All Will Know

[The Cerberus Alliance]

The ion cannons of the Cerberan fleet were doing their job, tearing away shields and doing their damage, clearing the way for the railcannon's attack, which had already ripped numerous smaller Imperiatus ships in half, despite the aiming problems the immense weapon system was having with actually hitting it's intended targets. Apparently, requiring the entire ship to move in order to take aim becomes a problem if the target is moving.

The battle was going well. Too well. That was Aridan's thought, anyway. The Imperiatus had been fighting back, but it would be foolish to think that they didn't have more than a few superweapons tucked away for a time like this. Not to mention the likelihood that reinforcements would be coming at any second.

"...worst case scenario...." He mumbled to himself, still intently watching the holographic view infront of him like there was some small detail that he might not be seeing. "Right."

"Sir?" One bridge officer approached his commander, with the rest of the crew present in the command center looking worried that their admiral had started talking to himself.

The Admiral finally turned away from the display, and began calling out orders. "Load up the third and fourth galaxies for ship defense and get them to stations for use as mobile point defense turrets. Have the UOFs begin guarding our asses in case the reinforcements come in behind us. Order all ships to stop using offensive guns other than the ion cannons and the main gun, and keep firing with those like we have been until I tell you otherwise."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
OOC Notes:
The third and fourth galaxies use a new omni-mech that's essentially a catapult with clan tech. The ship defense configuration consists of lots of pulse weapons, and magnetic pads on the feet for securing the machine on a starship hull, something which borrows more from Macross than Battletech.

UOF: Unmanned Omni-Fighter. Drone fighters that can have their loadout changed for doing a variety of missions, and are able to accelerate at rates that would kill most pilots, even with the current level of inertial handling tech available to the protectorate.

[Arizona Nova]

The allied onset continued, and with disgust the Imperiatus watched while it endured. From victory this battle had degenerated too far, and was coming too close once again to defeat. Yet as the Imperiatus fleet surveyed the body of Sornei vessels, something became clear - this was the last of their strength, whereas the fleet present was but one of many of the Imperiatus. Make the Sornei pay a pint of blood for every drop of theirs, and the war would be over.

So the order went forward. The torpedo tubes were loaded, the warheads armed. Thousands upon thousands queued to fire. The mantra that was repeated as the measure went forward:

"There is no price too high to pay for vengeance."

-=ISRV Fist of the Empress

All at once, the guns of the Imperiatus fleet stopped firing, and their shields trebled in strength. Kertai saw the move, and thought, "Oh come now. You tried this at New Constantinople. It didn't work then either. What are you up to?"

He lazily reviewed the sensor readouts, and looking saw - they were firing something, something swiftly approaching. Thousands and thousands of somethings. If he had a heart, it would have dropped into his stomach.

"Anikar," he said, intruding into her thoughts.

"Yes?" she replied.

"A contingency has arose that I have not accounted for," he intoned grimly. "Look at the sensor readouts."

Glancing at her console, she saw the onset of the torpedoes break the shield. For a moment, she was non-plussed, but then she remembered. "What kind are they?"

"I assumed they would start the battle with them," Kertai reasoned. "That they were a weapon of first and last resort held in limited stock. I would never have dreamed that they would hold them in such numbers, nor that they would be so insane as to fire so many at once. This sector may never be the same."

Even as he conferenced with Anikar, he was desperately trying to rally the point defense against the onset of torpedoes, scrambling off desperate messages to the allied fleet: Destroy the torpedoes! Destroy them all! Yet he knew it would be too late.

The wave drew nearer, and the fleet was in the effective blast radius of every extant torpedo. They detonated, simultaneously.

The last thing Anikar saw before blacking out was the deck of the Fist lunging upward radically as the ship groaned and screamed below her, as if God's fist itself had landed the knockout blow, as every conceivable klaxon and alarm went off simultaneously, as she was slammed into the deck.

[Arenumberg]

Migrationary Sector 54-2-5A, The Cityship Anastasis.

The transluscent form of the Cityship was barely visible to the naked eye, and even less so to the numerous sensors employed by the denizens of this region for their everyday tasks. The periodic shimmer of the shielding systems, although barely noticable - was the betraying echo belying the true monument to engineering that shielded itself from sight. However, to notice something, one must be looking for it.

The Sornei were not.

Central Command, Cityship Anastasis

The vast hall that made up the bridge - for want of a better word - of the Anastasis was a hive of activity. Not only were the crew ensuring the continued operation of the ships systems, they too were continuously documenting and storing information as it flowed in for study within the behemoths laboratories and libraries many decks below.

