The Kawmari homeworld hung in the black, a wounded orb surrounded by a shimmering minefield of the dead and dying. Her orbit was not the only portion of the system marred by the clash. A jagged scar reached out from the planet to the jump location of the Vorath fleet. Enemy hulks mixed with Friendly in a slowly expanding cloud of debris that marked the running battle to drive the invasion fleet from the system. Captain Corellus Grarzia, Master under the void of the USN Olyvia sat in his captain’s chair. Olyvia had been patched up using supplies from the Texas, and she was back out at the edge of the system along with Protectorate. They were backed up by Ivar, Martina, Ja’Krin and Squadron-mates. Captain Alveretti and his squadron were largely intact, loosing only four of their fifteen ships. Howler himself had quadruple aced in the final battle, with Buzz and Woody both taking seventeen kills apiece. Both capital ships and fighters were strung out in a picket formation, serving as early warning in the aftermath of the battle. Their foe was driven from the system, but their total numbers were largely unknown.
“Captain, incoming transmission. Codes match” the report barely superseded a flash of a slipspace breach. A massive egg-shaped station broiled out of slipspace. It was a technique first used under the late Admiral Burgoyne. Five ships separated themselves from the GHO station, taking it under tow towards the beleaguered planet. The formation of station and her stewards were not alone. No less than 4 Delmar Cruisers, the newest breed of Delmar Hulled, hybrid armed warships, exited alongside, and took up their defensive positions. The final arrival would have been completely unnoticed, had it not been running all exterior lights and activated its Beacon.
*Olyvia, this is Concord. Request permission to dock and come aboard* Admiral Grarzia’s voice drew a raised eyebrow from Cory as well as a few mutters from his crew.
Cory pushed a button on his armrest, tapping directly into the frequency, “Of Course, Admiral. We’ve become quite practiced at accommodating starfighters at this point.”
*Thank you. Have the squadron and yourself pull back for now. Protectorate shall suffice as picket* Mac ordered, slipping Concord smoothly alongside Olyvia as the two turned toward the planet. Soon enough R’Cari, Sombra, and the rest of the fighters fell alongside for their journey back to Tharsis. Concord gave a wing wave to her fellows before slipping up to Olyvia and hooking up.
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Cory made it to the airlock just in time to see his sister, Lyrian, emerge through it, almost running to her brother to give him a very human hug. “Oof! Lyri! Its good to see you too.” Cory sputtered, completely failing to maintain any semblance of captainly bearing. Mac was more sedate in his entry into the ship. Snapping off a few salutes, and greeting a few friends with handshakes before offering one to Cory. “This is a bit of a surprise, both of you. What brings you two out here.”
Mac released Cory’s hand and smiled, “I had to congratulate my Commanders in person, and Lyri seems to have a thing about letting me go galavanting around active war zones alone. I’m also here to facilitate introductions. I’m sure you noticed a few familiar hulls towing the GHO platform.”
Cory nodded, “I did, I hadn’t realized they were ready. Do I know any of the captains?”
Mac only smiled, “That would be telling. Don’t worry, we will all be meeting aboard the Gally. I have it on good authority that Admiral Karmarin and Bill had quite the adventure in her.”
“Aye Sir. The Galveston fought well. Will she be your new flag, Sir?” Cory asked. The three of them were walking Olyvia’s corridors for her captain’s office. Cory activated the door, waving the two through before entering it himself.
“I’ve proposed that Harrison and Karmarin stay permanently paired aboard Galveston. The UGN is in dire straits, and having their high admiral able to both coordinate with us and traverse Unity space at speed appears the prudent option.” Mac stated just as the door chime rang.
Lyrian reached over and activated the door and Jackie Young stepped through with a pad in her hand. “Oh! Excuse me! I didn’t know we had company. Welcome aboard Admiral. Captain Grarzia I…” Jackie was startled to a stop as Lyrian stepped up in front of her.
“You’re Doctor Young.” She stated sternly, eyeing the Human woman with a severe gaze.
“I am… Mrs. Grarzia is it?” Jackie leveled a confused and annoyed gaze at Lyrian. “Is there a problem?” The two of them seemed to stare each other down before Lyrian broke into a wide smile and scooped the shorter Jackie into a not quite crushing hug.
