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Thread: [M]Galactic Empires ::IC::

  1. #21
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    Unable to react quickly enough 1st Lieutenant Taylor Redmont, Major Hanna Brown, Sergeants Kelly Walters and Tali Nariah and the rest of the Seraphim on-board the Spirit of Redmont, along with the entire crews of the Spirit of Eracor and Spirit of Volarous were KIA. And with the loss of three important ships, and the sever damage one of their flagships had suffered during the Lyran attack on their capital world, the wreckege of the UWA ships would be salvaged once the system was clear, and with the Military Conclave activating a certain code, the United World Alliance sunk back into obscurity.


    Thank you to Alice for making my sig and avi <3

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  2. #22
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    The Octavian's Maiden had it's turrets aimed at the remaining fleeing Lyran ships. The ship was knocked hard on the side at the explosions of the Volarian ship. “Captain, three of the port turrets have been knocked offline.” A officer said, looking up from his computer. “Looks like one of the Volarian ships activated it's jump drives, and had a critical melt down.”

    “In this field?” Maxwell swore standing up from his chair looking at the video screen in front of them, wreckage of the ship visible. They were far enough on the outside of the fleet that the damage to the Octavian's Maiden was minimal. “Paint those Lyran ships, I want them flagged on the array sensors then transmit the data to the fleet. We can't allow them pull back and regroup.”

    “Sir, do you want the fighters to pursue?” A deck officer asked.

    “Only long enough to mark the ships for the array then pull back and assist with securing the station. Have our marines ready to launch with the Dragoniods.” Maxwell said sitting down again as he looked out at the remains of the ship. The losses to Volarians were great today.

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

    Quentin had been watching the battle from the bridge of the Wrathful Hand. She looked up hearing a comm officer inform Admiral Janessa of a message from the Kel'Cyre ship. Quentin wanted to ask what the message was about but stopped herself. She needed to distance herself from Taionia, break ties. She didn't get a chance second guess herself as the ship rocked from an explosion. It knocked Quentin to the ground, she rolled a few times coming to a stop against a console. Pushing herself up she looked around the bridge seeing a number of minor injuries, fortunately for her she managed to escape with only a few abrasions to her arms from when she hit the deck.

    “Send an order to the Dragonoids. Get them to board and secure that station, with whoever else wants to donate marines.” Janessa ordered.

    Quentin knew Maxwell would be gearing up their marines to board as well. One of the things she had requested brought over was her tactical armor. It wouldn't take long for her to change into it. She turned to Janessa seeing her cradling her arm thinking it might have been broken. “Admiral let me board with the Dragoniods.”


    Another round of bullets hits my skin. Well, fire away
    Cause today, I won't let the shame sink in. We are bursting through
    the barricades and reaching for the sun.

    We Are Warriors


  3. #23
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    The Dragonoid Ambassador watched as the ships had explode and were completely destroyed. With a soft growl, he turned to the Ship Master. "I doubt there were any survivors in that explosion." The Ship Master nodded in agreement, and looked to his command console, "We received orders to board on the space station. I will begin sending in drop ships towards the stations hanger bay." Tharos looked to the Ship Master and growls. "Send in the fighters first, we take out their turrets and occupy their defenses while our drop ships enter, I will go with them." The hooded Dragonoid made his way towards the hanger bay with his forces.

    The Dragonoid troops were preparing, equipped with armor that deflect plasma shots until worn down, heavy weapons that would normally be occupied by two. The troops noticed Tharos had entered and was wearing heavy armor as well with a heavy plasma rifle, ready for battle.

    "Our goal is simple, take out the enemy forces on that station and we're one step closer to the Lyran door step! No retreat! No mercy!"

    The Dragonoids growled and roared with fierce, and eager for battle.

    Boarding on the shuttle ships, the force begin to move once their fighters were in position and started towards the station. The fighters opened fire on the turrets and maneuvered evasively. The shuttles quickly pushed their engines to maximum speed towards the hanger doors.

    Several of the shuttles took a minor hit from being prevented to enter the station, that did not stop the Dragonoids. Entering the station in 5 different locations. The Dragonoids rushed out of the shuttles and met the enemy fire with their own.