Not simply content with the intricacies of stellar phenomenon, the Anastasis advanced array of sensors and communication equipment delicately probed the planets, vessels and indeed communications of the area, cataloguing and documenting for the good of curiosity and further learning. The fact they were now witnessing a war and the ensuing reactions amongst the local populace was all the better. For science, of course.

It was subtle how the silence came, but one moment it was there, the movement of the Taur replaced with only the momentary chime of a console requiring attention. Although no-one spoke, the room was awash with speech.

It took but a moment for the Anastasis's communion master to gain his composure, letting his mind reach out across the vast hall.

"Silence! Are the readings from this subsector correct, is the information absolutely correct?"

Several competing mental voices returned affirmatives.

The communion master looked downwards for a moment, before his attention turned to the readout infront of him. This time, the speech was of physical substance.

"Then enough is enough, I should think. No more Delays, Prepare the migrationary group for immeadiate departure."

[Arizona Nova]

Anikar came to. The bridge was dark, but for the flickering of panels, desperately trying to communicate the gravity of the situation to a crew that had been, for the most part, tossed around like rag dolls, and unconscious... maybe dead. Smoke was filling the room. The computer had replaced the myriad of alarms with one single klaxon, the signal of doom - one low, sonorous, buzzing tone.

Abandon ship.

Struggling up, she heard the groans of the bridge crewmen, and then a strangled scream.

"My God, look out the view port!"

Floating ahead of them, disbodied, was the forward half of the Fist... torn away from its behind. The image flashed in and out.

"Everyone," Anikar croaked, "Everone who can... get to the yacht..."

She didn't see who came to follow her, though she sensed others struggling after her through the smoke, but few were there. The ship had been torn, she observed, ahead of the yacht, so the vessel should still be intact. She pushed aside the fact that even escape by that route would be futile; if even possible, it would just lead to the life of an outlaw, of a government in exile... the killing blow had been struck.

Chaos reigned in the system. The Sornei fleet, which had, by numbers, receieved the brunt of the blow, was reeling, and the stumbling and flailing of damaged vessels and panicking captains would, ere the end, be the cause of almost as many casualties as the terrible volley itself. Gravity storms, caused by the explosion of the torpedoes, raged; though the idea behind the weapon had been for a short-duration singularity that would expire on its own, the sheer number of them, like an inferno, fed and sustained their existence, and ships went tumbling into the event horizons, to vanish forever, in a conflagaration which was darker than black. Communications had similarly blacked out, and Kertai was now cut off.

The price for victory, for the Imperiatus, was still steep. The detonations were too close to them to be wholly escaped, and many of their own vessels slipped into the howling dark, never to be seen again. None of their weapons could penetrate that ebon wall either, only to go glancing off in another direction, or sometimes directly back at them. It was Ragnarok in miniature. Nothing would escape. The fleet turned its guns to the allied units on the ground, and began to bombard them.

[The Cerberus Alliance]

The bridge rocked as the explosions and their aftermath tore apart a great deal of the destroyer wall acting that had acted as a drone-piloted barrier between the Imperiatus.

"What just happened? Damage report!" Aridan steadied himself, with the help of his powered armor, as he moved his hand up to cover a location on his head where he had just had a close encounter with one of the bridge's walls.

"We're detecting the same gravitic distortions that the Achilles fleet did back at New Con. But, if these readings are true... those Imps just spammed the damned things." The sensor officer reported back.

"We've lost a good 75% of the destroyer line. No detonations detected in any of the assault pods that were lost, and none of the units still responding have suffered any detonations. Looks like the trigger requirements worked. Most of the drone interceptor wings and the dropships are still responding... and we're losing point defense mechs." Another officer reported.

A voice from fire control also reported "Targeting comps can't find a trajectory through that storm for any of our weapons."

The remaining reports were less immediate. Mech teams were being called back to their hangars. Engineering reported that the FTL drive and attached navigational systems had lost stability to a point where attempting to jump any time in the next few hours would be a horrible decision. And the status of the rest of the allied fleet came in last.

"Well, that limits down what we can do." The fleet's commander began issuing new orders. "Maintenance is working on the jump drive. Tell them to do it faster. And prioritize their needs first. If I remember correctly from some of the research, this many detonations of those things has a chance of sending an unstable jump drive on a compulsory trip to some random location in the universe. We can't afford to have that happen to us.

"Have as many rescue and recovery craft that we can spare go over an attempt to help out the allies, beginning with the Sornei. They look like they've been through the worst.

"Continue pulling back the mech teams, but maintain interceptor patrols in case of any more surprises. And start turning the ships around and get us as far away from those storms at non-FTL speeds as possible!"

