Ichthyomachy: Ilë Sornë vs Nobuseri

[Arizona Nova]

-=The Hall of the Assembly of Ilë Sornë, Kelwynd

Delegate Lonán Kennedy hissed an intake of breath.

"She's coming here?" he venomously whispered into his miniphone. "Unacceptable! You had better get at least a guard detail on her. Yes, she is that dangerous! Unless you want to end up back out in the New Constantinople sewer system scrounging for rats and whatever other God-forsaken edible mutants there might be, you get that done and you get it done now!"

He snapped the phone shut, his face white with anger, and his pulse pounding in his ears. Anyone looking up at him in his seat would probably mistake his appearance as a side affect of the Tzoy's anger, but it was all his own. Their fury was beginning to abate anyway as the Assembly churned slowly but now surely toward action. Special defense pickets were being quietly established to prepare for a Nobuseri counter-attack when the axe of Ilë Sornë military might fell, and economic sanctions had already been leveled. While Nobuseri was a part of the ESUS and thus had access to imports and exports from some of the largest nations outside of Sol, the cutting off of goods from the Republic would score a significant dent in their economy - especially with the growth of its luxury market (however immoral, by Republic standards).

This unscheduled appearance by Anikar, however, was not conducive to his or anyone else's plans, and indeed, not five minutes later, the old fool Ernesto ceded the floor to Anikar. The witch stood calmly at the podium, smiling as she looked up into the assembled delegates. To Lonán it was but the visage of a wolf. He now trembled slightly, out of fear as much as anger, and punched out a signal to the guards to be on standby. If she was to make her move, she would do it now.

"Honored Delegates of the Republic," Anikar began, slowly and elegantly, turning in place to fix her eyes on the assembled, "Our difficulty in recent months in dealing with the abduction of our Tzoy fellow-beings is one that is a great shame upon the reputation of our nation and upon this hallowed Republic." She paused, letting the Tzoy's ire raise somewhat, no doubt. "This failure has caused many to call to account the ability of our armed forces to defend us, and our Assembly to control them, and of our diplomats to see justice done to the perpetrators."

Lonán's finger was on the button.

She lazily continued, "Many solutions have been offerred to this problem, most of them more ineffective than the last. The time for decisive action, and showing a united front, is now." She raised her left hand up to punctuate the point, her eyes locking with Lonán's.

"I have a solution," she said.

Lonán finger began to depress the button.

"We," she said slowly, "Shall build a wonder unseen in the world - perhaps almost all of them - since the first Anikari walked Arizona Prime itself."

Lonán's finger leapt back off his phone. He dearly prayed that it had not sent the signal; he had expected her to summon flame, not a public works proposal! He could not let his ire show, though - her eyes were still fixed upon him. Though far off he thought he could almost see the mockery twinkling in her eyes.

She motioned to some tech, who began running a program on a nearby console. Projected in the middle of a chamber was a great mountain. The eyes of all the delegates fixed upon it, except for Lonán, who still fixed his own gaze on the speaker below.

"What I have in mind, is an... invention, of the Anikari in their latter days on the Old World, after my first... deposition."

Something representing some sort of laser drill materialized off to one side of the mountain, opening fire at its base.

"Now, one of their greatest works, according to the old legends, were massive flying cities, built using the mightiest arcanum. Whole mountains would be cut from the Earth, lifted into the skies, and then up-ended."

As if to illustrate the point for a modern-day technological standpoint, the laser drill made a straight cut along the mountain's base, as anti-grav and repulsor generators materialized at points along the mountain's base, directing rays at the mountain. Eventually the drill cut clean through the entire thing, and slowly it lifted as the repulsors worked on it.

"On top of these platforms," she continued, "they would built great cities. Once construction was complete, the last step to the process was undertaken. The mountain was imbued with magic that would allow it to float aloft, and its supports from the Earth were themselves discarded. The city could then float wherever it was pleased to go."

The mountain diagram flipped, revealing a flat bottom, and a little city sprouted on it. Meanwhile, the repulsors lifted up and embedded themselves in the sides of the bottom of the mountain.

"Now," she said, "One may ask themselves, just how useful such a construct would be, especially to a civilization no longer limited to the face of one world? Well, it is obvious that Nobuseri battleships can jump in and out of hard atmosphere at will."

The mountain-city dimmed and minimized, and in its place a representation of a Nobuseri vessel, huge and menacing, appeared in its place.

"Our orbital platforms are not designed to fire in, and even if they were, it would be unwise to lob shells that could, at the right speed and angle, cause an extinction event on the world being defended, and it would be outright suicidal to use the PBSL system in-atmosphere. The explosion of the Nobuseri battleship would scorch off continents."

The mountain city reappeared, and the Nobuseri battleship was shrank until it was to scale. Next to the city, it was as a tiny midge.

"One of these flying cities would cruise at just the right area to engage such a battleship; it would not have to suffer being far below and stationary as with a ground-based defense, nor worry about causing collateral damage as with an orbital defense. Going be sheer size and mass alone, it would be a hopeless contest for the Nobuseri vessel. Now add in that one could easily mount starship-grade PPC turrets on the city in hundreds of batteries..."

