Utulien, Aduial

[The Cerberus Alliance]

"Warning! Above-nuclear detonation detected." A line spoken by the onboard computer was all the warning any mechwarrior in the Cerberan forces received. It was too late. Nick ordered all of his men to retreat at full speed, with all weapons power to the rear shields. This last-minute attmept to save themselves would save a few lives... hopefully.

The the blastwave hit. Those who turned too late or didn't have their shields up fell first. They either fell over from the force of the blast and exploded, or seemed to melt away as their armor and whatever shielding they may have had failed to handle the conditions.

Then it was over, as quickly as the event had begun. Only to have each and every single one of the machines collapse as soon as they stopped firing their jump jets. The blast had weakened their frames so much that they couldn't handle the stress of landing. Nicholas wasn't any exception. As he finally hit the ground, he heard the whine of straining metal through the from of his mech. Before he knew what was happening, the ground sped into his cockpit view, then the canopy shattered. Nick quickly pulled himself out of the rapidly compacting pilot seat, and jumped to the ground as his mech finished falling frontwards onto the ground.

It was a crash similar to what had happened to the rest of his remaining force. Some had been lucky enough to have the machine fall on it's side, or to just fall straight down after the legs gave out. Others had barely escaped from the same situation their Galaxy Commander had been in. Still, there were those that had not been so lucky, and had been killed in the cockpit, unable to escape from being crushed under the falling machinery. Of the 107 individuals that he had commanded, roughly twenty had survived, all of whome were down to their pilot gear.

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

Natalie pulled herself out of the wreck that had been her mech. She secured her helmet, before looking around. Behind the wreckage was a place that had once, at least to her, been the remains of some building. It's protection had been partially responsible for her survival. Looking elsewhere, away from the scorched-black corpse of the machine she had piloted, she saw similar remains of what had been Ark Three's mech. As she approached, she saw proof that he couldn't have survived. It was facing in the direction that the blast had come from. What would have been the cockpit canopy had completely shattered, and the interior was burned and melted to a point where, though it looked like the remains of something humanoid were in the seat, there was no way of knowing that WAS the seat. The only situation she could think of was that he had been entirely reliant on the building shielding them from the apocalyptic explosion. The building that didn't exist anymore.

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

"Admiral, we're reading distress signals from the planet's surface." The comm officer had been trying to figure out what was going on on the planet's surface for a while now. They explosion had made the entire crew of the Achilles pause, only able to stare in horror at the atrocity unfolding below them. When this information about there being possible survivors from the Cerberan forces was reported, Admiral Kennison himself breathed a sigh of relief before catching himself and asking for the bad news:

"How many signals, and where?" He asked his communications officer.
"I'm counting twenty-three in the location where the bulk of our army was located, and one where the resupply and evac team was going to be headed." With this response, the exact locations of the signals appeared on the holographic display.

Kennison paused, studying the display. "Has there been any com chatter about rescue efforts?"
"There's only been broadcasts involving the refugee ships we saw leaving the planet earlier."
"Well then get on the ESUS communications channels and try to set up a rescue team or something. Volunteer every dropship-type vehicle we have that's still able to make the round trip."

[Kanuckistan]

A dozen lightyears distant, a car approached a simple, tin can of a station, other craft gathered around one side - the slipgate it held facing the other. A scene being played out at several other of the hundred-plus similar, widely spaced 'cans scattered around the KAG base's vicinity.

Trusting his auto-pilot, Lars was in the back when it happened, running his armour through final checks, weapons still racked, as panicked calls came over the Theatre channels, and up ahead, cars and shuttles began departing as boarders disembarked, and those parked nearby were recalled - others not bothering, leaping off the grav plating, throwing themselves away.

With a word, the auto-pilot shifted vector and accelerated, not wasting time to kill it's momentum. Raw silver flashed by, and then was past. Not a minute later the comms grew suddenly quiet, as a light flared behind him.

Those little tin cans, however, were designed with this in mind, facing the void, a no-fly zone, with air trapped by a shield just befor their gate. When the explosion came, little would make it through befor the gates failed, far-side vapour, near-side slag, and with little air to turn to plasma, blast directed into empty space, the ruined 'Can was almost recognisable in inferno's wake.

Thus most of those on this end would survive. Cold comfort, for the total loss of those beyond, perhaps, but Lars wasn't about to complain, even as a glance confirmed the other active gates in ruin.