A group of only 50 drop ship craft, with crews and equipment for salvage and rescue, were all that the fleet could afford to send out as the larger vessels began their turn away from the enemy fleet. Of those sent out, it was expected that 1 in 5 would be caught by one of the effects of the disaster either on the way to the allied fleet, on on the way back. Upon arrival rescue teams would explore any wreckage still showing signs of life that might still be able to be rescued.

[Zerstorendar]

Genlich Scarus punched a large dent in the quickly constructed command post’s wall as Zucaplich Fendal’s fleet dropped out of contact, and he could only imagine the destruction that had befallen the fleet. Some sort of spaceborne weapons of mass destruction had been launched enmasse, and the reality-warping impacts could be easily seen from the ground. From what he was hearing, which was not a lot at all, damage was catastrophic.

He had to assume that support from the Sternsieg was no longer possible, though the atmospheric fighters from ESUS allies were still around. The attack on the Imperiatus ground positions were bloody and every bit as slow and grinding as expected, but it was clear that their technological advancement had not been equaled in the warrior culture of the enemy ground forces: from the massive amount of live data he was gathering from all of his officers in the thick of it, the enemy soldiers did not have the mentality to win this fight.

Overlich Vandan, the senior Ravager assaulting the walls, sent a curt message through to Scarus:

“We’re through the walls, their front line is completely fucked up. Casualties acceptable, we’re beginning the second assault. Request ground fortress spearhead.�

“Granted. Keep that shit up, soldier.�, Scarus replied.

One of Scarus’ aides, a senior Ravager officer who looked worried about the status of the fleet, rushed up to the General and slammed his fist into his breastplate in salute before talking:

“Sir Genlich, it’s possible that the enemy fleet will begin to bombard our positions. Contact has been broken between the ESUS and hostile fleets.�

“Continue the attack.�

“Our men will be caught in the open.� He stated plainly.

“Then we need to take the spaceport and get some cover. Authorize the use of nuclear warheads.�

“It’s been requested th-“

“Their planet is about to blown to motherfucking pieces by the Aerians, those fuckwits won’t give a shit anymore. I want the spaceport hit with everything we’ve got and taken in the next five minutes. Tell Vandan acceptable casualty thresholds have been increased two levels and he needs to be inside that spaceport and under cover right the fuck now.

Move the artillery crews into the bunkers and maintain fire until an orbital barrage begins causing casualties.� Genlich Scarus turned and began lumbering very quickly away from the command center, his twenty bodyguards accompanying him.

“Where are you going, sir!?� his subordinate called after him, the enhanced voice in his armour carrying easily to the disappearing Scarus.

“I need a first hand view of this fight! Get into the bunkers!�

Scarus and his heavily experienced retinue of elite Ravagers moved at paces that would be considered incredible by normal human standards, their heavily enhanced and trained physiques combined with their massive Powersuits combined to give them a top ground speed easily comparable to ground traffic in Zerstorendar.. Within a minute they had arrived at the Zanekrieger vehicle compound, where the General appropriated several of the much faster Zerstorendarian Main Battle Tanks for speedier travel to the front line. Since the fully armoured Ravagers were too large to fit inside even vehicles the size of Rendari MBT’s, Scarus and several other soldiers rode on top of the main turret.

+++++

The flash that the impact of hundreds of tactical nuclear warheads created was blinding and fatal to anybody unfortunate enough to be at the spaceport unarmoured. No longer concerned about the progress being made by the Sskiss, Overlich Vandan ensured his soldiers kept their nuclear payloads within the designated overwatch zones to minimize the risk of friendly fire and paid no more attention to it.

The enemy defences were crumbling quickly under such an incredible barrage, massive explosions and small mushroom clouds engulfing the entrenched enemy forces, blasting defences and soldiers to dust and greviously injuring many who were not in the maximum blast zone. Advanced armour and medical nanites were little defence against the fusion forces being leveled against them, and the suddenness of the Zanekrieger’s nuclear assault had cost the Imperiatus dearly. The Ravagers themselves, now converted from shock troops to longer-range bombardment troops by simple virtue of changing their weapon loadouts, were mostly hanging well back from the conflagoration engulfing the spaceport. The Main Battle Tanks and Ground Fortresses were also unleashing their entirety of their vast armaments into their targets, and where the wall of fire was preventing them from acquiring targets they continued to surround the spaceport and pour fire into at different angles.

Vandan roared in satisfaction as he fired another pair of warheads, as did many of his men. The noise of the weapons impacts mostly drowned out their warcries, but that didn’t discourage anybody from continuing. The choice to use nuclear warheads would not doubt anger the local Sornei, but they wouldn’t be thanking the Rendari if the Imperiatus kept control of the planet either. Not only that, the Genlich was probably right in that everything was about to be blasted to pieces anyway.

