StarDestroyer.Net BBS

Over at Librium Arcana Hotfoot is running a TGOD in which I am a particpant. This fic is about the history of my nation, the Narsen Domain, which I kept kicking around in my head. It should be comprehensible without referencing the TGOD thread, which I am posting anyway for those of you who are curious: http://www.libriumarcana.com/phpBB2/vie ... php?t=1300

Azon
The Republic of Azon
Landfall
-3 years.

Professor Indira DeCora watched warily as the her audience left the lecture hall. Normally there would be hand shakes, congratulations, and discussions with colleagues afterwords, but not today. There was a Man of Importance in the audience and everyone had noticed his entrance half way through her speech. No one was interested in courting trouble.

She opened her briefcase and shuffled her data flimsies inside. The Man of Importance had gotten up and his security with him. He was tall, tanned, dark haired, and handsome like a holo star. His jacket, pants, and shirt were a conservative black, but his belt buckle, cufflinks, and buttons were platinum.

His security was well dressed as well. Dark suits with ulges under their jackets, of course, with torso bulked out by concealed armour. Perfect tailoring and expensive looking chronos on their wrists. They followed their master.

Their wardrobe was too expensive for the government, so they weren't from the Ministry of Public Order. The bodyguards of one of the New Nobles or one of their right hand men. Or someone from the President's household. Not that they would send someone that important to deal with her.

"Madam professor, might I have a word with you?" he asked politely.

She hesitated, half way through zipping up her briefcase. "Yes," she replied.

He smiled in a manner that somehow was completely charming. "I am interested in your theories professor. A glorious new future. Healthier, smarter, happier human beings and all the associated benefits that comes with them. Which is the second half of your problem. I am assured that the Secura Act will be renewed and the restrictions on genetic engineering maintained. The president won't even have to veto it."

"I am sure your sources are correct." Privately, she didn't have much hope that the act wouldn't be renewed.

"Very few people like the idea of scary, genetically engineered supermen running around. Your warm, fuzzy posthuman gloss isn't enough to get past those fears. The president worries enough about controlling a population of ordinary humans and neither him or the Senate actually likes the idea of an informed and rational electorate. They might realize that their vote is worthless and really desire to change something."

He had to be one of the New Nobles. No one else would think of uttering such sedition in public and not being arrested by the Ministry. "I'm sure the president and the Senate have our best interests at heart," she said cautiously.

"Ah yes, you would rather cautious on this issue. Your husband spent, what, one and a half years in prison?"

"Fifteen months and seven days," she replied. "Until he recieved a presidential pardon."

"Very generous of the president. He likes grandious displays of benevolence. And who could feel for the bold doctor, performing illegal genetic manipulation in order to save his wife's life. The president not only pardoned him, but set up a review board to consider allowing GE in similar cases. Very munificent of him. It played very well in the media. Even the non-state channels ate it up."

"Excuse me messer, but I'm afraid I don't see how these details of my life are of interest to you."

"Ah," he said, "I have been neglectful. I am Tarjan Kalesh. You have heard of my father."

"I was unaware that the great magnate had a son."

His lips curled mischeviously. "The great magnate had many secrets. One of them was the creation of his son and heir, who had to be perfect. He either bent, broke, or got around all those laws you want to get rid off. One of the results is me. Trust me, you'll sleep better if you don't know my father's other choices when it came to customized human beings."

Indira's eyes widened slightly. Tarjan had casually confessed to a crime that's only punishment was incineration. "You are surprised that I will admit it so easily. I am one of the New Nobility. As long as I stay out of politics and don't disrupt the social order, which means the public becoming sufficiently upset with me, there is nothing I can't get away with. My businesses prop up state power. The president wants every magnate, businessman, and up and comer to believe its in his best interest to prop up the regime. I could rape teenage girls and prepubescent boys as a hobby, as long as the public didn't get upset by it. Trust me, my father got away with worse. The libelous claim by one professor is nothing compared to that level of immunity."

"I see," she said. "What do you want?"

"To help you," he said. "My father wanted the perfect heir, he didn't want to raise him. So other people, those with something resembling morals and decency, did so and I had the education that everyone wishes they could lavish on their child prodigy. As a result I am nothing like my father. You and your supporters must know that your cause is dead here and surrounding space isn't much friendlier. You and your fellow believers going to have to leave to get a shot at becoming post human and building utopia. That takes money."

"We're working on it," she replied.

"Clever woman," he said smiling. "The president will be more than happy to see you vanish into deep space and he certainly won't try to stop you. As for me the one thing I have, besides my father's personal asteroid fortress, is money and resources. Including three shipyards."

Indira hesitated. To say that Victor Kalesh had a sinister reputation was an understatement. "Under what conditions?"

"I want to come with you."

"Your father will agree to this?"

"The opinions of my father are no longer relevant and indeed, no longer exist. He's been dead for half a year. His empire is mine."

Starmaster Yards
High Orbit
Azon
The Republic of Azon
Landfall -2 years

Indira gazed out at the skeleton of the ship in the assembly bay. Automated loaders were maneuvering metal plating and pieces of machinery into position where the spac suited workers attached them in place. "Does it have to have so many guns?"

"We are going into the far dark, beyond civilized space. What are we going to do? Surrender to raiders? Hope that after they've finished raping and stealing they will leave us alone?" Kalesh's voice was jovial.

"No," she replied, "but that doesn't mean I have to like it."

"Good. I hope we won't. Having long range cruisers as part of our flotilla will ensure our safety. It's not like Azoni dollars are going to be any good in our new society. I might as well spend as many of mine as possible." Soft footfalls on the carpet behind him caught Tarjan's attention. "Welcome back doctor."

"Thank you," replied Michael DeCora. Like his wife he was sliding gracefully into early middle age. His hair was as dark as hers, but his skin and eyes were pale. He kept his beard short and neatly trimmed. She was not a small woman, but he towered over her.

"What do you think of our gunships?" Kalesh asked.

"I have learned not to hold too much faith in the benevolence of my fellow man."

"So many cynics," Kalesh laughed. "And we wish to uplift the human race."

"Enviromental factors are as important as genetic," replied DeCora. He smiled. "Violent tribal peoples and authoritarian dictatorships do not encourage virtue."

"True," said Tarjan, "that's what makes your wife's work so interesting. Harnassing post human abilities in such away as to benefit society and future generations as a whole, while rewarding contribution. I must say I dreaded to read her economic model. I was quite afraid all this brilliant theorizing was going to married to blind commu-idealism."

Indira laughed. "I will certainly consider it. Just show me evidence that it works better than regulated capitalism."

"Considering regulated capitalism is what's allowing us to do this in the first place, I think that will be difficult," Tarjan replied dryly. "To change the subject, I heard we are acquiring more followers."

"Yes," said Michael. "Now that it seems real, not a pipe dream, a lot more people are signing on. Especially since the government is allowing it. Your doing?"

"Not really," Tarjan demoured. "Most governments are delighted when potential trouble makers agree to vanish of their own accord. We aren't trouble yet, but we might be. Although the fact that when we go, more than a few Senators and members of the Presidential Family will collect on sweet heart deals for my holdings does tend to grease the wheels. Greed is very useful."

"Speaking of new members," said Indira, "I've noticed some ex-military are joining up."

"You suspect me of less than pure motives," said Tarjan. "Don't deny it. The phermones which tend to make other people more agreeable aren't the only augmentation of mine with social uses. I've exerted some influence, yes, but we need them. We're going to build a society from scratch and we are going to need a military. Our post human descendents won't be loved. Your 'true believers' will still be in control and in the vast majority."

"Tarjan-"

"Don't say it professor. Your concerns are more than reasonable. I'm the heir of the star systems most infamous monster and I can tell you his real behavior was worse than the rumours. And your suspicions are quite correct. I did murder him. With my bare hands as a matter of fact. I am very well equipped to become a dictator. Simply put, tyranny and power lust are beneath me. The destiny I choose is greatness. I desire immortal glory rather than slowly forgotten infamy, to be one of the fathers of great and noble endeavour rather a technologically sophisticated barbarian warlord. Take your precautions, they do not offend me. They are there to protect all of us, are they not?"

"That's a nice rhetorical trick," she replied.

"Thank you. My tutors worked hard to give me such skills. They were more my family than the gene donor that was my father. He hired men better than he was to raise his son. Is it no wonder that I turned out like this? Nurture as well as nature, professor. Just as you say."

Starmaster Yards
High Orbit
Azon
The Republic of Azon
Landfall -14months

"The day has come," said Indira DeCora over the flotilla wide broadcast channel. "Nearly one hundred thousand of us will depart to found a new world and a new society. We have colony ships and cruisers, a dedicated factory ship and scouts. We have experts and professionals from all fields of endeavours, dreamers and pragmatists, craftsmen and intellectuals. We stand on the cusp of our great, golden dream.

"A fleet can not be run like a committee, but we will not betray our ideals. We have elected a senate of our own and they shall have power to remove and confirm our leaders. A council of experts shall advise. Everyone is accountable for what kind of future shall we build if the foundation is corrupt.

"We will venture far into the dark, beyond the reach of civilized stars. We may encounter untold dangers. On this, our great journey and trial, we will need to work together as we will depend upon each other totally to survive.

