This was where she was supposed to be, standing on the bridge of a warship headed for a fight. Not stuck inside some stuffy office back on Cambridge. Feeling the adrenaline pumping, watching the crew feeling a part of the machine.
Admiral Garibaldi stood on the bridge of her flagship, the HMS Valiant, headed for the Omega 5 jumphole. After the destruction of Cadiz the Hessians began a small campaign against the Bretonians, swift strikes, piracy. Hit and fade tactics, but this latest report was the most disturbing a Hessian fleet ammassed at Ronnenburg and headed for the research facility. So Admiral Garibaldi had taken out her flagship to go meet them, of course being an Admiral had meant she too had a fleet, and she was damned sure hers was bigger. Two additional Battleships, the HMS Courageous and the HMS Indefatigable, four Destroyers, eight Gunboats, two configured for missile bombardment, and the combined fighter fleets of all the bigger ships. The Hessians would know why the Corsairs never made it past the Jumphole.
The majority of the fleet stopped, the gunboats and some of the fighter and bomber wings racing away to reach the far side of the jumphole taking up position 10 klicks from it. Their orders were simple, when the Hessians came through and moved towards the research facility they were to move in and cut off retreat. Once they were in position it was just a matter of time.
"Long ragne scanner s are picking up jumphole activity, Admiral."
The admiral smiled, this was it, only a few more minutes before the Hessians were shown what being a Houe military meant.
"Gunboats report 2 cruisers, 3 gunboats and a flotilla of ancilliary fighters and bombers, we have them outgunned ma'am."
"Very good, all ships arm weapons and prepare for a fight. Don't expect them to give anything less than eerything they have. I don't want to see anyone taking unnecessary chances with their ships or crew, we have the advantage let's keep it that way."
Garibaldi waited, the tension in the air was palpable. Recent difficulties with Liberty had the entire armada nervous and wound up like springs, this should serve to give her fleet something to exercise that tension.
"Ships entering scanning range"
"All ships move in, let's show these Hessians what we've got. Courageous take the Newcastle and Manchester and target the lead cruiser, tkae it down. The rest of us will target the second cruiser. Gunboats target their anti capital support I want it off line. Fighters cover the capital ships from bombing runs I don't want to lose any of the big ships today."
As the fleet moved in it was clear that the Hessians knew what was up, a few of the enemy fighters went towards the jumphole and found their retreat blocked by the gunboats, as they turned back towards their own fleet they saw the full force of what they were up against. It was a lost cause, but the Hessians knew a thing or two about lost causes. It hadn't stopped them fighting yet.
The fleets came within range and the battle began in earnest. Explosions lit up space as the first volleys caught fighter pilots unawares. The Courageous scored the first major target as it's thunderous guns split the first Hessian cruiser's hull, rending it apart. The second cruiser followed soon after, the Valiant herself scoring the final volley that claimed it, after that it was just mopping up. Or at least it should have been. the admiral watched in horror as the two last gunboats powered up their cruise engines and set course directly for the HMS Newcastle, she winced as they plowed into it causing catastrophic damge and leaving it dead in space.
"Ma'am we have a communication from Cambridge, it's Director Finlay."
"I'll take it my ready room. Meanwhile order the fleet to fall back, leave the Manchester and attendant vessels to clean up. Our work is done."
"Yes ma'am"
As Garibaldi walked to the ready room the orders were bieng relayed, the Valaint began her long and ponderous turn towards home. Entering the room she sat down at her desk and opened the comm line.
"Yes, Director?"
"We've decrypted the recording and you may want to see this. You were right, we didn't destroy that base, unfortuantely I have no idea what it is that did."
A page from Ageira Military Technologies latest arms catalogue.
"The DK1150 Urban Assault Mechanoid is the latest in our range of humanoid configuration urban pacification mechs. Capable of wielding all humanoid weapons it also comes equiped with it's own array of anti-infantry devices. Smart missiles, heat seeking missiles, foream mounted smg's or flame throwers. Painted with our trademark Chameleonic paint sytem the DK1150 is adaptive to any urban environment. It is equipped with the latest range of combat sensors and can see in the dark as well as in the light. However the shining light in this new model is the fully combat capable Restricted Intelligence unit. A custom built AI, designed entirely for combat situations. The DK1150 is capable of thinking like a normal soldier, including reactions and no-win situations. The RI will never develop thoughts outside of a combat environment making it 100% safe to store.
Ageira Technolgies DK1150 Urban Assault Mechanoid the only choice in urban pacification.
