STGOD: DAS: Main Game Thread.

[Cincinnatus]

Coalition of Nations
Earth

The order from the King had said to be cautious in throwing support behind the Heralds, but now that Khurlassian Republic had spoken in their favor and the Polish had guaranteed their independence, Kesreg now had much more freedom in how he spoke.

He took the podium, and did his best to look gravely out at the assembled diplomats.

"Assembled representatives of the nations of the galaxy," he began, "King Mistem 'Hammer Blessed' Enshallogem applauds the actions of the Polish Republic in their guarantee of indepedence for the Heralds of Xylyx. He also instructs me to extend a similar guarantee from the Kingdom of Isdenestilom. He belives that a full investigation must be undertaken, and, until then, that the NGTO's armada must refrain from taking aggressive action.

"It is obvious that the NGTO is using a flimsy, perhaps even manufactured, pretext to go to war against a power that they believe no one will stand up for. They are wrong. As many of you may know, King Mistem 'Hammer Blessed' Enshallogem was educated on Earth. He has studied the history of Earth, and he finds a remarkable similarity between the actions of the NGTO and the actions of the German state in the mid 20th century. They are trying to expand their dominion over more and more space, more and more sentient beings, while hoping that the interstellar community will just stand by and do nothing.

"Isdenstilom will not stand by and do nothing. The NGTO's warmongering must be stopped. I urge that the rest of this Coalition also commit itself to standing up against the blatantly illegal actions of the NGTO."

Kesreg then left the podium and retook his seat.

[Bugsby]

"Sir," came the call from the still-docked Oberin shuttle. "Dwarven shuttle is en route to our position now. They should be ready to dock in about a minute."

"If you'll excuse me a moment," Trellen nodded to the Wanderer, then headed back towards the cockpit to speak to the pilot. "Open a com to the Dwarves. Welcome them, and invite them to help us with our ongoing investigation. The dwarves' skill in engineering is well-known. Ask for their help in examining the missile blast points and any other damage to the freighter. I want a full story of how this attack went down, beginning to end."

[Nephtys]

At the boundries of explored space

By accident or design, most of the sentient races through this galaxy rose through the machinations of evolution on those tiny specks of gravel called Planets. They were nurtured and cared for by their comfortable, stable environments from the harshness of space. They were protected by layers of gravitationally-bound gasses from deadly cosmic radiation. They were safe, knowing that the stars were only little pricks of light in the sky, often invisible save for the brief hours their system primaries turned away from them.

However above all, they were vulnerable.

...

Within the burning hearts of stars themselves, a call penetrated into the consciousness of millions of beings, unlike any other encountered. Struggling against the great heat and gravitational bindings, the strongest broke through, emerging with scarred kilometer-long bodies into the relief that was cold space. Like in birth, many were aimless at first. Unaware of their strength or purpose.

But that was before the call came. Something had disturbed a part of them, a seed that prepared stars for their arrival.

Some twenty thousand turned and began to move together, twisting and taking up a formation programmed within them by the riggors of their evolution. They became a great helictical shape, burrowing through the void until each being began to thrust at space to penetrate into the immaterial. There, they could cross even the distances between stars.

They would seek that which called them.

[Shinn Langley Soryu]

New Australia
New Canberra
Presidential Palace

With President Mitsuishi's departure to Earth to attend the Coalition of Nations meeting in person, Vice President Amanda Hasegawa was left to manage the daily affairs of the CCS. In all likelihood, President Wisniowiecki of the Polish Republic was unaware of this fact when he had a message sent to the consulate on New Australia, addressed directly to President Mitsuishi herself. When it finally arrived in Vice President Hasegawa's hands, she watched with intense interest as the Polish potentate explained the situation at hand via a small, high-resolution holograph.

Once she was done viewing and digesting the contents of President Wisniowiecki's message, Vice President Hasegawa immediately ordered an emergency meeting of the remaining Joint Chiefs of Staff; Flag Admiral Hernandez and Marshal Nguyen had departed along with President Mitsuishi to Terra, leaving the other Joint Chiefs to more or less manage themselves. Fleet Admiral Helen Hwang was the first to arrive on the scene. "I would assume that this is about the situtation unfolding to the north, I take it?" she asked politely.

"No shit, Helen. Of course this is about the situation unfolding to the north," Amanda shot back. "I just got a communique addressed to President Mitsuishi from the Polish Republic explaining just what's up with the NGTO. In any instance, I'm just glad we turned down their invitation to be a part of that organization. However, it looks as if we're gonna be caught up in this mess either way. What do you think we should do, Admiral Hwang?"

Before Fleet Admiral Hwang could formulate an appropriate reply, the rest of the Joint Chiefs came in: Marshals Aleksandra Santos, Edward del Real, and Mari Obata, Marshal of the Air Force Michael Nishikawa, and Fleet Admiral Heather Herrera. "Okay, the gang's all here," Amanda exclaimed. "Good. Now we can really get to business."

The new arrivals shot off a brief salute before taking their seats; Fleet Admiral Hwang remained standing as Vice President Hasegawa replayed the message for their viewing pleasure. Once it was finished, there was quite a large amount of murmuring among the other Joint Chiefs. "I see now," Fleet Admiral Hwang remarked. "So, this is just an attempt by the NGTO to grab the Heralds' advanced manufacturing capacity for their own use?"

"It would appear so," Marshal del Real replied, tugging at the collar of his gakuran. "The Pole said so himself; if the NGTO has the Heralds' factories in their iron grip, then the entire northern sector of known space will be theirs. Once that's accomplished, the north will come south, and they'll come south big time. Guess who's gonna be at the top of their hit list? Us."

"However, judging from what little we know of the Heralds of Xylyx's military capability," Marshal Obata interjected, "we know that they're extremely tough and resilient little buggers. If the NGTO's gonna try to pacify them suitably, they're gonna be in for a long and hard fight. It should give the Coalition more than enough time to decide on a course of action, and it should give us some time to prepare a proper offensive response."

----------

Sol
Terra
Katowica Space Elevator

The Char Aznable touched down on one of the space elevator's many landing platforms without incident, having received an arrival vector and landing coordinates just a few minutes earlier; luckily for President Mitsuishi and her crew, they managed to land before right before the incident involving the League of Thought shuttle. President Mitsuishi, Marshal Nguyen, and Flag Admiral Hernandez disembarked from the destroyer, followed closely by an honor guard of six female Congressional Space Command Marines, all wearing body armor over their sailor fuku and carrying Fabrique Nationale P90s and Five-seveNs.

President Mitsuishi and her party were immediately greeted by a Polish courier carrying a small package. "You must be President Elizabeth Mitsuishi of the Congress of Colonial Settlements, right?" the courier asked in perfectly fluent English. "President Wisniowiecki asked me to deliver this to you upon arrival," he said further as he handed over the package to the president. "The Coalition meeting is just down the elevator, on Sant Tomas. Just follow me there."