"On this day, we consign our future to the void and to ourselves. We shall venture out into danger and prove ourselves fit to survive, fit to continue ourselves, fit to make new worlds in the image of our ideals. We shall tame our vices and make them fuel our virtues. This is the beginning of a better world. One unfettered by oppressive traditons, antiquated concepts of sin and morality that belong in world of bronze swords and divine rapine, of institutions and leaders who enrich themselves at the expense of all of others, of indifferent bureaucrats protecting their own petty little domains, of a downtrodden underclass, and half-restrained crimminal vermin. A new era and a new society. Success rests in our hands and in those who follow us. Let us be strong, let us be wise, let us be worthy. I have faith in you all. We shall not fail."

The transmition ended. The last ship began to leave the docks, to join the rest of the flotilla. The ships assembled in a loose formation and began to burn towards the edge of the system.

On board the colony ship New Hope, Indira DeCora stared at the jump meter as it counted down the time until they reached hyper jump position. "Chief Executive," said a voice behind her.

She turned towards Captain Maynard. The dark skinned man was standing right behind her. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, thank you captain. Just staring at our future. And by the way I hate the title. It makes it sound like I'm a corporate bean counter."

"If you want it changed, I suggest you take it up with the Senate," said Maynard with a smile.

"I will, as soon as I can think of something better."

"Ahh. Good point. If you leave it up to them, them might easily think of something worse."

She smiled. "Indeed. Do you mind if I ask a personal queston captain?"

"Not at all."

"Why did you join us?"

"I managed to rise as high as commander in the navy, in charge of a light missle cruiser. That's about as high as it is possible to become without Senatorial or Presidential connections. Half my superiors weren't worthy of taking the places of my junior officers. I resigned before I did something that got me cashiered and ended up working in the for a private corp for more more dispicable bosses. Anything big is either owned by the gov or in business with it and crooked from top to bottom. Anything was better than the same old bullshit." He flashed a quick smile. "Especially if it includes medical treatment that will allow me to be live forever as a mean old bastard."

"You're going to have to work on the mean part," she said.

"Well, if it works out I'll have eternity to get it right."

System 9X-742-G1
Inner Planets
Landfall -4 days

"We will need to make another supply stop soon," said Tarjan. "The gas giants in the outer system are a good source, as is the cometary belt. Morale is a different issue. Fights and discontent are increasing. Disturbances are escalating. Too many people couped up in too little space, with too little to do for too long."

"Thank you for your succinct report Councilor Kalesh," said Senator Da Vinci. "Does anyone disagree with Tarjan's reports or shall we accept the obvious and move on?" Silence greeted his words.

"We need to find a world soon," said Tarjan. "We've passed by several suitable candidates in the last few weeks, not to mention this apparent beauty before us. We haven't seen an inhabited star system or tech trace in more than six months and its been eight months since we scared off those raiders. I suggest the Senate and the Chief executive strongly consider colonizing one of the next suitable planets."

"Thank you councilor," replied Indiria. "We will take it under advicement. The Advisory Council is dismissed."

----------------------------------------------------------------------

"That was quick," Tarjan. Indira walked up beside him and gazed out the porthole.

"How do you always know it is me?"

"Your perfume. Good choice by the way. Your husband does like it."

A faint smile touched her lips. "One does not have to be post human to figure that out."

"I suppose not. Your decision?"

"If this world pans out, we'll settle it."

"Unanimus I take it? Ah well, the Advisory Council does seem to have its roll set out to be stating the obvious."

"Not for much longer. We need good long range planning and analysis. Democracies often fall down in that department."

"I agree," he said. "What shall we call this shining jewel that is to be our new home?"

"Narsai," she said. "Founder's perogative. For my sister, who would have lived if we had been born into this brave new world we are making."

Narsen Domain
Narsai
Landfall +14months

"Nice house Executor."

"Thank you Consul," replied Indira DeCora, rising from her chair on the porch. "Our neighbours helped us raise it. Would you care for some ice water?"

"I will, thank you," replied Tarjan. She poured another glass from the pitcher beside her and handed him the glass "Quite the settlement we have springing up."

"Indeed. Some people are moving to the outskirts to set up big farms or ranches. It'll be a while before we have enough livestock that butchering them will be affordable."

"Give it time," he replied. "The first crop came in pretty well."

"Yes," she said. She tapped the headset she was wearing. "These are pretty popular as well. Almost as popular as using your modifications on the next generation."

"I am a product of the most advanced GE tech in a fifty lightyear radius of Azon. I make a good jumping off point." He took sip from his glass.

"Indeed. There have even been a few tweaks."

"Should I consult with your husband and his retroviral changes?"

"Not yet, I don't think," she said smiling. "But you didn't come down dirtside to discuss all of this."

"Actually, I did. In part. The factory ship and the 'bots were brought along are doing their job. There have been complications and things aren't progressing as quickly as we would like, but we aren't too far behind our projections. The basic satellite systems should be finished by the end of the year and the foundary by the next. Then we can move to the next phase."

"Laying the foundations for military production and selling/renting/leasing 'bots to the private sector?"

"Yes. We'll have banks by then, and we should hurry up and finish banking laws by the way, stock shares, government loans and partial ownership, bonds, and all the other apparati of capitalism. And some of it will come dirtside."

"How much do you stand to make?"

"That depends on how are conflict of interest laws are established."

"You are direct."

"I like building things, societies and companies." He shrugged and took another sip. "Damn, we are doing good work."

"Yes, we are. Although we could use more teachers in the near future. A lot of people are having kids."

"Good. We have a lot of space for them. And we could use a lot more of everything. Increased 'bot production will help with that. Reminds me, some cyber programs could help as well. Do more with fewer people."

"I've seen the proposals. They look good."

"They've worked well on other worlds. And our labour shortage situation is going to get worse. The children will suck it up. Best investment of course, but they will suck up the time and energy of a lot of people."

She laughed. "Wait until you get some of your own. They'll change your world."

"Perhaps," he said. "Now, about this university we are going to found. I've been hearing rumour that you have some interesting ideas."

Narsen Domain
Narsai
51 LF

The space port was packed with family and well wishers. Flower petals drifted down from the upper levels of the concourse. The travellers waved and hugged as they made their way slowly through the crowd of well wishers. "Tarjan," said the blond woman with the cyan skin, "look at all these people."

Tarjan nuzzled his wife's hair for a moment. "It's the biggest event of the decade. Everyone wants a part of it, even if it is only to celebrate." He waved at the cheering crowd as he headed for the boarding ramp. Standing beside it was a handsome woman wearing dark red tunic and pants. Her skin was light brown streaks of grey could be found in her dark hair. She tight beamed a message to him.

"Good luck, Consul. Or should I call you planetary executor?"

"Neither," he replied. "Emperor, now that I can finally found my own Evil Empire and begin my nefarious plans towards galactic domination."

Indira smiled. "Of course." Age hadn't much touched her. Good genes, not that she had been born with them. The modifications had been based on Tarjan's genes, but that work had been improved upon over the last few decades.

"We've built a damn good world here. It's time to make more of them."

"Good luck with that. I mean it. One of my grand-daughters is going with you."

"I'll try to keep her safe," he joked, "But I'm not fishing her out of those damn estuary swamps. She goes there, I'm washing my hands of it." He paused. "Wish us luck?"

"The best of luck old friend."

Sophia
Narsai
Narsen Domain

113 LF

The crowd was immense. Camera drones hovered over the crowd and panned across the great square. Tarjan Kalesh approached the podium. His hair was going white and lines marked his face.

"Others have spoken of Indira DeCora as a friend, a mother, and a grandmothers. While we were friends, I cannot honestly say we were close. Instead I will speak of the of the woman who is found in history books, a thinker, a leader, a founder of our society."

"She was brilliant, but did not assume that she knew everything of value. She was open to the possibility she was in error, which was why she so rarely was. She would not deny the usefulness of things she personally disliked, including myself when we first met."

"She saw the big picture, the greater whole, and knew how to make it better. She also valued the individual and his and her contributions, desires, and rights. She envisaged not a struggle between the two, but a complimentary marriage, each supporting and reinforcing the others.

"Now, the inhabitants of five star systems live in her dream. Nearly three million people follow in her footsteps. A glorious future stretchous before us, one she was instrumental in creating. We can best honour her memory by living well."

Tarjan stepped away from the podium. She would have hated this ceremony and all this fuss, but there was still human in the post humans. They still needed rituals and heroes and in her they had one of the best.

Tarjan consulted the expert system in his clothes. The monitors were showing that all of his life signs were in the acceptable range. Age was catching up to him as well. He could live with that, although he would have prefered to live longer. Immortality would have been nice.

Layla linked arms with him. Age hadn't much touched his wife. She was fifty years his junior and would live a long, long time. Every couple of years there was another advancement, another disease elimminated, another year of life tacked on. The next generation could see two centuries. Tarjan Kalesh would have to settle for immortality of a different source. He smiled. That was good enough for him.

The High Tabernacle
New Eden
Realm of God's Select

411 LF

"Sky Marshal Donner," said Elder Cannif, "you have something to report. The council of Elders were gathered around the table, going about the business of government. That meant mostly approving the decisions of the Voice of God, and carefully couching any criticism as hypothetical questions of faith.

"Yes elder. Our scout ships are back with reports on new frontier worlds. Most of the prospects were dismal. Two weren't." This caught the attention of the elders. The Selects terraforming technology was of a crude, brute force nature. It was a dangerous, long term process that resulted in a lot of deaths. The last wasn't a big problem. There were no shortages of volunteers.

