Date: 72 PST
This was the first time that Daniela had felt proud of the uniform she wore, of being in the Hatil military. The little cream furred mammal in her military uniform would have also been called “adorable” by any Terrans, but pride was her current feeling. It wasn’t like Daniela hadn’t had a successful career, rising to the rank of Admiral and in command of her own warship after doing her duty willingly. But the simple act of being in the Hatil military was shameful enough on its own.
60 years ago they had launched an unneeded war of shame and idiocy onto their now Terran allies, 60 years ago they had been roundly defeated by the newcomers to the galactic community. Since then the Hatil would have been more than willing to leave the act of having a military to their would be conquerors, as they believed they deserved, but the Terrans were seemingly uninterested in the act of actually conquering others. This had forced the Hatil to have some method of defending themselves: a functioning military.
This required that someone fill these positions. Legally being a member of the Hatil military was like any other job, but culturally it was considered "tainted". The societal solution for this had been simple: the sins of the father.
Daniela had joined the military because her father had, and her father had joined because his mother had been part of that original shameful fleet which had through ignorance and fear attacked their now Terran friends.
Generation after generation of cultural shame, held and remembered. Until now.
The Estorian empire was a collection of five slaving species, all as evil and terrible as the last. Conflict between them and the Terran alliance had been slowly brewing for years, with many Terrans advocating for full military intervention. That had been granted after the Estorians had done one incursion too far, one terrible act too many.
Practically every member of the Terran alliance had pledged some form of military support. The Terran Alliance had every single type of culture and species imaginable, each and every one of them were connected through their friendship with the strange primates of Terra, each and every one of them reacting with the same anger:
How dare they attack our Terran friends.
The Hatil had been part of this. Gone were the days of every single monetary purchase being scrutinised and limited to the barest minimums required to keep pirates and the occasional Tritian warship at bay. The adorable little furred mammals had entered a full war economy, in little under a year boosting their military might to levels not seen since the Hatil - Terran war. If anything considering the major technological advancements the Terrans had provided since then, it was a far greater force.
This time the Hatil wouldn't make the same mistake. This time they wouldn't be against the Terrans, but fighting alongside them. Not a war of ignorance and fear, but for justice and righteousness.
Daniela was the captain of The H.T Remembrance, which was currently part of the Terran alliance’s 2nd joint fleet. Over a hundred dreadnought class warships, all carrying their own support fleets along for the ride. While the vast majority of the forces were of Ritilian, Terran and Hatil make, over 31 different species were in attendance in this particular military endeavour.
Over the past year there had been a multitude of skirmishes and conflicts as both sides rapidly attempted to collate their forces, but this would be the first major engagement of the war. And the Terran Alliance was already on the back foot.
“So we believe the Lelzoil fleet is heading straight towards the Dunwilian cradleworld with an ETA of around about seven hours. We got this intel late, so we are currently 5 standardised hours behind them, at a current projected ETA of 12 standardised hours.”
Daniela spoke to her crew, hundreds of faces looking up at her as she explained the situation to them, the sombre mood apparent as she spoke to new and old members alike.
The Estorians had been the ones to make the first major move, an advantage of having less moving parts to contend with. The Avian Lelzoil were known as the brains of the Estorian Empire, with an affinity for gathering information and technology at any cost, and the move they were making was calculated: Attack an destroy a smaller member of the Alliance, put the fear of god into the rest of the smaller members and break apart untested bonds.
“The Dunwilians have no serious defences, having never been part of any alliances or diplomatic endeavours before the Terran Alliance. It has very little military importance, which is why we weren't expecting a full on assault there. The Lelzoil have enough firepower to glass the entire planet within a few hours. The Dunwilian's reaction was 'You will get here when you can, and we will be witnessed by our deities' "
The mood dropped even further at that. You didn't need a translator to understand that this was a universal statement of 'we are fucked and we know it'.