--


Few KAG in the field retreated, even those civilians fighting with the Union armies found some of their number holding fast, a spontaneous rear-guard covering their allies fleeing for cover as the remnants of the enemy army - fewer still were putting their actual lives on the line, teleoperated avatars, gambling their wallet instead; good hardware wasn't cheap, afterall.

A handful survived.

One of whom made it into orbit.


---


The bridge grew quiet, silence interrupted only by muttered curses, but tho the devastation wrought was massive, Ch'cye has seen worse - had been there when the Justice destroyed the CorpSacian homewold, memorised the recorded atrocities of the Shivan War when such horrors were to be found in her daily brief.

None of which made this much easier to stomach.

"Back to your posts! Put out a call for aid, transports, everything! But if I were in charge, the bastards who did this would be regrouping for another attack - shoot us in the back while we're preoccupied. Maintain position and readiness - and get me the Sornei; under the circumstances, we should atleast be able to offer their non-combatants the umbrella of the Home Cluster's defences. I can't imagine the people would object to that."


----


Elsewhere, around the planet, freighters, SAR, and other volunteers - even a few enormous full-blown hospital ships - began arriving, having waited out the battle in nearby interstellar space; evacuation efforts were resumed in earnest, as calls went out for specialist equipment to stabilise the planet's environment, atleast keep it from freezing, until everyone who still drew breath could be pulled from the surface.

Search and Rescue operations would take weels, atleast.

[Skeelzania]

The flagbridge of the Turnadot was silent, hovering directly above the fiery crater carved from New Constantinople. Admiral Durer, along with Captain Desaix, stood with hands-clasped appraising the damage. The Admiral had transferred his flag from the decapitated Ishtar as soon as the enemy fleet had been routed. The pinnance had had no port holes, so he had missed the awesome destruction of the Imperiatus dreadnought.
They were alone on the bridge, the rest of the crew remaining at battle-stations deep within the ship. Only a cursory maintenance crew had been up before them, while the ship was oriented away from the planet. Trying to postpone the inevitable.

Desaix spoke first. “The commsmen already know. Couldn’t miss an event like that, the loss of all communications with the surface elements. As soon as general quarters is rescinded, the word will get out.�

“There’s no point in hiding it anyway.� Durer held up his left hand, trying to measure the scale of the crater. He made the calculations in his head, trying to see how far away one had have been from the ship to survive. “These Keeblers are more a threat than any of us imagined. We would have been damn near shot out of the sky if it wasn’t for allied support. And as for the Army. . .�

“The Generals will never give consent for a planetary invasion. God knows what they’d do if they were losing on their home turf.�

“Blow themselves straight to hell would be my guess.� Running a hand through his graying hair, the Admiral turned to go back down to the battle bridge. “And God help us if they have any more of those torpedoes. The High Command is going to go Ork when the report reaches them.� Durer turned back to Desaix and smiled. “I wish you could be the one to deliver it, but the Ishtar has to get home. But you did good up here. I’ll make sure people know.�

The true cost of the Battle of New Constantinople would make itself apparent in the coming days. Among the Sternmarine, every ship had suffered enough damage to warrant weeks in spacedock, while many of the lighter elements had been destroyed outright. And much to Durer’s chagrin, most of the damage they had caused had come after a foreign Artificial Intelligence, an Aper, had started calling the shots.

But it was the Army and FS that paid the highest butcher’s bill. Of the five thousand-strong detachment from the 3rd FS, 420 were listed as active, 975 wounded, and 3,605 MIA or presumed dead. The last number would shrink a bit as S&R took effect, but the Division had been essentially halved.

Of the 296th Division, the casualty rate was approaching 85%. Majorgeneral Ekard had survived, losing the lower part of his left arm in the endgame. Surprisingly, his counterpart in the 301st had also survived, leaving Fürst-General Hrazany the highest ranking casualty of the fight. Equally surprising, given the beating they had received, the 301st’s casualty rates ran very similar to the 296th. Reading the AARs, Durer could only conclude that the survivors hadn’t had enough time to get caught up in the final Imperiatus attack and explosion.

The molten red wax dripped down and Durer smashed his seal into it. He handed his personal report to Lieutenant von Zemstaldt and gave her a slow salute. “Good journey back to Solomon, von Zemstaldt. For your sake I pray they do not shoot the messenger.�

[Allanea]

Alexander Kirillovich Kazansky, President of Allanea, Count de Centreville, Fieldmarshal of the Republic, Sword of the Queen, Liberator of Torontonians, was annoyed. For it had appeared that, for once, his friend Kevin had been faster on the uptake than he had been. The leader of the corporation that employed one in twenty Allaneans and the owner of possibly the world's largest fortune had already reacted to the disaster of New Constantinople.