The courier immediately departed for the elevator proper, with President Mitsuishi and her party following shortly behind. "What do you suppose is in that package?" Flag Admiral Hernandez asked.

"Beats me," President Mitsuishi replied. "I'll take a look at it when we're finally on solid ground."

[Cincinnatus]

"Open a com to the Dwarves. Welcome them, and invite them to help us with our ongoing investigation. The dwarves' skill in engineering is well-known. Ask for their help in examining the missile blast points and any other damage to the freighter. I want a full story of how this attack went down, beginning to end."

Engineer Jargrim Vonral, the leader of the landing team, listened to the message from the Oberin shuttle, and nodded.

"Alright dwarves, here is what we will do. Engineer Gloral Maeft, you and your team suit up and take a look at the missile impact site. Engineer Maisas Aest, you take a flyby around the entire freighter and see if you can spot anything. The rest of you will check the interior of the freighter once we dock while I talk to the Oberin and the Wanderer that are already on the ship. We'll compare anything we'll find to the Kaloum's database, see if the missile type or anything else matches any known pirate group or previous attack."

[Covenant]

Somewhere south of Golden Sky Combine space

"I understand that you are to be our escort to this meeting place. We will follow your lead whenever you are ready."

The Aurora-class vessel righted itself, and squeaked off a jet of space-cold gas, turning it ever so slightly back towards one of the planets--an airless rock pockmarked with craters and covered with a layer of rockdust and ice that only made it look dirty and unkempt. There was a burst of static from the small black ship as it began coasting towards the planetoid, which blossomed into electrostatic interference as well. The listening post was opening it's doors.

A vast section of the outpost peeled away, the dustdunes held in place apparently by covertly placed magnetic field generators, and under was revealed a gaping hole that would serve relatively well as a landing pad. It was little more than a hollowed out ravine at first look, but there did appear to be some variety of servicing equipment, even if it was only sparsely populated. It seemed unlikely this outpost saw much space traffic. A puff of atmosphere leaked out between the plates as they retracted, squeezing out as a murky cloud mixed with ash. The Aurora hovered above the gap.

"This is where you'll want to put down. We land elsewhere. There's a navigational beacon that should be pinging you with landing instructions," the Troodon pilot stated in clipped tones. "See you around."

It submerged partially back into hyperspace, cloaked, and drifted off to parts unknown.

Extremely Shallow Space
Sol Sector
Somewhere above the orbital plane
Meteor-class Transport SSP-451
Teatime

"I don't see it." Rus the rex squinted.

"Iseit! Itzaboat!" Chik leaped up and down, the living embodiment of bionocular vision.

"It's not a boat, it's a galleon," Juk chided, allowing the Magic Eye to drift back into the rear compartment as he lofted it dismissively over his shoulder. In the zero gravity it hung there, and the Tyrannosaur squeezed his head in an arc trying to follow it and see the boat. All he saw was geometric haze.

"A galleon is a boat," the Tyrannosaur retorted, and pulled his head from the cabin in annoyance. Nobody had been willing to play Mindtrap with him, and the Earth-themed entertainment was quickly growing on everyone's nerves but Chik, who was quickly growing on everyone's nerves. The Velociraptor pounced on the sheet as it tumbled, digging his toeclaws into it and pressing his eyes flat against the surface in amazement.

The long trips through space while cloaked were as dull as could be imagined. Being cloaked required that the ship remain submerged in Hyperspace, which also meant that you couldn't look out the windows and expect to see anything, even if there were windows on a Meteor. Which there were not. Furthermore, the requirements of moving silently meant that nothing could be leaked, not even heat, so there was nothing activated on the ship, not even running lights. There was a low-power flashlight, and this was all they had to play by. Roadtrip games were an absolute necessity for all cloaked vessels, especially E.L.P. assigned ones.

Since no heat was allowed to leak, and any EM interference whatsoever was also inadvisable, the ships were hard-wired to shut down all systems besides the cold-fusion reactor and the cloak. The cloak did nearly a perfect job of masking the reactor's meager heat bloom, but it was not perfect, so there was always the chance of someone suspicious if you changed direction a lot. To combat this, courses were pre-plotted. Space debris was not uncommon, and as the SSP-451 slid into Earth space at a rate of several tens of kilometers per second, the craft looked little more than a piece of Oort debris falling in from the icepack. It had helped that they decided to kick an icerock off on an equal trajectory, and were following it in behind the corona.

The threat wasn't, of course, the sun itself--which was the target. The threat was Earth. Or Mars. Or even the Jovian microsystem of nearly one hundred small and obsessively fortified pieces of rock. It seemed that anything large enough to accomidate two size ten sneakers had been coated in armor, flags, and weapons. The Cretaceans did not approve, but they were merely absentee landlords at this point, and the current residents seemed more interested in fighting over dirt than insuring there was any dirt at all left. The Sun was an unusually obstinate piece of real estate, however, and much more difficult to fence in.

Cold and silent, the Meteor travelled towards the sun on a more or less ballistic trajectory, having already made one minor pass and now on the backswing of a steady descent towards surface. It was not alone though, even if you discounted the hissingly preturbed icerock that sputtered and coughed out jets of steam in front of it. For within the main ship clamps of the transport, like a dog carrying a massive bone in front of it, was a Custodian egg. The Custodians were neurotically fastidious about space, but did occasionally branch outwards in order to deposit one or two of these massive pods into space, laying the foundation for a future nest some millenia down the line. Generally it could take thousands of yerars, or tens of thousands, for one to find it's way into a star. Today it was getting the red carpet treatment.

"Think we're close enough?"

"I think we are," Juk replied, watching the timer count down past the 'target zone'. The timer was on an independant power source, little more than an overly elaborate egg timer, and so it did not risk giving off detectable fields or signitures unless the enemy had developed sensors to scan for clockworks. It made sense to wait a bit past, as the exterior of the sun would not begin to damage the hull for some time, but would provide an excellent shield against detection. Just because they were on the far side of Earth did not mean other eyes were not watching. Saturn, particularly, was terrifyingly close.

The Meteor's clamps let go, pushing back off with a release of coiled tension. The massive space pod spun off on it's course, drifting leisurely towards the sun. Though the gravity of the star assured it would breach the surface before too long, the massive density of the flaming gasball assured the pod a long and slow descent to the bottom. SSP-451 had sunk it into a dark spot, but that was the best they could do.

"Wahagee! We diddit!?" Chik scrambled along the roof of the ship, suddenly finding himself pulled downwards as the gravity from the sun providing a feeling of right-sidedness that did not match the 'rockets face up' design style of the Meteor.

