All Will Know

[Arizona Nova]

War is Hell!

I’ve been where you are now and I know just how you feel. It’s entirely natural that there should beat in the breast of every one of you a hope and desire that some day you can use the skill you have acquired here.

Suppress it! You don’t know the horrible aspects of war. I’ve been through two wars and I know. I’ve seen cities and homes in ashes. I’ve seen thousands of men lying on the ground, their dead faces looking up at the skies. I tell you, war is Hell!

-General William Tecumseh Sherman, United States Army, Address to the graduating class of the Michigan Military Academy, 19 June 1879 A.D.


This is your realm, and the heart of the greater realm that shall be. The Third Age of the world is ended, and the new age is begun; and it is your task to order its beginning and to preserve what may be preserved. For though much has been saved, much must now pass away.

-J.R.R. Tolkien, Gandalf to Aragorn in The Return of the King, 6:V


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-=ISRV The Fist of the Empress, holding in deep space outside the Galactic Rim

Black. There wasn’t much in the sky outside the rim, save for the passing rogue star. Except for one huge swath of sky, that swirling expanse of stars winging around whatever madness dwelt at the center, the Milky Way Galaxy, everything about was black, save the dim glimmer of other, even more distant galaxies.

Within this expanse sat the Fist, swathed itself in darkness, alone for untold lightyears. It was but a pin in the middle of a field, and in this extreme isolation safe from the eyes and retribution of the enemy. Virtually soldered onto its sides were, however, unusual contraptions. Of the many technological innovations to survive the Calamities, this one was now proving the most important. Hyperfold drives, first used in 962 to propel the Dosvedanya, Intrepid, and Lucidity to the mysterious GFFA-BDZ05 galaxy and back again, now were being used to play a game of hide and seek on a scale too large for anyone to imagine. While able to warp relativity and space, and make bounds far in excess of the possibilities of conventional hyperdrive, they remained difficult to manage, produce, and power. Precious few ships had them, and more than once the smaller vessels had to destroy themselves rather than risk letting the engines fall into enemy hands.

It was an expense well worth the cost, however. Through many perils had the Fist, so early in the "New Campaign," been delivered. Soon, a small scout ship, also outfit with the hyperfold engines but dwarfed by them, folded in nearby and hailed the Fist, dispatched a message, and disappeared into hyperspace, towards one of the fleet tenders also waiting out beyond the Galactic Rim, strategically placed to service Imperial vessels on hyperfold cooldown.

Deep inside, on the internal bridge, Anikar hurriedly read through the message, High Admiral Brandon Govannon at her side.

“Whats the news?� he asked, darkly.

“Another dispatch from our Forward Command in Carvinia. The Departed have struck there, and attacked the Sivar Ilicanis Command Station there.�

Govannon groaned. “Casualties? Have they landed?�

“No,� said Anikar, curiously. “They sent but one ship, which destroyed part of the installation before being subsequently annihilated by the defenses there. That is most curious.�

“They’re bloody well holding out on us,� growled Govannon. “I bet they have more which will chew right through Departed kit.�

“It was the whole station attacking one vessel, Govannon, and it’s massive,� she said exasperatedly. “Arenumberg has given us what they could. Seeing as we’re cutting and running away ourselves it’s more than we deserve.�

“That was your idea,� he said grudgingly.

“No, it wasn’t. It was the advice given to me. I’m just as unhappy about it as you are, Govannon, but it’s what The Praetor recommended I do and it makes sense. Be that as it may,� she said. “The Departed nonetheless succeeded in killing three of the four Republic Sector Fleet Admirals.�

“For God’s sake,� rasped Govannon. “We told them not to hold a physical summit anywhere! What the hell were they thinking?�

“Only Corvaril of the Thalassi remains,� she said. “At least he has actually fought the Departed. He'll know better. In any case they’re requesting my presence at the station.�

“We’ll be finished with hyperfold cooldown in another hour and a half,� said Govannon, “But you’re gonna spend our next fold-in on a courtesy visit? The Departed could be lurking too, hoping that having those Admirals dead would draw in bigger fish,� he said darkly. “They’re getting wise to us if they’re not wise already. We’ve already been almost caught once by a whole flotilla once this week, and we only got away because of the SPECTRE. That Königsberg Cilimanzar wasn’t so lucky.�

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take and that you had best be prepared for then. We have a whole galaxy to run around in besides, hyperfolds on cooldown or not. Make preperations for us to depart as soon as the engines are back up.�

“Aye madam,� said Admiral Govannon.