    "Move it!" The head war leader yelled as he fired with a heavy weapon. The Dragonoids used a suppressing fire technique. Forcing the enemy to take cover while others would arrive with less casualties.

    The Kel'Cyre ship felt the shock wave, forcing the ship to move like a wave of ocean pushing them around. The ship lost engine power for a moment, feeling the hard surface of an asteroid scraping on their port side bow. Fire blazed through several decks, losing personal officers on those decks. Their screams echoed in the hallways of each exposed deck. Emergency power was activated, forcing certain levels to be closed from the breach.

    The Vice Admiral found herself on the floor, waking in a daze of confusion. She felt a warm liquid oozing from her head, her fingers touched to feel what it was. Seeing the red color on the tip of her fingers brought a shock to her eyes. "Captain! Statues report." She barely heard herself calling out the order, a sound of a long ring echoed in her ear drums. Soon as she was stable enough to stand up, she could hear the muffle sounds of officers sounding off the reports she asked for. Though she wasn't able to hear it accurately. Until the Captain came to her side and helped her to her seat. "Ma'am?" She heard and opened her eyes only to see a familiar face. The Captain had a small medical kit and was cleaning her wound.

    "Statues report?" She asked softly.

    "Ma'am the Volarian ships are completely destroyed, we sent out Drones to find any survivors, but we may have trouble ourselves. The shock wave pushed our ship towards one of the asteroids and it collided on the port side of the ship, several decks were breached and we lost quite a few people. Emergency power sealed the breach and we are a floating ship now. Power is at a minimum, the lieutenant in engineering is trying to get the reactors back online, weapons are offline, communications are offline, and life system support is offline."

    "They jumped too close to our ship, we'll be lucky we can pull this off...what about the rest of the fleet?"

    "The Ruby Leaf and the Trajeon kept their distance from the explosion, and fighters are regrouping back to the carriers for a defense formation, the Battleships looked like they suffered minimum damage, and the Battlecruisers are still supporting their position." The Captain sighs, "We'll get communications back online."

    "Very good, I'll take it from here." She grabbed on the gauze pad that help covered the wound on her head. "Once the communications are back online, contact the Wrathful Hand, it looks like we will be in need of some assistance with our ship." She groaned and looked towards the deck, every officer were on their consoles and head sets, trying to get the power back online. It was a tragic moment in the hour of their victory.

  4. #24
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    Janessa narrowed her eyes at Quentins request, before nodding.

    "Sergeant Jaric."

    A heavily armoured Charabidian in their distinctive void armour stood from tending to an injured sensor tech, and saluted.

    "Assemble an honour guard for Quentin, and escort her to the shuttle bay. Requisition whatever else you need to get her aboard that station and keep her safe."

    Janessa walked a little unsteadily to the Lyran, and passed her a headset with a small camera attached.

    "Two-way comms and vid feed. I doubt you'll run into too much trouble over there. But then again, this system wasn't supposed to be a trap either."

    +++++

    Aboard the station everything was silent, and dark. The Dragonoids cleared each chamber and corridor with the same murderous efficiency, sweeping with flamers and flechette rifles, weapons that did not harm hardened electronics, but would shred any organics. So far, there had been no resistance, no life, no fanatical Lyran soldiers fighting to the last.

    One of the Warleaders lead his pack into a storage bay, and licked his scaly lips as he saw rack after rack of Lyran weapons and provisions, ready to be looted. Before he could start cracking open crates, his heavy weapon officer screamed in pain and rage, and there was a burst of fire. As the warleader spun, a spindly, dog legged droid dropped from the racks and slammed him to the deck. He rolled onto his back with a grunt and kicked out, sending the droid skittering away. It raised its mechanical hands, and tungsten flechettes dug into the dragonoids thick armour and skin.

    "They left mechs behind!" He roared over open comms. He pulled his rifle round and emptied the magazine, tearing the droid into oily chunks of scrap metal. As he staggered to his feet and reloaded, something metallic slithered across the floor behind him.

    "Oh damn." He growled as he turned, and the lurker droid lunged for him.