Even now, ten trillion dollars' worth of stargate equipment was being shipped to the Arizonans, to aid in the evacuation of their civilians and the defense of their society against the Departed. Another trillion was transferred in cash. Thus, Kevin would benefit in three fashions – he would expand his stargate network, he would help defeat the Departed – and of course, he would receive some blueprints to some old UFS ships. In retrospective, this proved almost minor, given the scale of what was going on.

But now, he had to do something as well – and do it, he would.

Naturally, it would take time for him to act upon it in his capacity as President. Votes had to be taken. Measures had to be debated. The legislative process needed for civilian aid would be long and grueling – and though the Allanean law allowed him to avoid asking Congress for permission to deploy military forces, these forces were being tied up at the Shivan and Federation Fronts.

But as a private citizen, Alexander Kazansky could do quite a lot.

Heinlein supertransports were being diverted from their usual routes in the Outer Rim colonies – the President had rented ten of them with his own dough, unleashing merely a small portion of that famous loot from Operation Ringworld. Soon, the giant ten-mile cylinders would begin to burst out of hyperspace in orbit of New Constantinople. Such was the first Allanean aid to reach New Constantinople, but more would come soon.

[center]* * *[/center]

The President would not be the only one who cared.

In the Departed strike, the New Constantinople office of Liberty Times was almost completely destroyed, but the survivors sent terrible reports. Images of the ruins, of the suffering, of the horror were soon in every Allanean household. On the front page of Liberty-City was the image of an injured, shell-shocked five-year-old, looking in numbed horror at the bleeding husk of her right arm, holding it in her left.

The headline screamed one word, written in giant, dark letters:

HELP

And the Allaneans did send help. Dozens of commercial freighters – of sizes much smaller than the gigantic Heinleins, and even several thousand tiny personal spacecraft – the so-called SSUV's, the tiny space-borne mobile homes favored by Allaneans – arrived in orbit. They began to take aboard families, share medical and emergency aid, and do their best to assist the populace.

The Sisters of Liberty sent forth their humanitarian Orders – those that were not in fact dedicated to slaughtering the enemies of the Messenger, but to curing the ill, helping the injured, assisting the homeless. In orbit of New Constantinople, their giant Fortress-Monasteries loomed, their cargo holds filled with the injured and the disposessed.

And yet there were others. The Strippers for Liberty (an organization completely distinct from the Messenger's bolter-carrying nuns) held a charity show in Neo-Dallas. In Liberty-City, the Royal Opera held a concert – and the proceeds were sent immediately to benefit the people of new Constantinople. In frontier churches in the Libertas Cluster, in late-night acid parties on Zarahemla and the Feanoring Planets, in official dinners on Julia, hats were passed, checks, gold bars, credchips and decasheep were collected.

For Allanea had been asked for help, and Allanea gave all she could.

[Arizona Nova]

It had not taken long for the shockwave of New Constantinople's destruction to reverberate to every corner of the Sornei empire, and shake it to its foundations. Grimly, the remaining fleet set to the task of federalizing civilian transports and ships, quickly hunting down the largest bulk freighters and civilian transports they could find, promising what compensation they could to the captains - promises of living on government dispensation for the rest of their lives, awards and medals and prestige, but all of it conditional on final Sornei victory. Yet the military, and everyone, now knew that a victory where this beautiful vision would be possible was distant, and the chances weak. The promises were always underscored with the threat of force; for certain ships, if the government had to storm it, they would. There was not a luxury liner too luxurious nor a bulk ore freighter too lowly. If it could hold hundreds comfortably, and thousands at need, it was pressed into service.

On Kelwynd, a panic was slowly beginning to grow as the government bureacracy hurriedly pulled up roots from its physical bureacracy there. Soon the government halls and municipal centers were ghostly, empty, and occupied only by small forces of soldiers dispatched solely to protect the buildings from looters and thieves. Anyone who lived on the world was urged, if they had the ability to, to immediately evacuate the planet on any craft they might possess or be able to share, and report to the nearest of the refugee fleets forming up. And it was the same all over the Anikari part of the Sornei empire, at least those places large enough to draw significant attention from trade and politics. It was the most massive movement of manpower and civilians ever seen in Ile Sorne, and even Arizona Nova since its foundation.