"We will not let such harm happen to our allies. We might be caught off guard, but we're not out of it. The Olgro scouting guard are already making use of their superior speed to intercept the Lelzoil fleet, while the main fleet hauls ass."
She took a moment to point towards the engineering department as Daniela continued.
"This means until we arrive, I want engineering to be doing everything they can to increase the speed we've got., That means until further notice engineering tasks get the highest priority and are the ones in charge. If someone from engineering says clapping will make us go faster, I expect you all to show that you’re happy and you know it!”
Daniela looked around, at the seat of hopeful faces, those new and old looking up to her.
“We all know our history, what we did, the guilt we share as a species. We all know that the Terran’s had more than enough justification to take their revenge, to destroy us. But instead they provided us mercy, provided us with technology, and most of all provided us with their friendship. They say they saw something in us, something worth keeping around. This is our chance to prove them right.”
—----------------
This had not been what Bolhut had been expecting. He’d been expecting a great many possibilities: being extradited back to Kur space, maybe a reversion of the verdict and back to jail he would go.
“Not Guilty”.
That really had been the strangest thing. Bolhut Tacorg had just over a year ago been a general in the Kur military, during the little “spat” the Terrans and Kur had had. During this period Bolhut had things demanded of him from Kur leadership, things that had seen him placed on the defending side of a war crimes trial.
He had expected the entire thing to be nothing more than a formality: He had fought against the Terrans, it would be a perfectly reasonable thing to humiliate him and get their revenge in one way or another, especially as he had technically done the crime. But instead the strange little primates were continuing to surprise him. Even more surprising had been their acceptance of his asylum claim. The Kur were not happy with the trick he had played on them.
And now… this. A request for aid, a long range message from the Terran Alliance military themselves. An Estorian fleet was heading towards a Terran ally, and he just so happened to be in their path. They wanted them to meet up with some Olgro scouts and work with them to slow their approach. They were offering exceptional pay, and had specifically stated that they were not to directly engage with the enemy, just harass and delay.
In fact they had gone over that detail so many times, that Bolhut knew exactly what they actually wanted.
“So what do you think?”
The insect-like clicking of the Raha’s mandibles interrupted his thoughts, bringing him back to the present. He looked around him for a moment, at the sea of faces and species. “Odds and Ends Security Ltd” was… for lack of a better term, a mercenary group, although the term mercenary was a dirty word. If you needed escorting through pirate infested routes, a show of force or just needed a little extra firepower in order to ensure justice, you could hire them at reasonable rates.
They even had an entire warship, manned by over 400 trained and experienced fighters, each and every one of them a non-Terran Alliance species that now called the Terran space their home. Raha, Kur, Tagaran, they all had similar stories. Seeking Asylum, seeking better lives than whatever their homes had given them, or even just wanting a new arena to test their skills, each had found themselves connected by the friendly demeanour of the Terran’s ever encompassing desire for friendship.
“I say we go for it. Good pay and pissing on some Estorian bastards is always a good shout, no offence.”
Bolhut stood towered over the rest of the members in the room at 9ft tall, white fur covered by his traditional military dress of twisting primal leather which accentuated his ferocious canine teeth and claws. He was not technically the leader of this group, since it was a cooperative of individuals, but by capturing prisoners during the Kur - Terran incursions Bolhut had been one of the few people alive who could claim some sort of victory, no matter how minor, over the Terran forces. That gave his opinion quite a bit of weight amongst this group of misfits and individuals.
“You know there’s no love lost over here. What’s the plan then?”
Kat’Letch’s mandibles clicked and clacked as the young Raha responded. There were three things everyone on the warship knew: Kat’Letch was a decent shot, even better with technology, and had an absolute hatred for his species government.
“We follow the instructions: meet up with the Olgro, then prepare to board and destroy as many Lelzoil war ships as we can.”
The response was simple, but caused a flurry of confused looks from some of the other members of the mercenary band, as well as a flurry of antenna twitching from Kat’Letch.