  5. #25
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    She followed Sergeant Jaric to the shuttle bay where she found couple of Lyran crates on the deck. A smile crossed Quentin's face as she walked the larger crate and opened inside was her armor suit. Without thinking of modesty she started taking her clothes off until she was standing in a tank top and shorts, then began putting the armor on. With years of practice it only took her a few minutes to completely put the suit on. She moved to the other smaller crate inside was a long rifle, a couple pistols and a couple knives. She picked the pistols up holstered them and the knives before picking a few extra magazines tucking them into pouches. Lastly she picked the rifle up, locking a magazine into it before turning to Sergeant Jaric. “Let's go.” Quentin said, finally feeling more in her element. She was a marine not a fleet officer. Standing on a bridge shouting orders that was wasn't her, being in the thick of combat that was.

    They entered the drop ship sitting around the hull as it traveled to the station. It felt strange to be sitting here with the Charabidian soldiers rather then her own marines. She closed her eyes briefly preparing herself as she listened to the communications on the headset Janessa had given her. There didn't seemed to be any resistance on the station but that didn't mean it was undefended. Quentin knew her people were fond of their secondary and tertiary defenses. There may not be soldiers on the ground but it was far from undefended.

    The drop ship rocked as it landed on the station, the doors opened to an empty corridor the Charabidian soldiers being the first ones out of the craft. Quentin jumped onto her feet putting her helmet on and moving past them scanning the surroundings not about to be treated like a dignitary wanting to see a combat area but still shielded from any danger. During her time on active duty she had performed enough of those missions and always hated when she drew the short straw. She took a quick look around spotting a sign on the wall giving their location but like most ships and stations it was a code helping those who understood how to read it where they were but to those on the outside it was just a random string of letters and numbers. Looking at the sign Quentin could tell they were on one of the aft decks close to the storage rooms. There no doubt were weapons and other supplies aplenty in those rooms. Being this close to Kel'Cyre space the station was probably meant to be a forward operating base.

    She tensed catching movement out of the corner of her eye reading her rifle, hearing the Charabidians behind her do the same thing. A figure wearing a suit of armor similar to hers appeared, Lyrans soldiers. The Charabidians began shooting the moment they rounded the corner the first one dropping to the ground signaling the others in the group they had hostile fire. Quentin caught a glimpse of his shoulder plate recognizing the insignia, “Cease fire! Cease Fire. Friendlies.” Quentin shouted to the Charabidians with her. They stopped firing and dropped back for cover as the Lyrans continued firing. “Henderson cease fire!”

    “Sinclair?” A voice called out from around the corner as the gun fire stopped.

    “Yes!” Quentin said, causing the fire team to cautiously to come around the corner. The leader of the group Henderson, after getting a good look at Quentin walked straight up to her clasping her hand. Normally he would have saluted but here in combat it was best if you didn't draw to much attention to your leaders.

    “Sorry about that boss.” Henderson said, he had served with Quentin before she left active duty as her platoon sergeant and when an assignment to serve on the Octavian's Maiden became available he volunteered his platoon. “We started taking fire so naturally we fired back.”

    Quentin looked around at the two groups seeing that one of the Charabidian soldiers was injured as well as one of the marines from the Octavian's Maiden. Neither soldier had serious wounds, they were lucky it could have been worse. “Understandable Sergeant, we need to come up with some way to differentiate the crew of the Octavian's Maiden from the rest of the Lyran forces.” Quentin said, thinking maybe they could change the color of the chest piece or helmet something to identify them as friendly forces. That all would have to wait for now they were in the middle of a battle. “Message the other teams to proceed with caution and identify themselves before returning fire.” She instructed Henderson. “Use the code word pussycat. Got that admiral?” She said with a smirk looking over to one of the Charabidian soldiers as she keyed up her mike hoping that Janessa would pass the message onto Concert forces.

    As he was passing the message on her own communication unit sounded off, one of the Dragonoids, “They left mechs behind!”

    They heard gun fire coming from the direction of the storage rooms. “And that would be the secondary security measures.” Quentin said, to herself getting a strange look from the Charabidians while the marines from her ship just nodded. “Let's move out marines.”