A prosperous man of the Select could have as many wives as he could support, if the church would allow him to go through with the marriage. Those in the upper ranks of the faithful had many wives indeed and often traded their daughters to others elders in marriage. This left a lot of young men without wives in a society that did not allow premarital sex.

The crushing burden of conformity weighed on each man. If they were good, if they obeyed, then they might be able to get a wife. Chances improved if your father was a deacon or an elder, of course. Military or terraforming duty also helped, although not as much as church rank did. Service in the Eyes of God, the secret police that controlled the orbital battlestations, helped immensely.

Colonization was the real ticket. Survive on a newly settled planet, secure a large chunk of land and the beginning of a new fortune, be one of the early church builders and community leaders; do all that and the wives would come. Of course, that also got a fair number of young men killed, which also helped alleviate the pressure. Deviate and you were shunned and your marriage (if you had one) annulled and your wife taken back. Restless young men were a constant social problem which was why the men who kept an eye on them and controlled the guns in orbit were incorporated into the bottom of the hierarchy's upper level. For men who suppossedly believed in divine grace and moral illumination, a lot of their decisions bared a close resemblance to a cynical reliance on self interest.

As for the women, it didn't matter what they wanted. They were their father's, or brother's, or husband's property. If they started being immodest or failing to understand their place, that obviously meant they weren't being beaten enough.

"There is, however, a catch," said Sky Marshal Donner. "Both worlds are already inhabited."

"By whom?" asked the Voice of God, the Last True Prophet.

"Our scout ships did not make a close report, your holiness. However, they were able to intercept several signals which indicate the inhabitants are human." He placed a file on the table. "Our analysis indicates both of these worlds to be sparcely populated. Their were many similarities between these worlds. It is almost certain that they are both part of a larger nation."

"We need to know more, Sky Marshal. I am confident that God's plan will be revealed to us. We shall send an envoy to them to determine if they are heathen or holy."

The High Tabernacle
New Eden
Realm of God's Select

411 LF

The council room was dead quiet as Elder Fredricks walked in. "Elders, Prophet, I have the report of our envoy." His face twisted into a grimace.

"Please, tell us," replied the Voice of God. "It is obviously too important for us to wait for Elder Paulus to return."

"Prophet, they are abominations. They alter themselves with godless technology. Genetic manipulations as well as cybernetic." There was a collective intake of breath. "They are shameless. They flaunt their unclean nature. And their women are worse. And they deny the existence of God."

"Then we shall do as the Lord commands," spoke the Prophet. "We shall smite them with the sword and fire. We shall take their worlds and make them ours and thus shall the realm of the blessed, God's Select, shall be spread."

Heads nodded in agreement. "Inform the Sword of God that we shall make war on the heathen."

-----------------------------------------------------------

Indira House
Sophia
Narsai
Narsen Domain

"Executor," said Senator Karstein, "I'm glad you could join us."

Adam Montrose nodded as he sat down at the table. "When the Senate calls me to an emergency session, I take it very seriously. And I see the Consult does as well." Most of the had normal skin tones, although a few favored more flamboyent colours. Functional clothing of tunic and pants with woven in sensor, communication, temp control, and expert systems were worn by the vast majority.

"Senator Suror was on High Mesa when an envoy from another civilization contacted us," said Senator Alicia Pryde. She was a senior member of the Expansionist Party. Suror was a bright young star in their party.

"I hope it went better than with our contact with the United Protectorates," said Montrose.

"Worse," replied Pryde. Pryde beamed a full copy of the conversation to the gathering. Headware implants and expert systems woven into clothing recieved and processed the data and included analysis and commentary. Augmented brains sorted through the data. Pryde continued speaking. The post humans were able to pay attention to both the data stream and his speach simultaneously.

"Worse in every possible way. The Protectorate reacted poorly to our augmentations, but they weren't belligerant. That was not the case with this elder. He attempted to hide his disgust, but his body language was clearly hostile. And he reacted extremely poorly to any female in authority. There was a layer of superficial politeness, but he didn't stay long. Their religiosity was even more blatant than that of the UP and much more disturbing. They are an out and out theocracy."

"Historically, religious piety is linked to anti-post human movements," inserted Consul Terrance N'goma. "And theocracies are corrupt and oppressive, without exception."

"So we may be looking at a war," said Montrose. "More than four hundred years of peace down the tube. What does the Senate say?"

"We aren't eager for war," said Damien Zeiss, a senior part of the Socialist leadership. "On the other hand, pretending this problem doesn't exist and spending more money expanding the university system won't make it go away. That doesn't mean I think we should dump a whole lot of money into the military at the moment. A moderate buildup and the deployment of a task force to show our strength should suffice at the moment."

Consul Klein nodded, not that he agreed. War was coming, if he read the situation correctly. No amount of production increase would make much difference in a short span of time, which was how much he thought they had. "We need to know more about these foreigners. We need to map their space, analyze their technology, catalogue their fleets and military strength. Survey scouts are trained for this work and are near the frontiers. We can start deployment within seventy two hours."

"It will be done," said Montrose. "I will order the redeployment of the Tempestua Group to High Mesa. Just in case these 'Select' get ideas."

"If I may suggest," said Klein, "transfer several brigades of troops to the frontier worlds to reinforce their defences."

Montrose nodded. "Alright," he said. "Anything else to discuss?" Silence answered him. "Then the Senate needs to wrangle through funding for an expanded military, as well as channelling more people doing their service into the military. A substantial increase. And quickly."

Exodus Point
Silver Falls System
Rim of the Realm of the Select

411 LF

Sky Marshal Donner watched as the last of his ships maneuvered into position. He had at his command Gideon, Michael, and Ali fleets. Seven Jericho class battleships, two Mecca class dreadnoughts, and three Jerusalem class supercarriers. Dozens of cruisers, mostly swift Angel class vessels or rail gun armed Valiants, backed up the capital ships. Swift Ranger class scouts and Templar class torpedo boots guarded the flanks and formed the vanguard of the fleet.

This would be the third war in the history of his nation. The brutal Schism War and the brief battle to subdue the world of Elysia had both ended with victories for the Select. They had also set the pattern for the way the Select thought of war. Crush the defences in space, bomb any military targets from orbit, and land an unending number of troops.

The ground groups would capture any production and technical facilities. All males were killed. All the women of marriagable age were captured (and almost inevitably gang raped, but the Select never talked about that) and most of them given to soldiers as wives. The use of nuclear and chemical weapons was kept to a minimum, so the valuable real estate would be captured relatively intact.

The ships of the Select hadn't changed much over the years. Their society was suspicious of science in all its forms. Fusion motors and hyperdrive FTL coils moved the ships through space. Layers of steel armour covering the hull added to jammers, point defence laser clusters, and shield generators (barely changed from the versions carried by the original colony ship) in guarding the ships from harm. Rail guns and missle launchers provided offensive punch. The ships were neither beautiful or sophisticated, but they got the job done.

"Add 30 minutes to the jump clock," said Donner. His voice was icy. "Inform Fleet General Syad that I am not pleased with his tardiness." He turned and walked from the flag bridge to his quarters. He took off his hat sat down and sighed.

The mirror over his desk showed the image of a grey haired, cleanshaven man who was developing the beginning of a paunch. He wore the blue-grey uniform of the Navy of the Sword of God. Donner had spent too much time around the Elders and in the field executing their will to believe in the True Faith. God was an excuse to indulge their desires and prejudices, as well as hold onto power with an iron fist.

And now another war, with the rape, slavery, and mass murder that would accompany it. He would fight it and he would win. The alternative was that his family and friends would be on the recieving end of the same.

And the war was inevitable. The big land holders controlled most of the good land. The population was continuing to grow and unrest was higher than it had been in a decade. Terraforming wouldn't provide new land fast enough. Internal pressures mandated this war, even if these Narsen hadn't been abominations according to holy scripture.

Scouts had identified a total of seven Narsen planets and there were probably more. Those seven alone would buy another century or two of stability. So be it. He would unleash horror on these Narsen. At least he would only see ships burn and die in space. He might not have to stomach to go through with this if he had to see soldiers dashing in the skulls of babies against walls.

Archer class cruiser Reliance
High orbit over High Mesa
Narsen Domain-Rim

411 LF

"Incoming fleets detected. Alert," said Jacob Milner's implant as it kicked his body into conciousness. Fleet Rank Milner bolted upright in bed and accessed the data feed. Hyperspace tracks were displayed and labelled. Over three hundred ships with approximately seventy-five of them being large vessels. His task force was outnumbered by about five to one.

He sealed up his grey ship tunic as he considered the situation on the way to the bridge. High Mesa's sole city of Sierra had a defence shield and there were planetary defence missle batteries. An adequate defence against raiders, but essentially symbolic arnament against this invasion fleet.

The picture didn't get much better in orbit. One battle sat and four weapon platforms weren't powerful enough to enable his task force to fight off that many ships. He accessed the com net and transmitted to the surface.

"Brigade Leader Doyle. An large enemy fleet is approaching. It has an approximate five to one numerical superiority. It is highly unlikely that we will be able to fend them off."

"Understood. My brigade is in the process of digging in near Sierra. Your tactics?"

"Hold for as long as possible. Gain data on their capabilities. Withdraw and join up with other task forces for further options."

"Sound," replied Doyle. "We will hold out for as long as possible."

"It is possible to evacuate your troops."