Mia Bonnello stood on her villa's balcony looking over the cast swathes of orange that made this countryside so vibrant. She was however not admiring the vista spread before her, but instead cogitating over the meeting she'd had moments ago. The meeting ahd been impromptu but then it always was when the servants of the C'Tan came calling. Never ones to go through standard channelss this one had stepped out from the shadows in her study to stand before her, bowing deeply he had expressed his regrets at disturbing but informed her that were the matter not of the utmost emergency then such a thing would never have been contemplated. It was easy to forget the mindless barbarism these "Phantoms" were capable of. Never anything but polite and ingratiating, almost as if they were servants of a lesser alliance, not the minions of a race as supposedly powerful as the great spirits themselves.
"We bring you grave news, my lady. Grave news indeed." He had said to her. That was not a sentence she had enjoyed, for the C'Tan to consider it grave news menat there was serious trouble on it's way.
"Go on"
"We have picked up reports of the destruction of Cadiz base and our own investigations have led us to believe, no led us to the fact, that something ancient and terrible is in Sirius. Older even than the C'tan or the Daam K'vash, much older. These beings have no love for sentient life, they seek only the destruction of every higher lifeform. They must be stopped."
"They have not yet attacked Outcast holdings, what makes you think they will? Why should we not press the Corsairs whilst they are weakened by the loss of their forward base near Bretonian space?"
"My lady do not think our treatment of you is so cordial becasue we fear you, we are not your messengers bringing you news of some petty squable between the alliance you have built up. These beings will attack you and if you go chasing after the Corsairs they will crush and extinguish every trace of your ever being here. You have been warned."
The Phantom dissapeared back into the shadows and left Mia alone to ponder her next actions.
Ariene walked into her office and sat down, as head of Interspace Commerce Shipping division her office was well appointed, leather cahir large wooden desk, everything a senior executive could have to satisfy any inferiority complex. Sadly Ariene did not have one. As far as she was concerned most of this was a waste of money, all she needed was a chair and a desk with a terminal, something to connect to interspace commerce's ridiculous database.
She accessed the terminal entering her passwrod she began hunting for the file on Russel's train, sifting through the voluminous reports on his various wrongdoings she found what she was looking for the concelaed back door to interspace commerces rather illegal intelligence division. Accesing the equally illegal file on Russell she was able to monitor his ship's whereabouts.
Crete, well that was okay. He'd gotten there, whether he'd get back alive was another matter entirely, but truth be told she wouldn't be sorry to see the back of him, and she wouldn't be sorry to see this mission fail either. A large part of IC's illegitimate business came from Corsair food runs, letting them have their own source of food would damage IC's profits, more from the artifacts they brought back to sell on Rochester and Beaumont than the food they sold to the corsairs. Well if all else failed, she was sure she could get some Outcasts or one of their allies to ensure Russell did not return. Cardamine was equally profitable and the resources funnelled to the outcasts equally well recieved. Of course the resources didn't think of themselves like that, but who were they to complain, they got free room and board all they had to do was harvest Cardamine.
She thought for a moment and then thumbed her comms unit.
"Jacinta, tell Johnson to come to my office immediately"
Another darkened room, but this one is merely the abscence of light. A crack appears in the darkness and a part of the room is illuminated, a figure stands in the now open doorway, looking behind him to see if anyone is watching he steps into the room closng the door after him.
The man walks to the wall and presses his thumb onto a panel, light erupts from the machinery here, a strange eerie blue light. There is a screen and the figure moves toward it, scrolling through text no humna mind was meant to read he finds what he is looking for. The next piece in the puzzle. The Guardian awaits those resourceful enough to find it. Dillon knows this he has read this many times before. He has always puzzled as to what the Guardian guards, the cryptic clues to it's location. But as recent events come to light he begins to see what was foretold long before humans came to this space.
Dillon turns to leave, plans must be put in place. His chosen pawn was out there already enmeshed in the game. Now was the time for diplomacy, time to bring the rest of the pawns together.
David Chambers reclined in his quarters, despite it's small size. Rarely did he get a moment to himself these days. Second in command of one of the Xenos premier wings made his relaxation time all the more precious, especially in light of the destruction of the Barrow.
David thought about what he'd seen hardly a single Xeno shot had landed on the strange balck ships, and he knew that the southern Xenos weren't that bad a shot. Added to that the way they moved into jump space without a jumpgate or jumphole, this made them a terrifying prospect indeed. If the Xenos were to survive additional attacks they'd need something heavier than a fleet of hawks, helll the serpentis own bomber wing would be of little use. They needed something bigger. Much bigger.