"We'll be doing it sometime within an hour," Juk corrected. "Now we need to coast off and avoid being eaten alive by mammals."

"I think we should leave something special, to make sure they don't come after us," the Tyrannosaur replied, listening as he was through the corridor despite his frustration with the earlier games. "Something special."

The pilot quirked a feather and peered back. "Anything in mind?"

Decaying Solar Orbit
Sol Sector
Somewhere behind Meteor-class Transport SSP-451

A puff of atmosphere, and several small blinking devices tumble out into space. Quietly, they hum to life. While too small to sea at the moment, a handful of them follow behind the pod, arrayed to stand as sentinels behind it.

The Meteor-class itself blinks into realspace for a moment, swallowing in sensor data like a whale breathing at the surface, disgourging a jet of cold compressed gas to orient itself away. Engines flare for but a moment against the raging heat of the sun, and the vessel begins to settle into an orbit that will fling it safely out of the solar system.

[Agent Fisher]

General Transmission
FROM: The Office of the President of the Polish Republic
CC: All Nations

"My fellow sentients. The Polish Republic has looked on at the unfolding situation in the Northwestern Reaches of the Explored Sphere with increasing worry. At this time, the situation is dangerously unclear and explosive. It is becoming increasingly clear that the nations of the North Galactic Treaty Organization are going to react to the alleged Herald attack through military measures. The Polish Republic finds that fact disturbing to say the least, and finds the premise of a small, essentially harmless border raid launched for no reason by a much weaker nation to be a poor excuse for agressive war, even considering the strange and unknown nature of the Heralds themselves. In fact, the Polish Republic has itself been the target in the past of "defensive wars" launched by far larger and stronger foreign powers under flimsy, manufactured pretense. Of course, at this time it is uncertain as to the precise nature of the events in the Nephilim territories so far, and we would certainly not oppose an NGTO action should the allegations prove true. However, first we believe strongly that convincing, public proof should be produced- and indpendently verified.

At this moment, in the forum of the Coaltion of Nations, our diplomats are working closely with the member nations of the NGTO to arrange such an investigation, but until such an investigation has been completed to our satisfaction, the Polish Republic is officially guaranteeing the independence of the Heralds of Xyxyl. We ask that the NGTO kindly cease it's military preparations and movements and turn it's attentions to more civilized forums so that we can find the truth of the matter, as a community of nations, and decide whether this is in fact a just cassus belli."

To all Nations
From: Republic of America President John Garza

The ROA will also guarantee the independence of the Heralds of Xyxyl. We also request that the NGTO stand down it's military forces and allow diplomacy to prevail.

[Tanasinn]

OOC: (Reposted here for reader convenience. Announcement occured after the Kingdom of Isdennestilom made their declaration.)

Coalition of Nations
Earth

High Diplomat Chul was once again consulting his aides in whispered tones, his utterly alien gestures unreadable to anyone unfamiliar with the Khurl. It was clear he was finalizing something, and judging from the checking of datapads and the long lines of discussion, it was something that the Republic considered important. Finally, the Khurl concluded his conversation with the Shultakk and Gharn assistants and strode forward to the podium once again.


"I personally applaud the guarantees of independence that the Polish Hegemony and Kingdom of Isdenestilom have extended towards the Heralds of Xylyx. Upon careful review, the Glorious Republic also extends a guarantee of independence to the Heralds of Xylyx, until which time a satisfactory investigation is performed that proves Herald involvement in the alleged attacks upon the UISC and Nephilim."

[Shinn Langley Soryu]

Sol
Terra
Sant Tomas

Once they exited the space elevator, Elizabeth and her party were led to the conference hall where the Coalition meeting was taking place. "Thank you leading us to the meeting place, but I think we can find our own way from here," Elizabeth said to the courier, who simply bowed and walked off; she then focused her attention towards the package in her hand. "We need to find a place where we can view this thing in private."

The conference hall was divided into a main hall (where the actual Coalition negotiations were taking place) and several smaller meeting places; Elizabeth immediately made her way to one of these smaller rooms, with Flag Admiral Hernandez, Marshal Nguyen, and the honor guard right behind her. Once inside the room of Elizabeth's designation, the honor guard took their places as President Mitsuishi, Marshal Nguyen, and Flag Admiral Hernandez viewed the message from the Polish president.

"So that explains what exactly was happening in Nephilim space prior to our departure," Marshal Nguyen remarked upon the message's completion.

"Fleet Admiral Hwang and the other Joint Chiefs can handle themselves," Flag Admiral Hernandez said. "If the NGTO brings their fight to us, we'll make them pay in blood for every inch of our space."

"It would be nice if we could get the Coalition on our side should we be forced to resort to military action, though," President Mitsuishi remarked. "We obviously can't tackle the entire NGTO alone if it comes down to all-out warfare."

"Then it should be obvious what your course of action will be," Marshal Nguyen said. "It it does come down to a vote in the Coalition, we will be in favor."

"With that settled," President Mitsuishi said, "we should get going. We are running late for an important date, after all."

With that, the diplomatic party from the Congress of Colonial Settlements made their way towards the main meeting hall proper.

[Adrian Laguna]

The world of Wysoka is a colony of the Polish Republic out beyond Solidarnosc. It's a small and quiet out of the way place, with a population of only around a million. There's a small army base and a refueling cluster at the local gas giant. A decidedly unremarkable place that would earn a spot in history thanks to the actions of a desperate ship, and those of a ruthless pursuer.

30 AU from Wysoka, 5 from refueling station

An area of the void, in no way distinct from the void surrounding it, suddenly became so. At first an odd disruption, the field of stars in the background became twisted and distorted. Then, in an instant, it seemed that time and space itself had become liquid and turned into a maelstrom. The same happened again some distance away. Two whirlpools of liquid space, mockeries of physics as understood by pre-FTL civilizations.

From the first maelstrom emerged a ship. It was large, apparently meant to haul sizable cargoes, and it was armed, albeit lightly. A closer look would reveal it was also poorly armoured. It emerged with sets of black sails sticking out in three directions, one out of the "top" and the other two 120 degrees around the ship in either direction. The sails appeared to be filled with an unseen wind, and held-up by ethereal masts and rigging. As the swirling insanity faded away upon the ship exiting it, so did the sails. At the same time, powerful engines, obviously oversized for the ship, lit-up and started to accelerate it in the direction of the gas giant.

The second maelstrom produced a smaller but much heavier armed and armoured ship, clearly one designed for war. Its sails were a pure bright white, and its hull evoked the shape of a sailing frigate from the age of wooden ships and iron men. As its sails faded, it also engaged its engines and followed in pursuit of the other ship.