As the clock ran down, klaxons blared throughout the ship. All links to outside feeds were shut down, from visual to sensors. Any readings from any device taken during a hyperfold came back corrupted; the sheer amount of data was too much for any computer to handle, and fried the systems. Windows were shut tight, and nobody wishing to remain in their right mind dared peek. Lights dimmed as the processing power of the entire ship bent towards working out the mind-blowing algorithms of the hyperfold, something even digisents would wrestle with for hours. The Fist, thanks to SPECTRE and its own advanced network design, was able to work things out faster than any other vessel in the fleet, but it was still a cumbersome and time-consuming process.

As the hyperfolds went green once more, though, the computers finished their calculations, making it green across the board. The Fist twinkled out once more, leaving that point in the void as lonely and lifeless as it had been for the billions of years since the universe’s fiery birth, once again.


-=The Sivar Ilicanis Fleet Command Station, Sylvanis, Carvinia System

Anikar lurched forward as the ship rapidly checked its momentum as it folded into the system – at least, hopefully folded into the intended system – and it was a braking which moved fast enough that even the inertial compensators strained hard to keep up. For a minute or two the vessel sat blind in the void, as its vital links to the outside slowly restored after the hyperfold; these minutes were the longest part of the entire journey, by far. For all she knew, they could have made a tiny mistake in calculations due to an overheated heat sink somewhere, and folded somewhere completely different – most likely just someplace else outside the Rim, but if they were unlucky, somewhere inside, and if they were very unlucky, the core of a planet or star, a hostile fleet or installation, the list went on. As the systems clicked on and as the ship registered no signs of enemy fire or trauma, it became clear the fold was a success. Finally sensors and communication came back on, and displayed before Anikar on the deep bridge was the Sivar Ilicanis Command Station.

It was a splendid sight. They had been unusually accurate, and had folded in close enough that the station filled their forward visual field, and already a convoy of alarmed elven defense craft was bearing down on them. Hyperfolds did not leave the same kind of signature that a standard hyperspace jump would, and for a moment the Arenumbergians may have thought that the Departed were back for more. Recognizing the Fist, however, they gave the ship an all-clear signal and escorted it towards the station.

As the Fist drew closer to it, the true enormity of the station became clear. It dwarfed the Fist, which was itself a respectable ten kilometers. The arms of the c-shaped installation enclosed it, the space between them would have allowed the Fist to perform stunts, and up and down the arms loomed many lengths of that ship. Truly, the command station was only short of a full ring-orbital like Monopoly, but just small enough that having architecture other than a simple ring was technologically feasible. It was easy to see why the elven admirals had been confident in its strength to keep them secure from Departed assault.

As it drew into the “bay,� the empty space in the middle of the station, however, the price of their pride was grimly evident. Spires stood above the outer walls of the station, looming far above the bay, and spaced at regular intervals, except for one. It had been in the center, and looked like it had been, not long ago, the most prominent, but now it was shattered. The glowing wreckage floated in space, and minute jets of plasma and venting gas continued to erupt from where it had jutted. In front of it the blackened and twisted remains of a ship also floated, charred to crisps.

[Arizona Nova]

The Fist continued on in toward the station, towards one of the largest of the docking bays within it. Floating in carefully, the sides and ceiling of the bay were still high enough that the ship could turn three-hundred and sixty degrees with ease. For what purpose Arenumberg had constructed such a dock was unknown, but it was nonetheless available. Soon, the Fist came to rest within the net of docking pylons, which swung into place along with a combination of force slings. The engines went on standby, and immediately the hundreds of dock mechanics went to work. Amidst it a shuttle from the station went out to the Fist and retrieved Anikar and the Admiral, and came back to its own dock within the bay.