To illustrate the point, the city sprouted hundreds of little bumps across its circumference and within the city. Hundreds of little green lights erupted from it, slamming into the Nobuseri battleship, which vanished.

"Three-quarters, if not more, of the funds it would take to build a similarly sized platform, artificially built, would be saved. The resulting structure would be even more robust anyway, as the selected mountains would be an almost completely solid mass of only the hardest materials."

More Nobuseri battleships appeared, flinging munitions at the behemoth mountain, to no avail. The holographic guns answered, zapping away each vessel in their turn.

"The mountain would be independently reactored and shielded from the planet below. This combination of physical toughness and power would make it a difficult nut for anyone to crack, conceivably even a Facehuggerian destroyer. As well, if in the event the planet was lost, it would be easier and quicker to remove such a city as this than one rooted in the Earth."

A great ring materialized around the city, looking like a stargate. It dropped down, activating its iris, and in turn, the mountain-city dropped into it, disappearing.

"In economic terms, it would pay for itself; perhaps not immediately, but soon enough. The tremendous boost to employment just constructing it would be incredible, not to mention the enormous tax revenue that could be earned by those living on the mountain."

The hologram switched off, and Anikar bowed and took a seat.

Lonán repressed a furious tic. He had been fooled! All along Anikar had given some indication by her furtive dealings of some great happening, this day, right now! All that had come forth was some pie-in-the-sky public works project! He fumed as Ernesto thanked Anikar for the proposal and began to methodically turn the wheels of the bureacracy to consider it. Lonán looked around at the delegates - many looked quite skeptical, while others seemed lost in starry-eyed wonder. The fools! He would put a stop to this. He indicated his desire to speak and waited until it came around to him, making certain to ignore the babblers preceding him.

"With all due respect, your Emeritus," he began, his voice ringing loudly and clearly, "this proposal is complete rubbish! The first indication should have been the fact it's been taken out of old legends. You cannot seriously be considering taking defense policy out of scrolls millenia old, describing events which have absolutely no surety in the historical record? It's preposterous!"

He looked down at Anikar, but she no longer looked at the delegates, but stared straight ahead her face neutral. This lack of reaction infuriated him further.

"Furthermore, the idea that anything, even a mountain of granite, could stand up to a Facehuggerian destroyer is preposterous. Their point defense weapons can end worlds! I doubt this toy would have any chance. As far as Nobuseri battleships are concerned, it has not been taken into account their grunt troops, which lest we forget are robots twice as big as a single Hughie! You propose we build these, stuff them full of civilians, and then gasp in astonishment as they are butchered in detail by those monstrosities? It's madness!"

While he was waxing more melodramatic than he would have otherwise liked, Lonán knew his points were striking home. Faces formerly dreamy were now sobering up.

"Finally, the cost of the reactors required to power such a construct, much less the shielding, defense systems, guns, and stargate, which would have to be orbital sized, would be staggering! For that cost, we could probably construct five battleships, which would certainly be faster and more maneuverable!"

Anikar remained unmoved below. Lonán growled, and concluded his speech.

"Thank you Delegate Kennedy," said Ernesto. The discussion moved on, but anyone for the proposal had lost their fire, and when finally taken to a vote, the proposal did not pass, but was tabled. Lonán peered down at Anikar, who still sat stoically as ever. He knew he had won... but something still didn't feel right.

Below, Anikar sat impassive, concentrating on an odd knot in the finished woodwork of the podium. Things were going exactly as planned - the witch-hunters had all been fooled into panicking at her arrival, and been perplexed when she had done essentially nothing. She knew her proposal wouldn't go through - she had planned on it - and now the way was clear for her to pursue the next stage of her plan. This weak check would soon reveal itself as just the cover to the checkmate.

[Kreshh]

“So you’re trying to silence me, is that it?�

“Relax Vice Admiral, I know we’ve had our differences in the past, but I consider yours to be a voice of reason. Moreover I know you to be a man of ideals, with uncompromising integrity and honor. I have no intention of ‘silencing’ you.�

“Then why the transfer, if not to deprive the council of my influence? Do not think me a fool; I know well enough that you benefit greatly from this madness, Grand Admiral.�

“I will not deny my ambition, but if war is declared? How then do I benefit? I have no desire to rule over rubble, and this is a battle the Nobuseri cannot win. We must prevent it.�

“I agree that something must be done, but it seems to me that I would be best able to prevent war from my seat on the council. Not some backwater station.�

“Tell me Yuudai, when did you realize that the High Command Council is naught but bureaucracy choked morass infested to its core with lies and deceit?�

The Vice Admiral appeared somewhat taken aback by this query, “I… knew that long before I was ever made a councilor.�

“And the Sornei, they are reasonably intelligent, do you not agree?�

“I suppose…?�

“It would seem that they have come to this realization as well. They would appear to be increasingly skeptical of the council’s proclamations; they may even suspect its claim to have authorized the Baramua attack to be the lie that we both know it is. There is just one problem.�

“…?�

“Intelligence reports that Ilë Sornë is on the verge of breaking off communications, we will have no way of reasoning with them once this occurs; unless something is done, war will become inevitable.�

Vice Admiral Yuudai pondered this for a moment, normally he would have suspected the truth of the Grand Admirals statement, however his own contacts had related similar information. He had assumed that the lack of communication was a prelude to an attack, but perhaps the Grand Admiral was correct in his assessment that it was motivated by despondence. “I still do not fully grasp the relevance of my transfer to this situation.�

“Our only hope is that the Sornei will seek to initiate a dialog through less official means. If so, they will most likely direct their diplomatic overtures towards the instillation in question. Ergo, I am tasked with ensuring that, if they do, there will be someone… reasonable there to receive them. You are such a man.�

“… Very well, but why are you transferring Admiral Takashi, and Vice Admiral Ryouta as well?�

“It is not enough to simply enable the voice of reason; one must also silence the voice of madness. The officers that they will be replacing are… overzealous. It is altogether possible they might behave foolishly, endangering us all.�

Yuudai again pondered the situation. What the Grand Admiral said seemed reasonable; however, he had been deceived by the man’s cunning and sophistry before. Yuudai would have to keep his wits about him, but for now he would not protest. “Very well, I will withdraw my objection.�

“Indeed. The battle for reason in the council has been lost, and now the battle for Southern Fleet Command is commencing. Let us hope we fair better.� The Grand Admiral offered a salute, which was returned with appropriate formality.

“Yes sir,� He turned to exit the office, the blast door slamming shut behind him.


A hint of a smile crossed the Grand Admiral’s face, “Goodbye Yuudai, we will not meet again.� Several moments passed before the he compressed the intercom in an underdramatic movement.

“Yes, Grand Admiral?�

“The plan will move forward on schedule, those idealists who refused to lie under pressure have been relocated from the council. All those who remain are realists, the perfect environment for what is to come.�

“Excellent news, sir!�

“… Tell our friend to commence preparations for a counterattack, this will not take long.�

[Arizona Nova]

-=ISRV The Invisible Hand, Rally Point for Operation Thunderstruck

"Have the final vessels chosen to take part in this operation arrived?" asked High Admiral Colombe Absalom to the ghostly hologram before him. He stood hunched over a table diagramming a fairly accurate representation of Nobuseri's Southern Fleet Headquarters.

"Yes, Admiral Absalom," replied the authoritative baritone of High Admiral Govannon. "Although I will not be accompanying this expedition."

"Well it is a first strike," said Admiral Absalom lazily. "We go in with a smaller force, knock out their fleet command there, and withdraw."

"Since when has five-hundred vessels been a small force?" asked Admiral Govannon in a playfully incredulous manner.

Admiral Absalom smirked. "Since the Budgetary Committee for the Assembly realized that all told this nation can support up to ten-thousand vessels - if not more. As is, I have something special in mind. It is time we used the Meson projectors."

Admiral Absalom frowned somewhat at this. "I don't know if this is the oppurtune time. This is an important engagement, yes, but not on the scale we wanted..."

"Outside of just having the Fist jump in charged, turn the gas giant into a black hole, and leave, I don't see a faster or neater way about it. Once their shields are down, it's over."

"As you wish," said Admiral Govannon's hologram warily. "Good luck, High Admiral, and godspeed."

"Aye aye, sir," said Admiral Absalom. The hologram faded, and he turned to face the window and the stars without.

***

As one, the five centuries of Sornei vessels, made the jump into hyperspace, the lights of their drives twinkling and reflecting off the smooth sheen of the "new" Thandrori and Sharaeleraes hulls, contrasting alongside the massive gunmetal grey bulk that was the Invisible Hand and the old Königsberg supercruisers. Last of all the massive Hand slid into hyperspace, although it would be foremost in the fight.

***

-=Southern Fleet Headquarters, Nobuseri

The fleet left little time for any countermeasures or reaction on the Nobuseri side. Coming out fairly staggered, perhaps even dangerously so, they did not drop in close to the planet and its defenses. The weapons they would employ were precise, and designed to hit from range. The fight should - needed - to end in two strokes.

It was not with the PPCs that they opened up, but with the Nova Phoenix and Mjlonir and Buster Missiles. Essentially warheads strapped on to FTL drive, there was no report, no flash of light as they exitted the missile tubes, and in fact the circuits handling the signals to fire them had not even begun to cool down before the missiles had hit home. Smashing into vessels and even down into the gas giant and the station waiting therein, they would come until all energy shields were down.

[Kreshh]

The intermittent flashes of orange and blue illuminated the Command Deck of Southern Fleet Headquarters. Lightning in a gas giant was frequent, were it only slightly more consistent and a tad brighter it probably could be used as the deck’s primary light source. Vice Admiral Yuudai would have liked that very much; he far preferred this maelstrom’s glorious aura to the unnatural, antiseptic glow of the station’s own lights.