The fleeing ship was Moorish, its crew pirates. As they ran like the Devil Himself was after them, and if you asked the skipper of the pursuing ship it certainly was, they also sent pleas for help to anyone who would listen. The transmissions were clearly desperate and not entirely the product of balanced minds. You did not need a psychologist to know these people had been scared out of their sanity and were putting all their hopes on a last desperate gamble to save them from impending doom.

The pursuing ship was a Spanish frigate of the Reyes Catolicos design, a 5th class ship with a single deck of broadside cannon. It had been christened Don Juan de Austria in honor of the brilliant naval commander and brother of the King. It transmitted a short message through all modes of open communication and all bands, frequencies, and modules available. Well, except for the Morse lamp and the flares, that's just silly.

The message was terse and brimming with implied threat. It was sent twice in rapid sequence, first in Spanish, then in Arabic:
"Last warning, Moor."

[Cincinnatus]

Engineer Gloral Maeft floated through space next to the ruined freighter Minke, kept safe from the perils of the vacuum by his space suit. His team had finished their analysis of the blast points a while ago, but he ordered them to double-check the results before he reported them to his superior.

They had come back with the same results.

Maeft activated the radio in his suit's helmet.

"Engineer Jagrim Vonral, my team has completed its examination of the damage points."

"It took you long enough, Engineer Gloral Maeft. What did you find?" Vonral's gravely voice crackled with static.

"Sir, the reason it took so long is because I wanted to double check this," the junior engineer reported, "The damage was not caused by missiles, or any external damage at all. The explosions came from inside the vessel."

"What?"

"There were two shaped charges sir. One destroyed the crew quarters and everyone in it. The other blew the hole in the side of the ship, damaged the reactor, and destroyed the ship's black box. It was very subtle sir. We had to take a very close look to discover that it wasn't an external attack."

There was a long pause.

"Interesting. Keep looking and see if you can discover anything else about these charges. With all the witnesses dead, and the black box destroyed, it will be very difficult to discover who did this. I'll inform the Kaloum of your discovery, and the Oberin, Wanderers, and Nova mercenaries as well. Good work, Engineer Gloral Maeft."

[Spyder]

"Sir," came the call from the still-docked Oberin shuttle. "Dwarven shuttle is en route to our position now. They should be ready to dock in about a minute."

"If you'll excuse me a moment," Trellen nodded to the Wanderer, then headed back towards the cockpit to speak to the pilot. "Open a com to the Dwarves. Welcome them, and invite them to help us with our ongoing investigation. The dwarves' skill in engineering is well-known. Ask for their help in examining the missile blast points and any other damage to the freighter. I want a full story of how this attack went down, beginning to end."

"Is it truely wise to grant access to every party that calls in to this vessel? This is still a crime scene is it not?" The environment suited Svetlana asked the Oberin.

"There is one other issue I would like to raise. We would like to send a detachment along with the cargo to ensure a smooth transition and aid in distributing the goods to their intended recipients. We have been to the Huxley system before, they are a very insular community but they trust us. This would also perhaps be a good opportunity to get to know each other and dispell any misconceptions."

[Imperial Overlord]

Sol
Mars
North Polar Station

The space above Mars was full of satellites, both military and civilian. One of the oldest was the North Polar Station, a small space station that had served several different purposes in its long history. Now it served as a broadcast tower for the Centrality's government.

"The Logos Centrality has considered the looming crisis between the powers of the NGTO and the Heralds of Xylyx and concurs with the decision of the Polish Republic. Despite misgivings regarding the behavior of the Heralds, we are greatly disturbed what appears to be a rush towards by members of the NGTO. It is our belief that in the interest of galactic peace that be best course the Centrality can take at this time is to join with other powers in guaranteeing the independence of the Heralds of Xylyx unless strong evidence is presented regarding their culpability in this matter."

[rhoenix]

Somewhere south of Golden Sky Combine space

"This is where you'll want to put down. We land elsewhere. There's a navigational beacon that should be pinging you with landing instructions," the Troodon pilot stated in clipped tones. "See you around."

It submerged partially back into hyperspace, cloaked, and drifted off to parts unknown.

"Quite competent, but nary a pause, even for a 'thank you,'" Archon Inzeti thought. She and her two aides boarded the small atmospheric shuttle, having already been loaded with the gifts for the beings of the Cretacean Confederacy.

A short, coded burst from the station provided navigational data, once the shuttle translated it properly. Following the instrutions precisely, the shuttle decended into the fissure of the rock, touching down with barely a bump. Feeling unsure of what to do now, Archon Inzeti sent a short communique to the base.

Code: Select all

We have arrived, and are awaiting a docking clamp.  Otherwise, we can disembark suited.

[Bugsby]

"I agree, the docking station on this freighter is getting a bit crowded. But you and the Wanderers arrived before us, and we requested the Dwarves' aid us with inspection of the vessel. Surely you know of their skill with engineering work," Trellen told Svetlana.

"If you wish to escort the cargo, you are welcome. I am sure the Oberin's reputation precedes us, but if you do not trust us... well, it is a cruel galaxy, I grant. Because of the necessity of maintaining military secrets and so forth, your escort will be confined to the cargo areas and placed under guard. I hope you don't take this as a slight. The Wanderers have chosen to accompany us to Ober under very similar terms."

One of the marines came hurrying up to Trellen, carrying a datacard. "Sir," he saluted, handing it over. Trellen perused the datacard quickly, then turned to the marine. "The dwarves are certain of this?"

"So they tell me."

"This is... certainly odd. It looks like there is more to this wreckage than meets the eye. Charges from the INSIDE? I suppose the charges could have been placed in port and then detonated by remote. But remotes don't work at that long range... the attackers would have to have a ship present insystem to blow the charges, and if they did, why not just use missiles? Possible, but still, this looks like an inside job. Search the ship again. I want a crew manifest within the hour. Check for missing escape pods. And go to the crew quarters, or what's left of them. Find any remains that might exist. Scrape blood off the walls for DNA. If the attackers were crewmembers on this ship, well... I want to know who was here, and who died here."

Trellen walked back to his shuttle, deep in thought. It might have been stowaways rather than crew members. But stowaways in the living quarters? That seemed unlikely. Although anything was possible. It was damned unfortunate that the flight recorder was gone and there were no survivors. Although on second thought, that probably wasn't misfortune at all. Those charges were tactically placed to eliminate all record of the incident. And who had sent the distress call? And when?

And then there was the big question. Who was to gain from this? It certainly wasn't suicidal crewmen... suicidal crewmen did not use expertly shaped charges to simulate missile impacts. Perhaps this was a pirate attack. Agents onboard the ship's crew could have planted the charges, sent out the distress call, escaped, and had their confederates come later as "resucers" to liberate the cargo. The theory was a bit far-fetched, but... well, what else made sense? Any way Trellen looked at it, the same conclusion surfaced. He could no longer assume innocence on the part of any of these other rescuers.