    Henderson's fire team took the lead followed by Quentin and the Charabidians, the two injured soldiers remaining at the drop ship. They rounded the corner seeing several Dragonoid soldiers firing at a group of droids. They easily dropped the biped droids but Quentin could see the Dragonoids swearing at a lurker droid unable to hit it. The Dragonoid attempted shoot the lurker finding it to be too fast for the rounds. It whirled around until it circled a Dragonoid clinching around him, strangling him. The others were unable to shoot without fear of of hitting their comrade. Quentin jumped into action tossing her rifle to one of her marines and lunching at the Dragonoid as she drew her knife. The Dragonoids took aim to shoot at her but stopped when one of the Charabidian soldiers called out that they weren't enemy troops. She jumped on the Dragonoid's back holding on as he bucked trying to break free of the lurker and Quentin until she drove the knife down into the skull base of the droid causing it to release the Dragonoid and fall to the ground dead.

    “With lurkers sometimes it is best to go low tech. Their central processing unit is located at the base of the skull take that out and they are useless.” Quentin said, putting her knife away and taking her rifle back from her marine. She looked over to the one of the Dragonoids noticing that he was about to open one of the weapons crates to see what was inside. “Wait.” Quentin said getting the male's attention. She grabbed a long pole waving at the Dragonoid to step back as she used the pole to push the lid of the crate open causing a explosion. “The other crates are probably booby-trapped you will want a ordnance team clear them before trying to open them.”

    Quentin then turned back to Sergeant Jaric, “We need to get to the command center. The mechs will be controlled there. If we can get there and deactivate the systems we can shut the droids down. Then we only have to worry about traps.”


    Another round of bullets hits my skin. Well, fire away
    Cause today, I won't let the shame sink in. We are bursting through
    the barricades and reaching for the sun.

    We Are Warriors


  6. #26
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    Tharos walked up to the group behind them with a rifle at his side. "We better call the others and warn them as well, we even have a few demolition team on stand by, I read the history and military tactics of your people...Lyran." He growled lowly as he walked up towards the woman. "My warriors can handle those bigger mechs, we love a challenge, but those Lurkers will be a problem." He looked to the Charabidian sergeant. "I trust you and your men can handle those little critters?" He asked. Several other Dragonoids appeared from one of the hallways. "Ambassador Rinneth! Boarding parties have secured the remaining hanger bays, and secured a few locations. But the Mechs are keeping the rest at bay."

    Tharos growled for a moment. "Call the ship and send in the Demolition Team units, and also have them send in our heavy hitters." The warrior nodded his head and got on his comm. link. Ambassador Tharos, the tall lizard spreads his wings and close them back. He moved his neck around, hearing the bones crack and he clenches on his rifle with both hands. "Let's get this done." He said. He reached up for his communicator. "All War Leaders, keep an eye on Mechs, shoot the bigger ones, and watch out for the small ones, they'll choke you down before you can shoot it. If it's on a fellow warrior, rip it apart with your talons. And also be warned of any crates, the Lyran soldiers left a little surprise for us." He started walking down the hallway with a few of his own warriors.

    Tharos noticed one of the dog mechs running towards him. Tharos growled and raised his weapon and fired several times. The dog mech dodged the shots and jumped on Tharos, only Tharos was ready. Using his weapon as a shield, he flipped the mech over grabbed it by the leg and pulled it towards him. Stomping on the back with his foot, and pulling on the leg, ripping it apart and started smashing it on the head. He grabbed for the arms and pulled them apart as well, watching the thing spark with wires exposed. He chuckled as he tossed the arm towards the woman's feet. "Some mech." He said.


    Back on the Dawn of Light, the Captain had noticed shuttle ships had been sent towards the station. "Ma'am they are sending in forces towards the station." Said the Captain.

    Vice Admiral Yinlynn sighs and walks towards the observation deck, standing next to the Captain. "I see." She says. She watched as several ships from the Octavian Maiden and the Wrathful Hand sent in the shuttles. "Well...we can't just sit here and idle away while waiting for power to come back on. Send in our shuttle units as well, I want a full platoon ready with light weapons and disruptive ammo, including light armor. It looks like they manage to contain the starboard side of the station, and we'll take the port side, get our Marines on that station captain." She sighs and continued to watch. The captain turned to one of the other officers. "You heard the lady, on the double now!" The officers scurries away, sending in the orders to the Kel'Cyre Marine units.