The two disembarked, and were directed onto a tram by one of the elven soldiers standing guard at the smaller dock’s doors. As the tram rocketed toward the center section of the station, Anikar watched through the windows as they wound their way around the great docking bay, and as the elven engineers and mechanics, a whole army of them, set to work on a resupply and repair of the Fist. The twinkling of distant arc welders played up and down the ship’s hull, while other trams and shuttles flew in and out of the ship’s docking bays. While busy, there was nothing frantic about the activity; the pace of everyone out there, and moving within the station, denoted complete calm and confidence, an atmosphere that she found was dissipating elsewhere.

Eventually the tram passed deep into the station, and slowed as it neared the destination. Through the doors they stepped, and into a great chamber. The light was low and warm, made by great, tear-drop shaped lamps which were suspended from the ceiling, and the ceiling was high, and supported by spiraling marble columns which were inlaid with a red and gold filigree, which met at the top in a pointed arch. They framed alcoves that held elaborate statues of the military heroes of Arenumberg, from her first royalty to commanders who had fought to their death during the Khurganate war. In the middle of the chamber sat a multi-tiered fountain, which was supported by pilaster-statues itself, holding up the second bowl, and water welled up out of it and trickled down into the lower basin continuously, forming a smooth curtain which parted around the pilasters. Paths were marked into the floor, and circle the fountain before veering away to the different exits.

Anikar strode into the chamber breathless, taking in the splendor of the place, although at the back of her mind part couldn’t help thinking, “So that’s where all the glut of tax money in the Arenumbergian military budget has been ending up.� For a moment she waited, wondering if Kertai was listening to her thoughts, but it seemed he wasn’t. Of late his appearances were seldom, and he spoke shortly and left quickly. What it was that preoccupied him so, Anikar did not know. He continued to function correctly, and helped administrate the movements of the Sornei vessels as they jumped in and out of the galactic rim, but other than that he seemed distant, which was troubling.

As she slowly walked toward the fountain, peering up at the ceiling, the center right door opened. Through it strode an elf – he looked young, even by the standards of his species, but his eyes shone, belying a powerful intellect. Walking up to the two, he bowed slightly, and said,

"Shaelysti thol, A pleasure to meet you - I am Adjutant Thandir, forgive me if i cannot extend any more grandiose gestures than this welcome, but, times as they are."

Anikar nodded, but the Admiral remained silent, eyeing the elf. Anikar broke the silence first, saying, "Well met, Adjutant Thandir. It is perfectly alright; I have never been one for overwrought ceremony. We need to get to business anyhow, as we now appear to be down three admirals."

"Between us, although I am saddened by their families’ loss, though I daresay Corvaril has more merit than any of them ever did, but yes, if you would follow me to the Tertiary Briefing Room."

He motioned for them to come, and through the door he just entered in they went, taking a right once inside – the left was blocked off.

“That way,� said Thandir, motioning to the closed door, “Leads to the shattered spire. The Briefing Room is through here.�

Through the right door they came to a smaller board room. There were no windows, but the walls nonetheless had paintings hung upon them. The three sat on opposing ends of the long, black marble table. Thandir seemingly tapped away at nothing on the table, moments later several screens appeared on the walls, and a dozen more materialized from nothing in the table.

Those on the walls activated, and a star map of Ilë Sornë appeared on them. The Heaven’s Belt was highlighted a shade of orange, while New Constantinople shown red. The Arizona Novanian territories that remained were blue, while the loyal Arenumbergian territories were green, and the major planets within were highlighted, with Carvinia itself outlined.

"First and foremost, At the current time, the enemy are moving towards the Cassius system, making the first blow against Thalassi, as well as several other key systems. With the RSF in Arizona Nova proper - and quite frankly, morale at an all time low - they will occupy their targets without any mentionable armed resistance."

The orange swath slowly expanded to cover up the green worlds, slowing as it pressed in upon Carvinia and Raayven.