"Contact the Armada," Trellen told his pilot at the comm. "Tell them not to start relaxing yet. Something odd is going on here. And have them send a couple more men. An engineer, too. I want our own people to take a look at these blast points."

[Thirdfain]

Refueling Station no. 29
Low Orbit
Roman-G
Wysoka

RS29 was one of dozens of gas giant-pump style refueling stations scattered across the Polish Republic's territory. It's refineries sucked great quantities of hydrogen from the atmosphere of Roman-G, the larges gas giant in the middle reaches of the Roman system. Three orbital shells closer to the sun spun Wysoka, a hot world dotted with frontier towns, small-scale mines, and the slowly blooming green of gengineered crops. RS29 was ugly, a massive and mostly automated conglomeration of asteroids with a long cable of spun carbon hanging down to the scoop-base in the swirling gasses of the planet itself.

The two warships of the 17th Escort Regiment, however, were far less ungainly. Both were of the austere design common of Polish warships- gourd-shaped, with a fat drive/reactor unit behind a tapering weapons and crew module. Their chameleon hulls were set to service grey, though each bore the White Eagle proudly. Their appearances, however, belied their speed and lethality. The ORP Tarantul was a destroyer of the Wilk-class, her hull built around a quartet of long-range torpedo tubes. The ORP Pilica was a frigate of the Zbik class, a tiny and cramped warship optimized for escort duties. They had been ordered back to Solidarnosc from their long patrol out on the Rim due to the recent increase in tensions, and were stopping at Wysoka to refuel in case of trouble.

Onboard the Tarantul, Fleet Colonel Heweliusz reviewed the recent dispatch. His own sensors, with their connections to the system early warning network, had already registered the two frenzied contacts. There had been transmissions- frenzied calls for help in Arabic, and then:

<<Last warning, Moor.>>

The message had hardly made sense- but the course of events was clear. One vessel was chasing another, and was bent on it's destruction.

Heweliusz checked the dispatch. The government on Wysoka had assessed the situation- it was clearly a first contact situation, as the ships had made no effort so far to contact system control, despite the well-known protocols in the Explored Sphere.

The only explanation was aliens, but why were they speaking Spanish of all things? A lost colony, perhaps? Unlikely to the extreme, but possible.

"Order the Regiment to spin up to maneuver and action velocity. Have system traffic control broadcast the standard first contact package, and warn the vessels to explain themselves."

[InnocentBystander]

Earth Orbit
Fort Muscat

Orders had just arrived from Lisbon; a heightened state of alert was to be issued to all ships of the Principal Armada. Ships of the Imperial fleet gather at the Arago and Leon System while ships of the Reserve fleet gather at Port Henry.

Earth
Lisbon
***Public Broadcast***

Portugal has long stood for peace and prosperity, and today we are proud to join the Coalition of Nations in calling for peaceful moderation. Portugal firmly believes that through negotiation and moderation a peaceful resolution can be found. Only an uncivilized nation would engage in a war which could destablize the entire region. Portugal calls upon the nations of the Northern Galactic Treaty Organisation to see reason and act as civilized nations should. Portugal guarantees the independence of the Heralds of Xylyx.

[Redleader34]

Earth High Orbit
DEW Commande Centre

Several men were staring at a strange object, which had just appeared on an odd decaying orbit near the sun. The object, was small, almost too small for the DEW network to scan, but it was noticed. Normaly garbage freighters dump their wastes into stars, but this had no previous vectors, or possible origin sources. It had seemed to appearer from the middle of nowhere, and as such, it set off an internal Red Alert throughout the fleet. The Inu Class transports that were the backbone of the Earth emengercy fleet, were quickly rushed to intercept, the three transports heading towards the object at around Warp Factor 5. The Journey was quick and uneventful, but the Sun's massive energy levels forced the ships to go manually to retrieve the object

"Sir" Shouted one captin, the same bunnygirl from earlier "That there, space thingie, its from some sort of aliems, and I think they were trying to hurt us..."

The Second Captain, a young Human male of African decent who had been promoted recently responded "Great job Leena, now tractor it, while I try to latch on to this object." He would open up another com channel to the third ship "Now Commander Nixon..."

"Huh" was the answer from the third ship, as an older man, with a fairly large "beer bely" would wake up from his apparent nap. "What is it, Andrews..."

"Record this, and keep a backup position. We are dragging this thing to the Collation for immediate presentation. Whatever this is... its not from earth, because its computer systems are no Linux or Apple..." The commander seemed to have a feeling of pride flow through him "And Remember to stream this to DEW HQ!"

"Alright, Alright!" the old man would say, as he had his transport record the procedures. Leena would use the Freigher's Tractor beam to drag the object closer, while Andrew docked onto the ship, the Inu's docking clamps fimly grasping the object. The symbols would be unknown to any of them, while the team towed it towards the Polish Space Elevator. Andrews would quickly file several reports, hoping to alert DEW HQ and the Coalition of what this find could mean.

[Crossroads Inc.]

============
Fortress World Galacticus
Primarily Military shipyards and
Staging area for UISC Force to NGTO Armada
========================

Above the desolate world of Galacticus, the skies were clogged with warships... Forces from the Five Fleets of the UISC now came together, the last few just leaping into real space to mingle with the others. Corvettes, Destroyers, Cruisers, and one mighty Battleship. Homeship of the Galacticus Defence force and assigned to be Flagship of the proposed UISC forces.

All of these however were dwarfed as they floated by the drydock of the nearly completed Studibaker The immense Super Battleship defied rational sense to its size. More than double the length of the largest Battleship. It seemed to have been under construction forever, its plans altered and re-altered, its cost staggering. Yet always, as if driven by some unseen force, always it's construction continued. When it finally would launch, it would be a true terror... More so, then even those building it could realize.

A lone Cruiser, coasting high above the gantree looked down. The ship, the Cinnamonin from the Andar home Defence fleet was captained by one "Rtock Epson" who looked upon the ship with disgust.

"Waste of resources, no direct use, its purpose could be easily split amongst Battleships. It's cost, if the estimates are right it has already cost us more than THREE times a normal Battleship." he muttered under his breath as around him, the other ships from the Andar Home Defence fleet drew into formation with the rest of the UISC numbers. A passing Conearing brought his mind back to matters at hand.

"Captain We have made the proper preparations. Captain Zimn of The Massive is ready to lead combined forces into the NGTO Staging area." Captain Espon turned, remembering something.

"Tell Zimn he shall have to postpone departure.. Several commanding officers and Captains our Planetside at a secluded meeting." The stout, rotund Conearing paused a moment.

"A meeting sir? What for" The orange Octona looked down at the massive Hulk of the Studibaker and Galacticus beyond...