"We will not abandon your responsibilities. The people of this world will be defended and we will gain as much useful data about their capabilities as possible." There was a pause. "We would prefer to be relieved before we are annhilated though."

"I'll keep that in mind," replied Milner.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Emergence. Hundreds of Select ships flashed into being high over the elliptic. Exhaust flares blasted from fusion drives as the three fleet maneuvered into formation. A great crescent took form in space, Gideon and Michael Fleets forming the horns, Ranger scouts and Templar torpedo boats in the vanguard.

Hours ticked away as the ships closed. A variety of Narsen sensor arrays tracked them, sucking up and processing every piece of available information. Post humans and sophisticated computer programs analyzed the results, passing their findings along to their superiors.

Fleet Rank Milner sat in his acceleration couch while data leads connected to his wrists and brow interface ports. Orders and information were relayed and processed as inhuman speed. The enemy ships were accelerating using fairly basic fusion torches and their shields were far weaker than that of equivalent Narsen vessels. The edge in speed and defence seemed to be his, especially since the Select's computer system were, by all available indications, antique.

Lead elements of the enemy fleet was nearing the edge of his missle envelope. Task Force Tempustia Alpha was composed of sixty-eight vessels. Six Survey class scouts, twenty-one Sentinel class destroyers, fourteen Onager class missle boats, eight Retaliator class heavy destroyers, seven Vigilance class light cruisers, three Swarm class carriers, four Hammerclass missle cruisers, and eight Kalesh class heavy cruisers.

The enemy not only had a lot more ships, they possessed twelve ships that were vastly larger than anything the Narsen fielded, dwarfing even the Firedrake class battle cruisers. Whatever the enemy lacked in terms of technology, they were trying to make up for it in shear size and numbers.

The forward elements were inside his missle envelope. The enemy had declined to fire. It was probable their missles didn't have the range to engage effectively at this distance. Milner tagged the enemy Templar class torpedo boats as targets for his first missle wave. "Fire," he commanded.

Sierra
High Mesa
Narsen Domain-Rim

411 LF

"Governor," said Brigade Leader Doyle. "How is your evacuation proceeding?"

Marilyn deVega responded through her implant. "We'll get the priority cases out, brigade leader. Battalion Leader Harsk's troops are setting up, volunteers, militia, and police are assisting."

"Governor, these are enemy soldiers. They will be armoured and have at least a modicrum of training as well as firepower a civilian may not really comprehend."

"I am aware of my limitations brigade leader. Battalion Leader Harsk is in charge of their depositions. How familiar are you with High Mesa brigade leader?"

"I have read the briefing and have been on planet eight days."

"Then you don't know about our fauna. Base line humans cannot survive in the high pressure of the low lands. Some of the low land predators can survive up here. Living in a warm, high pressure, high oxygen enviroment has lead to certain evolutionary traits being common in a number of predatory species. They are fast, strong, and tough. You will find every civilian may not carry a gun, but they own one for the times when they have to leave Sierra. Usually a high velocity and large calibre weapon."

"Understood governor. Good luck."

"You will not join us under cover of the shield?"

"It's tempting, but we have theatre shielding and can do a large amount of damage to the enemy as they deploy if we remain mobile."

"Good luck brigade leader." She switched channels back to the evacuatio frequencies. She still had work to do.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mecca Class Dreadnought Mountain Meadows
High Mesa
Narsen Domain-Rim

"Incoming enemy missles!" came the shout from a defence station.

"On tac screens," Sky Marshal Donner ordered crisply. Clusters of red arrows were displayed heading towards his ship, at half again the speed of their fastest anti-ship missle. They were going to be a bitch to shoot down. And there was a lot of them. A timer marked the distance to the beginning of effective missle engagement range. Two minutes.

He watched the blips close. Another volley was launched on its heels. And then another. Point defence lasers lashed out as the missles evaded in seemingly random patterns. Even with battle computers on the capitals assisting in generating targeting solutions, some got through.

The Select Fleets managed to fire just before the first volley struck. Brilliant flashes illuminated space as nuclear blasts overloaded the shields of Templar class missle boats with a single hit. A follow up hit turned the ship to gutted wreck. More waves pressed forward, striking against a stressed defence network. More ships writhed in died in the short lived hells created by thermonuclear detonations.

Select missles seemd to crawl across the screen towards the Narsen. They began to vanish early. Narsen missle defences obviously had a longer effective engagement range. More fell. The second volley fired, as the first died.

Tac data was now on display. The Narsen missles were faster, had a longer effective engagment range, were harder to hit, and carried a heavy payload. Even without capships, they had a very effective counter missle system capable of engaging missles quite effectively at a longer range.

A long range missle duel at this fleet was a very bad idea. Fortunately, that stage of the battle would soon be over. "Full speed ahead," he ordered. His Templars might be dying, but every additional shot would count for more. Once he entered strike fighter range, things would be very different.

The second Select volley struck home. Three Narsen escorts flickered out. Donner smiled. Soon he would really make the bastards bleed.

Archer class cruiser Reliance
Near High Mesa
Narsen Domain-Rim

411 LF


Select ships burned as the fleets closed. Narsen ships and weapons platforms killed ship after ship. The Select escort screen and torpedo boats were torn up and shredded. The slower, easier to hit Select missles, were picked off by point defence systems and beam turrets. The surviving missles detonated their comparitively light payloads on much stronger Narsen shields.

Still, the sheer number and size of the Select task force won out over all disadvantages it faced going up against Narsen tech. The number and power of the ships was too great. Fleet Rank Milner checked the data net. The enemy was closing towards fighter range and the sheer number of missles was mattering more and more as the ranged closed. They had bled the enemy and gathered valuable data. There was nothing more they could do here. "Signal the retreat," he ordered.

Drives went to full power as the Narsen fleet began accelerating away from the Select ships. The weapons platforms and the battle satellite recieved new orders and switched targets. The next volleys of missles targeted one of the Jerusalem class supercarriers, the Tyre. Flights of missles blazed through space towards their new target.

The decreasing range and ravaged escort screen meant that even this reduced volley penetrated. Two hits hammered the shields on the supercarrier as more followed in their wake. A half dozen more Narsen missles detonated around it half a minute latter, pushing the shields into overload. The last of the weapon platforms died, leaving the battle satellite alone in the void as the third volley struck the Tyre. Shield's failed in a blast of light and energy. A nuke strike fried the port side, burning electronics, igniting fuel, and turning its launch bays into a radiation hell. The Tyre limped on as the heavily armoured and shielded battle sat was blasted into vapour.

The Select fleet stalked into high orbit over High Mesa. The planets thick atmosphere and cloud cover made observation difficult. The ships most suited for low level observation/bombardment runs were the light craft that had taken such a beating at Narsen hands. They were also the ones least able to deal with theatre shields or survive a planetary defence counter strike. There were, however, other options.

Strike fighters were launched for low altitude survielance passes. They descended through the thick atmosphere to scout the huge plateau where the Narsen had settled. A simple road system connected farms and ranches spread over the more open and easily utilized areas of the plateau. There were a few small towns and one large city, Sierra. Strike fighters nearing there blasted apart in moments by air defence laser batteries. Several seeker missles were launched and three more Select craft were blown apart in mid-air. Reconaissance was not without risk.

Dropships and defence gunships were launched from the capital ships and the larger cruisers. Strike fighters flew cover as the Sword of God headed for a drop point one hundred kilometers south of the Sierra. Swarms of missles rose up to great them and drone figthers were right behind them.

The vacuum jockies reflexes weren't attuned to thick atmosphere and their craft weren't very aerodynamic. The drones were programmed for this enviroment and their propulsion systems modified for superior performance. Their reflexes were faster and they could endure far higher physical stresses than mere baseline humans. Fighters and gunships burned as the first missle strikes sent them tumbling down to the ground. Lightning fast Narsen drones began to fire the missles on their external hardpoints and then deployed the weapons from their interior stores. Half a division was dead before it touched the ground.

100km South of Sierra
High Mesa
Narsen Domain-Rim

411 LF

Seeker missles skimmed over the ground, evading obstacles and Select anti-missle flechette bursts and las beams. Even so, two of the four were torn apart before they closed on the swarm of dropships landing in the tall grass. Their onboard expert systems processed data, realized they had reached acceptable detonation points, and destroyed themselves in a bursts of intolerable brightness. Shockwaves tore through the northern perimeter of the Select forces as two eight kiloton nuclear blasts went off. Mushroom clouds began to climb into the sky.

"By holy God, I need more air cover!" screamed Marshal O'Reilly. "The Satan spawn just nuked my forward positions! Between that and the fucking drop I'm down a fucking division and I haven't even started attacking the fucking enemy! So shut the fuck up and get me some more God-damn support!"

He slammed down the reciever and whirled around in his command center. "Status?"

"We've got the theatre shield up sir," said Colonel Mason. The theatre shield was essential four drop ships with big fusion reactors and shield generators. "The center of our staging area should be protected from any further such attacks."

"But our advance won't be," said O'Reilly. "We already know these fuckers are going to be tougher than those motherfucking pagan pussies. Updates on the nuke damage?"

"It was worse than expected sir. We've got good rad protection, but the thicker atmosphere means a thicker medium for the shockwave to travel through. The one-sixteen is still sorting through its loses."

"Fuck. Alright. Get the generals on the horn. I've got a spearhead to fucking organize since the first one just went up in smoke. The enemy still in position?"