“You patched up my brother, and saved my brother-in-law.” She paused, taking a discreet sniff before stepping back and looking into Jackies eyes, “and it appears a welcome to the family is in order.” She said before hugging her again. “I was wondering why Cory was always busy, now I know.” She nodded approvingly, turning back to see Mac and Cory staring at the two of them with amused expressions. “What?!”
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“Offload decks 17 and 19 first! We need to get the atmosphere stabilized first before we can begin on the topsoil!” Saurian Ambassador Ami watched as orders were given out. She was back where she belonged. Years ago now, Ami had graciously accepted the position as ambassador to the Sol Federation, and her duties kept her close to two of her closest friends Gwen Trenton and Silu. Her life’s passion, however, lay in raining down life-saving aid and rescue efforts upon traumatized worlds. She was not technically in command of this platform, and a point of pride swelled as she witnessed its well-organized operations. Her niece, the one she had apprenticed to test her metal, was embarking on her final test to become a fully accredited coordinator. The final GHO coordinator test was always the same. The aspirant, under the careful eye of a veteran coordinator, was to prove themselves among the stars. Her niece’s final exam was to provide aid to the war-torn world of Rawkir, but that was not why Ami felt the pride she did. No, her niece had expressly requested Ami as her Presider. To be requested by an aspirant was rare, and Ami was honored to preside over her niece’s final test.
“Double check the pressure canisters on deck 44. Engineering reported a power fluctuation in their containment power supplies.” The younger, and considerably sorter Saurian lumbered up to her Aunt. “Aunt Ami. How was your trip.”
“My dear, I am contented. Truth is, I’ve missed being on a platform; even with their more confining spaces.” Ami smiled down at her niece. Even as they talked, she was taking stock of different notifications as well as her immediate surroundings. “So, Turrasile. Explain to me the offload you have planned.”
Turrasile nodded, taking stock of her pad before responding, “The topsoil in the combat area is heavily degraded from the ordinance and contaminations of war, but the planet could heal that well enough. Our primary problem is with sabotage. The Vorath appear to know how to poison an eco-system, and they set fire to every manufactory in their possession as they retreated. That was Before their remnants released a cloud of improvised chemical poisons into the air. We are seeing a rapid cascade effect that could render the planet’s atmosphere unbreathable within the month if left unchecked.”
“Hmm, I concur,” Ami stated. As much as her job was to test her student, the GHO allowed for the Presider to ensure that the testee was not allowed to follow through on any mistakes, and Ami had full overruling authority as well as the right to take full control should she feel it warranted. “So, aerosolized counter agent?”
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
“Not this time, at least not the traditional kind. The area is too great. A standard pneumatic Aerosol would not have the desired effect quickly enough.” Turrasile stated, pulling up her pad, “The Human and Delmar specialists were kind enough to analyze some of the particles, and I believe we can utilize a catalytic reaction to burn out the poisons before the damage becomes unrepairable. There are a few chemicals, harmless to the ecosystem as a hole, that can soak up the poisons and render both completely inert.”
“I… see your point. You wish to disperse an absorption agent; but I fail to see a dispersion method.” Ami looked at her student expectantly.
“I watched the records of the first Human engagements here. I believe we can use this…” Turrasile turned her pad to face Ami and played the simulation, stifling a giggle at her aunt’s flabbergasted expression.
“I… see… It's ingenious, and possibly even a little poetic. Do the Humans have enough of these?” Ami asked.
“I’ve already been in contact with Admiral Stevens. He has approved. It will take all of the rest of the SOARD’s on hand to do it, but it will be enough.” Turrasile smiled.
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Centarus sagged into his office chair. He had not slept in over a week, and the doctor-proscribed stimulants were quickly losing their effectiveness. The reports, however, were all finally published. The situation was grim. The majority of his fleet over Rawkir was gone. Less than a quarter of his men on the ground had made it out, and fewer still had been on one of the few surviving ships that hung about their hidden asteroid base. His options were limited, but they were still options. Many of the races recorded in the histories as weak were both proven to be so, yet still considered valuable after a fashion. The conquered worlds of the foothold would lend him a bounty to rebuild while he waited for the main fleet to arrive.