"I have No idea Private..."

=================================
Upper Military War room, Fortress World of Galacticus
=================================

The room had been sealed, screened, and been made safe. Others would know they where here, but no one would know why, or what was said.

Currently, there was only one figure in the room.. He stood against a large window, it was a commanding view that, in nearly one great view, beheld the massive Studibaker. The figure stood against the glace, paws reaching against the window, as if reaching out toward the ship. Were anyone to see him, they would think him a mutant... His body, seemed a strange mix of Qwintoni and Tejlini physical appearances... The face, the face however was strangely Quatonian, as if mashed onto the body by some crude means.

Despite the appearance, the Mind within the body was perfectly at ease, indeed, it raced faster than any other sapitant on the whole planet.

"So close, so very close... How good it will feel to have a new home... A body that can move, that can defend itself.." He spoke aloud, knowing none would hear him.

A moment later, the door opend.

"We have come... But we don't know why, old friend." A voice spoke as the figure turned around.

"Captain Moz, how good of you to come, and on such short notice, I thank you. Captain Kuja, and Ambassador Torthro, I see you have come as well. I thank you."

"Indeed so" the Quatonian sat, about to light his pipe before thinking better of it. "So tell us, why are we here, we hold up the Invasion with our absence you know... Your invasion" Moz spoke, a smile on his face...

The figure grimaced behind his cloak, slowly moving to take a seat.

"Yes, My invasion... Gentlemen, it has come to my attention that things are not, as originally calculated, indeed, postponing your departure to the rest of the NGTO forces is exactly what I have in mind..."

Kuja shot up.

"My Lord, you cannot be serious! We have planned for this, fought for this, dreamed of this! We cannot possible fail! Why, at the hour of our achievement do you hesitate?" He spoke, the Qwintoni speaking fiercely as he pounded his fist.

The figure simply looked at him, showing a bit of his strange face.

"Kuja, I expect better of your military mind. you let your rashness get the better of you... Indeed, it would be all too easy to eliminate the threat before us. However, in my calculations the cost of such a victory continues to climb, allarmingly so..."

"How do you mean? Surely the Harold’s are not producing more ships as we speak? it would take years!"

"Do you forget the Humans? Their worlds and many fleets? Oh how foolish I was to write off their emotions..." He paused. "Your emotions do well to aid me, but it is all I know, all I am capable of understanding. The humans, they have more facets than a Trathalan Fahn Crystal... And it seems, I have misjudged them..."

The room went quiet, Torthro speaking at last...

"Sir, I know of what you speak, your contacts have been relaying me the endless messages in the Earth Coalition... It would seem, as you feared, the Harold’s have stirred up enough controversy to warrant notice by the other nations." He spoke, his voice soft and well measured.

The figure turned, putting his multicoloured yes upon Moz.

"And what of you, old friend, what do you have to say of all this?" Moz leaned back and snorted, wishing he could lite his Pipe...

"Me? I itch for battle, oh how I itch, the drums call to me, as they have when we first met... But, I know temperance of such things. We cannot go forth into this blindly, lest we awaken a mighty beast..." Moz finished, the figure smiled.

"Indeed so, as always, you comfort me, Old friend. Then it is settled, as of now we make no move, the UISC forces shall stay in orbit, performing 'extended exercises' till we know for certain how to proceed." Kuja once more stood up quickly.

"Sir, this is impossible, the UISC high council has ordered us to go by tomorrow. Even with your connections, we cannot force them to go back on their word!" The figure smirked.

"Do you think diplomatic options are the extent of my control?" he said.. His eyes beginning to shift, to glare, they shimmered and rolled, as if suddenly deep in thought... A moment later the lights of The Massive suddenly went out, then went back on.

"WHAT! What did you do?" Kuja shouted... Eve Moz taking a glance now, concern on his face.

"A minor feedback loop, most regrettable... I'd estimate half a dozen Drive converters we're fused, might be weeks before your flagship can move safely again... Of course, no harm to its crew of course."

The others looked at each other; their faces a bit pale...

"Do not worry, my word is still truthful, never shall I harm you, never shall I harm my people... It is my one, overdriving goal." he said, his eyes on Moz.

"I think we are done for now..."


=====================
PRIORITY ONE MESSAGE TO NGTO FORCES.
UISC BATTLESHIP THE MASSIVE DAMAGED
IN ACCIDENT, CANNOT JOIN MAIN GROUP TILL REPAIRS ARE MADE.
=====================

[Covenant]

Covert Listening Post P3X-219
Landing Cavern

We have arrived, and are awaiting a docking clamp. Otherwise, we can disembark suited.

The roof overhead locked shut soundlessly, though from the size of the equipment it must have been a deafening noise if there had been atmosphere to transmit it. Ports along the walls began to hiss, and oxygen spilled into the room, along with levels of sulfur and CO2 that would feel alarmingly high for a modern Earth dweller. Communication, now direct, lit up as the room began to repressurize.

"Leaving your suits on may be advisable, say nothing of wise, and therefore prudent, as the gaseous atmospheres with which we breathe are possibly dangerous, and undiplomatic, to your health." The voice is Tzi's, who sounds quite remarkably like a man speaking through a trombone.

The airlock bursts open, and with a flourish, the Exceptionally Esteemed Emissary of the 4th Echelon of the 9th Rank of Important Persons, and that is to say the Ambassadorial Ambassador himself, stepped out, weighted down in gold finery and the most impressive looking merits of rank. Tzi was, as far as Parasaurolophus breeds went, lean of built. However, with this much additional bulk added he looked more like a small ambassadorial battletank than his regular lean two ton self. At twelve meters in length and over three meters tall as he bent to peer out of the airlock, the Ambassador's welcome was certainly impressive to look at.

"Hellouuu!"

He clasped his hands, which were powerfully built, and stepped out towards the vessel, acting much affected by the encounter. Over the end of his snout he wore a rebreathing device of some kind, giving the foghorn voice a tinny sound, it also seemed to function as a communicator. Crisply, his voice came across the channels.

"Ahoy and Avast! Once again we speak, which is to say upon recognizing each other's existance in close proximity acknowledge our pre-existant relationship and establish a contact where information is exchanged and various locutionary acts are engaged in. Welcome!"

The dinosaur bent and turned an arm, gesturing for the delegation to come inside.

"Surely, and most assuredly, we should begin our discussions. Come inside, where there is not only air but also chairs, and might I add, tables. Have you decided if the atmosphere of our base is most certainly deadly to you, or is this definite uncertaintude the reason and explination as to which you've brought two other backup Ambassadors?"

[rhoenix]

Cretecean Confederation
Covert Listening Post P3X-219
Landing Cavern

"Surely, and most assuredly, we should begin our discussions. Come inside, where there is not only air but also chairs, and might I add, tables. Have you decided if the atmosphere of our base is most certainly deadly to you, or is this definite uncertaintude the reason and explination as to which you've brought two other backup Ambassadors?"