"As best as we can tell sir. Thick atmo, thick cloud cover, and lots of missles and lasers picking off anything that has a chance to get a peek at them."

"Fuck it. We know there can't be too many of them. They can hurt us with their fancy tricks, but in the end we'll just fucking roll over them."

---------------------------------------------------------------

Smith Farm
125km North of Sierra
High Mesa
Narsen Domain-Rim


Major James Norris struggled with the straps of his parachute. His recon flight had been travelling hot and heavy north of Sierra, finding the lay of the land and looking for targets to hammer with high explosive. Targets had found them first. His Cherubim strike fighter had its engine burned out by a Narsen laser pulse. He had managed to pull his fighter out of a destructive spin, but keeping the wounded bitch in the air had been impossible. So he had bailed out. Because he had been in the glue, and if any atmo deserved to be called glue this was it, his chute had opened. And that lead to him hanging upside down from the branches of an olive tree, three meters above the ground, tangled up in his own chute straps.

His knife was almost in reach. He heard movement. He craned his neck and looked around. A girl wearing boots, blue pants, a white shirt, and red leather jacket was looking up at him. She was easily of marriagable age, mid to late teens, with red hair, green eyes, and golden skin. A very big rifle was thrown over her shoulder. She was walking towards him and she was pretty damn tall. He fumbled for his sidearm.

She blured forward and leapt. It was almost faster than he could see. Vise like hands clamped onto arms, almost dislocating them. Merciful Prohets, she was fucking heavy. She held onto his right arm and disarmed him with her left. She tossed his gun, grabbed his knife and slit the chute straps. He landed akwardly on the ground. He got up, rubbing his shoulders. She was smiling back him as she put his gun into her belt and tossed the knife. "You're my prisoner short stack," she said smiling.

Norris's cheeks burned. The girl was maybe one ninety cm which did top his one eighty-four, but to be spoken to with such disrespect by a woman was more than he could take. There was maybe two meters seperating them. He lunged.

Her fist smashed into his sternum almost before he realized she was swinging and she swept his legs out from under him. He hit the dirt gasping. Then she she kickd in the ribs, cracking a couple and knocking him a meter back. "That was amazingly stupid short stack. Wanna try that again? I don't have all day to spend beating the shit out of you."

He gasped and got up. "Get moving towards the house behind you," she said.

"And if I don't bitch? What are you going to do? I don't think you have the stomach to shoot an unarmed man."

"One, the name is Casey. I hear 'bitch' again, or any similar word that displeases me, and its going to cost you a broken bone. Second, you are going to march your ass over there and be a cooperative and docile prisoner because if you don't, that means I have to carry your base line ass over there. And in order to do that, I'm going to break both your arms so you won't be able to make much trouble. In multiple places, because I'm that kind of girl. Your choice short stack."

Norris started walking.

90km South of Sierra
High Mesa
Narsen Domain-Rim

411 LF

Brigadier General Cadiz surveyed the carnage before him. The Narsen had made a big push hard on the heels of their nuclear strike. Anti-air lasers and missles had whittled down Select counter battery fire while the Narsen had managed to slip through missles and shells with powerful plasma charges. The Narsen had slaughtered everything that flew in front of their mobile theater shields, allowing their tanks and ground troops to engage with a minimal threat from artillery and missles.

That had been a blood bath. The Narsen heavy tanks used some kind of repulser lift tech that allowed them to travel damn fast while carrying an ungodly amount of armour. Two were burning in front of him, knocked out by flank hits with 130mm railguns from the field of wrecked Select armour. The hellish plasma weapon that the Narsen tanks mounted was horrifically destructive.

It wasn't the only problem. The damn tanks shredded or shrugged off most Select anti-armour missles, but the Narsen ones were damned lethal. Their infantry had fired started killing with rifles at ranges where his men could barely see them, let alone penetrate their armour. The Satanspawn could shoot and not even armoured transports were safe from the beam rifles some of them carried.

"Move up," he ordered and dropped down into the interior of the tank. There were badlands off to the northwest. He didn't even want to think about the effective range of a Narsen sniper with a beam rifle. The Narsen had already held up the advance of his column by about a day and they were going slow. The Satanspawn had left a few nasty surprises and waiting for scouts to report back was the only sensible recourse. Although the casualties among the scouts due to Narsen skirmishers had mounted to the point where morale was an issue. He didn't like doing things that way, but it was better than driving his tanks over a plasma charge or a backpack nuke.


----------------------------------------------------

Sierra

"How much longer do we have?" Governor deVega asked Battalion Leader Harsk.

"Another day or two. No more," responded the military man from the link. "Then my people will have to pull back to avoid being encircled. Your evacuation status?"

"Everyone nonessential is moving. The reserve weapons have been distributed and personel recalled to active duty. The police have their heavy weapons out. But there are some people who can't be moved. The critical wards at the hospital."

"With respect governor, although many of the police and all of the reserve have military training, this is a planetary invasion force we are talking about here. An invasion force of well armed religious fanatics who have brought the heavy iron. You can bleed them in the streets, but you can't hold the city. Evacuate everyone you can."

"Some of the hospital staff won't leave the critical. Or the prematures."

"I would advise moving everyone that could concievably survive the trip. Brigade Leader Doyle has been drowning them in sea of their own blood. They are going to be pissed. We also have taken several enemy pilots as prisoners. It didn't take a good hit of phermones or tongue loosening drugs for them to say some very discouraging things. They regard us as sub human abominations governor. They believe they have a divine liscene to rape and kill us. It is unlikely that they will show mercy to noncombatants, even if they are medical personel or critically ill patients. Get them out."

"Thank you battalion leader. I will adjust my plans as necessary."

"I strongly advise you to do so."

She switched channels. "Supervisor Payne?"

"Yes governor?"

"Have your men finishing setting charges to blow the heavy industry and then rig the reactor."

"Yes ma'am."

de Vega looked out over the shining towers of Sierra. Her oath as governor had been to nuture and protect the people and the city. Now she would oversee its destruction. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she watched the smoke clouds on the horizon.

The Zone
40km South of Sierra
High Mesa
Narsen Domain-Rim

411 LF

Jack Irivan clutched his rifle. He was the last survivor of his squad and one of the seven members of his company still on the line. The Narsen had torn through his bros, killing with lightning fast speed. The Narsen gauss guns tore through armour and produced horrific wounds and the bastards could fire them accurately and swiftly from long range and could even hit shit while firing on the run.

They were fucking hard targets and too make it worse, the Satanspawn wore good armour and didn't die easy. If you hit them enough times, their armour would fail and then your shots would count. If you got lucky, you could punch through a weak point. Not that would necessarily kill them. The Narsen didn't bleed much, didn't seem to go into shock, and for all he knew were packing extra organs. You shot them 'til they dropped and you then you put a few more rounds into the body. If you could hit. If they didn't kill you first. His left hand shook.

"Hey Jackie." Jack turned to see Frankie Whaller. He was dressed in standard Select infantry armour of visored helmet and breast and back plate over thick armour cloth. "How ya doing?"

Jack nodded to his childhood friend. "Okay. Hot as fuck here."

"Yeah," said Frankie. He pulled out a string of cool tablets. "Need any of this?"

Jack shook his head. Cool was illegal, but rampant. "No thanks."

"Heard you had a close encounter with the Satanspawn."

"Yeah," said Jack. "It was bad shit. He must have been out of ammo or his gun jammed or some shit like that. Didn't try to pull a fade with his buddies. He just rushed us."

"Pistol?"

"No. Maybe he lost it. His armour was beaten up, maybe an arty near hit. The chameleon shit wasn't working anyway. So he rushes us and I swear despite that full body clamshell they wear, he was fucking faster than a race horse."

"I believe you buddy. Ever picked up a piece? Doesn't weigh nothing."

"We open up on the fucker, but he's moving fast and he's fucking on top of us before we do more than hit him a couple times. Maybe crack the chest plate. He's packing one of those fucking knives."

"The 50cm ones?"

"Yeah. Goes through armour and bone like it was nothing. He's a fucking blur and we're hitting each other. And it isn't just the knife. He's lashing out with every fucking part of his body and he's breaking bones each time. Top unloads, point blank range. Bloodspray. Fucker decaps top, crushed Haren's throat, and kicks Chuckie in the nuts so hard his pelvis brakes. Not so sure about the order. Then he keels over. I burn half a clip into his chest. Salem pops the helmet to take a trophy and fuck, its a woman. With red skin. Like the fucking devil sent one of his daughters to fucking kill us."

"Got good news on that front Jackie."

"Really?"

"The sweeper units have caught a few women. They're nasty, but we've taken precautions. Hamstringing, bone breaking, handcuffs, all that fucking shit. Normally they would neck them, but with the lack they decided to keep them around."

"The officers?"

"They know. Fuck, the guy who set it up is a colonel. They just don't talk about it."

"Fuck. How come I didn't know about it?"

"Because it's just started moron."

"I'm game," said Jack. "Let's go let these bitches know what their place is before they die."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sierra

"Doctor," repeated Senior Troop Leader Adia Vryce, "we need to evac your people and the rest of your patients now. We have at most another day before they are in the city and insufficient forces for more than a rearguard holding action.

The middle aged man turned back to the soldier in the black plate armour in stark contrast to the white hospital walls. "We have patients that aren't safe to move. Most of them will die if we do so."

