StarDestroyer.Net BBS

Reposting this here so I can eventually edit for posterity. Also for people to post critique and comments.

Sector H6

The cruiser Roubvogel drifted through space, it's ears to the aether. Nothing. Just like the last time through.

The captain twitched his ear, it was too quite in the chamber, just as quiet as the sensors were reporting and as quiet as an efficient warship could get. It was Insufferable, almost nothing to distract oneself with. Sensor operators, Plotting stations and gun layers relaxed in peace with but the barest of murmurs between the sensor stations.

The watch officer broke the silence," Captain, we will be leaving the system in twenty, there is nothing to see here. If you wish to check the notes for the next system I can take the con."

"I would like to. Is the next shift going into briefing soon?"

The watch officer had a more intimate understanding of the duty shifts than the Captain, who almost always was on call. "I believe the Archivist is going to be starting soon, sir. The shift transition will happen just after transition into the target system."

"Aye, watch officer you have the con."

Two decks up and five bulkheads over was the Archivists briefing hall, but thanks to the machinery of both the primary port kinetic generator and the secondary cooling systems it was three decks down in addition to the rest of the trip. A human would have had a far longer route, both because there were few decks that had the height for a human to walk across easily and because Eoghan didn't use convenient inventions such as stairs or ladders to move between decks. No they preferred to use their semi Arboreal bodies and run on all fours to get from place to place. Not really what humans expected, but all perfectly normal for the little mongoosiods.

If the Archivist was aware that the captain was coming down, he neither showed it nor any surprise at the captain as he leaped onto one of the cushioned benches in the upper rows of the circular room. But then it shouldn't be expected to surprise one of the gifted.

Indeed Archivist Kázmér had been taunted by the voices that he was going to have an unexpected visitor. An obvious and even to simple taunt. Since it only was the captain, Kázmér was okay with it. Generally the captain would use some of the time to take a nap, and the briefing would continue uninterrupted, though some of the crew would have thought it odd for the Captain to lack the curiosity to see all the briefings to the end. But the stresses of captain were enough to ignore it, besides fulfilling ones curiosity was very relaxing.

What the voices were neglecting to tell him was the next star system wasn't going to be peaceful enough for any naps.


Pirate ship The Underhanded

He could feel the tension on the bridge. First Officer Tebrek was finishing his walk around the cavernous chamber that had once been an ore Storage chamber. The Ship Master had inflicted his ego on the once simple space. Now the bridge chamber was full of trophies, with tapestries from pre-crusade Byzantine, and torture devices. Though the automatic instruments of music were a nice touch. The only compromise to Utility was the original cargo handling gear that now moved missiles to the launchers.

Right now the launchers were shifting a large number mines to the secondary launchers. Ever since the first losses in the sector the ships had spread out. Even now the more normal behavior of every pirate ship for itself was beginning to creep into the mentality of the captains.

Of course the Ship Master here almost needed no encouragement to be a pompous ally. He was old, actually had been brought out of retirement with a little bit of sweet talk by their secretive sponsors, and he wasn't that organic any more. The worst part of him coming out of retirement was that he brought his collection with him, his collection of victims. It was surreal walking about the bridge and hoping not to run into a new one, or to have found that the captain had the previous shift spend time rearranging them so that in the gloom between stations different horrors lurked.

Speak of the devil, one of the newest additions one of the lowest ranked crew of the ship. This Thanagarian had caught the captain in a bad mood, and happened to be a relative of the group that had been lost to the Commonwealth Destroyer. Nobody had missed him, at least not openly, and indeed a rumor had been started that he cheated at cards. Tebrek was certain that it was just a cheap ploy to distance themselves from the wrath of the Captain. Now the Thanagarian yeoman was another grisly statue on the bridge of the ship, his features speaking of the immeasurable pain that had been inflicted in the pure white shade of calcite marred by the crimson and gold sheets of silk that hung on him.

Not that it mattered. The first step past the statue was the hardest, here was one of the crew once valued by the all the rest only to be laid aside before his time. It got easier, each step reminding him that if it weren't for a certain level of competence in the crew they could go the same way as the relatives of that last victim did. It was also inevitable that not all people were cut out to be pirates, indeed Tebrek had his doubts about the ability of their sponsors to understand the realities of being in the struggle.

The last of the stations was a signals repeater, and the officer there tipped his cap at the First Officer. Tebrek caught on to the subtle call to come over, "Yes Chief?"

"Got something on the large array on the supply dock, coming in from RXC-113 at a decent speed. It is big enough, and it is going fast enough to be either a leisurely military ship or a merchant moving along at full thrust. Wanna tell the big man?"

"I don't think so, but do be ready for it. The rest of the ships wouldn't like it if we got a merchant all to ourselves, and we wouldn't like it all that much to find out it is a military ship. I'll get some of the other stations ready though. And tell the dock that we will handle it."

Tebrek had taken his place at the side of his captain. He knew that the ship would be arriving soon, and that a large portion of the ships crew would be ready, even if the captain wasn't. Hell he was enough of a machine to take this in stride. Of course of the other 5 raiding ships at the station most of them wouldn't be ready but it was their own fault in every case. The only problem was that the magazines were almost empty, having played out in making the minefield.

Eh, just means that each shot had to count if it was a military vessel. And if it wasn't the empty bays would be perfect for loot.


War Cruiser Roubvogel

The next shift was waiting in the bridge antechamber. A couple of the cooking staff were bringing up relief food for the officers coming off duty. The captain was leaning up against a bulkhead, a trick he had picked up from a Commonwealth Captain to conceal a lack of rest. Apparently it didn't work that well against other humans, but Eoghans wouldn't see it that way, with their own preference to curl up with their tail when tired.

Archivist Kázmér twitched his whiskers, while the body language of the captain was unfamiliar the profound lack of excitement about viewing a new system gave him away. Exhaustion, most likely thanks to the extreme pace of the recon run. Two War-Cruisers were only able to cover so much ground by over working their crew, and indeed they were drawing heavily on their Black Boxes capacity to keep up speed. Coolant would be an issue at the halfway point, when they would switch out for one of the two cruiser pairs that were in Reserve.

Some of the auxiliary crew were laying out refreshment for the officers coming off duty, not too much but enough to encourage them, mostly bitter roots and Slime beetle preserves. As Káz looked at the little beetle heads preserved in Naval grade preservative that would last them centuries, the Voices grew louder and taunting laughter was brought against the gifted. Why would those.. bugs that lived in the cracks of reality be so confident to pester him now? Or were they just trolling him for responses?

The bell tolled as the ships hyperdrive disengaged close to the little dwarf star and signified the beginning of shift rotation. The captain perked up, his Pavlovian response overcoming his exhaustion. Sure he didn't need to be here since he was on call regardless but it was a symptom of his time under colors. In this case it saved him precious time when the alert came through.

One of the Auxiliary crew hit the quick release on the door just in time to see the first of three detonations being simulated with holo-viewpanes. The repeaters were going in the background, '...All point defense is green and free, Launch bays are to go to blast sealed, Counter measures moving to full readiness...'

"Captain, Drive trails detected, blasts were caused after one of the fore decoy launchers auto salvo-ed. Mine detonation is in the standard range for a medium improvised weapon. No damage reported."