It did take another few moments, but soon enough, the exterior hatch of the shuttle seemed to melt upward, revealing three suited figures. All three moved smoothly out of the shuttle and into the landing bay proper, the two in the rear carrying a large container between them.

The suits were a dark grey color, with golden visors at first, but became transparent to reveal their faces. The suits themselves made each figure nearly three meters tall, but didn't look bulky of uncomfortable. None of them carried any visible weapons.

The one in the lead covered her left fist with her right hand, bowed, and began to speak after standing straight again. "Ambassadorial Ambassador, Exceptionally Esteemed Emissary of the 4th Echelon of the 9th Rank of Important Persons, I am Archon Aya Inzeti, Ambassador of the Golden Sky Combine. Please, show us to your meeting chambers, so that we may discuss matters of importance comfortably, over tea."

There was a pause, as she smiled. "We also brought your gifts."

[Adrian Laguna]

Accelerating at full burn toward Roman-G

Don Juan de Austria did not reply or otherwise appear to react to the Polish message. It really had no need to. The Moors made a mistake, been forced to actually, by the Spanish warship's dogged pursuit. They were too far away for anyone carried by STL engines to intervene, and the situation would be decided by the time any FTL drive warmed-up. The Moorish ship was out-accelerating its pursuer, but there was still plenty of time until it was far enough away that its successful destruction became uncertain.

For its part, the Spanish frigate's prey did react to the demand that explanations be given. A series of voices started yammering semi-incoherently about religious oppression, political persecution, ethnic cleansing, and sundry other crimes they claimed to be the victims off. The crimes weren't mentioned by name, but rather could be concluded as having happened from the short tales of death and suffering being screamed into the aether.

A sympathetic listener might conclude that the pursuers were horrible, monstrous, fiends, and the pursued hapless victims. A more cynical listener might snort and reply that it sounded like they were making shit up to save themselves. Detailed analysis might support the later, as the whole of the dismal stories was subtly self-contradictory, but there was no time for that.


Alfonso de la Vega, Captain of the Don Juan, stood on the bridge of his ship with a grin plastered on his face. He had them, after more than three weeks chasing the bastards, he finally had them. There was no way they could escape now, and he was content to wait and see if they would surrender. It was highly unlikely the enemy captain would do so willingly, but the crew might always mutiny. Unfortunately, thanks to the wildcard of the system's owners, he could not afford to wait much longer.

'I guess I have enough time to be unnecessarily theatrical if I cut it a bit short,' the Captain thought to himself.

"Enough waiting, get ready to start from the second chorus on my lead. Helm, Weapons, you have your orders." Seeing the nods of acknowledgment from the bridge officers and crew, de la Vega stomped his foot on the ground.

The frigate was transmitting again, same way as previously. However, if the Poles were confused before, they would certainly be more confused now. The pirates though, they recognized what it was. It was their death knell, the sound they would take with them Paradise or the Abyss, as the case may be. A pirate song, sung by the pirate hunters in pure mockery of their prey.

The frigate was transmitting the sound of boots stomping together on the floor at a steady pace, sounding-out a slow beat. As the beat continued, a eerie chorus of voices began to sing, slowly and deliberately:

Yo, ho, all hands,
hoist the Colours high.
Heave ho, thieves and beggars,
never shall we die.

More voices joined the chorus, and their boots the sounding beat. The singing became more energetic.

Yo, ho, haul together,
hoist the Colours high.
Heave ho, thieves and beggars,
never shall we die.

The chorus became a veritable crowd, stomping and singing as one.

Yo, ho, haul together,

In the bridge of the frigate its skipper raised his hand. The warship turned 45 degrees, hard toward port. Its starboard guns swiveled in their mounts to target the escaping quarry.

hoist the Colours high.

The weapons officer signaled they had a targeting solution. Her captain nodded in acknowledgment.

Heave ho, thieves and beggars,
never shall we dieee-

The raised hand came down like a guillotine, comms were cut, and the singing stopped abruptly. Before its echoes died down, the song had been replaced by a single word repeated throughout the warship: "FIRE!"

White smoke billowed out of each cannon, forming a rapidly expanding cloud beside the gun deck and marking the firing of a broadside. An instant later the Moorish ship disappeared under a series of brilliant flashes, as several nuclear warheads initiated against and inside its hull. The artificial sunbursts where fading a few moments later when they were suddenly bolstered by another salvo. When the nuclear reactions finally stopped they left behind naught but a faint scattering of debris glittering in the starlight.

Don Juan de Austria opened communications again as it accelerated away from the planet, "That is what happens when worthless pirate scum refuses to surrender despite repeated warnings." A pause, "On behalf of Su Majestad Imperial Don Felipe II, I apologize for intruding into the territory of... the Republic of Poland it says here, unannounced and uninvited. However, my first priority was the capture, or failing that destruction, of the pirate vessel I just sent to Hell."

The captain decided to leave it at that and await to see how this Republic of Poland would respond.

[Dahak]

From: Hegemony of Heavens, Foreign Affairs Ministry
To: All Nations
Subject: NGTO and Heralds of Xylyx issue

The Hegemony of Heavens clearly condemns any military action taken by the NGTO against the Heralds of Xylyx. The evidence seen so far indicates no Herald involvement and is no acceptable pretense for an aggressive war. We join the voices of reason and ask the NGTO forces to retract their forces.

[SirNitram]

The Great Ring
Wanderer Homeworld.

The massive structure spun gently in the void, a pinnacle of engineering. The psycrystal lattice that made up it's basis had a tensile strength allowing it to easily handle the strain of the spin without effort. More importantly, the massive amounts of psycrystal allowed the Wanderers to more easily focus and control their powers.

Here, the Gestalt ruled. No mind moved unnoticed. No psion unprepared for it's sheer mammoth size could long withstand the siren call of it's perfect unity. Memories dated back to the time of Enslavement in the unified mind, as if they had always been one people.

Prescient simulation complete. Wanderer fatalities at eighty nine percent. House Mnesoic fatalities at one hundred percent. House Aetherus Fatalities at seventy two percent. House Aucepitis fatalities fifty seven percent. House Artifectus fatalities ninety three percent. House Mercantor fatalities sixty three percent. The central mind of the Wanderers rumbled. All survivors returned to slavery.

From their crystal palaces, the rulers of the five Houses conferred in the Gestalt. None were Wanderers themselves; they were the genetically created slave races of the time before the Terran Upheavel, bred for singular purposes. None were terribly surprised by the results.

Acepitius offered her thoughts first. Humanity hasn't changed, even if they now speak to the void claiming they have. It seems the alliance is the only hope.

