise the sorry issue of border contraventions between the Crown and the Diadem. Again. Now...”

---

On the very edge of system 44, space ripped and tore, and from the gaping rent in space-time shot an elegant Siridar cruiser. A precious-metal hull worked in intricate designs, glowing lovely-gravity nets that shone brightly against the blackness of space and a complete absence of offensive armaments told any observer exactly what this ship was – a Rubicon cruiser, one of the Siridar Diplomatic Service’s fleet of vessels. Two of the Imperium’s standard heavy cruisers accompanied it, but they were hardly necessary.

The Imperium had made it quite, quite clear that any assault on one of their diplomatic cruisers would be a declaration of war – and war with the Siridar, with their dreadnaught fleets and the utter terror of their methods of ‘civilising’ planets – was surely not high on anyone’s list of things to do.

The ship’s captain sighed at the return to normal space. “Open all standard hailing frequencies. Chances are they don’t use entangled quantum communications like us.”

“Channels open. Ready to transmit.”

Dawn Delphinion cleared his throat, shifting it into the rolling, near-hypnotic oratory that Delphinions were known for. “This is the Siridar Diplomatic Service Rubicon cruiser Rubicon Pale requesting audience with the Tchtter at their earliest convenience. I repeat...”

System 44
The Maw

The Tchtter relays in the leviathan station pick up the small cruiser easily. The immense intelligence called the Collective sends the nearest cruiser group within .3 seconds of detecting the stresses on normalspace. "The Collective hears. We will send an escort to your position to lead you to the Maw. They will arrive within the hour. Please do not move from your position until then. There will be a liason waiting when you enter the Maw." it replies to their message a few seconds later when it recieves the message from the Siridar.

Eight cruisers surround the trio of ships an hour later. They do not power their weapons, but their shields stay active. While the ships are on a diplomatic mission, doctrine is doctrine, and it says to treat all others as enemies until they prove otherwise. The ships all go towards the mammoth station at a leasuirly speed, to reduce stress on engines. They also allow the men and women in the Siridar ships to veiw the Maw in all its glory for another hour.

The Maw is a trading station like no other.The Tchtter allow other nations' ships to enter only a single system, System 44. Therefore it's single trading station must be apropriatly grand. It is created from a base of twenty massive asteroids. Not a single one is less than fifty kilometers across, for System 44 has huge asteriod belts. The rocks were shove into a loose lattice, three kilometers apart from each other. Then kilometer-wide tunnels were extruded to connect them. They are black and glossy, with bays all along them that glow gently from the lights within them. They have both massive blast doors and forcefields to keep the air in, but the doors are for emergencies only. It looks very much like a 3D spider's web. A century later, many other tunnels connect the tunnels to each other, and the originals have gotten larger. The Maw is a confusing array of massive rocks and tiny webs between them. Each rock is hollow, for both berthing space and warehouses. Many companies are allowed to run their services inside, making the inside look very much like any normal station.

The ships enter one of the outer bays, much larger than normal, built into one of the asteriods. They enter a place of blacks, greens, and reds, all under a dim overall glow. It is a bay blocked to normal traffic. The bay is used only for special Tchtter business or diplomats such as the Siridar. The Siridar will walk on a hard ground that seems very much like rock, less than an organic armor polymer it really is. There is a single man in a black robe that waits. He is not protected by any guards, for he does not need any. The bay's weapons could fry the cruisers in seconds. The man is tall, with a bulk that speaks of toned muscle. He has massice shoulders, more akin to a soldier than to a governemnt official.

"Welcome Siridar Diplomatic Service personnel. I am Kil. We have been expecting you. Please, come with me. Your crews can take leave in the station if they desire. We will not harm them or their ships. We are a very disciplined people you know." Kil says with a chuckle. His voice is two-toned: one a normal tone, and the other a bass buzz that is not at all like the human he vaguely resembles in the shadow of his hood, which is up on his head, hiding his face. He walks with a grace that speaks of immense agilty, again unlilke the scrawny dimplomat he should be. His idea of 'discipline' speaks of the rumors of survivors; the suicidal charges and walls of snarling flesh that charge into the guns of the Tchtter's enemies without a single waver. He waits at a small hallway off the side of the main bay doors, waiting for the diplomats to follow.

Drakor Cluster; Delton System, Bureau of War & Defense “The Great Rest” Boneyard

InterGalactic Holonews: LIVE

“Okay, thank you Jenn, we’ll get back to you in a second,” the news anchor turned to face the new camera angle they where shooting from, “sorry for the interuption, but we are now receaving word they are starting the celebration as they prepared to mothball the last ship of the infamous 8th fleet, we’ll go to our man in the field, Herold Gavvera.”