"Sensors focus for a close sweep for more mines, then refocus on those drive trails. Point defense kill all close targets under priority. Kinetics, give me maximum density minimum volume at 700m with #1 and max deflection out to 20km with #2 for shielding." All the while the Master Sergent was phasing in the new bridge officers, first the assistants then when available the actual station officers.

"Close danger sweep is done, relaying targets into heavy point defense." "Point defense confirms guns clear for firing. Firing now." The four twined railguns that sat on the top and bottom deck started reaching out for hard kills against the handful of Mines that had been confirmed in their target cones, cones designated on the assumption that the primary role in combat would be to clear out heavy strike craft. The mines were easy enough prey.

"Archivist get to the observation post to help second scan. I want E-war quiet in 2 and a half." Archivist Kázmér was already moving as the captain continued his verbal circuit of the bridge. The primary Observation post was forward two sections and up almost six decks, built three decks over the secondary controls at the very most obvious spot for a bridge. A minute to get there at worst. Well it was worse to look on the tactical repeaters from up here and see more than 5 targets, one of which was larger even then their cruiser.

"Whats the targets looking like?"
'Sir maybe 4 or 5 of those types sighted in H12, lots of potential mines, 3 planets that look to have orbitals, and that heavy Ore miner; correction a heavy Ore miner that is throwing out a bunch of missiles. Eta from range is a minute 10. Sensors blind at 50."

A brief burst of clarity as one of the voices that he had bound made somethings clear. "Modify that only 3 of the lighter ships are combat ready at the moment. The other two will be ready in a short while. That that and that." The two medium far away, and the furthest leaving the two unprepared as the closest and the second furthest.

The captain had gotten the message and leaped forward with some 'defensive' missiles, a waste against a prepared warship but would stall an unprepared one. A part of the slavo was directed against the missiles the Ore hauler had thrown. Not enough to kill all of them.

"E-war blind in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, null." The ship shuddered as grav thruster after grav thruster engaged to shift it out of the line of fire. "First wave passing us in 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, first wave is passing now." The observation post was the first people to know when one of the incoming warheads was premature thanks to the deflection setting of Kinetic projector #2. They were also the first to know when one of the warheads found the inner barrier. The fireball was impressive but it had been redirected away from the ship with the Kinetic force of the Barrier.

The Underhanded

The shipmaster was glowering, and the first mate knew why. Using his machine interface he was berating the raider who despite being closest to the ship wasn't ready for battle and had lost it when it had stopped transmitting. Of course that had distracted the raider's captain enough for those light missiles to get through. They hadn't cased all that much damage, but they had fried some of the sensor gear with their targeters before landing.

"Master predictors have the vessels most likely path as cutting close to the M21 or 23 mine cluster." "Magazines at 5%, 20 missiles will be loaded in 15."

"Master we have to make certain that this supply depot remains secure and we should be able to bully our way through the enemy."

"I agree engines to full course into M23. I need the chart for those mines loaded now. Prepare to send 1% of the mines to active detection." And that cyborg monstrosity smiled confidently.


War Cruiser Roubvogel
The first mine that had gone active had been really nasty, a bomb pumped Xray laser that had lite them up something special. Active scanning was brought back on-line and point defense was lively, especially from the observation deck. Autoblasters were firing on close fast moving warheads launched from a now dead mine while the heavier railguns were putting out any launchers spotted. There were enough mines in close that even the casement broadside Lightning guns were firing, rending all their targets to atomic vapor.

"Raider one E-war is at half of starting, presumably out of the fight; Heavy target one, heavy target one has moved awaiting re-establishment of contact. Active Raiders are beginning long range plasma fire, range is too great to be decisive.
Heavy target sighted, bearing 9, -1, -87 and closing. We have incoming!"

With point defenses so hopelessly saturated the captain had ordered Kinetic #2 to go to point bursts. Not all of the missiles could handle the focused density of particles that #2 could put out, but #2 didn't have that great of fine control in reaction fire. #1 shifted a quarter of it's power over to handling the overload, loosening the amount of shielding they were covered by but eliminating the threats faster. Finally though they were given the purpose that they had been built for, both projectors sending a bath of semi real particles at the enemy. The effect that created the particles traveled at C, but the beam started to lag behind. Two pin pricks of Kinetic force slammed into the Underhanded, a fierce hammer blow that had the shields cycle off to relieve stress just in time for a partial bath of hard radiation from the following particle stream.

A nasty blow, if it had been any other ship. The Underhanded had plenty of volume to soak up radiation though. It's response was a whole lot softer, but hit in a lot more tender location. Several auto-lasers had opened up at beyond their max range as a point defense weapon. hitting in while the barriers were being reformed after firing at full strength. Kaz finally knew why the voices had taunted him so as the entire observation post burned around him, cutting him off from all options except the escape pod, alone save the dead as even the voices quieted for his decision, only the half mad piping in the Aether remaining. He could stay and die in the fires of the post or he could eject into space and hope for the best.

What was worst about this decision was that the voices were taking it seriously. Obviously death was normally not preferable to anything but if the hideous voices thought it wasn't any worse, and they are the ones who brought tales from all parts of space of death, corruption, passions driving people to horrible ends, not to mention the secrets about the universe they lied about; that should really make you stop and think. He had a few precious moments before even his durability as one of the gifted gave out.

They Escape pod was away before the thoughts were clean and final. He looked back at the Roubvogel long enough to see the heaviest axial railguns open up in a final gambit before he passed out from the pain.

He could not see the shot that shattered the minor comet enough to intimidate the pirates for a moment nor the brief crossing of the broadsides as the cruiser accelerated through the new debris field for the safety of hyperspace.

And he most assuredly couldn't see the Underhanded when it plucked his pod from the void. Yet he knew, and he knew exactly why the voices had been silent, for they were silent no more.

June / July Sector H6 (I refuse to keep a time table for all the pirate actions, needless to say this is before the Prussians are ready to mobilize.)

Agent Chaos coughed in the dusty storeroom. Damned provincials, not keeping things clean in their enclosed habitat. Oh well at least he wouldn't have to be here long.

One of the prior contacts hadn't been very easy to get a hold of almost making the Captain of the little Tramp vessel he was undercover on think he had deserted. At least he had some more data out of it, the Infiltration and Observation man had been busy keeping track of when the pirates would check in for supplies, mostly rum and other intoxicants. The data looked like 2 different groups either patrolled or were based in the near space.

This time the Observer had been quick to acclaim a negative. Not improbable really there were enough dirt balls with insignificant colonies on them in the surrounding sectors that the pirates couldn't have been expected to be at all of them.

Hell he would have already left but for his captain insisting that they should take on spare parts here. That was a happy enough thought, the ship did need some more tender loving care, but picking up parts from a junk dealer in the middle of nowhere wasn't as happy a thought. That was until he saw the collection of equipment that he was calling junk.

Enough of it was modern universal plug equipment that he searched his memories whether the observer had looked into this being a pirate font. He almost regretted doubting the man though, for it was almost certainly not one.

He was now following a hunch, looking through some of the sensor pieces in the collection.