The Thermians were taking to the first stages of their ascension. Centarus had authorized the first of the genetic augmentations, just enough to give the lizards a taste, but not enough to create a threat for himself. Kar was proving to be an able tactician, having made quick work of the worlds he arrived at, but in the grand size of the Unity, progress at the speed of subspace was still slow. Still, thousands of worlds stood to provide him with the material, sustenance, and raw material needed to hold his current territory and rebuild. To that end, the last of Centarus' orders had been dispatched to his regional commanders. The instructions were simple. Squeeze. Drive hope from the worlds in Vorath grasp. Force them to mine, farm, harvest, and build for him. He would focus on the worlds with the most to give, consolidating his shows of strength to silence descent. It would be a tricky play. Keeping his ships on the move to terrorize sequential worlds into compliance would cost him fuel and time, but it would be done.
Centarus groaned in his seat, preparing to stand when a flashing message appeared on his screen. He annoyingly opened it, ready to respond to another sniveling commander begging for scraps..
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Correllus Grarzia stepped into the conference room aboard USN Galveston. Admiral Grarzia was already there, speaking to several of the captains. Cory noticed a few faces, Dozer gave him a smirk and a quick salute from over in the corner with another Human who boasted a defined drawl in his voice. Most of the other captains of the retrofitted troop transports turned privateers were unfamiliar to him, save for one. Cory’s eyes widened as Hera, wearing a USN uniform with captains insignia, approached him with a wide smile before giving him a tight hug. A further surprise revealed itself when Jacob Irving saunter up behind her wearing the camouflaged pattern adopted by the combined infantry divisions of Sol and Signar.
Cory raised an eyebrow in surprise at the two, “What’s going on? I thought you guys were on the homeworld!” he exclaimed.
“We saw what happened to Karmarin, and what was going on with Rawkir. Originally we were going to use Traveler, but one of the captains had to leave for Sol because of a family situation. Hera reached out to Mac and here we are.” Jake explained, stepping up to take Hera’s hand. “It's not quite the honeymoon we planned but, I’m sure we’ll find plenty of interesting places, meet interesting people, and- OOF!” Jake was interrupted by an elbow driven into his side by a smirking Hera.
“Honeymoon… Your parents approved?” Cory smiled broadly, “Congratulations!” He was about to say more when Mac cleared his throat loudly, bringing all conversation to a halt.
The man who was possibly the sole being responsible for the current chance of defeating the Vorath slowly walked toward the central table. Admiral Grarzia slipped a stick into the controls and quickly pulled up the grim map of Unity space. It was a grim reminder of the shattered state of things, and Mac let the image settle into their minds before beginning. “Ladies, Gentlemen, and yes, Marines.” There was an obtrusive snort from the corner of the room where Collins and Galanis stood. “We are all finally here, with completed ships. Thanks to Captain Grarzia, we now have an idea of just how effective these ships can be in the right hands.” Mac nodded to Cory and a few captain straightened, regarding him more seriously. “Our Mission, Captains, will be one of subterfuge, sabotage, and insurgency. From our records acquired in Operation Library, we know that the Vorath will enslave planest that are of value, and murder weak people to have their planets repurposed. Our goal, is to help those planets become a pain in the Vorath's ass. We will be taking and sinking shipping, both military and otherwise. You will notice Captains Collins and Galanis are with us today. They will stand up two MACE teams that will be floating amongst our ships as the mission dictates. Each vessel will have its own small complements of combined infantry. One of our goals is to liberate enslaved and captured civilian shipping. We wish to cripple their ability to wage war, but we will be rescuing who we can, and facilitating the resistance of those who are willing to fight.” Mac typed again into the table’s controls. “You will be operating semi-autonomously. Outside of regular check-ins and an Area of Operations buffer system, you will be largely free to create, plan, and prosecute any missions you see fit. While limited, you will have backup should you need it, and give any lead time required before starting your mission. By now, all of you know of R’Cari, Sombra, and Concord. They will be acting as a rapid response, and stationed from a mobile flagship we will be using as a base. Any question.”