“Didn’t the message specifically state, repeatedly, not to engage them?”
Bolhut couldn’t help but chuckle at the naive little Raha. Of course Kat’Letch had never actually been in his species military, he didn’t know how the game was played.
“Stating not to do something once is an order, twice is confirmation, five times is simply hinting that’s what they actually want you to do.”
He could see the general agreement from the others around him. Anyone in the military knew that half of your orders would be ‘off the book’ so to say. Hints, power struggles, illegal actions that you couldn’t really say no too without ‘disappearing’. If it worked out whoever gave the order could take credit, and if it didn’t they could point to the obvious trail where they had told them not to do said thing.
That was just how military orders worked, how they had and always would. Why else would the Terran Alliance be so adamant that they don’t directly engage the enemy if that wasn’t what they actually wanted?
—------------
Nothing
The captain of the Olgro scouting fleet had expected to be staring at the Lelzoil fleet. They had expected to immediately be thrust into a delaying action, as every single member aboard the 15 ships were on high alert and ready to do their jobs.
The aquatic based lifeform swam in place nervously, gills and brightly coloured fins flashing as he did so. Like all Olgro ships the entire vessel was filled entirely with the salt water that they naturally lived in.
<
The captain desperately asked his crew for information, the Olgro’s standard method of sonar communication travelling through the water outside the range of most species hearing.
<
Communications responded back with the negative, causing the captain’s stress to increase. While the Olgro were well known for the speed of their vessels, this would be the first major conflict the Olgro army had been part of, and it was already not going to plan.
<
Nobody had really cared too much about the Olgro. Entirely aquatic sapient lifeforms were a rarity in the galaxy and most people didn’t want to deal with the hassle of interacting with a species that needed to be submerged in water at all times.
<
Apart from the Terrans, who had started a friendship with the Olgro nearly thirty years ago, one that they cherished deeply. Which was why this was so important to get right, which was why the captain was already flaring his gills in panic at this already seemingly going wrong.
<
The captain started to get a literal sinking feeling in his gallbladder, a terrible idea had just crossed his mind.
<
Most species tended to think in 2d when mapmaking due to the importance of information. Even Avians have very little need to represent the world on anything other than a flat plane. If you are a species who spends their entire time in water however, depth is suddenly also important
<
This meant that the Olgro had a different method of calculating the angles and latitudes needed to traverse the universe than most others. Normally this wasn’t a problem as the Olgro didn’t have many diplomatic ties and tended to stick to themselves.
Apart from in right this moment, as the captain of the Olgro scouting fleet realised with a crushing despair that they were literally in the complete opposite location then they should be.
<
—-----------------------------------
Bartholomule looked down at the schematics to the warp engine in front of him. Sure it wasn’t a clockwork toy, but engineering was engineering. Surrounding him was the rest of the Engineering department of the H.T Remembrance, along with various screens showing video feeds of every other engineering team in the fleet.
"The problem is you can't just increase the range, you've got to keep each pulse within range of the sensors, unless you want to warp into something."
The Hatil kept silent as a Ritilian spoke, paying attention but still realising how out of his depth he was. Having a degree in engineering and building clockwork toys was one thing, trying to push a warp core past manufacturing limits in a room of engineers with decades of experience was another.
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"It would take a bit of doing, but network the fleet's calculation matrices together, then you get to add the length of the fleet into each jump."
Bartholomule wondered what Rosa and Tim were doing. He knew both of them had also re-enlisted, although he hadn’t managed to keep in regular contact with the two Terrans since then considering that they had gone into the Terran military.
“Nah ain’t gonna work, would take too long to hook everyone up for less than 10% increase”
The difference in both of their reactions had been the most stark. Bartholomule had felt, for possibly the first time, a sense of patriotic pride. Along with practically the entire Hatil culture the concept of not joining the war effort had been unthinkable. The Terrans had done so much for them, it was now their chance to return the favour, to make up for the sins of their fathers.