”Yes, thank you Nick, I’m standing here on the display deck of the Bureau’s “Rockefeller” station, behind me is the “Salvation”; flagship of the 8th fleet, last of the aged Galiga-class Dreadnaughts, it was during the Trade-Lane Wars that the 8th fleet made a name for them selves, and particularly during the Battle of Taana when the 8th fleet alone held off a force nearly five times it’s size, now the final ship is being mothballed.” Herold gestured behind him as the massive ship floated past, “Now this ship served in the Bureau for nearly two centuries, and has fought in several wars, but it really showed it’s stuff during the Battle of Taana; the people are here to say their final good byes to this legendary ship, most of them who filled their service either in her hold, or one of her fleet mates.”

”Can you tell me what kind of mood the crowd is in?”

”Yes, it’s a very solem, almost sorrowfull celebration, many of the veterans here have been brought to tears by the sight of the famous ship, many of them owe their lives to her and the service she brought to the Consortium,”

”What are the plans for this ship, and the remaining ships of the 8th fleet that are in storage?”

”Most the 8th fleet has been decommissioned, their resources salvaged, the few of the newer ships are still mothballed, but they too face the probability of being scrapped, but the “Salvation” could face a different fate, some are preparing a petition to preserve the “Salvation”, making her a museum, many of them are here amoung the crowd behind me.”

”Thank you Herold, what magnificent ship, sad to see it go; now, the Resource Markets have closed on a positive….”

Patiently, the Siridar waited in their ship as they were escorted towards a whirling conglomeration of asteroids linked by oddly organic-looking cables and conduits. The only order Dawn Delphinion gave during the time of their approach was to intensify power to the Rubicon Pale’s already-overclocked shields. Prudent caution, considering there were five cruisers training their weaponry on them.

As was standard practice for Siridar entering into new diplomatic relations, rather than emerging themselves, with all the possible dangers that could entail, the actual Siridar themselves remained cocooned in their vessels, and instead activated exquisite drone copies of themselves, projecting what they saw directly into their cortexes.

Only a deep scan would reveal that the drones had a core of heavy-metals; they served exceptionally well as ambassadors until the Siridar felt they could trust their partners enough to warrant a flesh-and-blood meeting.

The airlocks irised open; whatever the atmosphere was, or even if there was none, it made no difference to the drones, and they stepped out in magnificent array. Seeing the Tchtter who had greeted them far away, off in a small hallway, they leapt into the air, their wings hurling them forwards, alighting next to him.

The lead drone – an aristocratic Siridar with electric-blue wings – swept a courtly bow. “Dawn Delphinion, Duke of Calraiso and Captain of the Rubicon Pale, at your service.” He smiled, wide and white as his hypnotic tones rolled around the hall.

From Governor Skalrim, Planet Dreg
To Captain Andrew Unlusu wrote:Proceed to the space station at the following coordinates. After docking a representative will meet with you. The Battle Cruiser Tartarus will escort you.

Captain Andrew read the message and then frowned, "A bloody battle cruiser! Do they think we are idiots in Space Warfare?! They'll have us blown into pieces with that battleship, that's for sure!" the captain yelled as he read the message.
"They may simply take pre-cautions, like how the governors in our own systems would have done," the lieutenant reminded the captain, and the captain nodded, "True, but a battle ship is just signaling that they aren't as peaceful as we would like them to be,", "I'm merely suggesting that they are reacting the same way we would if a strange spaceship suddenly appeared at our doorsteps,"the lieutenant answered back to the captains' sneer.
"Supposing that they had managed to contact the governor by then...for if not, it would have been most likely that the Orbital canons were made ready, and fired while a fleet was send up in space and stress signals would have spammed the entire signals of the entire system.
Either way, we have the coordinates?"
"Certainly, sir," The lieutenant answered.
"Good, follow the battle ship then, keep fuel at a minimum usage however make sure that we won't move like worms through space," the captain ordered and the massive transportation ship was put into motion.

As the ship neared station, the docked and the captain send another message that the Captain, Lieutenant, and Battle-Commissar would leave the ship to talk with the governor, and that they would bring a minor force with them, for security reasons, as they were important members of the Deutchlieg Republic.

Andrew had been informed that the atmosphere outside was made out of oxygen and that the sun was most likely to shine to he took on a gas mask and very, very dark sunglasses to protect his sensitive eyes. the lieutenant was wearing the usual golden and red uniform, his gas mask was made out of metal, it was small and covered just his nose and mouth and his sunglasses were stylish, golden trim and red mirrors, the lieutenant made war look good. The Battle-Commissar was wearing a long leather coat, had minor medals hanging, his black hat had a small silver skull and his gas mask took up his entire face and the eye holes were covered with the same materials that the Captain had on his sunglasses.
The protection soldiers who come with them were six average soldiers, and one of the Eversor, the bodyguards of the Cultus Mechanicus Pope, he had been ordered by the Pope himself to accompany the vessel and be there when the victory happened, however when the captain discovered that they were lost he had gone crazy and demanded that he got them back on course, for elsehe would disappoint the Pope and that would mean a major blow to the man's undeniably strong faith...Andrew just hoped that the Eversor would behave while they would meet with the governor.