“Admiral,” It was Galanis, “Which boat will be your flag, and how much ass will she be capable of pulling out of the preverbal fire.”
“The second part of your answer is, a lot.” Mac smirked at the grizzled marine, “She will be Concord, R’Cari, and Sombra’s base of operations. These are not fighters as you have understood them. They will be acting in a more limited capacity, but still with the same mission as your own. All three are capable of long-term solitary operations, and will often be used as such. This is one of the reasons we will need lead time on any missions in which you foresee backup being required. The first part..” a satisfied smile told them they would find out soon enough.
“Admiral, what will be our rules of war?” Jacob asked carefully, “I just wish to know our limits.”
Mac smiled menacingly before turning serious, “None.” He stated flatly, “I have hand-picked each and every one of you because of your experience, tenacity, and intelligence. The Vorath have asked for total war, and we will give it to them.” More than a few smiles flashed about the room. “There will be only one rule, Be the monster THEY fear, not the one you fear in yourself. Any more questions?” There were none, and Mac pulled up a final sequence of numbers, “We depart from these coordinates in twelve hours, Dismissed!” Every spine around the table straightened as Mac departed the Conference room.
The next twelve hours were a flurry of activity. A gigantic supply vessel, the DDS Tiny Tim was a freshly commissioned vessel. She was nearly half the size of the GHO response platform, and carried both supplies for the relief effort as well as a full rearming of every one of Mac’s fleet. His insurgency fleet did not have a name, and that was sure to solve itself in time. Cory and Jackie spent an afternoon meal with Jake and Hera before they departed for their vessels. Work continued through the night, and Cory was impressed by his acquired tolerance for human levels of caffeine. Olyvia was as good as new when she arrived at the coordinates with a vast twenty minutes to spare. Over the next few minutes, each vessel pulled into position awaiting the flagship. Exactly at twelve hours, Admiral Grarzia arrived aboard USN Wisconsin. The Titanic Battleship was not a ship of the line, But Mac had chosen her specifically because she was not. They would be fighting in quick, hit and run engagements. There would be no time to traditionally deploy and recover fighters, and the three vessels that could be called fighters in a pinch, were fully capable of jumping for themselves. Wisconsin’s singular shuttle bay had been retrofitted to service and house Concord, R’Cari, and Sombra, and she had received a fresh stealth coating after the conflict over Rawkir. She, not requiring the bulk need to house fighters, was better accelerating and nimbler in a fight than any Ship of the Line. She was every bit the perfect tool her namesake would be proud of.
Mac looked over to meet the eyes of her commander, Captain Thomas “Bull” Fuller. Thomas was a full head taller than Mac but weighed very nearly the same as the Admiral. He had earned his moniker in the first battle of Ceres, where he turned port broadside on in front of three Martian cruisers and a carrier to bodily protect his outgunned escorts. Bull Fuller had closed to grips with the enemy, single-handedly trading blows with those warships while his escorts, laden with civilians from Ceres, were able to escape. Wisconsin had come home heavily wounded that day, almost half her four-thousand-man crew critically injured and a third of them killed, but those four Martian warships did not come home at all.
“Board is green Admiral; all vessels are data-linked and ready” Bull stated formally with just a hint of a Boston accent.
“Thank you, Captain. Take us out.” Mac stated, settling into an auxiliary chair next to the captain’s own command chair.
The USN Wisconsin, flanked by a small flock of her cohorts, flashed into slip space, and made for enemy territory.
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He woke up. How long he had been in bio stasis was unknown. What was known, was the pain. His bones prominently creased his skin, frail emaciated flesh clung to him as he looked around slowly at his surroundings. He was among friends, on a bio bed. He as restrained, but that was standard for a situation such as his, and he opened his mouth to speak. A weak wrasp left his lips, but it was enough to draw the desired attention. A cup was brought to his lips, and he sipped cautiously all too aware of the dangers of becoming to greedy.
“Thank you.” He rasped.
“Do not speak. You will be restrained for at least another day. Your body as not prepared for its slumber, and you are in a precarious position.” The doctor stated, setting the cup down before examining the bed readings.
“Thank you..” he got out.
The Doctor only nodded a small formal bow, “An honor, no thanks are necessary. Welcome back Legarus.”