Only one species did not flinch, nor take any seen preperation. Arenumberg stayed still in the flurry of chaos descending on the nation. Thalassi, Carvinia, Kistoria, Sylvania, in all these places the elves remained. Yet business did not continue as usual. Those few bold Anikari that lived in those places, who had been summoned back out by the government for reasons they did not know, noticed that an aura of sadness seemed to pervade the loyal elven worlds. Their friends went about resigned, yet resolute in appearance. They refused to leave, despite all urging and pleas from emigrant friends.

Around Rhuckh, Baramua, and the moon of Joyous Gard, the military reformed and crystallized. The store-houses were emptied, and the systems were mined and trapped out to the outermost orbits, and if anything larger than a motor vehicle moved in the blackness, the sensor systems knew right away. Nothing could slip in unannounced, though not because of the precautions, but because of the need.

-=One Week Later: S&R Squad Donovan, New Constantinople

Anandil crunched through the debris of New Constantinople's surface, clad in a heavy hazmat suit, with a squad of marines and one of the surviving local Paladin regiments. While every planet was supposed to have a sizeable number, New Constantinople had been lax in enforcing the draft codes for the paladins, and as such there were precious few, and they were concentrated very far from the landing zone of the Departed vessel, now turned crater. Yet these had survived, and now lent what help they could in taking federal forces around the ruins of the ecumenopolis in the search for survivors.

They were seventy miles north from the primary blast zone, and the area, while still relatively undamaged, was also spotted with hazardous materials. The blast zone couldn't even be traversed, not even with hazmat suits. Something lingered there which defied the protective material, and anyone who walked around in the crater came back poisoned, shortly slipped into a coma, and then died.

Anandil had personally volunteered to take part in this sweep. The first part of the S&R operations had been devoted specifically to locating VIPs, such as the UFS CEO, who had gone missing in the chaos of the siege. He'd been found, or his ship at least, and it was destroyed. Precious few fared better. Yet this search was of personal interest to Anandil.

The squad came to the target building now. It was a condominium, and though it may once have been some bright white or yellow, it was now dark grey, covered in ash and dust from top to bottom. From what he could see, anyway. The planet was bathed in pitch black darkness, a chill night which had fallen within days of the destruction of the ship. The lights of the squad played up and down the deserted streets, sliding over the debris that lay in it, some which was the rubbish from the day of the siege, and some of it shrapnel from the explosion, tossed high into the atmosphere only to be carried down by wind and chance here.

Anandil's heart sank as they came to the entrance. The main door had been forced open, and not by looters or thieves. A glance revealed that it had been blasted in.

The squad hurried up the stairs, coming to the condominium in question, lights bouncing all over the stairwell. Anandil led the way in, and glanced around. There was no one, and it looked as if it had been abandoned for some time. Looking down, he saw a tea set on the table, and the shards of a cup on the floor nearby, an old stain already setting in above it on the wall.

"God damn them," he said. "God damn them all. They took the old man."

"You're sure this is the place?" asked Anandil to the lead paladin. "This is Franz Aram's condominium?"

"Positive, your highness," he said, through the deep blue of his visor. "I lived around here before enlisting. I used to see him at the local grocery."

Anandil sat down, before the tea set. "He was my professor," he said. "He was my mentor. They had to do all this, and then take him away on top of it."

"We've all lost a lot of people, highness," said the paladin. "We have to get moving though, there are a lot more people to check, and all on foot for this sector. You want me to radio you a transport?"

"No," said Anandil, getting up, looking at the tea set sadly. "I'll go with you. But do get Anikar on the line. She was particularly worried about Aram when she heard he was a no-show."

-=The Fist of the Empress, In orbit of New Constantinople (SPECTRE online)

Anikar read the message and sighed. So they had taken Franz. If they had wanted to kill him, they would merely have done so and left the body like with the last two. It was a good and a bad thing. He was still alive, probably, but in the hands of the enemy. And why would they take him except for needing him for something?

She sat back down to pen a new missive. The situation and the needs of the Sornei state were now massively different, and the ESUS needed to know.

[center]The Empire of

Ilë Sornë[/center]

Ilë Sornë sends the ESUS its greetings once again, but they come forth out of the darkest hour in our nation's history - Ilë Sornë, and Arizona Nova and Arenumberg both.