Being the officer on duty for a relatively large instillation such as this was dull and tedious, but at least he was sparred the endless bickering of the council in all its bureaucratic grandeur. And, of course, should the Sornei arrive he would be the one to commence negotiations. “Hmm…� he thought, “savior of the Nobuseri race, that would look good on a resume.� He chuckled internally at the idea, though he knew that, even if it were true, the others probably wouldn’t see it that way. He would just have to be content with what little solace his noble deed brought him… though, in retrospect, he’d never been very good at that.

There was a beeping at the sensor station, corresponding to a series of contact indicators on the display. Yuudai perceived their meaning even before the attending officer could relate it, “Sir, we have multiple contacts, classification matches known Ilë Sornë designs.�

“Excellent, you may hail them lieutenant.� Now was Yuudai’s moment to shine, the moment he had been waiting for since this whole incident began… no, for his entire life. His chance to usher in a new era of rational dialog and peace, to save the Nobuseri from the endless squabbling and subterfuge that had plagued them since the dawn of their history. He only wished the planet’s atmospheric conditions would permit him to lower shields as a sign of good faith.

Something pulled his focus away from optimism, some nagging wrongness that seemed to permeate the Command Deck. He refocused, but could not help to think, “What is this feeling?� His meditations were cut short as the command deck filled with white light, distinct from the planet’s typical electrical chaos, had the transmetal windows not been designed to limit electromagnetic passage beyond a certain point it probably would have been blinding.

“Sir, we’re under attack!�

The Vice Admiral wondered if his subordinate had anything else obvious to say, but now was not the time such remarks. “Put the station on full combat alert, all crews report to their stations, docked vessels are to prep for combat maneuvers immediately, deploy mecha, charge the reserve shield batteries, and send those traitorous BASTARDS to the DEEPEST PITS OF HELL!�

Mentally Yuudai kicked himself that he had been caught off guard, he had not even bothered to assess the strength of the enemy force; at the academy such a mistake could have gotten him expelled, or at least severely beaten. He continued to give orders, but his heart and his mind told him he had been beaten, only his pride refused to give up. “Damn!� he thought, “With all the intelligence he receives the Grand Admiral must have known this would happen… so he was trying to silence me after all. Clever bastard…�

It was no longer anger that griped him, he accepted his fate, and that he would never get the revenge his heart and pride demanded. He watched as in the gaseous maelstrom, made even more beautiful by the brilliance of the Sornei weapons, his fleet was torn asunder; and he waited, in silence, as the instillation’s shield collapsed, for the first, and the last time.

[Arizona Nova]

-=ISRV The Invisible Hand

"Their shields are down sir... also, we have a message on the system."

The High Admiral didn't even blink. "Firing of the meson projectors will commence." He regarded the gas giant outside coldly. "The words of the dead hardly matter."

He clicked a small hand communicator, bringing it to a fleet-wide channel, and brought it up to his mouth. "Attention, lock in all MP targeting computers to attached coordinates here," he said, giving it another click. Instantly the Sornei fleet received a readout of the station's design, and points illuminated for where the projectors were to hit - all of them inside.

"Remaining vessels," he continued, "Target points within the Nobuseri fleet itself. Here," he said, clicking it once more, "are schematics for their critical systems. Once it is apparent that everything Nobuseri has been rendered inert, all ships are to jump to Rally Point Midway and await further instructions. Absalom out."

All across the fleet, housed within the giant armored domes often protruding from the Sornei hulls, the meson projectors were already at work. To the unobservant eye they looked nothing more than decoration, or perhaps some subsystem. They were all charged, and now their advanced targeting computer sought out the target. Firing them, as with the missiles, was not a grand, loud, bright affair. Mesons, after all, did not interact with matter, and thus passed through their own housing as they were guided along by the projectors, and through the small holes made in the energy shields, with little report. To the Nobuseri it may have looked like the enemy ships were giving them a reprieve, perhaps opening up the floor for discussion. This was not the case. The mesons sped along, artificially maintained until inside the now shieldless Nobuseri stations and ships. Then the projectors turned off. No longer maintained from without, the mesons began to decay. Explosively. With the force of nuclear weapons, at all the weakest spots within the internal structure of the ships and stations.

If, perhaps, some little unseen electronic eye had come to watch the whole proceedings, it would have looked on the whole a most unusual affair. Sornei ships arrive, but then look to do nothing. Nonetheless explosions rippled along the hulls of the Nobuseri until their shields finally gave out with a flash, all across their fleet. Then it would look as if the Sornei vessels had simply sat there some more, and as if to oblige their presence, the area's Nobuseri military assets had as one exploded violently, like cans that had been filled with firecrackers and sealed. Down in the gas giant explosions ripped through the superstructure, and though armored to a tee, its engineering was not as solid. Ripped to pieces and powerless, the remaining chunks of metal plummeted into the raging core of the gas giant. Then, with a twinkling, the Sornei vessels vanished back into the void, leaving but aught behind them.