Retaliation from the Imperiatus was existent, if minimized. Unleashing their own heavy weaponry into the Zanekrieger forces was resulting in mentionable casualties, but Vandan’s orders were clear: burn the spaceport and everything in it to the ground if necessary, it was going to be destroyed anyway. At least this way, it could provide some cover for the orbital bombardment that was sure to-

The sound of orbital weaponry piercing the atmosphere registered even over the nuclear holocaust, and flashes of light in the discolored sky as well as massive distant explosions confirmed that time was up. Just as he decided to order a definitive assault, a massively enhanced voice echoed over the field and through the combat visors of the Zerstorendarian soldiers:

“This is Genlich Scarus, the enemy are bombarding our forces. Raise your weapons, unleash the fury of that insane bitch Tereza, and take the spaceport no matter the cost! Attack, you fuckmonglers! Attack!�

As Genlich Scarus continued to sprout all manner of motivational dialogue from where he stood on the barrel of a charging tank, Vandan and the entirety of the Zanekrieger assault force charged forward with everything they had, heedless of enemy fire, into a wall of flame and death as the planet was burned from above.

Overlich Rayne Vandan had time for one thought as the battle reached its end:

“I fucking love my job.�

[Arizona Nova]

Anandil blinked. It felt like it had been ages since he had last been awake and aware. An indistinct face hovered over him.

"My Lord?" said the voice of High Admiral Naronya. "Are you coming to?" He motioned for someone, off to the side, to come near. "Are you alright?"

"What the hell happened?" grunted Anandil, pushing himself up. The alert lights were blinking as the deep bridge came back into focus.

"We had a bit of a shock," said Admiral Naronya, "In the form of hundreds of black-hole bombs. The Kaltarak is in one piece, but we've lost a lot of ships... possibly the Fist."

"What?!" gasped Anandil, staggering to his feet.

"My Lord," stammered Naronya. "You should rest, our ship - and yourself - took quite a tumble even so..."

"The Fist... it can't be..." groaned Anandil. "Take me to the view port, I have to see. Sensors, anything!"

Naronya and the doctor complied, helping Anandil toward the nearest console. A feed showed the grim state of the vessel.

"Do we have any communications?" urged Anandil.

"No my Lord. Most of our networks are out, and I doubt that even if the physical instruments still worked anything could function with the maelstroms outside."

Anandil felt as if a great weight had suddenly dropped from the heavens onto his shoulders. His knees buckled slightly, and the doctor and the Admiral rushed to hold him up.

"Do you know what this means, Naronya?" he said, his voice husky with sober realization.

"You may now be Emperor," said the High Admiral, quietly.

"Never would I have asked to be crowned on a battlefield... not before victory is won, anyway," he said. "It may mean nothing anyway... if our situation is as desperate as it seems, I will be the last man to bear such a title."

"Sir," said one of the ensigns, his voice almost cracking with disbelief. "We have incoming."

"My God, no... no..." said Naronya, in a tone of an utterly broken man. Now he leaned forward. "So it will soon come to an end after all..."

"Sir!" said the ensign, his voice rising in pitch, "The signatures aren't Imperiatus! They're... sir, I've never seen anything like them before!"

Naronya sprinted over to the console. "Who are they then..." he said, as he peered at it. He blinked. "Good God, you're right... I've never seen anything like it. Get me a feed of the outside!"

A projection filled the forward wall of the deep bridge. A soft glow perfused the tormented space outside, and amidst the roiling of the shattered continuum, came a single vessel, monumental in size, but of no shape or make familiar to Sornei eyes, dwarfing even the Imperiatus ships around it. Smoothly it seemed to slide into the mad reality around it, and Naronya gasped, sure the vessel would be destroyed momentarily.

But no. Projecting forth from it, like silky wave, he could see the genesis of an energy shield of some sort. It seemed to leap and bound, enclosing within its grasp the writhing aftermath of the Imperiatus bombardment, and even as those fires were smothered, it continued to spread. It drew up like a curtain over and around the Imperiatus fleet, and then new strands shot toward the world below. Those forces on the ground would see nothing more than a shimmering white curtain slam into the ground around the largest Imperiatus strong points and enclose them. Within minutes, it had done its work, and what had moments before been smoking, roaring battlefields were consumed by stunned silence, as if the hand of God Himself had come down and knocked the weapons from the hands of all their wielders.

[Arizona Nova]

They told him, "This is what Hezekiah says: This day is a day of distress and rebuke and disgrace, as when children come to the point of birth and there is no strength to deliver them."