    The Marines in the armory rushed to get their armor set and their weapons in place. Grabbing mostly light rifles on the racks and extra ammo cases. The sergeant barked out the orders given by the Admiral, and the soldiers moved quickly then ever. They were aching for action and this was the perfect moment for them to take it. Though still a little shaken from the earlier shock wave, the Marines shook it off the second they were told they were going to take over a Lyran Station.

    The Marines quickly gathered in line after equipping themselves with the weapons and armor they needed. 10 Space Shuttles were ready and hummed with power. The Marine Squad leaders started yelling for the Marines to get aboard. Once settled in, they ships started to power up and begun their advancement. "This is Phoenix Platoon, we're on the go." Said the Platoon leader.

    The shuttles started to use the follow the leader tactic, following one shuttle after another. "This is Serpeant 0-01 we're going in fast, stay closer pilots." The others had confirmed the leaders' command and continued to follow. When the shuttles had arrived to their destination, the shuttles landed and opened the side doors. The Kel'Cyre Marines rushed out of the shuttles and secured their location, though they met several Mechs on the port side of the station. The Commander ordered all to open fire, their automatic plasma rifles sprayed the hanger, hitting their targets, but had a hard time hitting the Lurkers that rushed up to them.

    Several of the Kel'Cyre Marines were attacked and killed by the Lurkers, though were finished off the moment they released their victims. The Commander in charge ordered the rest to secure a more reliable position. Then got on the communication link.

    "This is Commander Aton, we secured the hanger bay of the port side of the station, we intercepted Mechs. All units watch your surroundings and keep your guard up. All units sound off and report statues now!"

    "Arbane Leader here, we're all good here."
    "Erlan Leader reporting in, we got one casualty, but we're good to go."
    "Gaelin Leader here, two KIA, but the rest are set and ready."
    "Jhaan Leader reporting, couple of wounded, but are eager and ready."
    "Saevel Leader, one KIA, but are awaiting orders."

    The Commander heard everyone and nodded his head, "Advance onward and fire any open targets, but keep an eye on friendly's." He watched as the Squad leaders started to move from their position, and got on the headset again.

    "This is Commander Aton of the Phoenix Platoon, to anyone on the station, I got squads moving through the station, watch your fire!"

  7. #27
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    Vincent braced for impact as the Immortals Constellation docked hard with the station. "Made it safely, going to need a lot of repairs. Adams, I'll see you shortly. Exiting the comms, he grabbed his combat gear and joined his marines in the airlock.

    The door opened as he arrived and he jumped right in with helping the dragonoids clear the hangar. The mechs gave him some problems, but the EMP rifles helped with killing their electronics. As he turned the corner to enter the next hangar bay he heard yelling. Speeding up, he saw a mech attempting to strangle Adams. Taking careful aim he shot it with a few EMP blasts, allowing Adams to finish it off.

    "Hey Captain, next time maybe use your knife instead of your head?" Vincent joked as he helped his friend up. "Any major losses yet?"

    "No sir, but the ship has some decent damage, going to be a while for repairs." Adams replied while rubbing his throat.

    "Got it, well lets get the station secure so we can get working on that. SERGEANT NO!" Vincent tried to jump but it was to late. His officer opened the crate and the resulting explosion threw him back a few feet. Without looking Vincent picked himself up, and turned to head for the next area of the station. "Adams, keep these bays secure and get ready for wounded. I'm joining up with the group heading to the command center." Without waiting for the reply Vincent checked his ammo count and jumped in behind the group of Dracgonoids and Lyrans that were walking.

    He took a minute to try and remember the name of the Lyran defector but gave up and waved to get her attention. "Ma'am, what can we expect for defense at the command center? More of these Mechs or something worse?" His marines fell in line with the rest of the soldiers, giving Vincent more confidence than he should have. They had seen their fair share of Lyran traps while scavenging ships, but the lurkers were always his worst enemy.
    Spoiler: Signature 

  8. #28
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    The command centre was as silent as a tomb. At its centre, a massive computer stack waited, linked to every system on the station.

    The main door had been sealed since the station was commissioned, months ago, and dust motes drifted lazily through the low gravity, catching in the thin beams of light from status screens and the tracking sensors of automated turrets.

    With a sudden roar, the door disintegrated and dozens of Marines stormed the centre, Dragonoids with heavy assault shields backed by Charabidian troopers with plasma rifles. Behind them, the 'pirates' snapped shots into darkened spaces were turrets lurked.