New Constantinople has just emerged, physically intact, from an enemy siege. A massive force, numbering in the thousands and precious few of them shorter than a kilometer, suddenly attacked her with vicious and brutal efficiency. The allied fleet here, consisting of the vessels of ESUS nations such as Raysia, Kanuckistan, The Cerberus Alliance, Telros, Skeelzania, and Zerstorendar, all barely managed to weather the storm. Only by the intervention of one of our digisents, in stealing valuable tactical information and aiding in tactical coordination did any of us - including myself - survive.

Yet the planet has been desolated. An enemy ship, though maimed, made it to the surface, and when it became inevitable that the ship be captured or destroyed, it detonated its reactors as destructively as possible. The resulting explosion was visible from orbit, and an ash cloud has spread throughout the atmosphere, blocking out all sunlight. The world may be uninhabitable for many lifetimes.

The specifics of this war have also changed. It is no longer a contest between Ilë Sornë and some irascible fringe colonies. The Heaven's Belt Alliance was nothing more, it would seem, than puppets in a far greater, far older scheme. The true enemy, which blew the spark of discontent into flame, is the Areian Imperiatus - also known as, "The Departed" - a break-away segment of Arenumberg who vanished after the great Khurganate War of 959. From wherever they came to rest after those dark days, they have returned, no better than the evil they fled.

Their object is not, however, me or Arizona Nova, primarily. Our existence is an inconvenience, but we are not a threat. New Constantinople was, to them, but a display of force gone slightly awry, due to unforeseen circumstances. The true purpose of the Departed is to avenge themselves on Arenumberg, and any who try to aid or assist her. For those who have no love for the elven peoples, this may seem a boon, but know this: the destruction of Arenumberg would be the maiming of Ilë Sornë, and whatever you think of Arenumberg, it is the devil you know. Maybe the Departed would be content with wiping them out, but if they returned, or never left, the results would be catastrophic. The Departed have no scruples about wiping out "lesser" species, and have the callousness and power to match the greatest "local" atrocities. No ground here is sacred enough to not be burned by them for simple sport.

No single force, nor even the combined force of a band of nations, can stand against this enemy. Yet all hope is not lost. During the battle, valuable tactical information was stolen from them. Even so, Ilë Sornë cannot afford in materials or manpower another such siege. As such, our forces are moving underground. Against such an enemy, only guerilla tactics have any chance of success. Combined with what we have learned of them, coordinated guerrilla strikes on a preoccupied attacking enemy force stand a good chance of striking a painful blow to their forces.

Make no mistake. Though battered, Ilë Sornë will prevail against this foe, by hook or by crook. Any who take advantage of this momentary upset will assuredly feel our bite. If not ours, then they will have the Imperiatus to deal with as their new neighbors, as nothing short of our utter destruction will see us wiped us out.

To those who have stood with us, I can but offer my humblest thanks. You have stood with us in battle and peace, and many of your own have given the ultimate sacrifice, and shed your blood on soil not your own, and given an outpouring of support for a people many of you have never seen and only half-knew existed. There is nothing so eloquent to say, nor a monument great enough to build, to justly remember your heroic and selfless actions.

[Allanea]

[center]Official Message of the President of the United States[/center]

Freemen of Allanea!

Citizens of Ilë Sornë!

Citizens of all ESUS states!

Ladies and gentlemen, our noble allies the Sornei are under attack. Even now as I speak, the ruins of New Constantinople are still smoking, even now the search and rescue teams dig through the rubble, struggling for every heartbeat that can still be heard, every cry for help, every life that can be saved. Even now, upon a dozen worlds, people mourn for their loved ones, for their relatives, friends, husbands, wives, fathers and sons, mothers and daughters.

But now is not only a time for mourning. It is not even mostly a time for mourning. Now it is the time to fight and kill, to take the fight to the Departed, to crush, kill, defeat and destroy the xenophobic scum until not even the last vestige of their pathetic excuse for a society remains standing.

I call now upon the Navy, to prepare its orbital bombardment weaponry and thermostellar devices, to burn these foul creatures from the surface of their planets wholesale. I call now upon the valiant Army and Marines, to drive their bayonets through the very foul hearts of the Areian Imperatus, and to crush its head with their rifle-stocks. I call now upon every soldier and sailor in Allanea, and I give him one command and one command alone: Kill them all. Let none survive.