[Arizona Nova]

-=Nomramis Mountain, Baramua

Far beneath the shining blue expanses of Baramua seas a group of hundreds of Sornei engineers worked in silence, encased within their bulky pressure suits in the inky depths, lights sweeping from their helmets and surveying the ocean floor. A group of them were huddled around something that would look to the untrained eye to be a heavy PPC cannon, but actually was a high powered energy drill.

Another engineer slowly lumbered near to the drill and waved at the group.

"The repulsors are all in place around the mountain," he announced into his communicator. "We're ready to start cutting when you are."

"Acknowledged," replied his commander. "Starting network - repulsors connected. Starting the drill..."

The heat sink coils ringing the barrels began to glow, and the water around it instantly boiled and bubbled, and then the drill fired a brilliant, thin jet of plasma into the sea. It quickly impacted into the mountain's base.

"Cutting has begun," said the expedition's commander.

The expedition sat in silence as the drill did its work. As chunks of rock blew out from under the mountain from the heat, the repulsors quickly took over, holding the mountain in place, until some hours later the drill had completed its work. The mountain hovered in place, the repulsors whirring furiously as they held it up.

"Repulsors to full power," crackled the commander's voice over the radio, "And begin lifting the mountain."

Slowly the ponderous height began to rise. Water rushed past the assembled engineers, and many struggled to maintain their footing in the current, as tons of water was displaced as the mountain went higher and higher.

Soon another report came in on the radio: "Mountain is at altitude. Flipping the pancake; hold on, it could get a little bit bumpy.

Inch by inch, the mountain began to up-end. Stones, boulders, dirt and all sorts of detritus began to fall off as it began this last turn. This most critical part wore most on the minds of the engineers - if the mountain lost its integrity at this point, the whole process would have to start over again. It had to have just the right internal consistency to hold up upside down as well as right-side up. The mountain hit ninety degrees, and the repulsors paused momentarily to allow the team to survey it. So far, no major problems. The last ninety degrees ticked away slowly, as tons of debree showered off the mountain's nearly down-turned face onto the sea-bed below. Finally, it was upside down. The repulsors stepped back down, water boiling up from their red-hot heat sinks.

"Mountain is down-turned and suspended," crackled the commander's voice. "We'll keep it in position unt..."

Suddenly, the mountain began to drop.

"Whats wrong?" barked the commander into his communicator.

"Repulsor bank 12 has given out, sir," came the reply.

"Then increase output on the rest by ten percent until we can get a new one in, on the double! I'm not losing this one!"

The mountain stabilized, its fall ending almost as quickly as it had begun.

"Alright..." said the commander warily. "Mountain looks stable. Barring further mechanical failure, this one should hold. Leave it for the night, then we'll begin sounding work tomorrow to fortify its internal geometry further. Good work men."

[Central Facehuggeria]

OOC:

I like it!

[Kreshh]

OCC: this may be my favorite post evar!

Katsurou cursed as the weapon cascaded through his critical systems. He estimated roughly two seconds of functionality before his conditioned response initiated a self-destruct sequence, only enough time to move about 400 meters at present inertia. Automatically he searched his surroundings for a target, someone to share his death with him, but to no avail. He cursed once more as the darkness took him.

It was any easy mistake to make, and once made, difficult to evade; to assume that an opponent, apparently destroyed, could not make one final, desperate, vengeful strike.

Katsurou had cleaved the stubborn bastard into two nearly symmetrical halves, but, whether by conditioned response, some last remnant of functionality, or sheer malice, he had still managed to target and deploy a liquid metal claw directly into Katsurou’s ‘chest.’ He had seen it, or its likeness, many times before. It was usually a fault of youth or inexperience, some brash and reckless fool attacking without care for his own defense; not something an old soldier like him should fall victim to.

He wondered how long it would take to live this down, and waited for the simulation to end.


Ever since Katsurou had been offered mechanization 14 years ago, on account of a crippling plasma accident, this is how he had spent most of his time. For two out of every three hours he trained. The remaining time had been consumed on a variety of missions… mostly long patrols or intimidating some hopelessly outclassed peon for additional food, resources, or whatever else the Shogunate was demanding of the reprobates; or, as now, waiting for combat simulations to begin anew, in the wake of ‘death.’

All in all it was a pretty mundane existence; though, thinking back on his human youth, it was never advertised as such. Part of him wondered if this wasn’t done on purpose, perhaps in the hope that, in combat, fear will give way to excitement at the promise of a brief escape from the endless monotony that was their lives. Or perhaps it was just a symptom of a lack of creativity in the admiralty.

Whatever the case, the side effects were obvious. The raw power: the power to deal death on an enormous scale by mere whim. The confidence: confidence generated by endless training, and machine enhanced skill. And the boredom: the boredom of tedium unending. All of these things brought to the mecha a desire for combat which bordered on the insane. Endlessly they waited for it, none among their number gave any thought to danger; death was a possibility, of course, but if your life holds no meaning then you’re as good as dead already. And now it appeared that the wait was nearly at an end.