He grunted as he picked up one of the promising examples, if he was right it was surplus from the UN's fleet. The receiver was a little dented and it could use a new coat of paint, but it was still plugged in and from the look of the dust it had been lying there for a while. The log was just as he had hoped, though the sound of laughter came at that thought, as though to say of course it was. This evidence was going to be priority, he might even have to commandeer the ship. He smiled, his best imitation of Bragulan Laughter. Of course the captain might not be happy, but Chaos would just like to see him try to do anything about it.

Three days later.
Mareiopolis Nova Atlantis, Nova Atlantis Sector

The EUC diplomatic adviser drove down the boulevard in a bland grav car, his destination just ahead. As he pulled up to the NAC Naval command Center Marcelino's offhand went to the package he had been instructed to bring from the Embassy.

The First layer of security was the most stringent, detailed identity checks including a pass with a PKE meter. The inner layers included more nasty things if it was called for, but rarely was it needed. Just pass through a check for nanite spies and he was on his way. It would have been much harder if he wasn't expected.

He presented himself before the General Staff, finally opening the case he had brought, revealing a single use encryption machine. It was swiftly combined with the comm gear in the room.

The holo of both an Eoghan Rear Admiral and Secretary of the Transhuminist Office of the Navy appeared before them. Rear Admiral Ognjan was taking part in the conversation from his desk aboard his carrier/flagship Onen. The Rear Admiral started at off directing his pening remark at his human collaborators, "Gentlemen we are here to finalize the plan for operation Firestorm. Recon and Intelligence from all our nations points to the necessity of Major actions against the pirates in H6."

"Indeed, they have been bold enough to attempt the direct capture of Naval vessels." The Atlantean Admiral Josef Patton interjected. "Right now the Naval recon group has identified various rally points for the pirates. Intelligence believes that these locals are where they divide the loot from various raids, temporary classified as Bazaars. We've heard that you have additional intelligence to share though?"

"Yes though..."

Secretary Kapila raised a hand. "A moment please. We have been observing the Centrality and Umerian operation in detail, as I am sure you have too, and we are concerned about the timetable and other things we have gleaned in this exercise. Specifically the Pirates choosing hard static targets to fight over, the generally high equipment status of the pirates and the tepid pace of all of it. Does this change our plans?"

Patton waved it off, "My dear the Centrality Navy is playing a fool for the sake of finding and maintaining allies. They accepted help from so far away from the actual conflict zone and delayed action too much in allowing their allies to arrive. Frankly they would have been better off mobilizing a slightly greater part of their navy and coordinating with the Idurans to eliminate the pirates."

"Right, a lot like the problems that the Anglians have with the Multi-national fleet at Pendleton. Do you honestly think a Monolith would have or could have raced in if it was just the Anglicans bringing little more than was necessary in as short a time as possible?"

"That isn't so very reassuring since we still have to face off against the fixed defenses of the Pirates. If you'll review the notes that we sent you'll see that we are sending a task force centered around a Battle-cruiser." Kapila hefted a folder with the same clearance markings that the notes all shared. "What the notes do not say is that we are still worried that the enemy will have too much defenses, so I have moved a force into near reserve that would double our commitment."

"Possibly unnecessary but welcome. Eoghan intelligence assets have been active in identifying the opposition. We have less than a pawful of likely targets, one confirmed and a double pawful of unlikely targets. The confirmed Target has engaged recon assets which are still evading pursuit. We believe it to be a Depot for their ships, but won't be certain till either the Recon assets return or we send something else there."

"So that will be Target One?"

"No, they will be expecting a second expedition and our best simulation has the minefields delaying us too much allowing them a good look at our force. Firestorm is going to play to our advantages in intelligence by denying them time to prepare for a stand up battle on a battlefield of their choice. Also one of the likely targets we only barely and recently discovered is a Communications hub."

"The opening phase of Firestorm is for the Atlantean force to stike at the next "bazaar" in open space alongside elements of the Humanist Navy. At this point Eoghan Marine forces are going to attempt to overrun the Comms Hub."

"So phase one is all about disorganizing and scattering the pirates." Secretary Kapila obviously was trying her best to stay on top of the plan despite no experience in operations planning. Her staff were doing a good job to stay unobtrusive while keeping her up to speed, but in real time there was only so much they could do.

"Essentially, and the second phase is meant to confound the problem. All national task forces are to rundown or follow as many of the scattered pirates from phase one as possible. If they are all rundown that is fine we will then proceed to hit all the remaining likely targets, if not the task forces are to besiege the outposts they flee to at the minimum. If possible go for the neck and kill."

"Phase three is the finale, and we see this as lasting the longest. We will expend as much of our reserve as possible to break the sieges that remain, one by one. If and when no sieges remain the national task forces shall designate independent squadrons to seek and destroy the scattering survivors and investigate the unlikely sites, while the remaining ships of each task force rearm and fortify the captured targets."

"Is this not too bold of a plan?"

"Yes and no. The Eoghan federal navy would not have promoted such a reckless plot except that on review of the more cautious approach of the Centrality we realized that this is going to work better against the opposition. At least so long as we retain an advantage in the Intelligence war."

"Is the date for the operation set?"

"If we are agreed here and now? Then yes in five days, we hope to have the major aspects of the operation done in three to a week after start. After all much of our Intelligence is time sensitive."

The destroyer Alshish went through the last stage of Immediate action drills. It was going to be the first strike for the Eoghan's Fleet against the pirates. The destroyers had separated themselves from the Carrier they would normally guard, for their native prey, Centrality Battleships, were going to be few and far between. No battleships meant that they had to find more appetizing targets to get any trophies.

The first of the half dozen Kabutops class destroyers was now making the transition into free space light minutes out from the pirate star. It was the same place the cruiser had engaged, and rather than do like they had told their allies and ignore it they were going for a quick decapitation strike. Of course the fact that there had been no plan to put forth for this place should have given away their intentions anyway.

They had been right about the pirates bringing more ships to defend with. It would have been wise to ignore this place and the stand up battle it represented, yet they were here anyway. Active sensors on the destroyers lit the depot up for the Galaxy to see. They were out past the furthest planet of this little dwarf star despite the astronomically close distance, which was close enough to the limits of the minefield to be safe. The little raiders were squawking under the pulses of sensors, occasionally blanking out the area they occupied. In general though the destroyers had a good view of the aggregate of orbital supply stations fuel storage torus' and equipment dumps. Even a antimatter "refinery" looked to be in the inventory, at least if the sensors were to be believed. It was a bleak prospect to leave all this for the pirates to maintain their ships while the Eoghan and their allies tried to suppress them, but it made the crews of the destroyers hearts light is they keyed in the targeting computers.

They weren't going to leave it for later, they were going to leave it to burn.

If the facilities had been under more powerful jammers or had better shielding they would have stood more of a chance. The first Aether torpedo crashed in from Heim space too close for the raiders to intercept. It's massive anti-battleship warhead was unfocused but still overpowered the targets. Against a centrality Battleship it would have lit up the shields nicely, but little more. Three space stations though were left with radiation soft killing most of them and secondary damage throughout, while one further out had a catastrophic failure and simple exploded.

The twin launchers on each destroyer emptied quickly. 35 more explosions turned the Inner orbit of the star into a maze of debris and failing stations. Of course when you set the hive on fire you have to deal with the wasps.