Soldiers, you are now Delta Zeta Four clear on all Imperiatus personnel, wherever you may find them, and the entire Imperiatus culture. Purge them all.

For every tear of a Sornei child, we will shed an ocean of Imperatus blood.

This is the judgement of the Freemen.

That is all.

May God have mercy on the citizens of Ilë Sornë in this dark hour.

May God bless Allanea.[/i]

[center]* * *[/center]

Two battlegroups of the Allanean army were still deployed in expectation of Shivan combat, and one was fighting against the Federation. But the Allaneans had other resources as well. Alexander Kazansky's Red Fleet was prepared and waiting, in combination with another battlegroup of the Allanean Army. Finally, and unusually, hundreds of thousands of Allanean Airborne troops were now prepared for orbital insertion.

Regularly, guerilla combat was not the stuff of space warfare, but now that it was, the Allaneans were prepared for it. And they would fight.

[The Cerberus Alliance]

Doran set his copy the message from Ilë Sornë down on his desk next to a copy of Admiral Kennison's report on the damages and casualties suffered during the battle.

A few hours before, the commander of all ground forces in the protectorate, Aridan Drake, had charged into his office in a rage that the Observer had not seen from his old friend in years. He was upset over the death of a member of his family, a grandson, and the mental state of his granddaughter when he had gotten a chance to speak with her. The best Irin Doran could say was that his own visions, the predictions that had propelled him into complete command of the Cerberus Alliance, had failed him.

According to Kennison's report, Cerberan forces had come out better than he would have expected, with the battle actually ending with enough of the fleet surviving in a condition that could theoretically make the trip back home to allow for transport of all survivors. According to the message from Ilë Sornë, the allies had all taken similar or greater amounts of damage, especially with the ending of the ground battle. And here he was, not ever even dreaming that the battle would go the way it did. The Achilles, for the longest time the great flagship of the Protectorate's primary military force, had suffered damage enough to require a few days of a repair before it could make a safe journey home. The Odysseus-class WarShips, the old workhorses of the IPAF, that had accompanied it had either been completely destroyed, or had been damaged in such ways that they were all completely dependent now on the Achilles for transport, and in some cases just simple maneuvering. Of the fighters sent to the planet's surface, not a signle one was still operational, and less than a quarter of the pilots had survived. To see their troops in such a state, to have the pride of the Protectorate get beaten down like this, had generated great rage.

Irin remembered the meeting of the council this morning. A faction had already started on the council, petitioning every day to increase military funding and go to all-out war on these "Departed." If reports of the foreign AI's tactics during the battle were to be believed, then there would be methods that the Defense Forces could use against the aggressors, but not in the state of transition that they were in now. It would take time, time that some impatient, angry councilmen didn't want to sit through. For now, all the nation can do is provide as much help as possible to the other ESUS members, and work towards being ready for a full scale war as soon as possible.

[Skeelzania]

Diana ran her hand through her hair, stamping down a few errant strands in the uniform blackness. Well, mostly uniform. Since Durer’s report had arrived a week ago, she’d found several gray hairs.

“We’re ready whenever you are, Kaiserin.� She nodded curtly to the Cast-man, forgiving his presumption of a conversational tone. Judging by the jowls, he hadn’t been in the military in twenty years. In the business long enough for him to forget true discipline, but not long enough to move above conducting backstage legwork. “Initial tune-in is hot, damn hot,� continued the flunky. “Six hundred mill’ screens and rising! Haven’t seen this much since your Coronation��

“Stop wasting the Kaiserin’s time and get out of her way.� Diana’s consort loomed out of the backstage murk. She waited for them to be alone before gently reaching out for his hand.

“The man’s just enthusiastic. And it’s good news. I want Skeelzania to see this.�

“Didn’t need the guar and pony show when you sent the first fleet in.� Montague Archduke de Serrat stepped back behind her. He leaned down to her ear, even though her honor guard stood discretely back. “I still don’t like it. There’s too many in the Sternreich who’d like to see the Elves burn, and would gladly spare a match to the Imperiatus.�

“There are always too many idiots in a State.�

The heavy bronze doors opened out in front of them, and the air shook with the sound of fifteen hundred people rising to their feet. She walked to the center of the stage with Montague a step behind, a dozen Furstentumenschutze knights fanning out behind them before the doors swung shut. The stagelights immediately set her sweating underneath her own black uniform, the gold-plated bandolier beginning to dig into her shoulder. She shut it out and began.