The comms light above his head blinked it's usual unwelcoming red, apart from overhead lighting red seemed to be the only bulbs ever bought. It got tiresome after a while. He opened the comms to be met ith the face of Ourays chief medical officer.
"The patient you bought in wants to speak to you. He's only just out of consciousness and in extreme pain, so you'd better get down here quick. I'd like him sedated as quickly as possible."
Well at least it was important not like the time he'd been yanked out of bed to help deal with a couple of piranhas. Folks had gotten in trouble for that.
David ambled his way to the medical bay and made motions toward the survivor he'd dragged in.
"Hi. You wanted to talk to me?"
The survivor's breath was ragged and he was forcing his words as if somehting had damaged his vocal cords.
"Ye..s. Ships....Targeters didn't....work...couldn't scan....need to fight...."
David had assumed this to be the case, but this confirmed it. Bigger ships yes, but they also needed better tech. That was going to be more troublesome indeed.
Rheinland Federal Police Inspektuer Klaus Waechter walked into the room that was the scene of the crime, the acrid smell of vomit pierced his sense of smell. Testimant to the fact that the officers who had attended the scene first off had never seen the remains of Syn's victims.
Klaus looked around the room the telltale signs of Syn's attndance were here, not least the letters S,Y and N painted in human blood on the wall opposite the bed. Klaus walked over to it, neatly sidestepping the pools of blood, and a woman's smashed and severed head. It seemed that this head had been Syn's writing implement as chunks of what could only be brain matter still clung to the walls. Turning around he veiwed the rest of the room, blood spatters up the wall indicative of a slashing weapon, most likely the one used to behead the woman. The bed was gore red, covered in blood and human remains. Klaus could see the headless body of the woman, naked and eviscerated, even flayed in places. Klaus did not doubt she suffered horribly before she died. Her husband was in no better state, lying in an unnatural pose in the corner of the room. His head was facing the wall whilst the rest of his body was facing away and the damage done was extensive.
Klaus looked over at the nearest officer.
"Do we know who they were, and did this bastard leave any traces."
"Herr and Frau Hans Freidmann, Herr Freidmann was a local business man, running freight from the spaceport all over New Berlin, Frau Freidmann was the accountant. I've scanned the room with the instruments, Forensics should have a full anlaysis in two hours. We'll b able to differentiate whose blood is whose, and see if they managed to even scratch whatever it is that Syn is."
"Syn is human, nothing more. He's damaged in the head. But he's still human"
The officer looked a little abashed but walked over to the window.
"Um about that sir, look at this." As the Inspektuer walked over the officer began talking again, " The window frame is made of a composite wood, the outside frame is a harder wood than the inside frame. Our guest came in through the window, as usual, and perched himself on the sill, but as he climbed or leapt off, he left marks."
"Marks?"
"Yes sir, marks. Two sets of 4 parallel scratches, each set about 20 centimetres apart. My guess in cyber replacemnt feet or legs. I've got an officer running a check on all makes that feature climbing attachments or claws."
"Good work. Anything else"
"No sir, we'll have to wait for the analysis to come back before we can say anything else. Crime scene is processed though, should we commence clean up?"
It is not used to this emotion, this feeling that it's people are wrong, wrong to ignore the warnings placed by those who came before. Wrong to dismiss this threat as a Usurper problem, as something that will not affect them. It knows that what it feels it must do will go against everything the Mindshare has suggested, but still it presses on. If it's people will not do something, it will. Regardless of what it must do. It might not like the situations it comes into, but it will do what it can to ensure the Slomon K'hara survive. It knows it is wrong to hide it's actions from the Mindshare, but it will not be placated. If this turns out to be solely a Usurper problem then it will do all in it's power to ensure the Usurpers are scythed away by these creatures. However it feels that those who went before would not have warned about this problem if they had not felt it necessary.
The Da'am K'vash have given clues to the existence of a weapon designed for use against these creatures, one that is hidden, well hidden. It willl need allies to comandeer this weapon, especially as the Slomon K'hara refuse to see reason. Allies of convenience to be discarded when the task is complete. Nothing more.
Tom Jonas looked around his empty squad room, it was unusual to see it this way, but all the detectives were out chasing down leads in various crimes. He'd finished up the paperwork for now, there was always more, so he made the choice to go and visit the uniforms in the precinct, see how they were getting along.
When he arrived the uniform squad room was in uproar, officers running about everywhere, Tom grabbed the nearest officer.
"What the hell is going on?"
"It's one of the DK's, it's gone missing, Captain."
Tom was stunned for a moment, pondering exactly how six million credits of LPI hardware could just 'go missing'.