Turning from the wispy red glow of the star the destroyer Alshish found temporary respite in hyperspace. It lead the way for the rest. Would the enraged defenders follow or would they try and rescue what they could from the dying stations? Only time would tell.


Aboard the Anorith class Marine Assault Vessel Escher

The official Eoghan opening move was delayed. It was a side effect of the limits they had in operational intelligence. They had run too close to a previously unknown patrol route for the pirates. It wouldn't have been good to be detected so close to the target. So they waited.

The nine ships were relying almost as much on the hot gas of the inner nebula as the cloaking shrouds that they had been using till this point. But for now it was easier to stay in real space and let the patrol wash over them. Of course it meant more time to fret about the coming assault for the troops, making the little compartment Valentine shared with them all the more coffin like. It didn't help that as the only human he had to endure Eoghan standard gravity and atmosphere (or rather wear a breathing rig). He was fumbling around with his hand gun, a solid Shinran design, but even the habitual motion of it's action wasn't reassuring. It was repressive enough that he was doubling his decision to accept the invitation to the offensive. Of course his other choice was to share a leaky creaky old ship with a punch of security troops as they brought it and the remains of it's crew back to Cinnabar. A crew that was both terrified of him and universally seething with hatred of him.

C'est la Vie.

Valentine's senses strained to note the change of the note as the ship shifted into hyperspace. It was a unique note, one of thousands that had been sung in the choir of the fleet since the age of hyperspace began. He leaned in towards the group Sargent, actually more leaning over than towards but it was an easy enough mistake for a human to do to an Eoghan.

"Sargent we are off again. Do you <remember/know> why the Assault Captain requested my <presence/observation>?" His Eoghan was perfectly good, for a human. If he were a Bragulan if would be easier to form syllables , but harder to get the tone and timbre of the grammar correct, a reasonably fair trade.

"Yea, I think/believe that it was because <your/other> mastery of language. If has been a problem to/for the troops to <talk/communicate/socialize> with other species. You <are/will be> helpful when going in and when looking through the intelligence." The soldiers were shifting their gear to punctuate the seriousness of the topic. Force projectors, shield vests, lightning rifles and the occasional Shard Carbine all were shuffled about with both professionalism and the concern that that level of knowledge represented.

"And how <do you want me to/ shall I> deploy with the men?"

It was a subtle thing, to be sized up by an Eoghan. A human would have been more direct and visual, an easy thing to miss-cue. It was harder to out do the sense of smell. Plus these were the Elite troops of the Army of the Navy, they had data-links and artificially adjusted reflexes/instincts, so it was easy for them to pick additional confidential information about him of the ship's networks. It was therefore an obvious answer, since he was what he was it had to be. "You will/shall go in with second team for <close support/forward strike>. Have as much fun as you want, though try to remember what the goal is."

Second team would do. They were pleasantly equipped with a mix of stuff and looked less like a support team than teams three and four. "Fair enough, I think I should have enough time to rest. Wake me latter." The dreams might not have been pleasant, but they would serve to get him in touch with his primordial self for the coming conflict.


The Target, 150 minutes later.

The attack was quick and too the point. The hollowed asteroid that the communication hub inhabited had been defended more with mobile elements and secrecy then by a massive minefield. Besides, a minefield would have had to have been extraordinarily large to have enough density to have detected the stealthed ships as they tried to bypass it. The asteroid itself was adequately defended with large anti cruiser and battleship guns.

The first volley came from the five heavy frigates that had accompanied the assault ships. Their single mass drivers fired very low velocity shots, that while not stealthy per say, carried no particular energy and had no particular artificial shape so were ignored by the point defenses and shields. After all why waste the energy when the asteroid shell would take the impact nicely? Of course they were not nice at all, three of them were mobile bombs that would drag themselves towards their targets before exploding while the other two were targeted jammers waiting to activate. They weren't going to be able to blind the station for long before their batteries were extinguished, but every moment would count.

The next volley was far less subtle, three of the Frigates dropped cloak and lit up the closest bit of independent defenses they could with their half dozen lighting cannons. A pair of asteroids exploded, one of them had contained a fighter "base" while the other was completely ordinary (not that they would have known that). The last target was one of the few raiders that defended the base. It had been gutted at the extreme of close range, where the cannons had better firepower than would have been reasonable if not for their very limited range.

They gave the command group for the defenders just enough time to see only three little cruisers, or at least what they would consider cruisers, before the jammer munitions activated. In the silence the launch of 240 small fighters didn't give away the location of the carriers, for all four assault ships were too close to the facility for safety. The other raiders were too busy trying to engage the Gastly-class Heavy frigates to notice the launches, seeing as they were trying to hold their opponents in place long enough for the large guns on the asteroid to pick them off. It should have worked wonderfully too, but the remaining frigates finally decloaked once the raiders had come onto one vector, hitting them as they were grouped together from the rear. The formation shattered at the same moment that the first of the three nukes went off. Control was silent now even with the jammers' having spent their remaining power.

The now revealed sensor picture was crowded with fighters coming into the inner point defense range riding the coat-tails of the anti-ship missiles that they had flung. Point defense was frantic as the many mounts went to independent control, ensuring that multiple guns might shoot at the same target, at least if the sky wasn't so full of targets.

Despite the worry that the defenders had at the fighter swarm the raiders took to heart the big guns opening up on the Heavy frigates, turning them aside and in retreat. The raiders were happy to oblige, mainly so they could keep targeting for the asteroid's guns.

The battle turned one last time; right as the missiles form the fighters were about to impact on the shields, and a little before the fighters followed suit, the remaining mobile munitions detonated over the shield generator. Normally and Individually the munitions wouldn't have done much to the shields, but with the added momentum from the missile impacts the detonations were able to crack the generator mounting and throw the shield through the asteroid. Spalling killed many in that instant, but more importantly it left the facility wide open for the fighters to strafe. The first victims were the cruiser guns, easy and weak in comparison to the bigger guns. Point defense tried to play for time, trading shots in blood. Finally though the Annorith class Assault ships deigned the battlefield with their presence, decloaking inrange of point defense. While they were not that great of combatants they lent a weight of fire sufficient to kill the remaining big guns while being essentially immune to point defense.

The raiders decided for the only prudent option, survival. With the big guns silenced the frigates could end them at leisure. Two of the frigates went to chase them, at least to keep them under the shell of electronic warfare long enough that reinforcements would arrive from the Eoghan carrier group even if they couldn't kill them before they made good an escape.

Now it was time for the infantry to earn their upkeep.

Destroyer Raiding group

They parted the Aether shadows of hyperspace with their sleek hulls. They might not be stealth ships proper but their hyperdrives still pushed the limits of stealth. And still the hunters paced them perfectly, destroyer raiders and pirate raiders showing their familial relationship openly. Prismatic spray of hyperspace energies broke through shields and splashed across armored hulls as they braved shallow shoals in the chase.

The pursuers lost one of their own as it's hyperdrive surged and turned it's engine spaces into a bomb as it slammed into the denser hyperspace tissue of the shoals. It had failed where none of the others had thanks to the battering it had received from the Roubvogel's missile strikes

The Eoghan destroyers knew that they could only run so far. Either they too would be overcome by the shear insanity of their course, or allies for the pirates were likely to join in. With this in mind they left the comfortable confines of hyperspace for the deepest abyss of the void.