The Terrans however, their reaction had been different. When the news of what the Raha and by extension the Estorians had done, the difference among Terrans had been stark.
Anger, pure unbridled anger.
“What about the pulse rate?”
If anything, seeing the difference in demeanour had been scary for Bartholomule. The death of the uplift Spot had been said to launch a thousand ships, but in reality it had actually lit a thousand pyres of hate. Before this Bartholomule could never actually understand how Terrans could have done any of the supposed “wrongs” in their history, the crazy primates seemed too goofy and adorable, too friendly and empathetic to do much of anything. But the anger that had been unleashed since then… suddenly he could see a species who were able to crack a planet open with fury alone.
“Theoretically it would work, but each of you would have to deal with the extra heat somehow.”
The groups of engineers from around the fleet each continued to interject and provide suggestions, each ship presumably filled with the same groups of experienced and intelligent people all trying to work out if they could dissipate the additional heat.
It was then that a Terran engineer made a mistake, and said something she probably shouldn’t have.
“Really it’s going to be an individual effort from each ship, but increasing the pulse rate would theoretically work, at the risk of literally setting fire to your ship.”
Because Terrans and non-Terrans heard two different meanings to that sentence. Terrans heard something like “This is a terrible idea that would probably make you blow up” and dismissed the idea, choosing instead to follow other avenues of thought. Every non-Terran heard that as “Yea this is one of those crazy Terran ideas that sets fire to everything but always works for some reason, let's do this!”
Over the next hour every non-Terran ship in the fleet went through the same calculations, the same jury rigged cooling solutions and came to the same conclusion: Like all Terran insanity, it might work.
And much to the horror of every single Terran engineer, the non-Terran ships started to pick up speed as they each enacted this crazy plan.
—-----------------
"So did you know? That caffeine isn't poisonous to Terrans?!"
Kat’Letch screamed out the question as the Raha sheltered behind the console, pausing his furious inputting of commands only to fire back a flurry of plasma from his own pistol.
"Really?! Now is not the time for that!"
Bolhut had just responded with the understatement of the year. Everything had, to put it simply, gone to shit. The Olgro reinforcements they were supposed to have met with never appeared, not that this had surprised the canine. It wasn’t the first time Bolhut had been promised reinforcements that had never come, and it wouldn't be the last. That was just the nature of militaries: sketchy orders and unfulfilled promises.
It had initially gone well, the sheer surprise of a single warship knocking them out of warp and charging an entire fleet had allowed the initial boarding process to go on surprisingly well, the three different groups hitting the three different warships with a practised precision, with surprisingly minimal casualties. The plan had been simple: Infiltrate, take over the navigation and weapons for each ship, use those to cause as much damage to the wider fleet as possible.
Like all plans, it had been going well, until it hadn’t.
“Look, if I’m going to die I want to know. There’s a betting pool on whether you actually knew or not, and I got 50 credits on you knowing caffeine was harmless.”
It had quickly turned into a mess after a “lucky shot” had forced their warship to retreat, which had also taken their main communications network with them. Theoretically their local communications should still work, but something about the Lelzoil was blocking their communications, causing what should have been a synchronised endeavour to devolve into individual teams trying to accomplish whatever individual objectives they had boarded the vessel with.
“Just set this thing to blow so we can get out of here!”
Bolhut’s original team of five was now just him and Kat’Letch, both of them having made it to navigation, where the Raha was attempting to lock out of the rest of the ship’s controls and setting it on a kamikaze path through the rest of the fleet.
The canine gave a another burst of fire, watching the Terran bullets ricochet harmlessly off the doorframe before one finally found their target, splattering a red feathered Avian skull in a plume of orange blood and brain matter before a barrage of return fire forced him back into cover. Still, he had something for that: quickly loading the underbarrel grenade launcher and firing it into the corridor where the attackers were coming from, the sound of screams suggesting a solid hit.