Anikar nodded gravely. "I'm sure that you also well know that Imperial forces are currently also standing down from defensive confrontations, and choosing to run over standing in place. We are, however, gathering strength, and preparing for a protracted campaign of resistance."

"Most likely the best course of action for now, Nonetheless, there are several other things to report, aswell as knowledge you should be informed of - As it stands right now the head doesnt know what the hands are doing here, so it falls to me."

"What are the hands up to, then?" asked Govannon.

"I wish we knew." Thandir chuckled, tapping a button - the display changed slightly, a small line coming seemingly from nowhere and struck into the Heaven's Belt area of the map. A small cross appeared in the Novanian territories aswell.

"Luckily that gave me some time to investigate something that I deemed worthy of inspection. There is an anomaly in your home territories, specifically The Imperial Core, and although it hasn't been as extensively sensor-netted as some territories, the new overlaps seem to have detected something. I doubt it's anything worthy of investigation in our current situation, but it should be noted. Though, if it was an enemy vessel or group, we would know about it by now. Stealth isn't something the Imperiatus has emphasized in their development."

Thandir nodded slightly. "However, as for this other anomaly in the Heavens Belt, I believe I've managed to pinpoint the exact exit and entry points of the Imperiatus wormhole that the Vaier Caier informed us, and most likely you as well, about. We should now be able to gain accurate readings on whats coming through and where its headed, valuable information for your guerilla war, no?"

“That is most excellent work, Adjutant. Adjutant what, by the way?�

"Just Adjutant, Thandir being my name, such is the fickle manner of home rule and differentiating rank systems." Thandir smiled.

“Yes,� said Anikar, eyeing him keenly. “Have you captained ship – or ships for that matter?�

"I have, though it has been some time since I commanded a vessel myself."

Govannon looked at Anikar suspiciously, but she ignored him. “I’m sure ingenuity will serve where experience – only, I suspect, momentarily atrophied – fails. We need admirals to take up the standard for the Republic Sector Fleet once more. Do you know of any others qualified for it, or ahead of you in the chain of command?�

"None alive, or not currently in hiding."

“Then it would please me to round off your Adjutant squarely to Admiral, Adjutant Thandir. What say you?�

Thandir bowed deeply. “I would be honored to lead my people against the Imperiatus menace, my lady.�

“Very good,� said Anikar. “Although I didn’t ask if you knew any others who were qualified facetiously either. If you do find candidates later on, be sure to tell me.�

Thandir nodded. “I shall, my lady. I believe that the rest of the fleet should be informed soon, however, and while I do that, you should take a tour of the rest of the station. I daresay I don’t think you’ve been here before. There are yet many chambers like the Hall of Memory for you to see, and even more splendid.�

“I will take you up on that offer, Admiral Thandir,� said Anikar, rising out of her seat. “Although only while the Fist is in dock. As soon as she is prepared to leave I must as well.�

[Arizona Nova]

-=Thalassi, Cassius System

Thalassi, the great capital of Arenumberg, sat glimmering within its orbit, its sun shining through clean air to the surface of pristine oceans, which glittered, making the world look, from space, like a giant glittering sapphire. Its cities were barely discernable from the rest of the planet, so well ordered and blended with the plains and forests were they.

And now many eyes sat in the void, scrutinizing it, watching jealously. Thousands of Imperiatus ships slid into the system, alert for any movement, the deployment of drones or defense craft, strained but ready to fight, and to kill without mercy.

But none came. On the world below, all activity ground to a halt as Thalassi's citizens awaited the inevitable return of their long-lost, estranged brethren.

Soon the Imperiatus fleet drew up in Thalassi's sky. They continued to scan; nothing? Not even a token defense? Then maybe the Anikari really were that craven. From that great fleet thousands of landing craft issued, setting down on the planet below. Within hours, it was taken, without resistance. The occupation of the Imperiatus had begun.

-=Silvar Ilicanis Station

After finishing their meeting with Thandir, Anikar and Admiral Govannon continued their tour of the grand place, taking in the beauty and care the elves put into this military installation. Yet that did but sell it short; it was form and function wedded seemlessly. Nothing seemed tacked on or out of place.