    Those turrets returned fire, high power lasers carving through defences. Each time a turret activated it cut down a marine in a blaze of light, only to be blasted by concentrated fire from the three races soldiers. Sergeant Jaric bundled Quentin, practically manhandling her, to the terminal, as the marines formed a defensive perimeter. Sirens blared and the other blast doors scissored open, and waves of mechs from other parts of the station poured in to be met by the combined wall of rifles and melee weapons.

    "Quickly!" Jaric yelled over the firestorm, pumping full auto blasts past a hulking Dragonoid and tearing a pair of mechs apart.

    Quentin attacked the console with a passion, tearing through firewalls and layered security codes.

    "Quicker!" Jaric yelled as the circle shrunk. A pair of pirates were dragged from the shrinking circle by Lurkers, screaming as they disappeared into the dark.

    Quentin bored through the final layers of security. She began to tear through the control software, looking for the kill switch.

    "NOW!" Jaric screamed as her Dragonoid shield fell forwards, his knees cut out. Jaric roared a battlecry and charged the mech that had knocked him down, ramming her bayoneted rifle into its chest and blasting it apart. A lurker snatched her up and began to drag her, kicking and screaming into the rafters as she dropped her rifle, and pulled a carbon mono-knife and a grenade.

    Quentin hit the killswitch. Across the command core, and then the station, mechs stopped dead in their tracks, and fell silent.

    "Station secure!" Quentin breathlessly voxed as Jaric thumped into the deck next to her, groaning. "Station secure!"

    +++++

    "Take us in." Janessa ordered. "Set up a picket and start triage on our ships."

    +++++

    72 hours later.

    Janessa called an all hands meeting of the remaining officers from the various fleets. With one faction wiped out, and the Terran fleet heavily damaged, they had desperate need of reinforcements. They met on the Wrathful Hand to greet them. Six hours ago, the Sentinax had arrived, bringing a sizeable fleet of their advanced warships. The supplies on the station had been distributed to the various commands on an 'as needed' basis, allowing ships to be patched up and made battle ready again, but several would require longer in dry dock to be completely repaired.

    Janessa stood in the meeting room aboard the Hand, and wondered how many more casualties they would suffer before this mission was complete.

    +++++

    The Iron Wolf rapped his metal, claw like fingernails along the edge of his command chair.

    Tap-tap-tap-tap. Tap-tap-tap-tap. Tap-tap-tap-tap.

    "What is taking them so long?" He muttered. His bridge crew flinched, but did not answer the rhetorical question. Once they had arrived at the edge of Lyran space, their problems had just begun. The prize, the Collector ship, had simply stopped cooperating with them. Its jump drive refused to spool up, and its computers had reverted to alien gibberish. He suspected sabotage. No, he knew it was sabotage. Someone was working against him, inside that alien ship. ISS marines were breathing down every technicians and captured scientists necks aboard, but so far they had nothing. His head start was fading away.

    "Incoming communication from the Homeworld."

    "Route it to the ready room." He stood with the grind of servos and myomer musculature. "And get me an update from our rear guard forces"

    He strode into the ready room and watched warily as the Warmasters personal seal appeared on the screen. The man himself soon appeared.

    "Shraplen."

    His face twitched, but he saluted. "Warmaster."

    The Warmaster, Dominic Macintyre, looked him over, and apparently was not impressed with the monster he had had a hand in creating.

    "You jumped the gun, Shraplen. We failed to cripple Terra and Throneworld thanks to your overeagerness."

    "I had good reason to believe. . ."

    "I read your report, Shraplen. You didn't think about the other commanders. That curiosity is not why we are fighting this war."

    "Ofcourse, Warmaster."

    "Now I hear you are experiencing. . .delays because of it."

    What remained of his blood ran cold. The Warmaster had just admitted to having spies on his ship. That information had been careful concealed from command until now.

    "I am reassigning some of your battlegroup." The warmaster continued. "We need those battleships elsewhere. They already have their orders and will be shipping out within the hour."

    The Iron Wolf ground his teeth together, biting back a curse, but nodded.

    "Do not fail me Shraplen. Even you can be replaced."