"OK we are done, and need to get the Srek out of here!"
Further explosions and gunfire could be heard as the Raha screamed out the confirmation, signs of the other boarding teams accomplishing their tasks as the Lelzoil warship surged forwards on its final journey.
"Attention all squads. Main objective has been accomplished, you've got twenty minutes to get the hell off the vessel!"
Bolhut wasn't sure if anyone could even hear him on their communication network anymore, and hoped those still around had enough sense to realise what was happening. Not that the canine could spend the time worrying about that: they had their own escape to make.
Bolhut started setting up the explosive devices along the wall, stepping over avian bodies and plasma scorch marks as Kat’Letch provided covering fire. The entrance they had originally entered from had now been completely locked down under a torrent of Lelzoil welded weaponry, but in the short amount of time Bolhut had spent fighting with and against Terrans, he'd learnt an important rule.
Everything could be solved with enough application of explosives.
The wall disappeared in a ball of fire, both of them rushing through the new exit while dispensing a hail of gunfire at anything that moved, any unfortunate Lelzoil who had been caught in the unexpected ship renovation were no match for the pair
“I mean everyone knows that Terrans aren’t affected by caffeine, there’s no way you couldn’t have known.”
The Raha continued to speak as they fired off blasts of plasma to cover their movement down the corridor, generating an exasperated response from Bolhut.
“Still not the time!”
Still they were almost home free, the amount of resistance they were facing had decreased significantly as the Lelzoil realized what was happening to their ship, not that the red feathered birds could do anything to stop the now suicidal charge of their warship.
“You’re just worried that someone will see past your hard exterior to your soft lovable- AHHHH!”
Kat’Letch cried out as a blast of superheated plasma caused the Raha to drop to the floor, Bolhut returning fire at the overachieving Lelzoil before dropping to check on his partner as he screamed in agony. It didn’t look good, the leg was just flat out gone, the stump now spurting the translucent white blood of the insectoid race.
The canine didn’t have time to do anything else other than grab the arms of the Raha and start to drag him along, trying to make his way to the closest escape pod. Making it back to his original fighter was no longer something he had time for.
“Hey Kat, I'm gonna need you to stay awake for this.”
There was a lot of blood and the Raha had started to go silent, worrying Bolhut as he continued to drag him along.
“I’ll tell you what happened if you stay awake, the fact is I got lucky.”
At the sound of this the attention of Kat’Letch seemed to focus on Bolhut as he continued to drag him to hopeful safety.
“When I got the ‘order’ to commit a war crime, I immediately contacted the Terrans because frankly I’m not doing some higher ups dirty work.”
Bolhut dropped to one knee, firing two accurate bursts into the chests of two Lelzoil who turned the corner at the wrong time, both of them slumping to the ground before they knew what had happened. The canine continued on, dragging the Raha longside him, the trail of blood getting thinner. Whether that was a good or a bad thing was anyone’s guess: he was not an expert on the anatomy of other species.
Another splatter of orange blood was added to the wall as one of the Lelzoil had the same idea as Bolhut, attempting to exit the soon to be destroyed vessel via one of the many escape pods that lined the warship. Unfortunately for the avian they had chosen the same exit path as the Kur general.
“But I knew I had to give them something while I waited, otherwise they’d just get someone else to do it. I knew Terrans were immune to some poisons, but I couldn’t remember which one would be safe.”
The doors to the pod opened with a hiss, allowing Bolhut the time to drag his injured partner into the small enclosed space. Moments later the small capsule had launched itself into space, allowing the ex Kur general to actually look at the damage. Kat’Letch was completely out of it at this point, the amount of lost blood clearly having its effect.
Bolhut ripped the medical kit off the wall, opening it up with a grimace as he looked down at the Raha. While every single medical kit in the known galaxy was different, due to differences in physiology, there were certain things that everyone had, that worked for everyone in an emergency. The Kur gave a small silent apology before pressing the item against the wound.