Here in this Stygian waste the destroyers broke into 2 groups, each headed at 90 degrees to their course in hyperspace. The destroyer Alshish headed one group, Luxrai headed the other. The 4 Raiders found nothing in front of them for their main plasma cannons to overwhelm, but with the T crossed the Alshish and peers opened up with their defensive rail-guns.


A different Eoghan Destroyer sighted October 3400, request's for further information on ship name and mission (especially the OMINOUS call sign observed) were returned with a standard Top Secret form letter.

The raiders quickly started to bring their main plasma guns to bear while the lighter guns exchanged fire with the Eoghan defensive guns, and the occasional missile launch from the anti-strike craft missiles. As the spinal mounted plasma cannons the pirates had were brought to bear the Destroyers they targeted starburst away from each other and started spiraling lazily towards the raiders. A few shots landed, with the Luxrai being saved by taking the shot on it's thin wing rather then body core. The shot tore through the thin layer of plating and back into space, shattering a part of the incredibly sensitive sensor system in the wing with (heat)shock.

Finally within knife fight ranges destroyer and raider tumbled past each other. Raiders tried to manuever until they could get solid blows with their main gun, while the ever so slightly smaller destroyers finally opened up with real weapons. Plasma Torpedoes fired from the casements on the prow curved slowly towards their targets, point defense Gatling lasers absorbed mostly by their plasma shield. Rear firing very close ranged lightning cannons ripped across space hoping to find a target within a 100km to touch.

Both groups were crying loudly for help, both knowing that it was too close. One of the destroyers was left for cripple after a heavy blow split it's coolant tank in twain, yet it bracketed it's foe in defensive missiles as power shut down throughout. The Alshish and it's remaining 'squad'-mate reached out and touched the distracted champion twice as they curved past. Twice was enough for the lightning cannons to rend through the shields and stab the hull with tendrils of the cannons awesome power. It burned even as another pair of Eoghan destroyers left the fight. Seven torpedoes suddenly decided that they didn't want to pursue their original targets and all changed course smartly into a raider. Shields and point defense claimed all but one, which penetrated deeply and melted away a full quarter of the ship in a dull incendiary glow.

Two on three. It wasn't decisive, but numbers were the downfall of the Raiders. This close in reaction and the ability to keep on a target while not letting the unengaged Destroyer make it's way in close was too much for the under trained pirate crews. The final two Raiders started turning tail, and once they glanced at their scopes did it in double time. Eoghan reinforcements were large and fast, at least one war cruiser with all too much firepower at it's side. Only latter would they learn that their own reinforcements had focused on the more pressing concern of their hidden lair and communication center.

Valentine looked down on the fallen, those who had either been too close to the breach in the moments after the shuttle burned through or those who had been there before during the radiation bursts from the attacks. Of those that had fallen many if not most would be granted the mercy of death. Valentine didn't care, but of all the people he had experienced he could taste the horror of one Anglican in particular. It was barbaric yes, but the Assault ships they had come in on were massively overloaded for their size, with the design skimping out on Hospital stations. Even with their escorts they would be strained with their own casualties until reinforcements arrived.

He looked one of the fallen in the eye while the combat team finished crossing over from the assault ship to shuttle and into the hallway. He couldn't identify the creature's species, but that was only a small surprise. Rather he saw that quiet muffled look of one who had nothing left but death to look forward too. It was a familiar look, one that Valentine had seen worn too often, one that was almost a part of his being. Yet it was surprising seeing it on someone who was so far removed from his own idea of what was as to be unrecognizable.

His short rifle barked once, in a proclamation of mortality that ended the moment. He then turned and followed the team's spotter drone. They had a mission to complete.


In SPACE!
Assault Captain Petya took his leave from the ground command theatre; a cramped and busy place, in a good way seeing as the assault was in it’s first stages and going well. This meant that he could train his command level gaze on the other potential problem.

This other problem had found itself a home in one of the smaller depleted storage rooms. The Infantry had either eaten through it or were even now using it on the station. Either way the remaining crates were just furnishings to use to prop-up a holo table or comm and fire control computers. This basic room now had quite a few aides, tactical advisors and a comm scan secialist, all tackling the potential of a counter attack before reinforcements could arrive. The had had a short plan before arriving, but with such limited intel it was obviously not going to stay relevant.

Petya waited for the junior Air Wing commander entered before allowing the door to rematerialize, letting in the sound of a passing tankette for a few precious moments. Air Wing Commander Etzel carried with him a pilot’s vac-suit thrown across his back and held along-side a tube of sealant in his jaw, as he trotted on all fours. Two command officers entereing was enough to silence the room thoroughly.

This strenuous silence was shattered by the squeaking and squawking over the comm box. The now obvious connection was quickly addressed by the specialist. The holo table spoke better to what they were working on than anything that could have been said.

With a bitterly hopeful note Capt. Petya questioned them, “Is this worst case?”

“Close, absolute worst has too little of a confidence level to plan against. Though we were wondering about the exact specific’s you wanted for operational goals.”

One of the other aides continued, “For instance what should we do for the Infantry? How should we plan on retrieving them in case of a retreat?”

Petya blinked, and placed one claw on his temple above his eye (a rather rude gesture, implying that one is not worthy of fighting with, generally in response to something someone says.) “You are asking the wrong question, what should the infantry do for us. They are expendable in pursuit of their goals, but they could still seize enough of the functioning gear to use against attackers. Ultimately we should only focus on holding out until either reinforcements arrive or our goals are achieved on the station.”

“Question from encryption control on our escort leader.”

“Go ahead.”

“This is the crypt chief, we were wondering if we should refocus our efforts on the battlefield encryption. As it is we are working mainly on the final part of the prior engagement from when the raiders were sending data links back to aim for the bigger guns, since fire control thinks that they can get some good counter fire protocols ready from the data.”

“Actual that is a good goal, ask fire control if you need to put more cycles forward on that project. You have my permission to do so if they request it.”

“Air wing commander, what is the status of the wing?”

“Bad, I got a lot of wounded and some hurting people too. The pilots are trying to work it out, but even with reserves it looks like we have less than the number of birds ready to receive them. Though some of the birds need more space to be taken care of properly, the crews asked me to poke around seeing if they could through some of the tanks out the bay doors.”

“I’ll pass it on, though I think some of the tanks are void proof. Ah just a moment.”

Over his communicator one of the operators in ground command theatre sent him an ultrasonic data transmission, that his brain augments sorted out into a coherent statement. He dematerialized the exit. “I am sorry gentlemen, but I think I am going to have to leave you to it for now. And Commander Etzel you better not be thinking of joining your people and birds in the next scrap.”

“Aww, but to lead them I should be setting a good example to all the wounded that are volunteering for it.” Going unheard of course, since the door had already rematerialized behind the departing assault captain, who really didn’t have the authority to stop him anyway.

Aboard the Roubvogel

All attention was focused on the long-range plots. Their hiding spot was giving them some respite in which to effect damage control and repairs, but it wouldn't last for too long. They had already been forced to move several times now. Many other types of Eoghan vessels would have gotten away under the protection of stealth screens and diffusion fields, but they had none. Instead they had relied on smarts and raw engine power to hide. They hadn't truly gotten free from the shadowy smear on the long-range passive scans but they had gathered precious time.