Yet it was short enough. Soon, the Fist was ready to go once again and off cooldown. Getting back on board, grim news was quickly relayed to Anikar.

"We lost contact with Thalassi about a half hour ago," intoned The Captain, as the Anikar and the Admiral seated themselves on the bridge. "They have already struck there."

"But it is occupied," said Anikar. "Right?"

"There is no telling," said The Captain. "All communications cut out at once, but there was no indication of an attack at the time. Truth be told, it's been getting progressively quieter out there for a while now. Either way, it's all gone now. Cassius is a void in the system."

"We cannot go there, occupied or no," said Anikar. "My intelligence has relayed that the main thrust of the enemy's strength has gone to Thalassi, and it would be there where they'd expect us to come to make a stand, even our last. We do not go," she said. "We let the enemy try and gulp down as much as possible, and stretch himself thin, then all at once do we strike, us and our allies with us. But we need a rally point, one which will not be expected," she said, beginning to talk to herself. From her chair she summoned a star map of the Milky Way galaxy, with the relative positions of allied capitols highlighted. Scrutinizing it for a moment, she gasped and snapped her fingers.

"I should have thought of it before. Nobuseri space - it has long since denationalized, yet the rogue element there remains strong enough that no one has yet dared to try and take it. We shall rally there."

"Are you sure, my Empress?" asked Govannon. "You said yourself that the rogue elements persist. Do we need to fight their war machines even as we contemplate a suicide attack on the Departed?"

"Govannon, my patience wears thin," said Anikar. "These attacks will go through, and the Empire will be saved, even if those two do not necessarily go hand in hand. Mark my words. The last collected strength of our nation and some half a dozen others will rally there. We shall wait then for the Departed to attack another world. When they close on Carvinia, then we shall strike. Have alerts go out to the rest of the fleet that is waiting beyond the rim, and our allies - the Great Rally begins."

The Last Rally, Govannon thought.

[Arenumberg]

Elthrohir City, Occupied Thalassi - Arenumberg

It was night, at least in this part of the city. Strict controls imposed virtually overnight ensured there was no power outside the now Imperiatus controlled "integration" centres. The Imperiatus had several objectives to complete now, though not all would be revealed at once. The soft glow from the re-purposed government office that had been converted spilled forth, illuminating the surrounding ornate structures that comprised this once busy boulevard. The same light illuminated a few figures, some armed, the rest not, being herded into the building.

Integration was not a short nor pleasant experience. Surviving it was a different matter altogether.

Just a breif interlude for now.. Need Duane back for more keke!

[Allanea]

And in the meanwhile, Allanean ships deployed for the Last Rally. These were two battlegroups of the Allanean navy, and, in addition, Kazansky's personal warship – the Reckless Audacity – a gigantic private battleplate, built on the hull of an Executor-class starship.

The Allaneans were prepared to carry out their strike – once the Sornei gave them the green light. For they were the Freemen. Their nation has been founded in the far North of the ancient Haven region, forged on the anvil of countless wars, painful defeats, and glorious victories. They were Allaneans, and they knew that even from the very depths of despair, one who keeps hope and honor alive can rise to the very peaks of triumph. They knew, thus, that there is no surrender – and no defeat. There can be only victory, and it would come, they knew – sooner or later.

They were ready. It was upon the Sornei to re-start the good fight.

[Arizona Nova]

The Southern Fleet Command of the former territories of Nobuseri was an ancient, ruinous place. After the great "War of the Fish" some centuries ago, the area had, for the most part, lost all importance, as the destruction of their command station there had robbed the system of any strategic importance. By now the local sectors had all come down to dozens, even hundreds, of various clans, clinging to nearby planets, occasionally emerging to bring swift war and raids to their enemies, or harass any Sornei vessels they could or those few ships commanded by the Sornei-backed Nobuseri rump state. The ruinous war which marked their Admiral's bid for power and death, however, had ended long ago, and for the most part, things were now quiet.