The smell of cooking flesh mixed with Kat’Letch screams as he snapped awake, the wound sealing up as heat was applied, the flow of blood slowing to a trickle then disappearing. The Raha slowly slumped back over as the device was removed, a few moments of heavy breathing followed by the insect compound eyes becoming unfocused once more.
“In the end it came down to Caffeine or Digoxin, both of them destroy the heart, but I couldn’t remember which one was safe. So I flipped a coin. In the end I just got lucky”
Bolhut knew that Kat’Letch was no longer really able to listen, the Kur deciding to take a glance out of the viewport, now that there was really nothing they could do anymore. He could see escape pods and fighters he recognised launching from the Lelzoil warship as the colossal mass crashed into the rest of the fleet, the explosion lighting up the area.
That had been a mess, pure and simple, one that Bolhut hoped the rest of the mercenaries hadn't paid too dearly for. All the ex-Kur general could do now was wait and see if anyone would pick him up, and hope they had done enough damage to delay them.
____________
"Fuck! fuck! fuck! move! move! move! fuck! move out of the way!"
Bartholomule raced down the corridor as fast as his feet could take him, the other Hatil driving out of the way as he barrelled through the ship with the container of coolant in tow.
He barged his way through anyone too slow to move out of the way. Bartholomule vaguely felt himself knock someone with a far higher rank on their ass, uncaring to anything other than stopping the ship from exploding into flames.
It turned out "dealing with the heat" was a far bigger problem than expected. While the remainder of the fleet still travelling with them were going at a blistering speed, the extra strain on the warp cores were quite literally cooking the vessel. Ambient temperature was sitting at nearly 40 degrees as everything the ship had was being diverted into keeping the warp core from exploding.
Bartholomule skidded around the last corner, practically slamming into the wall as the Hatil frantically unscrewed the seal, ignoring the burns on his paws as he did so. The jury rigged cooling system in front of him was not within official specifications, the metres of hastily assembled piping and heat sinks whistled and gurgled as Bartholomule dumped the entire container of coolant into the system before sealing it back up.
It broke every single piece of safety legislation and good practice, but somehow it worked as Bartholomule and the rest of the Engineering department watched the heat from the warp core reduce from dangerously hot to just hot. Before it started to tick back up again.
Just another hour of this.
—---------------
The power went out, plunging the ship into darkness, before lights began to flicker back on as Daniela once again could see the rest of the bridge again. They were here. It had taken everything they had, warning lights flickered and alarms blared as the ship screamed its protests at what they had done. But they had made it, that was all that matters.
"Status report, now!"
There was a pause as her second in command took a moment to look through all the bad information being relayed to him.
"The Lelzoilfleet is already here and approaching the Dunwilians, we have a quarter of our original fleet, although the R.A Broken Egg seems to be on fire. Due to heat damage our shields are at 53%, weapon capacity 27% and impulse engines at 11%."
Daniela took a moment to take in just how messed up the situation was.
"So a standard Monday. Full speed ahead to intercept. We've got to delay for the rest of the fleet."
The mood turned sombre as everyone realised what such an action would entail. It was basically a suicidal charge to do nothing but buy time. It was then that the communications officer looked up.
“We’re being hailed by the Dunwilians, putting them on the main screen now.”
The Dunwilians were unofficially known as a “Horror” species. Most species around the galaxy follow certain rules, convergent evolution means there’s only so many ways to do something. Occasionally however, evolution decides to ignore the rules and throw shit at the wall and see what sticks.
A Dunwilian stands at 8ft tall, a mass of writhing wiggling blue-purple strings tied and wound together into an egg-like shape, punctuated by eyes of varying sizes burning a deep red. All of this is held up with twenty trunk like appendages, each ending in a maw of teeth and slime.