-2 Kings 19:3 NIV


Anandil stormed from the room, his teeth gnashing, and his thoughts in a frenzy. The world had gone upside down; from the moment the etheral glimmering curtain of the newcomers came down, to the present "negotiations," it had been but moments of madness passing from one to the other. Centaurs? Negotiations? Peace? With those Departed monsters?

He stormed out a set of doors and onto the balcony, and began to think as he took in the twisted wreckage just in sight of this hall, chosen for this conference simply because it was least damaged, poring over in his head every moment from the fall of the "curtain" to the present. The hails from the newcomers, these Taurvar, and their insistence on immediately negotiating a peace. The journey down to Carvinia, the happiness at seeing Anikar alive and whole cut short by the business-like and altogether unsettling Taurvar. Most of all, the maddening placidity and compliance with which all the men around him hearkened to their call. Granted, in the heat of the moment, it made sense - they were, after all, about to be annihalated. Yet, it took him only a few moments to strike on the fact that if these Taurvar could stop the Imperiatus in their tracks, and knew as much as they since revealed they did about the Sornei-Imperiatus war, then any species with the least mote of moral guidance would see the Departed aggressors scorched out of this corner of the universe. He came to this conclusion quickly, but when he told Naronya, or anyone else about it, they didn't, almost couldn't, make the connection, as if something had blocked their mind.

"Your suspicions are correct," soothed a familiar voice.

"Anikar," he said, low, not turning from the balcony, or the ashen remains stretched to the horizon before him. "How do you figure?"

"The Taurvar are using a mixture of psychic suggestion and various pheremones on our people - and the Departed as well - in order to negotiate here. Verily, a species whose evolutionary niche seems to be diplomacy. Who knew?"

Anandil grimaced. "They haven't taken me in."

"No," she said, and grinned. "Neither have they taken me, though they tried their best. I'm made of a different stuff. Even though I have a mortal frame, I'm more aware of it than someone conceived in it would be, as you would be of your own clothing. And you, other than possessing an indomitable if simple will, also have my blessings shielding you."

"I'm sure," he said. "Don't you worry about being left out of the negotiations?"

"The Taurvar diplomatically decided to call a short time-out after you stormed out," she said grimly.

"How good of them," he stated bluntly.

Anikar leaned back against the railing. "But, immune as I am, I'm still looking at this rationally, and the Taurvar have some good ideas for making this a peace with honor; for helping compensate us for the damage caused, and for affecting the reconciliation of Departed to Arenumbergian."

"It's not all about honor," growled Anandil. "It's about justice. Justice for the billions slaughtered on New Constantinople, and for every sailor and soldier who has lost his and her life since. Even justice for all the Arenumbergians they killed, though it seems they're quicker to forget injustices from their kin than from humans, if they're hearkening to the Taurvar so easily."

"Insane and obtuse as it is, the Departed have their own story, you know," she said.

"It's no excuse for their actions!" he barked, his head snapping to lock eyes with Anikar.

For a moment, her eyes met his, but the fire in his was the fiercer. She started, then broke his gaze. "What would you do?" she intoned, her voice now flat, and devoid of emotion. "Dismiss the Taurvar and continue with our imminent, inevitable slaughter?"

At this, Anandil's rage smouldered. He looked back out at the shattered landscape. "Death or dishonor," he sighed. "So often a choice. Yet it seems that if these centaur feel they have a responsibility to intervene to keep us from being utterly annihalated, then it follows that they should feel a responsibility for not stepping in sooner, and compensate for that - by making the Departed pay."

"I sense that you mis-appraise both their offensive capability and motives, my heir," Anikar soothed. "They may have the tools to stop a conflict dead in its tracks, but maybe not the tools - or the will - to end it. As well, think of when they finally arrived - after the Imperiatus had exploded enough singularity torpedoes to warp superstrings, in a concentrated salvo."

Anandil spit. "I have never sat well with conservationists that put the unthinking world before human lives," he growled.

At that moment, a male Taurvar came to the door. "Esteemed Empress and Heir-Regent," he said softly. "The conference will be continuing. Won't you soon rejoin us?"

Anandil said nothing, while Anikar simply concentrated on the stonework of the floor by her feet, for a few moments, saying nothing. As the Taurvar made to repeat himself, she spoke up.

"Anandil? What say you?"

His head twisted again, to fix her with a curious stare. "Why do you ask me? You should know the answer by now."

"You are my Heir and Regent," she said simply. "I value your input."

For a moment, he was silent. Then he said,

"No."

The Taurvar blinked. He extended his arm, and said, "But why not, my Lord? Your men have not even left, and are concerned at your's and the Empress's disappearance. They are willing to talk."