For the last few weeks their training simulations had focused mainly on orbital assaults, something Blue Squad was, by mandate, pretty good at anyway. Typically, this type of intensive single-scenario training only took place before a combat mission. Reason enough to be slightly optimistic, the entire squad was a little on edge in anticipation of deployment orders.

Katsurou’s comm. subsystem alerted him to an upcoming squad briefing. It was most likely just a routine critique of everyone’s performance, and nothing more. He tried not to get his hopes up.

Blue 0: All right you lazy bastards, listen up. We’ve got orders.

It was Captain Kazuo speaking. As the life expectancy of most mecha could be very short, or, for an unfortunate few, very long – sometimes spanning decades – standing policy was to refer to them by unit number rather then name. No point in having to memorize the names of so many dead comrades. Of course, in reality everybody knew each other’s names anyway.

Blue 0: As you’ve probably heard, two hours ago Southern Fleet Headquarters was destroyed by those damn traitorous Sornei.

Blue 21: What, when the fuck did that happen!?

Blue 3: Umm… two hours ago. Seriously, don’t you ever pay attention to Fleet Broadcasts?

Blue 21: I was busy configuring my conditioned response to impale Blue 7.

Part of Katsurou was relieved that the bastard had at least spent some time planning out his death; he would have been pissed if it were a mere accident.

Blue 0: Yes, well anyway command has chosen to deploy our squad for an immediate counter attack.

Blue 6: Our target?

The digital image of a planet was conjured within the collective minds of the squad, complete with ample sensory data, including all the various electromagnetic spectra normal humans were blind to… the bastards. It wasn’t that Katsurou was ungrateful for all the useful applications that x-ray or infrared vision allowed him, it’s just that women had somehow become less interesting now that he could see through them. His lack of genitalia may have had something to do with it too… although he had heard somewhere that there were certain black market upgrades available for that. He might look into it if he ever had any free time, which he never did.

Blue 0: This is New Constantinople, Ilë Sornë’s largest population center.

Blue 4: Looks pretty well defended, a direct attack would be suicide.

A moment of stunned silence passed at the hearing this normally hot-headed warrior’s out-of-character tenor before, upon realizing his mistake, he corrected himself:

Blue 4: Not that that bothers me… just seems kinda pointless is all.

Blue 0: Right… well, unfortunately command won’t let us fight them all.

It was a joke… probably. With the Captain one did sometimes wonder. Nobuseri liked their commanders to be professional, but also a little bit mad. Kazuo exemplified both.

The digital image focused in upon a visage of a large gate-like structure, as a plethora of new data regarding the object’s various subsystems, defenses, weakness, and so on swirled in around it.

Blue 0: This is our target, intelligence says the Sornei call it ‘the Gate.’

Blue 3: Not very creative are they?

Blue 9: Well they did pick a fight with us, how smart could they be?

Blue 6: Would you two just shut up and pay attention.

Blue 9: Bite my enormous metal ass.

Blue 6: Odd… just last night your mother said the same thing…

Blue 0: Both of you shut up, or I swear I’ll have the Shogunate melt you down into dildos, and then sodomize every one of your relatives – living or dead – with your remains! Understood?

Blue 6: Yes sir!

Blue 9: Roger.

You had to admit it, Captain Kazuo knew how to make a threat.

Blue 0: Now where was I, oh right. Our FTL insertion point is here.

The image again modified itself to display a new set of coordinates; it continued to change and adapt as the Captain elaborated on their orders.

Blue 0: We then have 22 seconds to match orbital velocity with the target. I know… it’s a long time to be exposed, but command is worried about orbital debris – satellites and whatnot – that might be close to the target, so, unless you like being pelted by objects moving much faster then you, it can’t be helped.

Blue 0: Now our call-sign for this mission is ‘Poison,’ along with ‘Rhetoric’ our squad will be spearheading the attack, there will also be an undisclosed number of squads operating in a supporting capacity.

Blue 8: Undisclosed? So one then, is what you’re saying?

Blue 17: Yeah, remember that one mission at Savei when we got a squad with only… like… six guys left in it?

Blue 0: Oh quit whining, at least we have support this time. Besides, I’d rather go in there with a small and mobile force anyway. Now damn it, stop interrupting me!

Blue 0: Okay, our job is simple: we get close to the thing, cut some holes in it, set off a few bombs, and then prep some time delay explosives for remote activation.

Blue 4: Yeah, about that sir… Now you know I love to make things go boom, but unless we’re about to get a serious upgrade, then I’m not currently packing anything with enough punch to make a significant dent in that thing… So what the fuck are we using? I’m not a big fan of ESC bombs after what happened to Blue 16.

Blue 0: Relax gents we’ve got these:

A digital rendering of a canister like object appeared before them.

Blue 0: Chaos in a can, gentlemen… Inertial charges.

Blue 14: Seems a little small, don’t it?

It was something of an odd comment, considering that only 3 of them had capacity enough to house the thing internally. He clarified:

Blue 14: I mean, aren’t they usually used in torpedoes?