Their appearance caused them to be shunned and ignored, an unfortunate situation as they enjoyed company and despised being alone. Until the Terrans came along they had no friends amongst the galaxy.
Five of them were shown on the screen, each suspended in midair allowing every trunk to access the control panels that surrounded them. Each of them were also wearing a hat of some kind. Early in their interactions with the Terrans they had been taught a single rule which their entire society had taken on board. “Everyone looks more friendly in a hat”. Each of them wore some kind of head covering: a soft woollen beanie, a giant baseball cap. One over enthusiastic individual had stapled three top hats together to form one giant contraption that they wore, clearly taking the logical conclusion that if one hat makes you seem friendlier, three hats would do the same.
“F̷r̴i̷e̵n̸d̴s̵!̷ ̴W̶e̴ ̴w̷e̷r̴e̴ ̴n̴o̵t̶ ̷e̷x̸p̴e̴c̵t̶i̶n̵g̵ ̵t̵o̶ ̴s̸e̸e̵ ̴y̵o̷u̵ ̶s̴o̴ ̸s̶o̸o̷n̴,̷ ̶w̷h̸y̸ ̴a̸r̷e̵ ̷y̷o̸u̸ ̵h̵e̸r̶e̷”
The Dunwilian closest to the screen spoke, the sound of worrying squelches and bone tingling cracks sounding out as they talked. Daniela gave a confused frown before responding.
“We’re here to help defend. Please send an operation plan and we’ll integrate.”
“N̵e̸g̷a̴t̶i̴v̴e̵ ̸o̷u̸r̴ ̸f̷r̴i̴e̷n̴d̷s̷.̴ ̴Y̴o̸u̷ ̴a̸r̵e̸ ̸i̵n̴ ̵n̷o̴ ̶s̴t̸a̶t̸e̴ ̷t̶o̸ ̸p̷r̴o̷v̸i̸d̸e̴ ̵a̴i̶d̶.̴ ̴W̶e̷ ̶a̴r̴e̴ ̷u̷n̸d̶e̷r̷ ̴t̵h̸e̴ ̸w̵a̴t̷c̸h̵f̶u̴l̶ ̴p̸r̸o̶t̸e̸c̵t̵i̷o̶n̸ ̷o̷f̸ {{_̷̩́͑̕_̷̙̮̈́͝_̴̰̦̘̐̅̔_̴͍́̍̚}} (Deity) ̸w̸h̴o̶ ̶s̴h̵a̶l̶l̵ ̶w̶i̶t̴n̷e̸s̶s̶ ̷u̴s̸ ̷a̵n̷d̷ ̶w̴e̴ ̶w̶i̵t̸n̵e̷s̵s̶ ̶t̷h̸e̴m̷ ̶i̸n̶ ̵r̴e̵t̸u̴r̷n̵.̸”
Daniela couldn’t help but feel confused, feeling as if she was having a completely different conversation.
“Regardless, the Terran Alliance does not abandon our allies, we’re coming to help.”
“T̴h̶e̷r̷e̶ ̸i̵s̵ ̷n̷o̸ ̷n̵e̸e̷d̶,̶ ̸p̵l̷e̵a̷s̶e̴ ̸j̸u̸s̸t̴ ̷w̵i̷t̴n̶e̶s̴s̴ {{_̷̩́͑̕_̷̙̮̈́͝_̴̰̦̘̐̅̔_̴͍́̍̚}} (Deity) ̶a̴n̴d̵ ̵t̶h̶e̴y̸ ̵s̴h̵a̷l̴l̴ ̷w̶i̶t̶n̷e̸s̶s̶ ̵y̵o̶u̵.̴”
It was then that something strange started to happen. Right next to the Lelzoil fleet, a point in space appeared, a grey smudge, as if someone was looking upon the world from a monitor with a little bit of dirt on it. Nothing appeared on any sensors, and it could only be seen visually, the entire anomaly being around about a mile long.