Anandil wheeled on his heel, stabbing an accusing finger towards the Taurvar. "No! Only there because they are bound by your devilry! I am not so blind as to not see it, and neither is the Empress." Anikar said nothing, but gave the Taurvar a baleful stare, as it to affirm it.

"If you speak of the pheremones," said the Taurvar slowly, "Or our 'psychic abilities,' rest assured it is not a conscious manipulation. It is but our nature to impress powerfully upon the minds of others. We have never used it to further our own ends..."

"Yet you see fit to use it to move and shift us lesser beings on the board, yes?" snarled Anandil.

"No!" the Taurvar cried in alarm. "We have rarely had any prior encounters with another species, before yours, and even when we have had, it has been to our detriment! We had every reason to keep watching, doing nothing..."

"Irrelevant!" snapped Anandil. "Then it makes you naive; for all your wisdom, you will still not see as we do. You cannot. As it stands, the Empress and I are still the only ones with the authority to negotiate - or not - as we see fit. Once our people are free of your poisonous influence, then they will see our reason."

"Perhaps," said the Taurvar sourly. "Yet your kind still has free will. Many may choose our way once out of our 'grasp...'"

"And those few are free to it, and free to pursue it," Anandil said, cutting off the Taurvar. "But the rest will follow. You are free to pursue your course with the elves and their mad brethren. As for me and my house," said Anandil, "We will have no part in it."

Anikar got up, and strode to Anandil's side. "And if these are the wishes of my heir, then I confirm it."

The Taurvar looked from one to the other, his face creasing with lines of worry, and sadness. "I am sad that you misjudge us as you do. Perhaps we have all made mistakes throughout the course of this war - but you may yet be making the biggest. You could lose everything."

"We've already lost almost as much," said Anandil, his voice low. "And for that, you would simply have me join hands with an enemy more hateful than hell itself. I leave the elves to the elves!"

"And the Anikari will look to the Anikari," finished Anikar.

"Then so be it," said the Taurvar wistfully. "I hope that when your species is not wiped out by the Imperiatus, you will have the good sense to remember our actions this day in saving your fleet, and civilization."

"I'll send thanks as I please," as Anandil brushed past the Taurvar. "And only if it's shown you deserve it."

The two of them roused the human members of the delegation. They raised a protest; the Anikari and elves were Sornei over all, they only continued to draw breath because of the grace of the Taurvar, but soon the iron will and commanding aspect of the Empress and her heir moved them at least out of their seats. They made apologies to their allied elven hosts, though still eyed the Imperiatus delegation evilly, and apologized again to the Taurvar. It would be ironed out eventually, it had to be. The Empress and her Heir would come to their senses. Yet, for many, even as they left the conference hall, they began to doubt the thoughts they had minutes ago. Once outside, some were even demanding that they take what remained of the fleet and make a surprise attack on the Imperiatus. Anandil silenced them all, merely commanding them to return to their vessels and proceed to the post-operational rally point, and inform the field bases beyond the rim of what had transpired that day.

"Yet, one must wonder if Lord Anandil fully knew what that day would eventually mean - the abrupt entrance of the Taurvar into international politics, for one, but most tragically, that the end of the original, foolish rebels had was finally achieved. With one 'No' the dissolution of Ilë Sornë was affected more certainly than the armed mobilization of a million elven rebels had ever done."

-The History of the Anikari, Volume XVIII, Chapter 7

[Arizona Nova]

[center]Epilogue - Ten Years Later[/center]

A solitary figure stood upon a balcony overlooking one of the vast desert wastes of Rhuckh, her thoughts turned inward even as her keen eyes surveyed that hopeless stretch. With herself alone did she hold council now, though she had already made up her mind. It was time.

She turned from that blistering vista, and walked inside - but her pace, her bearing, was all wrong. Gone was the ramrod straight posture and great force, the aura of pride, and most of all, the power; instead she was bent, just short of cronishly, with a pace just a few hairbreadths above shuffling. Her head hung, and she was slightly atremble, as the weight of what had come to pass and what now lay ahead settled on her shoulders all at once.

She passed benches full of huddled figures, all catching what sleep they could in this place. They were barely recognizable: they were now wretched, though but a few months before they might have been diplomats, academics, generals, lords. All their great names and titles had been levelled.