The Sornei vessels sat moored by tow lines and magnetic grapples to the twisted, ashen ruins of the massive Fleet Command station. Although destroyed, it was not completely vaporized, though by now everything of worth had been stripped from it by centuries of bandits and treasure hunters, and it was but a framework and a skeleton of its former grandeur. It twinkled dully in the wan sunlight of the system's sun, when it wasn't in the shadow of the great gas giant its orbit was anchored too.

Sornei controls beckoned the Allanean fleet in. Fleet tenders they had, but not much in the way of provisions. Stock standard for wartime, and all of it would have to be passed by shuttle. As more fleets gathered, they would be strained to the utmost to keep the supply train going - and unseen. When the Departed had stretched themselves as thin as possible, then the great fleet would strike.

[Arizona Nova]

The slow buildup of Sornei strength in this place did not go unnoticed, however. Not by the Departed, of course, but by the older residents of the area. The many Nobuseri clans which had survived the war did not, as a rule, stray near the old command center, but neither did they tolerate trespassing. Soon after the first Sornei ships arrived, the local warlords convened in secret to discuss a plan of action. For the first time since the last great war, they moved to gather their forces.
Time had degenerated their knowledge, and disorder, the quality of their commanders. It was vaguely remembered that an impossibly small force of Nobuseri had penetrated the very heart of the Sornei empire and brought it to its knees, but any archives and debriefing materials which had recorded the exact mechanics of that assault had been lost, and in their place it was just assumed that the Sornei were soft.

Yet the war with the Departed had made the Sornei hard, and desperate. The fleets sitting at rest at Southern Fleet Command were canny, straining for the approach of any hostiles in the void.

Even so, the Nobuseri had not forgotten how to fight either, and most importantly, their vessels could still jump into FTLi.

“Sir,� said the ensign on the Fist, “Incoming bogeys on the sensor grid.�

“Who are they?� asked The Captain, jostled out of his brooding vigile.

“Someone who is jumping in under ours and the gas giant’s FTLi, but the ships are quite a bit smaller than we’ve seen the Departed use, and a bit fewer.�

“That’ll be the locals. Ring up the Allaneans, and get the rest of the commanders on the phone. We’re having some company tonight.�

Within moments the Sornei fleet deployed a fighter screen, pulling in the patrols. The Sornei did remember the war, and every pilot in the screen knew who their marks were; the great war "robots." With the screen's rolling lines just barely established, the Nobuseri vessels jumped in. They were ancient, their hulls a patchwork of makeshift repairs made permanent, and clan ornamentation which overlayed the faded insignias of the Nobuseri. Their fleet was large, but the entire remaining strength of the Sornei, and the Allanean fleet as well, were gathered in the system. The Sornei screen charged forward as the fleet opened fire; as her older and more armored vessels were designed to present high firepower on all sides, the Nobuseri fleet found waiting guns on all sides.

[Arizona Nova]

The Nobuseri force had not expected such quick reactions from the Sornei fleet, and soon came to the grim realization that even this great force was not enough to dislodge, or even disturb, their enemies. The Sornei fleet was vast, by their standards, and their commanders were, amidst the chaos of their commands and the on-the-fly restructuring of their battle plans, suddenly wondering what could be happening that would drive such a force out here. Nobuseri clans, as a rule, did not associate with outsiders like the hated Sornei-backed Kokuzoku government had, and as such they had but rumors of wars with elven warfleets, which only bolstered their conception of the Sornei as weak.

Yet the Nobuseri remnants were not without tools. From battleships all across their combined fleet issued squads of mecha, brandishing their feared liquid-metal swords, charging across the void. They split to attempt to attack the Sornei fleet from the top and bottom, the two sides where the defenses of the ship were most strained to fire.

In reponse, drones began buzzing out of the bays of the ancient Jormungand carriers, moving in close to the mecha. Like gnats they picked away at their armor with concentrated light fire, but unlike gnats when hit with the sword or the gun, they violently exploded, sometimes even ramming into the enemy. The manned Valkyries stayed at distance, and while taking hits from the ranged weapons of the Nobuseri they followed the imperative to stay well away from their deadly swords.