"Doctor, preliminary interrogations of captured Select soldiers indicates they intend genocide. They only thing restraining them is that they need the planet intact. They won't blow up the hospital, because it will be of use to their wounded. Instead they will shoot there way in, kill everything male, rape anything female that survives the attack, and then kill all the survivors. The main difference from the way they have conducted their other wars is that they won't be taking women to be slave wives. Personally, I'm going to go out fighting."

"Alright," said Carendon. "We'll begin prepping the remaining patients for transport.

Mecca class dreadnought Mecca
High Orbit
Realm of the Select Occupied Territory

411 LF

Sky Marshal Donner leaned back into his chair and pulled the mike closer. Even on Mecca, space was a luxury that even Sky Marshal only had so much of. His office was cramped, containing little beyond his desk, chair, coat rack, and computer system. rubbed his temples.

"The last ground based missle silo was overrun by our men three days ago," he began. "Only their mobile batteries remain in operation. Enemy ground based missles accounted for two destroyers and one cruiser, resulting in a general halt in orbital support actions. The ban continues, as the risk is not worth the potential gain, in my opinion. Enemy troops have retreated off the plateau and into the lowlands, along with most of the remaining civilian population."

He paused to take a sip of water before continuing. "Our loses have been heavy. Approximately two divisions destroyed in action against the enemy, with five to ten percent casualties being the norm in other units. Guerrilla activity, although in decline, continues to be an annoyance. All major strategic points on the main plateau are now secure."

"I recommend against pursuing the enemy to the lowlands. The enviroment is in the red line for both heat and pressure reasons. Furthermore, most of the lowlands are shielded by a heavy cloud layer, the thickness of the atmosphere, and heavy jungle canopy which limit the usefulness of air and orbital assets. Casualties would be heavy even without enemy action. Recommend securing the sides of the plateau against guerrilla attacks and letting attrition through maintenance failure and lack of supply wear down their ability to make war." He broke for another sip.

"Fleet transports have arrived. Eleven new escort vessels have been deployed to make up for loses and repair tenders are working on our most heavily damaged vessels. The new stocks of material and personel replacements signifigantly improve this fleets ability to conduct wartime operations.

"The deployment of the first part of sattelite defence network is also a positive step. Although it consists of merely a dozen missle platforms at present, it bolsters our presence in the system. The establishment of fueling facility around the gas giant is also a positive step.

"As for planet side facilities, the Narsen succeeded in destroying many of them, but some of them may be salvaged. Additionally, their scortched earth campaign was only moderately successful, despite the dryness and high atmospheric pressure."

"Currently we have succeeded in our goal of capturing the planet of High Mesa intact. Casualties have been heavier than anticipated, but bearable. Development of this system as a forward base for the Sword of God is proceeding at an acceptable pace. Furthermore, samples of enemy technology and weaponry have been captured and are being sent to the Technical Section for analysis.

"Lastly, I must touch on the other prongs of our offensive. Two days ago, Sky Marshal Vines assaulted Loren's World with Ezekial, Joseph, and John Fleets. Enemy fleet strength was approximately equal to that present at High Mesa, but system defences were signifigantly heavier and so were casualties. The planet also seems to possess a larger population and military forces. It is my recommendation that Sky Marshal Vines subject his fleet to a minimal amount of ground fire. We cannot offord heavy fleet casualties if we wish to maintain the offensive and the enemy ground defences are formidable. Strike craft sorties should make up the majority of our ground actions, until enemy defence sites are reduced.

"Sky Marshal Adar will hit the system known as Fairhaven in two days with Methuselah, Job, and Mark Fleets. The possibility that survivors from the enemy's forces at High Mesa reached their and rendez-voused with with the local defenders cannot be discounted. We must have faith that God will deliver his victory to his servants and the might of the Sword of God's capital vessels will overcome technological tricks of the spawn of Satan."

Emergence Point
Fairhaven System
Narsen Domain-Rim

411 LF

Emergence pulse, a blast of light that would blind unprotected eyes. Nearly three hundred Select ships return to the universe. Com systems start broadcasting as telemetary and status data is exchanged, and then reaction drives are fired as the Select ships begin to assemble themselves into fleet formation.

On the flag bridge of the Jericho class Battleship The Law Upheld, Sky Marshal Mohammed Adar watched as Methuselah, Job, and Mark Fleets manuevered into position. He had a quarter of the Sword of God's warships under his command. This was a moment his whole carrier had been building too.

More than two hundred scouts, frigates, and destroyers guarded the flanks of his fleet and probed ahead. Fifty-four cruisers formed the fighting mainstay of his fleet, mostly Angel class light cruisers and Valiant class gun carriers, but other designs such as the Apostle class armoured cruiser and the Faithful class carriers were represented. Finally, he had the heart of his fleet, the capital ships. Three Jerusalam class super carriers, the largest vessels in the navy. Seven Jericho class battleships bulked up the gun line with heavy railgun batteries and clusters of missle tubes.

Most Sky Marshals would have placed their flag on one of the Jerusalems, but like his mentor Sky Marshal Donner, Adar was old school. Missles and strike fighters started an engagement, wore down and weakened the enemy, but it was the guns that finished it. However fancy the Narsen missle batteries were, they weren't going to win this battle.

Adar would have been surprised to learn that his opposite number was thinking the same thing.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Fairhaven High Orbit
Task Force Repulse
Firedrake class battlecruiser Anacalagon


Fleet Rank Lydia Cain acknowledged Vessel First Rank Hallstrom's approach. "Fleet Rank," he said, "Tempestia Alpha is falling back to the planet. They report two hundred and eighty one enemy vessels in the outer system."

"Thank you, First Rank. Status?"

"The Anacalagon stands ready. As does the rest of the task force, Fleet Rank."

"Good. See to your vessel First Rank." She sent commands through the data net that connected to the implants on her temple and wrists for a course that would combine the two task forces into one unit. Reaction drives fired as ships began to maneuver into position.

The combined formation, Fairhaven Fleet, was one hundred and forty two ships strong. It included the survivors of Tempestia Alpha and the all of Task Force Repulse. Most of the ships were lighter vessels, Onager missle frigates or Retaliator heavy destroyers with some scouts and Sentinel class destroyers thrown in. Providing the back bone of the fleet were twenty Kalesh class heavy cruisers backed by ten Hammer missles cruisers. Four Swarm class carriers and ten Vigilance class light cruisers provided additional support.

Forty four Narsen cruisers were a potent force, but if they were the Fleet's cruel fangs, then five ships were its firey breath. Five Firedrake class battlecruisers, outmassing even the Kalesh's by more than two to one, sat at its heart. The shared the same tappered dagger like tappered cylinder design with the rest of the Narsen cruisers, but they were different. Not only did the mount powerful shields to guard their armoured hulls and batteries of lethal laser cannons and clusters of missle tubes, but they had a new weapon mounted along their spines. A massive railgun that fired a slug containing hydrogen ice. Impact on shield or armour would result in fusion. The Select would learn to fear the dragon's breath.

Cain sent a message to the orbital defence systems. A space station that mostly served as a naval resupply and commerce hub formed the command part of a network of twenty five weapon platforms and four battle sattelites. "Enemy in bound. Stand by to engage." The Narsen tac net sprang into being, linking Fairhaven Fleet and the orbital defence network. The only thing that was missing was the enemy and they were on their way.

Fairhaven System
Narsen Domain

411 LF

The Select fleet closed on Fairhaven, arrayed for battle in the form of a giant cone. Templar class torpedo boats and Seraphim gun boats lead the fleet, forming the base of the cone. Behind them came the cruisers, behind the defensive screen of the lighter craft. At the rear, the point of the cone, trailed the capital ships, the Jericho class battleships and the Jerusalem super carriers.

Before them awaited Fairhaven Fleet. The Narsen ships were arrayed in a sphere and connected to the tac net of the orbital defence systems. The armoured battle satellites were well equiped with command and control systems, but the heart of the defence network was the Fairport Station. The space station was well shielded, but only lightly armed. Its biggest contribution was in its cavernous bays and storage spaces and sopisticated computer and communication networks.

The leading edge of the Select fleet entered the edge of the Narsen missle envelope. Swarms of missles leapt from launchers and the Select burned forward. Most of the Narsen missles died, slain by laser beams or clouds of hyper velocity shrapnel. A few slipped through and pushed the shields of several torpedo boats to near overload levels.

The second wave followed quickly on the heels of the first. More of them survived as many of the Select anti-missle systems had been occupied with killing the first wave. Three Templars vanished in flashes of light and soundless explosions. Missles began to fly from the Select vessels towards the Narsen ships.

The Select missles tended to be larger and slower and the Narsen sensor and targetting systems were far superior. Lasers began to kill the missle swarm seconds after launch. Narsen launchers rapidly cycled out new salvos of ship killing missles. More Select ships began to die as the Narsen weathered the first Select volley without taking a hit. More missles were already closing in their wake. The Narsen would begin to pay the butcher's bill.

-------------------------------------------------------------
High Orbit
Loren's World
Narsen Domain-Rim

411 LF

Sky Marshal Elias Vines watched as squadrons of strike craft preceeded the gunships and waves of dropships down to Loren's World. The summary of the assault on High Mesa was just the touch of a button away and had informed his attack plan. Now it remained to be seen if he had understood them.

Loren's World had been colonized for a longer time than High Mesa and boasted several major cities as well as several outposts throughout the system that were now being hunted down and neutralized by part of the fleet. With luck, several of the facilities might even be captured mostly intact, but they were small fry in the grand scheme of things. His fleets had bled securing this space and driving off the Narsen. It was up to him to make it worth it.