---

The main streets of Deutchlieg were filled with soldiers, tanks and more military equipment, showing the population the supreme military of the Deutchlieg Republic to its people, and they cheered, waving Deutchlieg's flag, and they all sang the national anthem as one as they shook hands with the passing soldiers or touched the plate armor of the tanks.
It was an impressive sight, even for Leo who had seened it over and over again, the people just continued to impress him with their enthusiasm and support for his actions.

Leo was getting ready to make his speech, which would be sharply followed by the Pope's speech, so he couldn't waste any time when he did this, he had to be spot on what he needed to tell the people. He stepped out, and he had bring his fingers up as the sheer volume of the single cheer that he was received by caused his ears to hurt. Soldiers, Commissars, Battle-Tech Priests, civilians, workers and politicians all stood side by side, looking with expecting eyes upon Leo.

"The people of Deutchlieg...And when I say "People" I mean you all, not just this planet, all the planets, all the systems that we control up till this date! I thank you, I thank you for your support, I thank you for your strong faith in the Machine Spirit, and I thank all of the soldiers who has for the past one hundred and five days set their life on the line for restoring our great nation back to what we were, and I repeat myself as I have done for the past two years...We are making progress my people, we, as a nation, are recovering from the former defeat we suffered.

I would like to thank all the captains, the Tech Priests, and all the Battle-Tech Priests for having willingly stood up for this, and for having risked their well being for the people's sake.
I would like to thank all the workers who has worked hard to produce the goods needed for this final push!"
There was a deafening roar and applause when Leo said that.
"However, with great victories comes great sacrifices. Through the Republics long campaigns to recover this nation we have lost millions of soldiers, thousands more has died due to exhaustion and starvation, but lets not see that as a negative thing. The soldiers who has sacrificed their lives for our cause and for our sake will be remembered, for those who died working in the factories shall be remembered for their strong enthusiasm and devotion to this republic and to the Machine Spirit!

I can say, loud and proudly, without shame, that; despite that fact we are still a shadow of what we were formerly. The spirit that has brought us this close to each other, not just as a nation, or a planet, but as a people, as a race, has never been stronger! Our trust in each other is almost as strong as our devotion to the Cultus Mehcanicus!"
Once again there was an enthusiastic applause from the crowd.

"I hereby declare that, on whichever planet or syetem you, a Deutchlieg citizen, are, you are to give a hole minute of silence in honor for these people who has given their lives and died with much glory and honor.
Shut down all factories and turn off all power till the minute has gone. There shall be total silence when we mourn for the lost ones."

Silence was rare amongst the Deutchliegs who were metropolis builders, who lived and always would live in massive cities, and now that they mourned over the lost soldiers and lost machines, everything would go silent through out the systems. There was no exceptions, even the hospitals were silent, and though it had a price of lives, the government to do so, it was a price they were willing to give in order to show all Deutchliegs that they still cared for it's people.

"Thank you, and may the Machine Spirit be kind upon the Deutchlieg Republic," Leo said softly after the minute had passed and then left.
The Pope was next to make his speech, and it sounded like Leo's however the Pope praised those who had operated the machines, the machines which had been destroyed during the war and thousands of battles.

Corewards Deuthlieg border, exact coordinates unknown

...This is the Imperium ACD "Herman the Third" hailing all Republic of Deuthlieg parties concerned. Please respond on associated frequency. I repeat, this is the Imperium ACD "Herman the Third" hailing Republic of Deuthleig parties concerned. Please respond on associated frequency. This Autonomous Contract Drones comes in the spirit of peace...

Sunlight from the neighboring yellow star reflected off Herman the Third's duranium casing. He, as per his hard-coded personality settings, blasted azure ionic radiation from one end of his cigar shaped body. The ion engines propelling him were safe behind a metallic grille; his other components were shrouded behind applique and disengaged force screens.

Herman ran loops through a sagging figure eight pattern while he waited. Each loop and each tick of his Brownian motion simulator brought the holding pattern more out of focus.

*When the most recent line of AC drone hulls was discovered to have a fatal manufacturing defect, they were melted down and the scheduled electronics were placed into mothballed border picket hulls.