Blue 0: Yeah, commands been working on miniaturizing them for a while now, I’m sure. Apparently they’re not as powerful, or less precise, or something. Anyway, there’s no focusing mechanism, so any inertia that is generated is going to be completely random. Probably won’t blow the thing up, as the forces involved tend to be neutralized on a large scale, but they might cause a few cracks in the hull and chase, and, of course, all the electronics will be completely fried. Should be hell to repair… oh, and since we’re all mostly electronics… don’t be anywhere near this thing when it goes off, you got me?

Blue 4: So what, we plant these things and then a battleship will come to pick us up? Or is this a strait suicide mission? Cause, unless one of yawl is holding out on me, we don’t got a FTL…

Blue 0: No, actually where ‘Rhetoric’ comes in. Once they hack the gate, we’re going to be going through it.

Blue 6: You’re kidding, will that even work?

Blue 0: Command assures me that they have so many contingency viruses and hacking methods that there is no way it will fail. Course, they also said that there would only be light resistance at Nebu Clan’s Sidewinder Base… you remember, back when there were about twice as many of us, so who the hell knows. Anyway, if it works, we all go through, if it doesn’t we all die… simple enough right?

Katsurou wasn’t much of an expert on FTL, in his human life he had been a gunner, but something about this didn’t quite add up. He decided to ask, despite his usually reserved demeanor.

Blue 7: So is there a friendly gate that we can jump to then? Or can these things just send you anywhere you want, like our stuff?

Blue 0: Huh, I’m glad you asked… or destination is Kelwynd, the Ilë Sornë capital system. Once there, we’re going to fuck over that gate exactly the same way.

Blue 9: What? You mean we have to do the whole thing twice?

Blue 0: Look on the bright side, Blue 9, by then you’ll already have plenty of experience.

Blue 8: Yeah but, by then we’ll have lost the element of surprise, plus won’t their whole damn fleet just be waiting for us on the other side? I mean, it is their capitol.

Blue 0: Two things: First of all, they probably won’t be expecting us to go through the gate, we are attacking it after all. Plus if they do have a fleet there, they’ll probably try to send it through the gate to reinforce New Constantinople once they hear of the attack, so there’s a good chance we’ll leave them behind, and once the bombs go off they’ll all be stuck on the other side. Also, the gate is their one means of rapid communication, so if we take it out quick they may not even hear of the attack until we show up on their end.

Blue 3: That’s three things…

Blue 0: Do you want to be a dildo?

Blue 3: Err… no sir.

Blue 0: Then shut up.

Katsurou wasn’t satisfied.

Blue 7: So what then? We just die on that end?

Blue 0: Naw, apparently command has rigged up their own little gate, and once we’re done with the one on Kelwynd ‘Rhetoric’ will hax the system so we can jump to it. Assuming command ain’t just saying that to make us feel better.

Blue 8: Your confidence inspires me, sir.

Blue 0: Whatever… Now anyway, intelligence has a few suggestions. Mostly just obvious shit, like ‘look out for point-defense turrets.’ But there’s some good stuff too.

A series of vessels appeared before them, some of them were marked in colorful patters; with images of various foods, or products and whatnot, flanked by an unpleasantly ugly alien script. Others were more spartan.

Blue 0: I assume you’re all familiar with Ilë Sornë military designs, so I’m skipping over that part. These are cargo ships. Intel says there’ll be a lot of them moving in and around the gate, I know it sounds cowardly but we’re to use them as cover… just think of them as debris… it’ll be true soon enough.

The lineup moved on to other, more streamlined vessels.

Blue 0: We’re also to be on the lookout for these – personnel transports or something – command calls them ‘civilian vessels.’ Apparently the Sornei will be especially reluctant to shoot at or near them… don’t know exactly why. Any questions?

Blue 6: We’re all going to die, aren’t we Cap?

Blue 0: Yeah, probably… anyway, deployment is in one hour.

***

Katsurou couldn’t feel the distinctive pre-FTL jump tingle that had always filled him with a mixture of anticipation and dread back when he was a human. Still, somehow he instinctively knew the battleship Blue Squad had been squatting in was about to throw him into the fold… to what would likely be his death. He welcomed it.

A moment of nothingness passed, and when he found himself to be conscious once again it was over the cloud shrouded gunmetal expanse of a world and city both. His sensors beckoned him, for a moment he ignored their call. It was peaceful, floating quietly in the darkness, and there might never be another chance to do so.

He refocused, his mind now concerned itself only with the task before him. His thrusters strained to match speed with the target, in a swinging motion his blade deployed – 15 meters of solid death yearning for a taste of the enemy’s steel.

“Time for some carnage!�

[Arizona Nova]

-=New Constantinople Exosphere Defense Station 9A

Brett Ildefonso had been on edge for the past few hours. A while ago defense status had gone up, and it seemed pretty apparent that an all-out Nobuseri attack was expected - and that they would be coming at the civilian centers. A number of capital ships had hidden themselves in the lower atmosphere of New Constantinople and other worlds in order to try and meet the Nobuseri there, as all part of the Admiralty's plans. Their ships would go down there, find that their superiority was not only matched but even outmatched, fall back to space to leave the defenders behind, and be smashed by High Admiral Absalom, who would jump in and surround them.