A notification arose in the foggy eternity of the holographic plot, an automatic alert that the shadow had broken from it's search pattern and was accelerating in hyperspace. Time was short, but still enough for them to take a breath before the chase continued, just as it had over the last week.

“Captain do we have a plan?” the 'or are we just delaying the inevitable' was left unsaid, but with the chase spiraling away from help and following more and more whimsical navigation it didn't need to be. The crew knew this, and while they weren't using up the last of their coolant (thanks to using less power, such that the radiators were sufficient) they were running out of tricks.

“I have a half plan. Eventually they will have to refuel at which point we should be able to flee freely. Unfortunately this pirate is very good at what he does, and I am not certain we can keep ahead of him long enough for him to run out.”

“Then it isn't that good of a plan, right? Our pursers are only catching up thanks to our rests. Wouldn't it be better to keep running?

“I don't entirely trust the engine and power grid after the battering we received form them, though the repair teams' checks have turned up only good news there. However it doesn't change the fact that we don't have a lot of coolant left and the radiators work better when out of hyperspace. Sides the more we wear their fuel down chasing us the more equal it will be when we clash.”

“Sounds more like a plan than before, Captain. But wouldn't it be better if we choose the battlefield instead of the pirate getting to choose?”

“Indeed, and it might even be time soon to do so. Navigator, damage control says you are free for hyperspace running. Engage on route . Now it you all will excuse me I have a meeting with damage control command to see if we will be ready for them.”



Aboard the Underhanded

Archivist Kázmér didn't know what was more torturous; the torture or the voices. On one paw the torture had attempted to break him with hot brands, drowning and a cocktail of drugs; on the other the voices had stopped their inane and tedious torments, like calling out deaths throughout the universe, and were focused on him shouting over whatever anti-psi field the pirates were using.

Though the low oxygen environment gave them both a run for their money.

Yesterday he might have said they were both more insistent and constant and they spoke of far more horrific fates than he ha imagined the pirates could have contemplated. But then he was introduced to their cruel imagination, and he realized that it was one in the same torment, the eldritch voices had only put forth the truth of the horrors or the pirates’ methods.

He could feel the slivers of pain as the nanites he had been injected with slowly turned his flesh to stone. He had seen the garden of statues in the shifting room of shadows where they had tortured him, each one made more terrifying by the voices describing the people encased.

Now he was to join them.

"Or you could accept my boon," this voice and it's false hope had been the quietest but most clear. It's false hope made all the others more horrifying in their depravity, for it was now clearly that they (the voices) didn't have to be that way if they were anything like this one. But it was all for nothing, he could do nothing and he had no reason to try, he was so deep in the pirates grasp. "But you are wrong little one, you do have a reason to try. Even now battle is coming, and the Roubvogel's only hope is for you to accept my diminutive boon."



Command Center, Pirate communication Station H-6

"Oi Boss where's ya at?" ‘Twas a mess in da kommand centa, wit ruble and bodiez all ofer da place.

"Geg get your bloudy lil head ova 'ere and 'elp. Da rest of ya gretchin get da gunz an' bring me my choppa."

"Boss wut cha need me fer?"

Boss Ogzell lifted Geg up by one meety green hand, so da gretchin could see what Ogzell saw. "Get back eehind dis 'ere omputer, grab dat cable and pull it in half. Shove one end dere and do otter dere. Den pull out dat mess o wirez and give ta me and puch dat circuit board inta da hole. An' don't ferget ta bring me ta moonshine dats ben hidden back dere."

It would be a gud time fer a drink. Stull doz shipz wernt given him tame ta think. Da, he just needed to think fasta, an kome ta dat he probably needed to heel fasta too. He plucked a piece of shrapnel from 'is back and started dabbing 'im self down wit red paint. Ol' Boss Conehead and is hell dog might not 'ave thought much of Ogzel, but he was their man 'ere. Sure 'is old scarez on 'is back hurt from their daggerz, but he had come back each time ta their suhpriz. Dis might be a lonely place far away from da otter Orkz but twas a fun little place.

"Dun Boss, ere's da moonshine, don't hurt me."

"I's not gunna hurt cha, leest not 'et." He took the bunch of wirez and jammed them onto the back of a broken control panel and into the largest button, which he quickly dubbed red with paint. "When I sez ta ya hit dis 'ere button 'ard and keep hitting eet."

He stepped back to admire his handiwork, it was sparking and arcing with spots beginning to glow a dull red as it over heated. Twas just so beautiful.

Now o' course it was time to smash and run. Maybe if he was feeling merciful he would save some o da... Assets as Boss Conehead liked calling dem.



IN SPACE, around the station

""Contact, multi-type along the RB106y pathway. Half a minute until closest possible transition, Unknown count."

All five heavy frigates began retracting their extended radiators. They had adopted a close defensive formation, where each vessel's kinetic screens would cover all of them. The smaller Assault ships were cowering near the station covering it with their jammers and point defenses. They could try to provide long-range fire support, but unlike their close relatives (the Kabutops class Destroyers) long range fire wasn't really integral to the design.

"Transition shock detected, counting ... 10... 12... 13... 15... 17... 20. Twenty shocks, various types. Type A is the known plasma destroyer type. Type B identified by drive commonality, hulls are varied, count of seven. Type C 3 EUC Dreamer old-type escorts. Last, 2 Solarian Corporate defense drones with variation."

"Hold fighter launch. Ping those type 2's with active targeting but hold kinetic strikes on all but Vil’tril’th and Firmament. Keep defensive screens on full."

"Sir plasma torpedo tubes 3-6 are loaded, and Gaens is already preparing a second loading cycle on all tubes."

"Tell them to launch everything with sensor suppression routines." This was one of the minute flaws in the Frigate design; despite having a large number of tubes they were restricted on both firing arc and rate of fire. Indeed the number of tubes was in part to compensate for their slow rate of fire.

Eight ultraviolet flares flashed our of the bow armor of Gaens and blue-shifted out of the Eoghan's sight. The bows of both Vil’tril’th and Firmament were glowing as the kinetic projectors buried within threw energy into space. The vessel's called type B by the gunners who fired, were a collection of small light pirate ships common enough to the galaxy at large, and they were already firing at the Eoghan line, with no success despite their great number. The older model Dreamer Escorts started covering their smaller compatriots with their powerful defensive jammers, but the slower reaction and slow old equipment left the small pirates vulnerable for moments too long. 6 kinetic strikes landed on 6 little ships, and 4 survived. The others died mostly thanks to the ambitions of their owners who had mounted very large and dangerous weapons in largely dangerous ways. Finally the plasma torpedoes arrived, seeking out the powerful jammers on the Dreamer class escorts, and eating up the truly immense amounts of point defense fire that was directed at them. The point defenses won, if only just, letting a single damaged torpedo impact on the screens of the Dreamer Dawn of Greed.