We will need to use care, to ensure we do not exchange one owner for another. This thought came from the stodgy Artifectus. But you're right. The nearby races are at least not humanity. The Oberin are a sterling race in all opinion, for example. But the others.. Are you certain?

Likelihood of successful repulsion of united Terran Empire increased fifty-seven percent by employment of recommended parties. It was crisp, cold, hard numbers. The Gestalt had originated as being half computer, half psion. The computer wasn't physically there, but the psion had inherited part of their capabilities.

It pains us to go to war. House Mnesoic's ruler added to the conversation. So best we present a more solid defense in the form of strong allies. The recommendations have my backing, save that we cannot publically announce them.

Slowly, unity was acheived. The Gestalt dispatched Ghosts to deliver the ambassadors.

[consequences]

Deep Space
Pirate's Bane

The pursuit had started with three of the Beasts' escorts, any of which was easily a match for the Bane and an interdictor and jamming platform following behind. A skirmish in the middle of an asteroid cluster had left on of the pursuing escorts with drive damage, and the jamming platform well behind, but had cost the ship her long range communications.

By ducking into a massive plasma storm, they had managed to get the drop on their pursuers, forcing a second to abandon the chase. This had only cost them 23% of their ordnance, and a dozen casualties. But now the last pursuer was steadily gaining on them, overboosting their drive in order to achieve a short term speed increase. Pirate's Bane couldn't afford to do the same, if it ever wanted to succeed in its mission. It also couldn't afford to attempt a straight fight with its pursuer, as it lacked the firepower to prevent the Beast vessel from making a suicide run to eliminate them. All that remained was choosing the place to make their stand.

Captain Daknir had been studyng the astrography data silently since the last time he'd risen from being sedated, quite against his will. Reaching his decision, he highlighted a set of coordinates. "Here."

Commander Tirn studied the coordinates and the attached data "A hypermass?"

"It's the only thing close enough that changes the paradigm. If we can keep our drives intact, and damage theirs even a little, we can break contact."

Commander Tirn stared at him for a few seconds, before activating the all-hands circuit "All Hands, this is your captain. We will be engaging the enemy in close action within the hour, in the close vicinity of a hypermass. prepare all stations for combat, and make me proud people."

The comm display lit up with the face of Lieutenant Lorres, commander of the ship's marine contingent. "Sir, request permission to prepare the launches for boarding action"

"Granted" he cut in the all hands circuit again "All personnel without combat critical duties may report to Lieutenant Lorres for weapons draw in preparation for offensive boarding." The eager snarl of the ship's company could be felt through the deckplates, and several ratings saluted before leaving the bridge. The helmsman's eyes followed them, burning with the desire to join before he turned back to his station.

A hand fell on his shoulder, and he looked up to see Captain Daknir "Go son, I'll take the helm." Without a backward glance, the young man moved to the lift.

Ten silent minutes later, the mass of the black hole pulled them out of ftl, and Daknir smothly altered the ship's course to enter a close orbit of it, as the Beast vessel emerged close behind, and started driving straight towards the Bane.

"Alter course to starboard, engage roll at maximum rate, fire everything on my order" The ship slewed to its right, presenting its broadside to the foe bearing down on them. A moment later the Beasts cleared the warping influence of the black hole. "Fire."

Lasers and particle beams splashed continuously against the shields of their foe. A constant stream of missiles came close behind, as every tube went to maximum rate. Following close behind came the ship's three cutters, and single pinnace, as space around them filled with scientific probes, jamming decoys, tactical sensor drones, and escape pods. Bringing up the rear were two score space suited figures, one riding a refresher unit torn hastily out of the galley and laughing maniacally. For their part, the Beasts engaged Pirate's Bane with their own energy weapons, while their point defense methodically engaged targets in order of importance and perceived threat. As a result, the missiles were easily dealt with, while the pinnace vanished in a burst of flame. An assortment of normally harmless material vaporisied against the shields, which buckled under the strain, then finally broke as the first cutter immolated itself against them. The remaining two latched onto the hull, and started burning through, as suited figures that didn't gauge their deceleration correctly smeared against the hull. Still others landed safely, as the surviving escape pods magnetically grappled themselves to the hull. A bare moment later, the refresher unit crashed through a weakened section of hull, its rider miraculously making a soft landing, cushioned by the pulped bodies of a half-dozen crew who had been in his path.

The Beasts commited themselves to a collision course, as they continued to close before impossibly stopping for a moment. Pirate's Bane slid under her opponent's course as her abused tractor beams exploded, still rolling and firing the entire way. Both ships reeled away from each other, set on separate inward spiralling orbits around the singularity.

""Report!" Tirn bellowed, mentally blessing the designers of his seat's restraints, even as he cursed them as they threatened to reduce his bones to gravel.

"All munitions expended, small craft gone, computer control nonfunctional, tractor beams inoperative-" another explosion reverberated throughout the hull "and energy weapons are now offline. Drive operative at 63%, and the galley reports we'll be eating our meals dry from now on, since some psychopath just had to make a joke"

"Helm, maximum burn, best guess to break us out of here." Moments later, the engines fired at full burn, and the ship's course veered away from its uncaring doom, before the engines failed, and the ship started to arc back in. "Damn. It has truly been an honor people. If you get any control back, try to hit those bastards head on" he added, seeing the Beast ship coming in again from its own arc around the black hole.

On board the boarded vessel, They had matters well in hand. Primary combat units had moved in on the two primary threat vectors, while the other assorted boarders were steadily eliminated. At that point three things happened, as nearly simultaneously as to make no difference, not that anyone would ever know. The Helmsman set off the radiation weapon he'd managed to cobble up from his escape pod's power supply. The deranged ships cook, blasting down another door, found a huge pulsating mass, that he simply couldn't resist flinging his last explosives into, and the ship made its closest approach to the black hole yet.

On board the Pirate's Bane, Commander Tirn watched as the two vessels' vectors merged, and came nearly close enough to touch, moments before they both reached their farthest point they were ever going to reach. Cursing silently, he felt a slight shudder and saw the other ship fall behind, as his impossibly surged forward.

"Sir, they're... pushing us out? And, we're being hailed."

The screen lit up with the view of a wild-eyed man in a completely utilitarian restraint device. In the background, others could be faintly seen gibbering, or comatose. "Burgundy. The center and the key are Burgundy. Save them, by fire if you must. Whatever you do, make sure this evil ends." He stabbed a button on his console, and the image cut off, as the ship blossomed into flame behind them.

"Resume course for Earth, best sustainable speed." With that, the commander finally let himself sag in relief.

Continued Alarm. The last unit in contact with the escaped food source vessel has lost contact with the Whole. Accelerate local consolidation plans, Maximum effort to destabilisation initiatives.