In anger the war mecha stretched their liquid metal to the limit, lengthening it to the utmost in suddent stabs and sweeps to try and drive the Valkyries out of the sky. Soon their charge slowed, far short of the main body of the Sornei fleet.

The capital vessels traded fire furiously, but the larger Sornei fleet simply had more volume of fire, even with the FTL missiles held in reserve. Soon it became apparent to the Nobuseri that to remain in the fight would mean certain death. Four of their most damaged vessels, spewing jets of plasma flames, chunks of armor and hull hanging off and detaching all over, began a death charge into the Sornei lines, while the rest of the Nobuseri fleet backed away. The mecha disengaged, and within moments the Sornei digisents and commanders recognized their impending peril. Every last tractor beam in the fleet concentrated on the wrecks as they made their approach, and hundreds of vessels swept up and down to avoid their trajectory. One of the suicide vessels was smashed into the other, and the resulting cataclysm from their overloading reactors annihalated them both. Yet the other two continued to close, and soon drew into rage of their half of the Sornei fleet, and also detonated their reactors. The shockwave washed over the Sornei ships, vaporizing some destroyers unlucky enough to be near by and crippling a group of cruisers. Meanwhile, their remaining mecha packed, the Nobuseri fleet withdrew with an emergency jump on their FTLi. The accursed Sornei had won the field again today at Southern Fleet Command, and already not a few captains had fell on their own swords, while the unlucky few were dispatched by their own first officers. Yet even disgrace can prove a deadly catalyst; who knows what the fruit of the Nobuseri defeat would be? Soon the clan warlords received word of the battle, and drew together once more, convening often for long after. In time, the costliness of this victory for the Sornei would become starkly evident.

For now, however, the Sornei themselves hastily tended to their wounds. They could afford virtually no losses, especially of anything with armor, but even a destroyer turned to dust was at this point a grievous blow.

On the bridge of The Fist, Anikar stood hunched over a holographic map of local space with High Admiral Govannon and the ship's Captain, plus projections of the other High Admirals; Aedar Corvaril of the Republic Sector Fleet, Naronya of First, Hyce of Second, Absalom of Third, Byelobog of Fourth, Fergie of Fifth, all conferring together, a rare occurence in former days, but now essential.

"Were those rammers the last of the Nobuseri forces in the system?" asked Admiral Cecilia Fergier, peering owlishly through her glasses.

"Unless they have very good cloaking, yes," said Byelobog. "Sweeps aren't showing up any bogeys."

"What we need to be concerned with now, aside from the Departed, is just how they'll react to this at home. The Southern Fleet Command fight was, as we later found out from our friends within the rump state, a setup by their Admiral to position himself in power," commented Hyce.

Admiral Absalom eyed him angrily; it had been his fleet which had won the day during the Fish War, and it was a victory quickly enough diminished by the guerrilla strike of the Nobuseri against the Sornei, and further tarnished by the intelligence Hyce mentioned. Combined with the recent battle of Morakan, his stock as an Admiral had been diminished considerably.

"Nothing against you, dear Colombe," said Hyce reassuringly. "Hindsight makes fools of us all, of course. This was a genuine defeat, and it will not be soon forgotten by the Nobuseri. We must be wary of them in the future."

"Agreed," said Govannon eagerly. "Yet I would not consider the teeth-gnashing of a few broken clans of higher import to our current situation as the Departed. We've gotten every last ship from outside the rim pulled in, yes? This is all that remains of our fleets, is it not?"

Fergie pursed her lips, and said, "Yes, it is. We took twenty-five percent losses at New Constantinople with all fleets present, which was First, Second, my own Fifth, and the RSV as well. Thats three-hundred and ninety one vessels per fleet remaining for the first three, at least, though perhaps more in the case of the RSV. They won't be a direct factor in our attack anyway, though, as you're going to hold at Carvinia when the time comes, correct?"

"We shall await your onset there, certainly," said Corvaril. "Hopefully we might catch them between us there, and redress New Constantinople."