The plasma destroyers started firing, two per heavy frigate. This time all the Eoghan frigates fired torpedoes, 27 of them lashed out into the void. The small and fast pirate sloops began spreading out and englobing the defenders, playing the odds of being close to the jammers or far enough to maneuver against the firepower. The former Solarian ships moved forward, one covering the other, while the jammers on the Dreamers were slowly pushed aside by the newer active sensors aboard the ships of the line. The building pressure from the plasma destroyers had caused all the Eoghan ships prows to start glowing from their shield exertions. Gaens started flinging knife-fighting missiles to hold back the sloops, with the others joining in as fast as their launchers could cycle. Now spread out the smaller sloops couldn't cover the Torpedo spam with enough point defense to save the old Dreamers, the first shot on one was absorbed by the kinetic field which lost enough particle density that it couldn't stop the next; while another dreamer's field let the first round past but shorted the next two.

Aboard the assault ship Air Wing Commander Etzel, shifted in the small Encore class fighter’s Cockpit. Launch orders had come and they were going to go forth soon and hunt the light pirate ships to free the Frigates to persecute the other pirate ships. Command had saved them from venturing forth when the pirates were grouped and their point defense was most effective. Now though it was time for them to charge. And he would lead his men into the breach, or what were left of his pilot corps after the last sortie.

The G forces pressed him into the seat as he launched.



The Roubvogel Reawakens

Two pulses from the Roubvogel’s kinetic Javelins reached out and threw the Underhanded off course as it completed the decelerating transition from hyperspace. Shields held, once again that having excess volume wasn’t always a bad thing in warship design, the shield generators had plenty of room for shock absorption. The Underhanded stopped decelerating and coasted out of the Roubvogel's range, but into the furthest reaches of the rings around the rouge gas giant they were fighting over.

Both ships started volleying missiles, the Roubvogel's in an effort to attrition the strike. The only weapon that Roubvogel lashed out with were her two spinal under-wing mounted railguns, firing wide but agitating the debris field and causing a visible flare when they hit the planet.

"Captain we can't keep missing with those shots, the guns require too much for cooling and is cutting deeply into our coolant reserve."

"Set power at a quarter on each shot and load semi guided plasma warheads instead of kinetic impactors. That should help conserve coolant and increase our hit percent. We will hit."

Even as he spoke the Roubvogel's defensive railguns and autoblaster mounts filled space as their defensive missile launch cells neared empty. They had additional missiles, but they were buried deep within the hull's internal storage bays, which were impractical to reload from during combat.

They had closed range enough to use kinetic Javelins. Despite the fact that the other impacts hadn't passed through they kept firing, hoping to land blows close enough together to overwhelm one shield generator at a time rather than waiting for the Underhanded's shields to lose a battle of endurance. And yet even their best shots were proving pointless as the Underhanded remembered it's origins as ore prospector and shifted debris into the incoming shots.

The plasma warheads gave one good opening that they could exploit. One of the shield generators flickered off after triggering the blast rather than taking the brunt of the fireball. Into the breach an errant defensive railgun round pierced the thin hull and shredded part of the Underhanded's fore missile launchers while some of the excited debris made a mess of the under-defended section.

It was obvious that neither ship really had the upper hand as the Roubvogel was forced back to give it's point defenses more time to intercept the stream of missiles. Parts of their hull were glowing from the hits that had been landed already from the Underhanded's missiles. Not to mention that the Roubvogel was still suffering from the prior battle, with the hasty repairs and almost empty tanks of coolant, while the Underhanded was low on fuel and missiles (since it's bays had originally been filled with mines). Now the remaining load of mines was jettisoned to form a crude minefield in an effort to keep the Roubvogel from risking a close battle using it's broadside lightning cannons with their potentially decisive firepower.

Something had to give, but neither captain had a way to tell when it did, when Archivist Kázmér gave in to the voice and it's saccharine promises.



Boss' go for it! Aboard the pirate communication station

Valentine slide another round into his rifle. The press of attack and counter attack had grown far more vicious. the pirates had suddenly gotten a lot more together and organized, but it was odd that there were no real leaders amongst the mob. Interesting.

He was still with the same assault team, though their spotter drone had been ripped apart and two of their number withdrawn for injuries. Not that they all weren't sporting marks form the number of close calls they had experienced, except for Kail'sh their heavy weapon support. the exoskeleton she wore to support her kinetic generator had protected her almost as well as the defensive fields she would have the generator put out had.

She was in such good cheer for a war zone, that despite the fighting the questions she asked just wouldn't stop. "So what made you joint the Intelligence service?" or "where did you grow up?", "Do you also like Animal House?" and even "What's your blood type? Mines..." This sort of questioning is why he preferred to stay away from the home offices. Irrelevant and for the sake of curiosity, he had only glares for those shorts of questions. And it was far worse at the Offices, Eoghans whom worked in the Intelligence profession had a far greater sense of curiosity tuned into their every thought it seemed.

The questions he would have heard at home base were less "Who was your first love?" and more "Can you tell me what love is?" Okay so their curiosity wasn't as well developed as that one Collector drone all those years back, and not every Eoghan was like that, but it was obnoxious still.

He heard another mob that was hiding around the corner in a cross-corridor, another fight that would delay them. It wasn't like they were even finding any real information or people he could question. Still they were almost to the server farm so his day shouldn't be a complete waste.

Kail'sh reached one armored paw around the corner in mid whispered question (that he completely ignored) and sent a wave of force from the wrist mounted projector into the crowded corridor. This undirected and low level blow couldn't kill any of them, but it was going to hit all of them, throwing them off of their balance. One of the little Eoghan soldiers in the team (he couldn't tell most of them apart from behind) had climbed onto a rock outcropping and was firing poison rounds from above with his Shard Carbine.

Valentine took a couple of steps back as the others added their harassing fire from around the blind corner. A grenade come clattering back in reply, only for Kail'sh to send it further down the corridor with a full tank killing blast of force that shattered the ground around it. The pirates were certainly regaining their composure.

Judging the moment carefully, Valentine leaped forward into a back flipping had spring past the cross-corridor full of pirates. He shot once in mid flight, but took two shots in doing so. One buried itself into his left shoulder while the other bounced off of his armored gauntlet. He landed in a roll, grunting with pain as his injured shoulder hit the ground. An explosion a couple of seconds later told him that he had indeed hit his mark and that the grenadier was down alongside the rest of the mob.

'Stupid pirates, too poor to use laser weapons. Bullets are a pain to clean up after.' He pushed himself up, knowing full well that he to used a regular old riffle that wouldn't look out of place on almost any world. He had left it on the ground so he could push with his better arm.

"You ok?" The team leader cut right to the heart of it. Practical little leader.

"I'll be fine."

"That was a stupid stunt, we would've had them. Why did you risk it?" Another question form Kail'sh, this time not so annoying.

"We're real close, and we should hurry. They're stalling a little too much for their own good. and are a little too organized for that to be a coincidence. We don't really have time to scrap them all out of our way neatly... or are you forgetting the battle in space?" He carefully picked up his fallen riffle and slung it across his back before drawing his flechette pistol from his hip.

"Right, team double time it. You heard him."

The corridor didn't run on very long in a strait line, right where the sever room door was it jerked off towards the left. They huddled just shy of the new stretch of corridor's view. "This is just like that repeater nest we hit forty minutes ago, slight turn right next to an objective, and an easy turkey shoot for defenders. You remember what happened then yes?"

"Yes, sir/leader," was the whispered chorus. They had lost both their drone and taken the worst beating against it.