“Lords and Ladies of the Ziad, men and women of Skeelzania, I come before you tonight with grave tidings.

“Approximately one month ago, a Skeelzanian Sternmarine task force took part in a planetary siege within Ile Sorne space. A Sornei world, New Constantinople, was under attack by a force of darkness from a galaxy beyond our own. This force, whose only dogma is hatred, and only emotion is spite, is known as the Imperiatus. They are Elves. Arenumbergian Elves.�

A brief thrill went through the audience at the mention of the ancient name, a thrill which quickly turned out astonished gasps and murmurings. A vidscreen had been slowly lowering as she spoke, and now it displayed the first image: a snapshot of the Imperiatus fleet in full attack formation, the few Skeelzanian ships in view dwarfed by the foe.

“The exact circumstances are still unclear to us.� The Kaiserin’s voice immediately silenced the room. “We do know that they are a splinter group that separated from the bulk some centuries ago in circumstances most acrimonious. They retreated to a separate galaxy, where they bided their time. Last month they began their return. Our fleet, and those of ESUS allies, met them at New Constantinople.�

The images flew by quickly: A Skeelzanian frigate disintegrating; burning warships jettisoning escape pods; escape pods being devoured by the Imperiatus nanites. A spectacular shot of the Ishtar’s decapitation.

“The enemy completely outnumbered us. Outgunned us. It was only through the determination and courage of the men and women of the Sternmarine and Army that prevented a total and catastrophic defeat at New Constantinople.�

The single triumphant image of the torpedo barrage striking home, courtesy of the Turandot.

“But it was still a near-run thing. Unable to have the world, the Imperiatus made certain to deny it to anyone else. One of their dreadnoughts crashlanded and purposefully detonated itself, decimating our ground forces and rendering the world uninhabitable. The remaining enemy vessels retreated into the depths of space to plan their next move.

Lords and Ladies, I know what ours must be.�

Catching the stagelights as she drew it from its scabbard, her sword pointed directly at the assemblage for a half second. Letting it turn down, she plunged it into the hardwood stage. “I am the Kaiserin of the Skeelzanian Sternreich, Inheritor of the Skeelzot Line and the Mantle of God. It is my sworn duty to protect the human race. These Imperiatus are the gravest threat to us since the great Solar conspiracy.

“While Ile Sorne is their target at present, we must not forget that these are Arenumbergian Elves. It is only a matter of time before they turn their gaze to our worlds, to our people. It was we who retrieved our inheritance and began their long exile and centuries of wandering. It was we who reasserted that it is Man, not Elf, who is most honorable among the races. It was through the Prophet Kagulan that the Elven treacheries of the Spoot Wars became known to the masses. The Imperiatus despise us as much as they do their own kin.

“There is no choice in the matter before us. There will be war. And it must be now!

“By the Ziad’s acclamation, by the people’s acclamation, let there be war between Skeelzania and the Imperiatus!�

She received their acclamation.

[Zerstorendar]

Wednesday, 20th May, Z.I.C. 1174
[center]The Vanderhuge Weekly[/center]
[right]2 gelds (including GST).[/right]

[center]Imperiatus Armada Annihilated[/center]

[center]Zerstorendarian forces play key role in the utter defeat of overwhelming hostile force[/center]

THE Mannlich Imperium of Zerstorendar has achieved another victory on the intergalactic field of late in the Battle of New Constantinople. The first major battle of what promises to be a long and destructive war, the victory of Zerstorendarian forces and allied ESUS forces is evidence that the “Areian War� is not as ill-fated as some analysts predicted.

A number of ESUS nations including Raysia, Kanuckistan, The Cerberus Alliance, Telros, and Skeelzania were involved with the Sornei providing the bulk of the ESUS fleet. The absence of the Xenonians and their recent actions in the Airavuni Incident is further evidence that their machinations are unfriendly to the Zerstorendarian Imperium.

Under Fleet Captain Gant Fendal, newly promoted after the recent UFP Sortie, Sternsieg assets engaged the hostile fleet in a pitched space battle lasting hours, during which New Constantinople was subjected to orbital bombardment by invaders. Fendal’s flagship, the ZVSG Oblivion, suffered minor damage, and the fleet itself remained functional throughout the entirety of the engagement. Imperiatus and most ESUS forces were badly mauled, and it was the intervention of a Sornei AI that saved the ESUS forces. Fendal is reported to be grateful for the Sornei assistance.