Unknown Frequency wrote:...Imperium ACD "Herman the...Deuthlieg parties concerned....Repeat...Hailing Repub... Please respond o

The Deutchlieg soldier sat at the radio, fighting to get the correct frequency so they could hear the message, but it wasn't possible, the technology level of the ones who send the message and the Deutchlieg's level of technology, and the soldier made a copy of what he had and send it to the governor, on the Red Line.

The Red Line, were emergency messages that he had to read along with a brief report of what it was, and in this case, it was the possibility of an external invasion as they were being engaged by the 'Imperium ACD'.

The governor read the report and then lifted the phone, getting the local lieutenant on the line, "Lieutenant Jones. We have a situation. It seems that there is intelligent life at our borders. I will set the Terror Alert from level one to level four.
I want two Titanicus Metallicus sent into space, along with that, I demand that the entire fleet of Jet Fights to accompany them are send as well. I'll have stress signals send to Deutchlieg itself and have the Navy of Pride informed about the current situation.
Have your men prepare for possibly orbital invasion, and have the Anti-Orbital Tanks prepared for counter attacks and I wish to have messages ready to inform the people that we may be invaded and that they should seek out the lower levels of the city for refuge. Don't send the messages, just have the ready," the governor ordered and the lieutenant agreed and there were made a few phone calls and the entire planet's military was now aware that they had a possible alien invasion on their hands, and a message was transmitted through space, along the web of communication which the Republic of Deutchlieg had.

Within the hour, two Titanicus Metallicus were in space, accompanied by hundreds of thousands of Jet Fighters, and the communicators at the planet tried hard to get the correct frequency to communicate with the foreign aliens who had made contact with them.
They managed to get a close-to frequency, though they would only be able to give small messages to them.

From: Governor Charles.
To: Foreign Leader.
Safety blockade ahead. stop.Approach in peace. stop. Lieutenant Jones leader. stop. Come to Wilhelm II. stop. Governor greet you. stop. Negociate trade terms. stop. Meet Chairman later. stop. Please respond quickly. stop. Or disaster happen.stop. Lieutenant think danger. stop. Attack mean war. End

The men couldn't send anymore as the frequency drifted out of reach and the Lieutenant was given instructions that the aliens may approach in peace, though the slightest sign of hostility was to be met with the means of war.


"Captain Berkers. A message from the Governor of Planet Wilhelm II. He claims that he has been contacted by aliens, and so far, the massage they have received has been vague and they have little idea of if it is war or peace they want.
He has requested that you arrive for the sake of safety, and...Wait, the same message is arriving, but from the Chairman himself. It seems like you have to go now," the sailor reported.

Simona frowned, she hated it when everyone cried for help, as if the fleet wasn't good enough to fight on its own, but then again, alien arrives could be rather powerful, she knew that from the past when the Republic was invaded after they had stupidly invaded unknown territory, and now they didn't wish to make the same mistake as they had before.
"Set the destination for Planet Wilhelm II. Set the ship on high alert and inform other nearby planets of the possibly threat, and I want to have the Jet fighters from Woulfengard IV up here withing the hour, and then I want to be on our way," Simona ordered and the orders were sent out and the men arrived, along with Commissars, Shadow Assassins and more infantry soldiers.
Along the way, they were even joined by an Arm of Deutchlieg, which carried a legendary Bane-Blade on board, which meant that is the aliens were going to invade Wilhelm II, they would face some of the fiercest weapons that the Republic had to offer, and that would just be the start.


"Gentlemen, it is possible that an alien invasion can happen as we speak. I therefore order the terror alert to be placed on level four, throughout all of the sectors and solar systems we control.
As we speak, the Navy of Pride is on its way towards Planet Wilhelm II, accompanied by a single Bane-Blade, and millions of troops and thousands of Jet Fighters are preparing to come to the aid of the planet. If war does break out, we must prepare for the worst, and declare a galactic total war against these aliens. Remember, there will be shown no mercy, and we shall expect none if war breaks out.

If it is peace and trade they wish, then it shall be welcomed, and I will personally do the negotiations between the galactic nations, however, High-Commissar Cedric, you are to prepare anti-espionage, along with the possibility of sending in Shadow Assassins behind enemy lines to learn something of value," the chairman declared and then added, "Also, in order to avoid public stress, we will keep this threat secret amongst the governors, generals and lieutenants, no one else is to know of it, and as for the soldiers...Tell them it is a drill till we know for sure who and what we are up against."

The orders were sent out to all the sectors, sub-sectors, and all Solar systems' governors. The Cultus Mechanicus was informed that the possibility of war was about to happen, and they prepared for turning their productivity to more war centered, instead of internal centered.
The Republic of Deutchlieg was ready if a war broke out, and if it was all for the need of peace, it would be great though they would be suspicious of espionage and would counter that as well.