Such were the symptoms of the The Great Breach, the final definitive sundering of Ilë Sornë. It had not ended with the refusal of the Taurvar negotiations: the Anikari wing of the empire, already destabilized by its rapid uprooting from New Constantinople, crumbled in the wake of the news, as many refugees hoping for more certain resolution of the war turned away from their homeland and sought their fortunes elsewhere. Some admirals too, especially those sympathetic to the elven people, deserted, taking with them chunks of the fleet, but more disastrously, links in the chain of command. So weakened, even the will of a demigod could not hold it together. What Anandil and Anikar could lash to them eventually made abrupt "landings" upon Rhuckh, one of the last Anikari-influenced, if Kaleesh occupied, urban centers, their fuel spent. The usual facilities had been abandoned, stolen, ripped apart by war or simply refused entry, already conveniently switching to reserve protocols as the usual shipments of raw material had also been disrupted. From Rhuckh the remnant of Anikari government watched helplessly as the great crystal palace that had been the federal government collapsed inward, angrily making demands at the void without to return its people, even as all the vital organs shut down in cascading failure. Within a space of three years the functional end had come, and for the next seven more and more of those last-loyals gave up and melted into the deserts of Rhuckh, to seek their fortune or just to seek an end, while the rest watched and waited for a country that had left them.

Anikar turned to Anandil's quarter's: a small dusty room, with bare stone walls, a simple bed and a table. By the standards of this hovel, however, it was luxurious. It was fortunate indeed that Anandil hadn't grown up in luxury, otherwise making him swallow these accomadations would have been more difficult. Of all his hardships he had taken this the best, but the strain was now wrote upon his face for everyone to see. Silver streaks cut through his hair, and his face was lined, leathery from the merciless suns of Rhuckh. Rough he had come into lordship, and now in even more haggard shape did he spend his twilight in it.

She prodded his sleeping form; it was well, as the hot morning was approaching and the merciless heat of this place would soon wake him anyway. Groggily, he came back to consciousness.

"I've come to a decision, Anandil," she began.

Anandil was silent, but not out of fatigue - now he was wide awake, in fact. He knew what was coming.

"It has been a hard season," he began, "but already? Aren't you being somewhat hasty?"

"Seasons," Anikar scoffed. "If we'd had nothing but good seasons the past five years it would make no difference. The greater tides of history are unmoved by your successes and setbacks, and the time has finally come."

"You would extinguish what hope we have left," pleaded Anandil.

"Then it would be merciful," she replied wearily. "For by remaining I stretch and torment it beyond reason."

"I serve no purpose here," she continued. "My works are all passed away - from the very first temples this people - my people - built upon Terra itself to the glittering edifices of New Constantinople, and for nigh unto ten-thousand years, I have evaded judgement and skirted eternal law. Now at last, my people are broken, scattered, unrecognizable as the innocent beings I uplifted and enlightened with fire and iron, and my adopted children are alienated to me forever. Nothing remains here for me."

"You have endured worse," insisted Anandil. "Centuries in exile, walking from plane to plane, a homeless vagrant."

"Yet I had a home to come to," Anikar said. "This is no home, these people no family. They are bound to me by fear; all the loyalty or love is squeezed out of them. I would end that torment, and my own; my last act of kindness. I would face judgement."

"Some remain with you without fear," said Anandil.

"They shall be rewarded," said Anikar. "It is heinous for the rest to be subjected, though. It would be better to fade into golden, incorruptible memory than moulder and rot among them."

"As you would have it," sighed Anandil, sliding his legs out of the bed. He cupped his face in his hand, then rubbed the lingering sleep from his eyes. "When will you tell them?"

"Today," she said. "Those who would come are already here."

Anandil sighed. "Then I shall make ready."

The news spread quickly, and jolted the people like little had. The last address that Anikar would make to the people! It was an unparalleled, and altogether unexpected moment; after nearly a thousand years, it was assumed that Anikar was eternal, as constant as the stars themselves. It had never struck them that she too might pass away, and now it seemed, this day, she would.

Into the central mall of the capital of Shilmastak they came; thousands of humans, for once dwarfing the kaleesh who were going about their business, who gave the teeming throngs of Anikari wary or simply annoyed glances as they weaved through the crowds. At midday, Anikar finally appeared in the center of the great square.

She now stood unclad; not naked, but shorn of her humanity and that crude physicality, once again resplendent as one of her timeless race: leaving molten footprints in her wake, and armored by what appeared to be metallic scales that glowed red hot as if freshly forged. Her great white wings vaulted upward, glittering brilliantly like samite, resplendent under the baking suns, even as it seemed that she herself was outshining the twin stars, and she now towered over the form of Anandil, her chosen heir.

"So now we have come," she began, her voice filling the square, "To a day that many - yea, even myself - would have said would be the end of history, the end of time. It is not an end, however, but the beginning of a new chapter in history. Today I Go Back, back to my own place of birth. I go to stand before the Eternal Judge who stands beyond time, space, or any other measure of perceptable or quantifiable measurement. You may be aware, even if you do not know, of my standing - sworn to the Betrayer and the Creator both, and able to serve neither, I went down to man in its infancy. I, along with others of my unfortunate cadre, sought to inspire the Last Creation to works of great virtue and might, and burned into your souls the promethean legends and pantheons that fevered your brains for millenia. We built, we fought, and soon enough we were banished again and our works undone. I have run since then, unwilling to make atonement, holding onto my dream. In the short space of the last twenty years, however, it has been undone. Of the billions, you, the assembled thousands, are all that remains that accounts itself loyal to me.