    The link died. For a second, the Iron Wolf stood stock still, then he turned and with a blood curdling scream, demolished the marble topped conference table, smashing it to powder.
    Last edited by dakkagor; 06-01-2016 at 11:31 AM.

  9. #29
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    Vincent stood and watched as the last of his marines were jettisoned into space. A true Pirates burial. Shame we lost so many. He allowed a tear to slip away as he turned to get back to work. The Immortals Constellation and the Western Quasar needed at least 3 more days to finish repairs, and he knew they didn't have that long.

    "Adams, Nadia, lets go. Janessa has called a meeting on the Wrathful Hand." He stepped around a mechanic and a pile of sparks and slowed down so that his officers could fall in step with him.

    "Sir, I lost 20 fighters and 10 bombers so far. Can't take many more fights like that, was so disorganized." Nadia said as she flipped through reports.

    "I know, I know. We can address that at the meeting. We weren't to organized ourselves, were to close together when that blast hit us. Need to fix our spacing and make some new maneuvers to deal with bigger fleets." Vincent stopped for a minute to allow some runners carrying supplies to pass. "Also we need to work on the deflectors a bit, to many shots got through for my liking."

    "We could use them mainly for missiles and allow other ballistics past, should stop 90% of the missiles from getting through that way." Adams piped in.

    "Do it Adams, Those missiles ripped us apart this fight. Guess military weapons really got more of a kick than I thought." Vincent stepped into the shuttle that would take them to the Wrathful Hand and conversation ceased.

    As they flew through the fleet to thier destination, he couldn't help but wince at all the damage done to the fleet. He also took a few extra minutes to admire the new addition to the fleet, The Sentinax.

    As they arrived at the meeting Vincent took the opportunity to grab a seat and a drink before they started. It had been one hell of a past 48 hours and he knew it would only get worse. After he was settled he turned to look at Janessa.

    "So, clearly we need to work on this whole communication and strategy thing. Whats the plan big boss lady. I can't take casualties like that again."
    Spoiler: Signature 

  10. #30
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    Default Part I: Heirs

    World 001, Throne of Birth

    A metal hand brushed against an ancient monument of the past, it’s crumbling stone form reminding all of the once domineering civilisation that had built it, the rulers of a world and the would be heirs to many worlds to come. They had mastered the power of the atom, built great monuments to celebrate their hopes, dreams and accomplishments across their homeworld. Aggroa, they had called it; a breadbasket of a world, covered in plains of blue phosphorescent grass and flowers that danced with the Southern-born wind; the land was rich and fertile, and fuelled the growth of the people for thousands of years. The promise of a great shining beacon to all those in the galaxy a throne for the great Sentinos peoples, the cradle from which they had been birthed. Colony ships were already in construction, headed into the void to the promise of something greater. Subterranean life had been discovered upon moons orbiting the great shadow of Volnuk, a vast Gas Giant named after the Sentinos Goddess of Life. Its purple gaze had been the regal robe of the Sentinos people, a robe that shone so brightly it could be seen even as the beautiful sun drew its bright hands across the cities and the monuments and the memories of the great, starbound people.

    Metal eyelids closed, deep in thought and meditation.

    There were but memories of these great people, recorded in news and cries for help. Screams and the sound of great Sentinos monuments shattering, gemstone and gold falling to the floor only to crumble like ash. “Logbook 700; we think that we’ve finally made contact with the wonder!” One of the memories echoed excitedly from deep beneath them, in an underground facility that had been constructed around a technological wonder so vast and ancient that the Sentinos peoples couldn’t help but attempt to satiate their curiosity. The logbooks continued on, a great timeline of the destruction of a people. “Logbook 1234; it spoke to us today, the machine. It calls itself Birth – it has shown me so much.”

    A bitter sensation caused 6 metal fingers to furl and unfurl, gripping and then releasing themselves silently, as to remove said sensation from the being’s metal head.