No ships were deployed to support the landings because he couldn't afford to lose them. Loren's World most likely possessed a larger defence force than the one that had wrecked two destroyers and a cruiser over High Mesa. The high command of the Sword of God was adamant about avoiding unnecessary ship losses. So it was up to the ground pounders and the fly boys to take the planet.

Blips appeared and vanished on the screen. Narsen drone craft and anti-air defences were going to work. On High Sierra, a reinforced brigade had destroyed two divisions of the Sword of God before being forced to retreat. It was going to get really ugly down there really fast.

High Planes-Sword of God LZ
Loren's World
Narsen Domain-Rim

411 LF

High energy lasers burned ionization tracks through the atmosphere as they probed the sky, burning down Select fighters and missles. Missle volleys left hundred of contrails in the air as Narsen missles leapt from vehicle mounted launchers and blew open Select gunships, dropships, and fighters. Intercepter configured fighter drones sped through the air, disgorging the payloads of their weapon pods as they found suitable targets while dodging and jinking to avoid enemy counter fire.

Smoke rose from the remnains of crashed flyers that dotted the fields. The Narsen farmers were evacuating their homes as the Select invaders descended right on top of them. Battlemaster Chen checked the data on his repeater screens one last time and gave the order. "We've given them as much time as we can. Nulcear authorization is granted."

There was a narrow window when nuclear weapons were highly effective against a landing force. Atmospheric air burst could catch several targets, but were most effective after the enemy had started landing and was bunched up on the ground but before effective ground defences and theatre shields had been deployed. The Narsen couldn't wait any longer for their civilians to get clear. The few that believed in gods uttered prayers for them under their breath as low flying drones and seeker missles with nuclear warheads were unleashed.

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Fairhaven
Narsen Domain-Rim

Sky Marshal Adar watched as the first Narsen ship winked off the screens. The first kill. He had lost fifteen vessels, mostly Templars, but the one sided butcher's bill would change. Multiple Narsen vessels had taken hits and the next volley would produce more kills. The faithful would triumph.

As the Narsen fired another missle swarm, and by God the Satanspawn had fast reloaders, a warning light flashed. They were nearing the edge of the Narsen's fighter envelope. "Stand by to launch interceptors," he commanded. Battle reports indicated Narsen didn't use very many fighters, although their drone craft were quite effective. His attack craft would be in range soon and then the balance would shift.

Two more Templars flashed out of existence as the Narsen missles struck home. The shields on a Valiant went to critical as threel Narsen missles pushed its shields near overload. Adar opened his mouth to give an order when a shout came from a sensor operator. "Narsen attack craft launch!"

Adar's gaze swept over to the relevant screen. Mothers of the Prophets! Drones were streaming out of several Narsen carriers, but that was nothing compared to the horde spilling out of the space station. Fairpoint Station's docking bays disgorged seemingly endless swarms of drone fighters.

Interceptor configured drones took the lead to engage any small craft and capital missles while screening the attack drones with their clusters of nuclear ordinance. Adar felt his blood go cold. He had anticipated having a decisive strike craft advantage and that clearly wasn't the case. The Narsen were going to bleed his ships all the way to the gun line.

So be it. The Narsen had nothing bigger than large cruisers. The railguns of his battleships and cruisers would bring down their shields and shatter their ships. The only thing those drones changed would be the size of his butcher's bill, not the outcome of the battle. The Satanspawn would still fall.

High Planes-Sword of God LZ
Loren's World
Narsen Domain-Rim

411 LF

Mushroom clouds climbed into the sky as Narsen heavy Manticore tanks glided forward on repulser lifts. The fusion powered tanks had weathered the shock waves and radiation burst for the low kiloton weapons. Select dropships and strike fighters had been blasted from the sky. Nuke started wildfires and shattered Select ships were scattered all over the fields.

Narsen missles and lasers continued to streak across the sky, targeting Select craft and blasting them from the sky. Several Select craft had survived to make it to the ground after the Narsen nuke strike and Select soldiers were trying to form a defensive perimeter.

Flashes of blinding blue-white light came from the muzzels of fusion plant fed blast cannons. Select troops and landing craft vanished in balls of plasma and flying chunks of metal under the flail of the Narsen tanks. Turret and hull mounted lasers tore Select missles to pieces. Two antimissle proximity defences triggered and sent a hail of explosively launched steel ball bearings into oncoming missles, shredding them into c. The tanks serenely raised their blast cannons to the descending Narsen craft and began to blow them from the sky.

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Fairhaven
Narsen Domain-Rim

Drone interceptors unleashed missles at Sword of God strike craft and missles. Explosions filled space as they dashed ahead, killing and dying by missle, hyper velocity slugs, and laser pulse. Most of them died, but they accomplished their missions. The ruins of shattered Select strike craft drifted through space as the attacker units closed for the kill.

They had suffered their own casualties, but the agile drones were still numerous enough to kill. They darted towards the blocky, rectangular Select ships and unleashed the short range missles attached to the four hardpoint panels that projected from their tubular bodies.

New missle swarms were born, expanding sprays of thermonuclear carrying death. The drone's targets was not the shattered screen of frigates and destroyers, but the Valiant class gun cruisers behind it. Point defence lasers and rail stopped some of the missles, but many got through.

Brilliant flashes illuminated space as nuclear strikes bloomed against Select shields. Multiple strikes pushed the cruisers' shields to critical levels and follow up strikes blasted the ships into seared hulks.

Fleet Rank Cain smiled grimly as the Select ships fell. The Select strike craft had mostly been wrecked before they could engage her ships and the decimation of the Select's escort screen had reduced both their missle launch capacity, but their defensive abilities as well. The Valiants her drones were targeting had a few missle tubes and decent magazine space, but it was heavy railgun turrets that served as their main arnament. It was also the reason the drones had targeted them. Four Valiants had been destroyed by her drone attack craft. She wondered if the Select fleet com had figured out what was going to happen next.

"Sentinels and Retaliators are to finish enemy escorts. Kalesh and Firedrakes to engage enemy battleships. All other weapons are to concentrate on enemy cruisers. EVA Marines are to stand by for deployment."

The Anacalagon's heavy laser batteries locked on the head enemy battleship. The other Firedrakes followed suit as the Kalesh's targeted the next battleship. Laser beams, invisible in the vacuum of space, struck the Select shields with blinding flashes of discharged energy. The shields on the boxy Select capital ships collpsed under the combined volleys. The next hits sliced through the heavily armoured hulls and gutted the ships, opening up great rents which bled atmo and blazing fuel into space. Select railguns were tracking Narsen targets, who were just at the edge of the gun's useful combat range. It wouldn't be long before they fired. At this range there was no turning back.

High Orbit
Loren's World
Select Occupied Territories

411 LF

"Enough!" said Sky Marshal Vynes. "Cancel the assault. Redirect all vessels back to the carriers."

"Sky Marshal, with respect, if we backed up the attack with direct fire from our warships-" began General Sidell.

"We will loose ships to the enemy's ground defence systems!" Vynes snarled. "This planet has three major cities, two of them larger than Sierra and in all likely hood it has a much more extensive defence network. It sure as hell as more enemy brigades, because they've been chewing up every unit we've sent down there! How many destroyers and cruisers do you think we have to spare? Our missle stocks are low as it is and our strike craft complement has been completely decimated. As is, we are vulnerable to a Narsen strike force. I won't throw away good ships trying to save dead men."

"So we abandon them sir?" Sidell asked angrily.

"They are already dead, general. We will rearm, requip and reinvade with overwhelming force while they have lost men and equipment that will be difficult to replace. The Sword of God can afford to lose one hundred thousand men. I doubt the enemy can say the same."

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High Orbit
Fairhaven
Narsen Domain-Rim

411 LF

Select cruisers burned as missles and lasers flashed into shields and shredded hulls at close range. The survivors in Select escort screen burned and died under the Narsen hammer. But the Select were not yet finished.

On the decks of Select cruisers and battleships, massive turrets tracked their targets. Final calculatins were processed by battle computers. The Select ships shuddered with the force of the recoil. Nearly half of the slugs hit. At the velocity they were travelling, almost all of their kinetic energy was transformed into heat when they impacted on the shields of the Kalesh class Intrepid and the Firedrake class Smaug.

Intrepid had managed to avoid being hurt early on in the battle. Nine railgun impacts pushed the shields more than half way to max capacity. Smaug faired less well. The Firedrake had taken several hits already and took the lion's share of the surviving battleship's fire. Her shields went past critical and collapsed. Two rail gun impacts breached her armour and blasted huge holes in her port side.

The other four Firedrakes unleashed the dragon's breath. Massive spinal mounted railguns fired their payloads at the battleship Krak de Chevailler. Three hit. Massive amounts of kinetic energy was transfered to the battleships shields and then the payloads of the shells detonated in tremendous fusion blasts. The front third of the ship vanished in a nuclear fireball.

Smaug didn't survive the next volley. Neither did Intrepid. In the mean time Narsen laser batteries had gutted another two battleships, three cruisers, and half a dozen surviving escorts. Several Select captains read the writing on the wall and made full power boosts on evasion courses. A few of them might make it.

The Narsen ships broke through the remnants of the Select line. Railguns slugs converged on the Lofwyr, overloading the Firedrake's shields. The last Select battleships died in a hail of laser beams and starcannon slugs.