"We can hope," said Anikar warily.

Fergie continued. "That leaves us, with those three fleets, at one thousand one hundred and seventy three ships, about half of which are Hughies and another quarter destroyers, which wouldn't survive very long against the Departed as is. Third has suffered catastrophic losses, which only leaves us with Fourth and Sixth at full strength, as Sixth only had the Fist participating at New Constantinople. Those two fleets thus account for one-thousand and forty two vessels. Altogether, this fleet here numbers two thousand, two hundred and twenty nine."

"Two thousand against the Departeds ten thousands," said Anikar. "I would have more join us out here before the final battle is waged. How far has their invasion progressed?"

"The Lirium, Tyvistia, and Lovaris systems have fallen off the grid, and all probes have been destroyed. They're picking up the pace, as it must seem apparent to them that we have stood down our defense. By the end of this week they will be attacking Carvinia and or Raayven, as Thandir predicted," said Corvaril coolly.

"Allies or no, we have to attack as soon as their attack on Carvinia begins. It is going to be the only place Arenumberg stands, and should it fall or even fall too quickly, then the war is well and truly over, and we must then face a future as a broken nation of refugees with a hostile and inexhaustibly powerful enemy on our doorstep, who is only restrained from destroying us by scorning acknowledgement of us."

"I believe," said Admiral Naronya, "You mentioned the intervention of other factors at some point to assist us? Can you elucidate?"

"I did," said Anikar quickly. "But I cannot. The VC scouts sent to Nominor have not yet returned word of what falls in the Old Core. For the present, we must concentrate on making sure that our battle plan is perfected, and getting the fleet practicing maneuvers. Our margin for error is very slim, and we cannot afford to slip up even more than once."

In the mean time, a final summons was sent to the coalition from the battle of New Constantinople: Raysia, Kanuckistan, Zerstorendar, Skeelzania, Telros, and The Cerberus Alliance, as well as to the ESUS in general. With or without them, the attack would go forward. No digisents would invade their vessels this time, but their coordination would still be imperative, and the stakes were no less than the fate of all Ilë Sornë.

[The Cerberus Alliance]

The Cerberan fleet had been making it's best time possible as it burst into the area around the meeting point. Three Achilles II-class warships (complete redesigns of the Achilles that had appeared at the New Constantinople disaster), along with their docking-arm-attached destroyers, decelerated as quickly as they could in order to match orbit and other such movements with what forces were gathered. Mere moments later, a fourth warship jumped in, larger than the other three. This was the Guidance, the fleet's command ship.

ESUS fleet, this is the WarCarrier Guidance and it's support fleet, sent here on the behalf of the Protectorate of the Cerberus Alliance. We thank you for the invitation to this party, and our men are eagerly looking forward to the coming festivities, though we would appreciate some communications about what is planned.

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

Fully clad in a white and green light power armor, the same kind of armor that Cerberan pilots wear, the fleet's commander, Aridan Drake, stepped onto the bridge. Only a moment after seeing the forces already gathered via the main monitor, he turned to the communications officer.

"Has the message been sent?" He asked, sounding as impatient as ever.

"Yes sir. I sent it as soon as we arrived." In a hurried tone, the officer responded.

"Good man. I guess that pay raise that we gave you didn't cause too much of an intelligence drop." A moment of pause followed before he spoke again. "Is there any analysis on immediate threats?"

His second in command responded to this question. "No, sir. The most resent hostile activities were from a group of what would be the region's natives. The attack was dealt with just before we arrived."

Aridan's face changed to an expression of relief as he heard that there wasn't any immenent danger heading straight for the fleet. A much better situation than what had occured before. "Very well. Let all pilots and turret crews take a break, and feel free to trade off shifts if you need food or something. Keep the UOF's powered up and ready to launch at any moment, though. We don't want to be caught with our pants completely down."

His second in command replied with a "Yes, sir!" before relaying the order to the rest of the ship. In the meantime, the commander simply told his comm officer to let him know when they received a reply to the message as he went back to his quarters.

[Telros]

*posty will be up here shortly*