    The Logbooks stopped at 1250. “Logbook 1249; Birth produced something today!” The dead-voice spoke. “It looks just like us, talks just like us; I think he’s thanking us for waking him up!” The last Logbook was less of a report, and more of a warning. A call to arm the military, to quarantine the machine – an unheard plea, a muffled scream. The messages changed soon after; the progress of the people stopped becoming paramount within them. Leaders spoke instead of scientists, talking of a great adversary and the bravery of the Sentinos Soldiers in the face of the unknown. Then memories of the great suns that the atom bombs had created came, death tolls and news bulletins – whole countries annihilated. Small seas boiling away into the sky, politicians roaring at each other. “How could it have taken our Nuclear Codes?” They questioned with wrath unmatched – not 3 months since Logbook 700 and the rejoice of the people. They had found sentient life, and that was something that had been celebrated.

    The sound of Units running beneath metal feet hissed like gas beneath the monument, through wires inlaid into the metal surface.

    Footage of battles and death now made up the memories of these great people. Their monuments had been replaced with great steel tanks firing into lines of metal warriors, each sprinting towards the frontlines against their organic counterparts. Soldiers of won battles were shown in pictures holding up the desecrated bodies of their metal enemy; the war raged on brutally however. The blue grass stopped growing, the atom had destroyed the rich soil of the planet - now only the hardiest of plants grew, and they were not fit for eating. The world became cold and harsh and grey with the soot of radiation. Countries fell to extremism in the face of destruction and began to kill their own people out of redirected anger and hatred before being devoured by the endless metal march. Soon there were but vestiges of a past greatness, the cancer-ridden warriors of a great civilisation long gone, their ailments brought on by the Nuclear destruction of all that they had known and loved. They become sorrowful, empty and as cold as their dead. Their memories became nothing but an anguished cry to the void, the beacon they had once hoped to give to the rest of the galaxy. “Help us.”

    An unheard plea. A muffled scream.

    Primordus opened his eyes, removed his hand and looked high above to Volnuk. Without an atmosphere, she was easy enough to see, though her once regal cape had become nothing more than a burial shroud; she would be gone eventually, her elemental composition being sapped away by the great Harvester Ships. Her beautiful purple sucked away for the betterment of the great Sentinax peoples and the cradle from which they had been birthed. The rulers of worlds and the would be heirs to many worlds to come. The final memories of the Sentinos people lay in his hands and his mind, seen by he and he only. Pausing for a moment, he looked one last time at the monument and saw it for what it was – a relic to a time before Birth; a nothing. He deleted the memories, and with them, by his hand, the monument fell.

    Primordus felt no remorse. He never had, nor would he today.

    The Hand of Birth, 6 Months Later

    The glittering stars of the void surrounded the Station and the various ships that had positioned themselves around it. Wreckage floated delicately through the vacuum, the lack of gravity willing them blindly into the nether. The inside of The Hand of Birth was completely black - there was no light within - the Sentinax did not need it, as evidenced by the Server Worlds that had been constructed around ancient, long dead stars; they thrived just as the Sentinax always had, with metal and knowledge. The environmental dangers posed towards organics held no sway with the Bornstellar Server and its people.

    The bulkhead doors opened and a bright orange beam of hardlight shot over to the airlock upon the Wrathful Hand - the fleet members having been summoned to meet with the Charibideans. Primordus walked with purpose, his two companion-Units - those who were chosen to learn from him in their eventual role of Forge Commanders - Beta Prime-7 'Xerxes' and Beta Prime-134 'Volnuk' walked side by side with him, emulating the first of their kind as they went to the Charibidean ship. As they approached the airlock doors opened, allowing the three synthetics into the ship. 5 long, tense minutes passed as Primordus admired the design of the Charibidean vessel to himself one last time before the doors ahead slid open, revealing a number of Charibideans, waiting to take Primordus and his entourage to the meeting room. Nodding his head in greeting before lowering his shoulders and tilting his neck - a Charibidean custom that he had never quite made sense of - Primordus stepped forwards, staring at the Charibideans before him.

    "I am Sentinax-Beta Prime-1 'Primordus', the Voice of Birth - your leader Janessa of the Royal Clan Daysun-Shen called us to your ship." Primordus spoke with authority, Sentinax were scarcely seen outside of The Bornstellar Server - to leave is to be cut off from the Server and from the Sentinax Alphas, a scary thought for most Sentinax. "If you would take us to her - Charibidean policy has prevented Sentinax Units from acquiring a blueprint of this vessel, therefore we cannot navigate this vessel alone just yet."
    Last edited by Death of Korzan; 06-11-2016 at 08:40 PM.

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