The Anacalagon closed with a survivng enemy super carrier. The Achen's shields failed in a blaze of laser impacts. Additional strikes tore apart the the ships portside weapon batteries. "Launch boarding pods," ordered Vessel First Rank Hallstrom.

A dozen short range capsuls blastered away from the Narsen battlecruiser. They were heavily armoured and equipped with powerful engines, although only a limited fuel supply. They launched a flury of decoys and jammers as the closed with the Select super carrier. One of the pods was torn open by a surviving gun battery and another took a minor hit from a point defence gatling. Eleven pods attached themselves to the Achen's hull and began cutting.

This is way cool. I'm chearing on the bording parties

Jerusalem class Super Carrier Achen
Fairhaven Space
Narsen Domain-Rim

411 LF

Shaped plasma charges blasted through the Achen's modest hull armour with ease. Of the eleven boarding pods, six were in areas where security hadn't managed to be deployed in any way before they breached hull. Narsen EVA Marines, bulked up in black power armour and carrying deadly beam rifles, stormed into the ship. Each pod carried a four marine team.

Power armour can do marvellous things, but it is not without its limitations. Computing technology, power storage, motive systems, material composition and so on and so forth are merely part of it. The most critical component is the wearer. The wearer must be able to handle the stress that the armour places on his or her body while operating and must be able to manage the armour's advanced systems. Superhuman running speed is useless if the wearer's bones snap while running.

Narsen EVA Marines were among the best trained individuals in the Domain's military. They had top of the line genetic alterations and enhancement and most potent biological and cybernetic modifications Narsen science could devise. They were trained extensively to use their armour under every imaginable condition and drilled together so their teams would be the perfect fighting machines.

Air gushed out of the breach holes as the Marines stormed in at thirty miles per hour. Suit mounted launches fired grenades which filled the area in front of them with a hail of hyper velocity glass rods, harmless to the Marines but lethal to lightly armoured flesh. The marines followed up in moments, burning down anyone they saw with heavy beam rifles.

In all but one place that was enough to slaughter any initial resistance. Bad luck struck Team Seven. Their pod landed barely twenty meters from the Achen's main security station. As a consequence, vac armoured security personel were nearby to resist.

The intial blast alerted them to the rough position of Team Four's entry. The flechette bombs serious wounded two men, but mostly scarred the armour of the others. Petty Officer Michael Clarke bounced a grenade around the corner and raised his gun as he moved into position to peak around the corner.

The Sword of God was familiar with power armour, although it was rare among their forces. They were also experienced in boarding actions and were quite familiar with the fact that heavy armour was the norm. Naval Security recieved some of the heaviest armour the Select had, and weapons to defeat said armour. Clarke's gun fired 6mm caseless tungsten-carbide sabot rounds at a very high velocity and ferocious rate from the top barrel. The underbarrel launcher fired 40mm shaped charges for blasting through powered armour.

Clarke never got to see how well his weapon performed against Narsen equipment. The EVA Marine shot around the corner and blasted him with the enormous rifle he held in his hands. Their was a flash of intense light and the beam blasted through Clarke's breastplate and his torso exploded. Red mist and chunks of gore splattered the corridor.

The marine shot the second naval trooper before he could react either. The beam blew his skull apart. Bits of grey matter and skull struck armour and corridor walls. Several armour piercing rounds failed to penetrate Narsen armour. Another marine was in the corridor and first marine was in close quarters.

The United Protectorates, with generations of experience in close quarter fighting, issued powered vibro blades for close combat. The Narsen had no such tradition and thought of powered cutting blades as repair or rescue tools. If they had been fighting crack United Protectorate marines in powered armour, that lack would have cost them.

The lead marine punch through the visor of the closest Select trooper and crushed his skull. A lightning quick strike broke the next one's neck. The marine was signaling to the rest of his team as he moved. His comrade shot another Select soldier in the shoulder, which blew his entire upper right torso apart. The last one shot the lead marine with the grenade launcher.

Narsen powered armour provided the heaviest protection to the torso. The mulitlayered includes several ablative layers near the surface designed to absorb the blast of a shaped charge. The marine staggered back under the impact, but did not fall. His beam rifle fired and blew the Select soldier into a red haze and two seperate pieces.

Group Leader Eisen sent a tight burst signal. "Hector fall back. Vlad take point. Prisoners for interrogations purposes only." The Narsen were not inclined to show much mercy.

The rest of the fighting was easy. Narsen naval uniforms included seals and automitically deploying hoods to work as temporary vacuum suits in emergency. The Select that technology, along with the weapons to effectively resist the EVA Marines. Sealed bulkheads slowed them down, but blasting charges and cutting implements made it only a momentary delay. They slaughtered their way to the bridge and the engines with only three marines being rendered unfit for further combat.

Half the senior officers in futile last stands. The rest surrendered or were incapacitated by stunners. The marines held the vital positions and waited for the search and destroy teams to finish their jobs.

The High Tabernacle
New Eden
The Realm of God's Select

411 LF

The grey uniformed man walked past the visored Heaven's Sheppard's security troopers into the chamber full of bearded old men. Sky Marshal Collins tried to restrain an heretic thoughts as the prepared to address the Elders. He stopped at the edge of the horseshoe shaped table.

"Sky Marshal Collins," drawled the Last True Prophet, the Voice of God, "why don't you inform us of the progress of the Sword of God." The Voice of God was at his most dangerous when he seemed the most casual.

"Holiness, our offensive is progressing. The Satanspawn are few in number and unable to withstand to Will of the Lord, but they have traded their souls for considerable power. Their doom is inevitable, but will not be without cause."

"Continue," said the Last True Prophet with a wave of his hand.

"As you command," said Collins. He was not a big man, nor particularily brave or charismatic. The head of Intelligence held is rank based on his connections, skill at bureaucratic infighting, and excellence at a job that was frequently staffed by non-entities and toadies. His next statements were carefully considered. He had long ago learned that the Elders responded poorly to ideas that they did not like. One had to be artful with the truth.

"Let me first address the defeat of Sky Marshal Adar and the loss of more that ninety percent of his task force over Fairhaven. This setback is not a disaster for us. Although Narsen prisoners find all sorts of ways to die in custody and all extremely dangerous to hold, we are getting the hang of it. Valuable intelligence data has been obtained from them and from materials captured on High Mesa."

"To be brief, we appear to outnumber them almost ten to one. Our scout ships have discovered the locations of many of their systems for the next stage of our offensives. To be blunt Revered Elders, the loss of three fleets at Fairhaven and one hundred thousand men at Loren's World aren't enough to serious injure us. The Sword of God is reactivating mothballed ships and all production facilities are operating at full capacity. We are calling up all available manpower to reinforce our ground forces.

"The Narsen have impressive individual capabilities and technologies, but they are ultimately doomed. Their ships have superior speed, power generation, and shield systems to ours, but have weaker armour. Their computer capabilities are impressive as are their weapons, but they face several critical problems."

"I have heard their armour is excellent," said Elder Phillips.

"Ahh, of course Revered Elder. I was speaking of hulls of their ships, not their personel and vehilce armour, which is unfortunately excellent. We are currently studying samples of enemy armour and producing more saboted armour piercing rounds for use by our ground forces against the Narsen. We hope to have better results in future engagments."

"Tell me about their weapons," said the Voice of God.

"Narsen missles outrange ours and have acceleration capabilities and warheads that exceed ours by approximately fifty percent. They have excellent evasive programs and combined with their higher velocity and shorter flight times, are quite difficult to destroy with anti-missle systems. Their drone fighters are smaller than ours and capable of higher speeds. They carry variable ordinance and are flown by sophisticated computer systems.

"Their direct fire ship weapons are considerably different. They seem to employ high energy laser turrets as their primary direct fire weapon. At Fairhaven they deployed five heavy cruisers or battlecruisers with a large spinal mounted railgun. The slug was both large and high velocity, but its most notable characteristic was that it contained some kind of fusion bomb that detonated on impact. The weapon was extremely destructive."

"It also underscores they Narsen weakness. Aside from those battlecruisers, they have nothing close to a true capital class vessel. Our relative inferiority in computer technology, have been made up for by the space available for dedicated battle computers on our capital ships. Their sheer size and armour and shields allows them to survive Narsen barrages and deliver heavy firepower to the Narsen fleet.

"The Narsen lack true capital class vessels. Until they do, they are incapable of direct action against our worlds and by our estimation the first such vessel is unlikely to leave their shipyards in less than two years. Our industry is mostly planet bound and protected from raiding efforts. Without capital ships, they will be unable to break through the Sheppards of Heaven's defence networks and our fleets without extremely heavy losses. Losses they cannot afford.

"The Narsen have a number of useful devices that the technical sections are attempting to reverse engineer. Anti-personal gauss rifles, heavy beam rifles that will penetrate light vehicle armour, smart missles, repulser combat craft, mobile theatre shields, and fusion powered tanks with main guns that run directly off the power plant. One of their brigades can destroy one of our divisions. We can afford that trade. They cannot."

"The strategy of the Sword of God is simple. We shall reinforce the fleets at High Sierra and Loren's World. We shall launch a new offensive and take Loren's World from the enemy. Both systems shall will be heavily fortified and become forward bases for attacking into enemy space. A new task force shall be assembled to attack directly into one of the the Narsen's heavily industrialized systems and take it from them. From there a grinding war of attrition will result in their inevitable collapse and extermination."