It was then with a bang that a seam in space was ripped open. This event would later be analysed by every single scientist, military mind and witch doctor in existence, all of whom would immediately point out that sound cannot travel through space. Yet the bang still appeared, rattling and shaking every surface of every ship in the vicinity.
For a moment there was silence, there was nothing but the emptiness of this tear in space next to the Lelzoil fleet. Then, dwarfing even the largest of warships, a single giant eye opened, containing a fractal purple pupil. It blinked, once, twice, before seeming to focus on the invading fleet. An ear piercing screech could be heard, then the devastation started.
Grasping impossible swirling tentacles containing non-euclidean geometric shapes reached out, plucking warships out of formation as if they were toys, snapping them in half one by one or pulling them into the tear never to be seen again.
A few of the Lelzoil tried to fight back, firing weapons of destruction at their impossible attacker, anti-matter and nuclear rounds alike having no effect on the impossible masses of… of whatever they were made of. It lasted less than ten minutes, ten minutes of an impossible horror, then, with a final screeching bang, the tear closed again. As if it had never happened, everything how it was apart from the lack of a Lelzoil.
“What in the ever living fuck was that!”
Daniela felt all sense of professionalism leave her at what she had just seen, demanding an answer from the Dunwilians who answered simply.
“W̴e̵ ̷d̵o̸ ̴n̴o̸t̶ ̸u̶n̸d̵e̸r̴s̷t̸a̸n̴d̵ ̶t̶h̵i̴s̸ ̴s̶u̸r̶p̷r̴i̶s̵e̶ ̷a̵n̴d̸ ̷c̸o̴n̷f̸u̸s̷i̶o̶n̴,̴ ̷o̴u̵r̸ ̸f̶r̸i̸e̵n̸d̸s̷.̵ ̶W̴e̷ ̸c̴o̶m̵m̴u̸n̸i̷c̴a̷t̷e̶d̸ ̵t̸o̶ ̴y̷o̶u̷ ̷t̷h̶a̵t̷ {{_̷̩́͑̕_̷̙̮̈́͝_̴̰̦̘̐̅̔_̴͍́̍̚}} (Deity) s̷h̴a̷l̵l̸ ̸w̴i̷t̵n̴e̴s̷s̷ ̵u̸s̷”
—-----------------------
[Top Secret]
Analysis of the defence of the Dunwilian homeworld.
This was an unmitigated disaster. Communication issues plagued this entire operation, and without the Dunwilians having what scientists are still calling “Scary lovecraft powers”, we predict the state of the Terran forces would have at best given the Terrans a Pyrrhic victory, with a defeat far more likely.
Continual cultural misunderstandings caused non-Terran forces to implement unsafe ship operating parameters due to an overestimation on Terran risk taking, causing the fleet to both split up and not be in operational condition when arriving.
The external security company the Terran Alliance military attempted to gain aid from took our clear instructions to not directly engage the enemy as a “wink wink nudge nudge” set of instructions, resulting in unacceptable operating casualties of 31%
A mistranslation of coordinates caused the Olgro scouting fleet to go to the wrong location, which would have caused the lelzoil fleet to end up at our defences far too early had the previously mentioned external security company not misunderstood Terran Alliance orders.
Even the entire engagement was the result of a miscommunication: It turns out our Dunwilian allies “worship” several deities that, at least to some extent, seem to actually exist and come to their aid in times of need. We are still working with them to figure out exactly the nature of these defences, and whether they could be replicated anywhere else.
This had not been noted in any records due to the Dunwilians complete lack of diplomatic contact before the Terran Alliance accepted them, meaning they had not been involved in any major military actions. There was mention of a Zyngoill warfleet that went missing around 300 years ago, but we cannot be certain whether this is related.
Overall this bodes badly for the Terran Alliance military as a whole, and major changes need to be implemented to ensure such a thing cannot happen again.
We will not get a second chance.