"Right, so to prove that we can learn a lesson I am going to call the tankette now rather than after we have taken injuries." It would take a couple minutes, as an assault team they were ranging a little further ahead and covering more ground than the regular teams and especially the tankettes. The tankettes had been deployed sparingly and were going slow so that they wouldn't over extend their much-needed support.

"Sir, I would like it if we didn't have too wait. Shouldn't we confirm contact before assuming the worst?"

"Do you really want to stick your head out there to see? Be my guest if you do."

"I'll do it." Damn Kail'sh and her curiosity, a dead head can be curious no more. She quickly darted her head out into the corridor, having enough sense to throw up a defensive field at least. "Clear."

The team leader waited a couple of seconds more for any ambushers to give themselves away, but it was pointless. He finally motioned for the team to take the door. When opened it proved to be off of its hinges. The scene that greeted them was pretty bad, the various computers were dented and sheared though. The few personnel that had been in here were dead to either the same tool that had damaged the servers or were shot by some sort of explosive projectile that made quite a mess of the walls. And there was the loud sound of something breaking through a wall further into the room.

"Come on they are further in!" Though by the sidelong glance that Valentine it couldn't be anyone important since the officers were dead in the room.

A blast door cut off one of the further paths, so they started going around till they found an access hatch to the maintenance area. They found a small out look and saw a crowd of gretchin and other assorted pirates milling and apparently shutting down the equipment in the bay. The team opened up on the crowd before they could be spotted. Valentine tried to balance his one hand for the long shots down into the crowd, but found the rail he was bracing it with was shaking.

All of a sudden a red painted Ork burst through the wall onto the outlook the team was on, shouting, "Oh yeah! Fightin' time." One of the team took a round from down below and fell silent while the large ork started swinging his choppa around in big circles. Valentine put two flechette rounds into the Ork, though it failed to stop him before he backhanded Valentine with his un-powered claw hand sending him flying into the wall.

Kail'sh leaped towards the Ork, her powered exoskeleton and assisted field generators evening up the score. They traded blows for a couple seconds until the Ork grabbed a hold of the exoskeleton and started squeezing. The exoskeleton shorted out leaving her paralyzed, and the team leader put a round from his lightning rifle into the Ork. The round spasm-ed his arm and knocked Kail'sh over. The Ork responded by throwing his choppa at him and knocking him over the rail. As the Ork charged towards the rest of the team he yelled into his helmet, "Waaagh!! Geg hit da button!"

The rest of the team jumped over the rail and relied on the low gravity (for Eoghans at least it was low gravity) to survive the jump. Valentine got back up. The Ork was just about ready to jump, so Valentine fired off another round into his back before the pistol jammed. The Ork turned as the grots charged in to engage the team. Valentine met the Orks charge with one of his own. He backhanded the Orks clawed hand with his own gauntlet, which ripped the Orks tendons and left the arm useless.

Still the Orks shear weight threw him back again. This time he landed on his feet. The Ork dropped his head and showed the big horn his helmet was decorated with. It was quite an effective little weapon. So once again Valentine met the charge with a kick to the neck, but in turn was met by the Orks other arm that flipped him back on to his back. The blow knocked his breath away, but he struggled to stand anyway. The Ork dragged him up by his cape sneering at him.

"Little hummie tried hard but no luck."

"There is no try," with that Valentine punched into the Ork's guts with his gauntlet. The Ork doubled over with the hit, but Valentine winced from the shock on his injured shoulder. With the Orks head bent into reach Valentine pistol-whipped him, finally dropping him on the third blow.

He cradled the Orks head, this creature was undoubtedly important by the shrieks of the now fleeing gretchin. He had to know, so he brought his head down and pierce the Orks neck drinking the blood readily memories flowed just as fast as the Orks unsteady heart could beat. It was glorious, yet confusing as the memories were processed. Finally he turned from the cooling corpse. He remembered the voice of Helmut as it spoke for the Orks master. He even could feel the numerous knife strokes that his service had incurred.

He stood, reinvigorated, and met Kail'sh's questioning gaze. "What are you?"

"I am the child of the eternal race. But we must hurry to save the day little one."

IN Space near the Escher, Sector H6 Pirate Communication Station

The Gastly class Heavy Frigates were maneuvering more now as they waited for the fighters to Launch and form up. The new fire predictor scheme that fire control had come up with in the nearly two hours after the initial strike was letting far less shots land shots land then the numbers should have allowed. It was sloppy and far from being as good as it could have been, but for the time invested in it it was paying off.

Wing Commander Etzel looked at his scopes, the rest of his actions guided by habit and Instinct. He had joined the third launch group of 5 fighters, the small primary launch bay on the assault ship being inefficient at mass launches. Each group of five had two loaded with a mix of melee and seeker missiles, two with seekers and an anti-ship plasma warhead with the last bringing dumb-fire mortars and was the primary strike craft of each group. The Escher was leading the other Assault ships in launching fighters, their fourth launch having just begun, while the slowest was only finishing loading the third for launch.

"Alpha Escher Fighter Group, our targets are along the K7 spin-ward nav-marker at -7 relative to the Horizon Remember we can only take our target if we work together. Until Beta Group launches only engage target 4."

They pushed forward, ECM from a couple of birds covering them from the combine firepower for now. Their target was one of the little sloops that had taken a good solid hit from the frigates. It was still firing and maneuvering, but it's shields were intermittent and focused against the frigates. The Assault ships were helping mauling target #2, rapid fire railgun rounds switching from solid shot to fragmentary rounds that tried to find weak points in the shields and armor. The first five fighters came into range and let loose with a light salvo of small missiles. It would do no good to overkill when there were so many targets.

Before the next group of five could find the range a pulse of greater fire blinded them. In their wake the Asteroid was shunting all of it's power into it's remaining communications and sensor systems. Several of the launching fighters had been caught in the Energy burst and were no more. Those that hadn't were either far enough away or hiding beneath the wings of their motherships as it's shields formed a solid wall of particles that were slowly eroding away.

This is bad, thought Wing Commander Etzel, we'll need the rest of the fighters to even think attacking the rest of the pirate ships. He grimaced as the sloop of war they had been targeting picked apart the missile strike. Another group of fighters flicked out a couple of missiles, breaking the point defenses concentration long enough for the first group to get in close and strafe the sloop with auto-blasters and snub nosed lightning cannons. The one remaining missile was redirected at the last second into target #2 who was trying to be a hero and save #4. Both were quickly crippled and the fighters took refuge near the burning ships, were they would be protected from long range pot shots.

His computer beeped at him, the Assault ships were splitting their fire, putting fragmentary bursts into the Asteroid's numerous antennas. The attempt was too controlled thanks to the troops on board they were trying to limit collateral damage, and there were too many antennas too kill.

It was helping bit by bit in letting the already launched but cowering fighters join Escher Alpha group. the stream of pairs and triples leapt forth only to see the trailing Solarian style ship launch combat drones in a solid mass. They couldn't land and there were no more reinforcements for now until the antennas burned.

He glance down at his warhead load as he pulled away from the dying sloops, "Flight 3 on me, set course for the station and ready all missiles for anti- radiation strikes. Fire on my mark only." He was dooming the troops aboard most likely, but the were already lost for the good of the mission.