At the height of the space engagement, an Areian Dreadnought crashed on the planet of New Constantinople and deployed ground forces to attack the areas held by Zerstorendarian Ravagers and other ESUS units, primarily Skeelzanians. Genlich Markus Scarus, hero of the Rebellion of the Faint Smile and survivor of Wrathelm, led a force of three Capmarches or 12,000 Ravagers against the invaders.

Fighting was fierce, and the Zanekrieger soldiers were reportedly left with less than ideal support as the bombardment annihilated a large fraction of the Skeelzanian garrison. Telrosian. Cereberan and Raysian forces assisted but were generally ineffective, and Genlich Scarus who formed the bulk of the ESUS ground defences. After a number of brief and destructive but ultimately dismal offensives against the resolute Ravagers, the Imperiatus opted to commit mass suicide rather than fight to the death. Racial analysts theorize this is due to an inherent racial cowardice where they are unable to face their own defeat.

The crashlanded Dreadnought was set to overload despite the efforts of Kanuckistani boarding troops, and a destructive super-nuclear blast annihilated the remaining Imperiatus forces. Genlich Scarus and many Zerstorendarian ground forces survived, though other ESUS assets were almost completely annihilated.

With the ultimate defeat of their ground forces and the loss of momentum in space, the Imperiatus fleet fled. Ile Sorne is now requesting further assistance in anticipation of further attacks. Kaiserlich Kytus Draigan commented in a statement this morning:
“While regrettable, the loss of so many of their people seems to have strengthened the Sornei resolve. To respect their resilience, we will be increasing the level of military aid in this war. While Zerstorendarians have died and will continue to die in this war, this is a necessity for us to prove ourselves in a hostile universe. The stars belong to the strong, and it is up to us to be the strong.�

Zanekreiger, Sternkrieger and Sternsieg mobilizations have continued to increase, and the general response from military forces has been positive. Overlich Vandan, survivor of the Wrathelm and confidante of Genlich Markus, commented:
“We’re Ravagers. We f**k s**t up. The only problem is we don’t often enough get s**t to f**k up. As Ravagers, we’re always ready, all the time. I would follow the Kaiserlich to the end of existence, but I’m only too happy to f**k up these Imperiatus bastards.�

When asked if the Wrathelm incident had changed his stance on what some conservatives are decrying as an overzealous move by the government, Vandan vigorously refused to comment. The interviewer is currently recovering from major physical trauma.

In related news, the United States of Allanea have joined the war. It is yet to be seen what impact, if any, they will have militarily.

Under recommendation by Genlich Scarus, Kaiserlich Kytus Draigan has extended his gratitude to the Kaiserin of Skeelzania for the bravery of their soldiers. Fleet Captain Fendal sent no such recommendations.

The Four refused to comment on events, though Zanekriegerlich Helgrund Klaitus did remark that “this grand undertaking was only going to get grander�.

Preliminary Casualty Report: Battle of New Constantinople

For the eyes of Kaiserlich Kytus Draigan only.

The following numbers have been complied, lord, though they may be inexact. They are slightly lower than expected, but still rather horrendous. Especially disturbing is the loss of three Destroyer class vessels in what was a comparatively low-risk battleline when one takes into account the sheer number of enemy vessels the Sornei fleet engaged. It is my judgment that Sternsieg shielding and anti-missile technology needs updating, but I can make no recommendations for the performance of the Ravagers. Their actions under the circumstances were superb.

The stars belong to the strong,

Fleet Captain Gant Fendal.

Sternsieg Casualties:

-11 corvettes destroyed.
-4 frigates destroyed, 1 damaged.
-SVD Mantra, SVD Chorax, SVD Harried destroyed, SVD Biock damaged.
-Moderate damage to ZVSD Darkhand, ZVSD Apex, minor damage to ZVSD Oblivion

-2000+ Sternsieg personnel dead.

Sternkrieger Casualties:

-309 Hellbringers dead.

Sternsieg Casualties:

4890 Ravagers dead.
2000+ wounded.

Addendum:

The loss of our armoured units was a serious blow, and words cannot describe my anger at having suffered so many casualties. I am confident my Ravagers performed as best as possible under the circumstances, but my strategy left them in the open when the blast came. I take full responsibility, but request that I be kept on as supreme Zanekrieger commander during the Areian War.

The stars belong to the strong,

Genlich Markus Scarus.