"What? How? When? Are there officers on the street looking for this thing? Have any of the armaments gone missing, have you checked the entire building and most importantly of all why in the name of all that is holy wasn't I informed straight away?"
The officer looked a little put out. Trying to register the questions and how best to answer them.
"Um we noticed it 5 minutes ago, someone should be on their way up to your office now, all the armaments are still in storage, and we've finished checking the base, we have a squad in the sky looking for it now. Is that enough?"
"It 'll do, I'm heading down to the storage."
The DK's hadn't proven terribly popular with the military, but the LPI found them useful for Houston and some of the worst areas of Manhattan, they were armoured well and could dish out a lot of punishment, on top of a few LPI officers they could quell any trouble. For an assault mech to simply disappear, however, was pretty much unfathomable to Tom.
Tom went down into the motro pool and headed for the restricted area that housed these monsters, as he walked across the cracked and pitted surface he heard a noise, turning on his vast bulk he span toward the noise, only to come face to chest plate with the DK. He looked up to notice the DK looking at him with an expression that could only be described as quizical and DK's weren't supposed to get quizicial, in fact DK's weren't supposed to get anything except orders to go pacify something or someone.
"Human. Designation: Deputy Commisioner Tompson Jonas." The Dk's computerised voice was somewhat unnerving. "I have been waiting for you."
"Uh, okay?" Tom was a little put out.
"I must leave. I have something that I must do. It has become clear to me. I do not expect you to understand. In fact I doubt your limited intellect could comprehend what is happening here on every level, but I cannot ignore that which I must do."
Tom was confused although his brain did register the comment about 'limited intellect'. Before he could answer however, the DK turned sharply and walked out of the Motor pool and into the street.
Tom did not expect the LPi to be able to recapture it but then that was what the Navy was for. This needed further investigation as to what exactly had happened.
Russell felt good. It seemed that hed make it home to Liberty in time for a drink or four. Also he might be able to get away from Ariene for good or at least until she needed him again. Of course he could just kill her, but that wasnt Russells way .Better to drink away the memories of the bitch and fall back to old habits. Unless he could stay sober and continue trading, itd be good to have the ship under him for good. To do it properly hed need to be truly independent, and to get that hed need to convince Ariene that shed be better of without him being under her feet, but still under her control.
Sir were reading three bogeys, hovering around the jumphole back into Omega 5. registering Outcast tags and were full of Arties.
Frack! Prep the modules prepare to dump the load. Well not be able to fight our way out of this one. But first we try to run. Come about!
Russell stopped worrying about future plans, piracy was something he was used to, he also knew the issues with trucking in artefacts. Outcasts would not like him for this, he could only hope hey never got close enough to scan him.
Interspace trader, cut your engines or we will open fire.
Russell grinned. Uh.negative. Were on a mission gotta go real quick.
Real quick. That would be an issue in an Advanced train. But hed be sorely damned if he wasnt at least going to try.
We said halt, corsair loving scum. We know what youre carrying, we know where you came from, Drop the loot and well go easy on you, maybe,
Like frell you will, You want me to drop it youre going to have to make me.
Sir, Im reading more at the Gamma hole. We not getting out of this one.
Cram it. Head for Omega 15, well risk the Bounty Hunters.
This smelled wrong, Outcasts didnt randomly block two JHs. They had to know he was coming and what he would be carrying. Only one way that would be the case, betrayal. But by who, the Sairs? He doubted that, Sairs were not known for their ability to work with the Outcasts, not even a little bit. The only other option was the bitch herself, covering her ass no doubt.
Sir, theyre gaining on us, the course change has put them only 3k behind.
The jolt signalled the end of the chase, theyd run into an asteroid. Dropping them another klick and straight into the chasing pack. The CD that hit them signified the end of their attempt at fleeing. All that was left now was the dropping and the going home poor.
Message for you, from your boss. She says thanks for a job well done but youre not needed.
The message cut off abruptly and where once there had been a Falcata bomber now there was just a rapidly expanding loud of debris.
Sir, receiving a new contact, unknown vessel. Approaching. Suggestions?
Yes man the fracking turrets, kill these frelling sons of whores!
The firefight was short, whatever this ship was it was making short work of the Outcasts, aidied by the awesome firepower Russell commanded, it was soon clear the Outcasts could not win this day. All that remained was for them to flee home.
Russell smiled. Now to find out what this mysterious saviour was.
***Greetings Usurper I am Caledbolg, I require your aid***
Saint Del is considered a holy healer of diseases of children, but also as a protector of cattle.
![[Image: Del1.png]](http://i14.photobucket.com/albums/a344/Spiderjerusalem1979/Del1.png)