I do not leave you here alone through fault of your own, my people. The blame is all my own. I say 'my dream' because it was expressly that - my own, forced upon your collective visions, partly through my action and partly through the connection I forged with your race in the depths of time. If it worked, if it was beautiful for a time, it was a happy accident, and as you now see, as fleeting a vision as any.

It is not fair to make it endure, and go from shaping your species as a master work to holding it in thralldom, in the bare hope that one day I can rebuild the shattered dam. My presence holds you all in check, and my doubt clouds your own thoughts, rendering you incapable of the bold action required to rebuild, and start anew.

So today, my people, the last who consider yourselves so, today I go forth from you, today I break the bonds that have held us together over the millenia, through the cataclysms that have wiped the face of four worlds - Terra in the Flood, Aelremdir in the Darkness, Arizona Nova in the Wrath, and now New Constantinople in the Breach. At last, I set you free, to forge your own destiny on your own terms, so that I may finally face my own. Today, all will say that you are broken, that at long last the being that was your patron abandoned you, but all of you will know, and come to know, this is my final gift to you.

To my heir, Anandil, I give the sole inheritance: that the span of his house and all his line that follows him will be double that of other mortals, and until the day when you once again master the secrets of immortality, those days will be precious indeed. Yet even as your lives are doubled, so is the depth of your pride; by it, Ilë Sornë was broken, and by it yet you may rebuild the glory of your race, or cast it into greater darkness than it has yet seen. Rule with prudence, and patience, or be mastered by it.

To you, my people, I can but offer my final farewell. Long will it be burned into your memories, into the deepest wells of your thought, and even your great-grandchildren will have dreams of it in the centuries to come. I foresee only this; that even as we have waned, so have many without, and in the years to come, you will have great oppurtunity to reclaim fallow ground, even yesterday held by greedy neighbors. The choice will be yours whether to rebuild, work, and harvest, or sack, smelt, and move on.

Farewell, Anikari. Farewell too, though they may not hear it, to the elves, my estranged children. Farewell, kaleesh, strong friends and esteemed neighbors in times of sickness and health. Farewell to you Tzoy, wise counselors and ambassadors, unreachable as you are upon your watery world. Farewell to you all."

With these final words, a low rumble shook the square, and in that hour a column of light, bright as a star, descended upon Anikar, and she rose, her arms extended toward the heavens, which now drew clouds in from every corner upon that spot, which boiled and spun about the column as she ascended. Then, all at once, with a mighty thunderclap that radiated forth for miles and miles, the column, and Anikar, vanished back into the void. In astonishment the throng sat, silently processing the terrible wonder that had come to pass before their eyes, and then at once began to shout:

"Anikar! Anikar! Anikar r'Ogna! Satusum thin re wermin cal!"

Though they knew not why, or even what they were saying; the words had simply bubbled forth unbidden from deep places in their memory.

[Arenumberg]

The Taurvar Accords, as they came to be know, solidified a uneasy peace between The Sornei and the Departed. Although the Anikari had left, the transitional government took it upon themselves to sign on their behalf - whether they had the true authority to do so or not.

The Imperiatus, as they had been known - were to return to their own space, to let this experience be the lesson they sorely needed to learn from. The gateway, stabilized in the Heavens Belt would remain open - to be guarded by a Taurvar Clan-ship, its only purpose was to allow reparations from the Imperiatus, and nothing more.

The Heaven's Belt Alliance was dissolved and its constituent parts rejoined to the whole. Although Arenumberg had been occupied, and many had died to opression - the state had come off better than its Anikari counterpart.

Even as the Anikari state floundered and collpased, its other half looked on in despair. Colonies that had, in essence, been Sornei but Elven in nature, became one with the homeland. Even Kelwynd turned, now becoming the capital of Arenumberg.

In time, The Illuminated Union came forth, building upon the painful memories of the past, whilst holding the door open for the divided and dispossessed Anikari to reconcile, only a few ever came - with knowledge lost, to live a breif, but safe life - in the land of the Immortal.

Some time later, M-1, New Constantinople.

New Constantinople had never had a moon before. It did now. No-one really knew why anymore, one day it wasnt there, the next it was. It was a nice enough place, an averagely temperate moon on an average orbit.

Deep within its crust, something worked.

Kertai was a busy Sentient.