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The Hand of God - Deep Space - Standard hour: 1823

Darja had been on many exploratory missions with the Moaid fleet, but this was the largest military operation in ten years. Four Starclass I were all floating through space, magnetic technology had used a star in the outer rims of the Emperon Galaxy, to sling them into deep space.
The ships were filled with the Moaid forces, troops armed with conventional weapons such as bolters and small particle weapons. The Moaid fleet units were supplemented by a pair of cruisers, all of them powered by internal nuclear generators and controlled by potent EM-cores. Inside of the cruisers were the small production facilities which were commonly used to produce worker droids. These were however modified, not only service droids, but also combat droids were churned out by the dozens.
Small droids were continuously crawling around on the outer carapace of the ships, repairing minor damages and making sure that everything on the outside was well and good.

"Hourly scan has been performed. 3 previously unrecorded carbon-based lifeforms have been discovered in the captain's control room." The semi-intelligent computer, Arthi, said. Darja nearly jumped out of her skin, but quickly calmed herself. The security around the captain was very high, and the sensors were old, they could've had a minor malfunction. Something she'd make sure to point out to Arhet on her nightly visit...

"Message incoming from the Artuos. Rendering. Playing message."

"Commander Darja. This is Orunn speaking. We have just received a message from the Maunkee. It seems that they only want to half-heartedly join our great Stellarium. Thus I will need your help when you arrive at the Maunkee territory. As of now, I have sent Ethyls to take out the General of the fleet. One of them will take his place. Make sure that you destroy all evidence that they have been there.
When you yourself arrive at Maunkee territory, you are to act as the being that is Orunn. As of yet the Maunkee does not know that I have no body and no mortal soul.
You shall then by any means necesary convince them to open up their communications uplinks and networks to a "Logic Engine". I will be said Logic Engine, and I will invade their systems and take control of their computer controlled machines and their communications network. After that I shall send you more information as to your continued mission. Should you happen to succeed, then you will be greatly rewarded. Should you try and warn the Maunkee then you will be terminated by the Ethyls.
Godspeed Darja, Commander of 7th Escadrille.

Darja's eyes opened up wide when she heard the message. She hadn't just been promoted to Commander, she'd become a pawn in a much grander game. Her green skin convulsed with anger as she realised that she'd just said yes to the terms and conditions of her promotion. She'd not shown any particular skill, she'd just been there.
She clawed at her neck, trying to drive out the feelings of anger and instead focusing on what he'd ordered her to do. She was going to become Orunn.
Something similiar had been done previously, when a minor race of some sort had chosen to decline the offer of membership. The Moaid who'd played Orunn had had implements to make it more believable that he was Orunn. He'd been in pain till he passed away in a cell on the prison planet Yar'agul.
But how did she know this? She couldn't grasp everything as pictures of torment and white-clad special troops flashed before her eyes, before leaving her alone on the bridge again.

"Starclass I, The Hand of God. Loop the sensor clips from the last scan and delete all footage from the one of this hour." Darja said calmly, a hand on the palm of her head, trying to cool herself down from whatever was going on with her.

"Order confirmed. Footage has been deleted. Warning message has been terminated from ship archive."

The Dark Plague - Orbit around Tarros - Standard hour 6007

The Dark Plague was slowly drifting through space, around Tarros, like an extra moon. Calm on the surface, the ship almost seemed serene. If not for the fact that inside, a battle of life and death was being fought, as loyalists were fighting a group of separatists.
The battle had started when a purge against a nationalist gathering was dissipated by security troops on Tarros. It'd angered the seperatist rebels that their comrades had been scattered by the security troops, even though no civilians were hurt during the demonstration.

Until now the rebel cell onboard The Dark Plague had remained dormant, but the recent attacks on nationalism had angered them, and now they'd taken control of the lower decks of the ship, most Tarrians had joined them, feeling that it was their plight to help the rebels, as they scrupulously killed the other races onboard the ship.

"Message incoming from "The Harbinger". Rendering. Playing message."

"All rebels onboard The Dark Plague are hereby ordered to throw down their weapons. I repeat, the rebels are ordered to throw down their weapons and concede defeat. This is a direct order from Elay." A voice said over the ship's intercom. "You lost the battle before it even began. The ships is now being locked down, you are trapped in space, locked into combat with your fellow crewmembers. Stellar Shocktroopers are inbound. Your defeat is imminent. The security records that are in our possession, will provide amnesty to those who have not committed the atrocities of killing their fellow Stellarium citizens. If you surrender now, you will go free of any charges. Those of you who have committed crimes against life, will be persecuted due to Stellarium law. You will all be given fair lawsuits." The intercom scratched a little at the last syllable.

Azel, leader of the rebel cell, looked over at his second-in-command. Ojal just looked at his bloody sabre. An unfortunate thing that he'd slashed down that officer. Now that it was apparent how futile their attempt at taking over the ship had been, he just wished he could turn back the time and remain in his bed. Instead he now stood before doomsday. Within the next 2 days his destiny would be either death or survival.
If one listened, one would be able to hear the sound of weapons falling to the ground as the rebels who had not drawn blood immediately surrendered, hearing that freedom was within their grasp.

"Do you want me to discipline them?" Ojal asked, looking at Azel for guidance of some sort. "No. They shouldn't die for our folly. I should've planned this better. I should've faked a network breakdown. I shouldn't have pulled them aboard this sinking ship of a rebellion." Azel said, looking down at his feet where blood from one of the upper decks had begun running like a small stream. A lot of people had died, his only hope was that it wasn't all in vain.

"Keep fighting, or surrender. That's our choices. I'll fight on, those of you who want to join me can come to the lower quarters, where I'll be organizing a defense against the shocktroopers. The rest are free to surrender to Elay. It seems that the table has turned."

To: High Councillor Chao Lin
From: Orun

Dearest Chao Lin,

as I do see the reason in some of your propositions, I am afraid that we must take the discussion of an independent Maunkee Army must be taken up when I arrive at the Maunkee Empire. As of now I am travelling with a minor fleet of expeditionary forces, and I will arrive within the next pair of cycles. Should you consult the "infested" machine, it will give you approximate data as to our time schedule and a countdown as to my arrival.
Also, I am afraid that the gradual change from monetary system to our more fair system cannot be implemented, unless one wants a very long integration process into the Stellarium. Therefore I am afraid that it must be implemented swiftly when the first resource assessment drones and automated production plants arrive.
But let us plan things when I arrive. Communication might be much easier this way.

May the Greater Good be with you,