It wasn't working out that way.

He watched as the small bogeys made their way into sensor range - Nobuseri mecha. They were in the wrong place though - they weren't supposed to be out here. He waited for the rest of their fleet to appear, but it was never forthcoming. This didn't make any sense. Then the mecha began to attack - attack the stargate!

Brett began to panic - this was not a planned contingency. The gate was critical to industrial traffic (typically that hauling ITS-unfriendly material), military traffic and public transport, so having it go down would not be optimal, but why would they shoot so low, especially after having one of their command centers blown completely away?

He quickly dispatched a message to High Admiral John Hyce. The reply came back near-instantly - Second Fleet would hold in position. This attack had to be a diversion. Divert as much power to point defense as wise, deploy fighters, and mop up the incursion.

Brett relayed the order, but the nagging feeling that things were not going as planned still nagged at him.

-=561st Fighter Squadron, New Constantinople International Stargate Fighter Base

Arnold Pehr swooped and grabbed up his helmet as he began his jog to the hangar. The whole squadron had just been greenlighted for instant deployment, and if the tremors reverberating through the whole structure of the starbase was any indication it was the gate itself that was under attack. Every other unit on board had also been greenlighted, so it looked like they weren't getting any capital support. That was peachy.

He ascended the ladder to his fighter's cockpit with his typical dexterity and quickness that had earned him his "Monkey" call-sign, ran checks and pulled into the launch slot. It fired, and for a moment he was squished to his seat until the inertial compensators came online. Then he was in open space. Far below a number of bogeys - obviously the Nobuseri mecha - were hard at work, hacking at the stargate. He gunned the engines and dived, opening up with strafing.

[Kreshh]

Katsurou activated his burst shield as a stray series of PD rounds crossed his path, it probably wasn’t necessary, given their caliber, velocity, and angle, but experience had taught him not be too conservative with shield use, despite the slow rate of recharge. Better to use it and not need it, then to need it and not use it.

He surveyed the battlefield. The PD had been more of a setback then they had expected, and now enemy fighters were showing up… not good, at a distance those things could be pests, though he heard one of the support squads was redeploying to the hangers so as to engage them as they launched. That was always fun to watch… a little fighter comes zipping out of its acceleration ladder only to find a mecha waiting for it with a 10+ meter sword… it was like batting practice. Katsurou only half-hoped that his allies were smart enough to use cluster missiles instead.

Despite all that, things were going remarkably well. Blue 8’s dire prediction as to the state of their reinforcements had, fortunately, been wrong, and they had arrived with a force of roughly 300... still pathetic, but at least not quite so pathetic. Blue squad’s progress thus far had been slow, but steady, and Katsurou had been among the first to plant his charges. Now it was just a matter of waiting around for the other guys to finish up, and for ‘Rhetoric’ to do their thing.

Still, where the fuck was the enemy? He had been expecting far more resistance then this. Were they all on a damn vacation or something? He supposed he could count himself lucky, as the mission had become considerably less suicidal in their absence. Hell, if he wanted to he could probably just fly back to Nobuseri space on his own… sure it might take a few millennia, but it didn’t look like anyone would stop him. In any case it was disconcerting, especially the thought of what might be lying in wait for them on the other side of that bloody gate…

Katsurou’s sensory subsystem alerted him to a point defense turret that had locked on to him. He didn’t really think about it much, just started maneuvering to intercept. Ignoring these things usually worked, but killing them was smarter in the long run, especially since he had no idea when, even if, they would be leaving.

Small little arching movements, done correctly, that was the best way to evade their fire all the way up to a few hundred meters. Of course, done incorrectly, it’s probably the best way there is to get yourself killed by PD fire, short of flying strait at them. He moved closer, then accelerated hard activating his shield as he did so. There was a brilliant shower of white light as the incoming rounds flashed against Katsurou’s shield; he deployed his sword, and decapitated the accursed mechanism in a single motion. He moved on, slightly irritated that he had been forced to rely on his shield, “if my timing had been better it wouldn’t have been necessary,� he thought, “fuck it, next time I’ll just use missiles.�

Blue 1: Alright boys, seeing as how I just got hit by a little piece of the captain, I’m taking over here.

Blue 9: Hey, bring me back a piece of him, will ya? I’m going to have the Shogunate melt it down into a dildo… the captain would have wanted it that way…

Blue 3: Oh, shut up.

Blue 9: Kiss-ass…

Blue 1: Yeah, well when you two are done blowing each other, ‘Rhetoric’ says we can get out of here.

Blue 8: You’re kidding… they actually pulled it off?

Blue 1: Well, I wouldn’t start congratulating them until we’re actually on the other side, but it looks that way.

Katsurou b-lined for the gate, he didn’t know what was on the other side, but he was damn sure he didn’t want to be here once those damn fighters started showing up in force. Besides, he was starting to get bored.