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SIDESTORIES: ALL THAT GLITTERS || 
VIXXEN International
~
Sinking into his seat with a soft groan, Korshal pressed a few buttons - which allowed him to get cosy, settling in for the long train ride ahead of him. A table, seat, and what he thought was a bed morphed into existence right in front of him. If he didn't know otherwise, he would have said that this was thaumaturgy.
Unfortunately for the Aurelian however, it was not meant to be. This was technology, through and through. How wonderous!
Dimming the lights to lessen the strain on his eyes, Korshal closed the windows entirely. Whilst the scenery outside was beautiful, it was also sombre and... depressing, in a way which he couldn't describe. Like the skies were exhausted and drooping, crying crystalline matter onto the all-too-joyful world below. Perhaps this embellished it a bit, but at the same time, it was what he thought of. Korshal hadn't bought any sort of high-tier ticket; he'd only anticipated being on the train for no more than a few minutes.
So he had to pay extra.
Capitalism at its finest, ladies and gentlemen! As the dinner bell rang to signal his meal's arrival, he dug in with gusto - only pausing to ask the waiter for, well, dessert.
"Gratitude, Vulpine. Does this train provide... dessert?"
With that said, he continued to scarf down his meal - it was all quite new to him, really. Aurelia had delicacies, yes, but being completely divorced from the galaxy means that food available was bound to be a little different from what humanity usually had to offer.
Two Shadahagra Class warships, retrofitted to carry more cargo than weapons, glided into the system. A mobile advertisement. The adviser, sent by Herveng Inspirations to assist the Aurelians in their use of the weapons, Dr. Ilyich K.R.I stood on the lead ship's bridge.
"Seen anything like this, Doctor?" the captain, standing next to him, asked.
Dr. Ilyich didn't answer, his eyes were affixed upon a screen displaying the outside of the vessel; the bronze spires they were approaching.
"Doctor," repeated the captain.
"Hm? what?"
"I said, have you seen anything like this?"
"Oh, no I haven't. Just look at it! It has no reason to exist. I feel like we're walking into a graveyard made of gilded metal; like some gate to old heaven that's not quite right."
The captain chuckled, "scientists."
Just then, the Aurelian welcome message played over the bridge's speakers. Strangely enough, and thanks to Aurelian translation tech, everyone inside understood what was said.
"Where's that coming from?" said the captain.
"Exactly," replied Dr. Ilyich. "There's more to these Aurelians than we've come to expect. We knew they'd be aliens but I, at least, expected to understand their basic nature. But this, this is something else."
"Look there." The captain pointed at the display screen, "the docking bay. Wanna say something before we get there? Perhaps a friendly hello, a 'we come in peace?'"
The doctor moved towards the control panel. He gingerly adjusted the microphone and began to speak into it. His voice came through the short range transmitters on the outside of the Shadahagra. "Aurelian officials, your welcome message is happily received. I am Dr. Nikandr Ilyich, your intended adviser. I come with the wares you purchased from the Herveng company. I come with knowledge of how to use them and, with your permission, we'll begin to dock and
unload our stock with the experts you so requested to guide you."
Post self-deleted by The Aurelian Empire.
0.23 REDUNDANCY
~
And what would ya know? There was diplomat Korshal of the Aurelian Empire, ready to accept them.
"Your request is received and approved," he spoke in a soothing voice.
Once they were ready, their warships would be allowed to dock at the station - living metal and Imperial Bronze morphing, twisting and moving to form airlocks that fit perfectly. Another strangely magical oddity, to be expected at this point. Everything about the Aurelian Empire screamed that they were alien, over and over again... but when the doors finally went down, a human was on the other side.
"Welcome, Dr. Ilych. Welcome, friends from Herverng."
A well-mannered fellow was on the other side, flanked by a retinue of bronze-clad guards, all of them holding what appeared to be a crossbow combined with a gun. Strange blue outlines ran down their middles; perhaps some sort of power conduit? But more importantly, they looked old-fashioned. Armour out of vogue. However, if one looked closely, a shimmering blue field indicated some form of personal shield generator.
The interior of the station was much the same as the outside; all gilded bronze tones. A hive of activity, the sound of boots on metal resounded through the structure.
12: Entrance
---------------
The existence of interstellar governing bodies, ones which contain the membership of individual nations, is an untouched phenomenon which may be positive or negative for our state. Rest assured, we shall find out.
-Translated writing of a court advisor to a friend
----------------
A rounded shuttle, one which had been used before in meeting with the Aurelian Empire, now contained the Emperor and his son, along with a unit of Sardaukar, an advisor, and a selected Herald of the Change.
The shuttle would take off from the palace grounds towards space, where one of the great heighliners awaited them. Their destination was entirely new; the Imperium had gotten word of an alliance of nations, which had piqued their curiosity.
The shuttle would dock in a designated spot aboard the heighliner, and just as quickly the ship would disappear, using its drive to carry them to their destination.
But without reaching the intended planet, they instead suddenly came to a halt in the middle of empty space. By all accounts, it couldn't be possible. Nothing was strong enough to beat back the drives which they used, and yet... Somehow it had.
The crew aboard the ship would not be able to set it into a slower mode, as heighliners we're only designed with their great travel speeds in mind. The shuttle, then, would move into the bay of a larger military ship, which would then depart out of the heighliner. The heighliner would stay for a moment, for its crew wanted to find the issue as well.
The ship carrying the shuttle now would have a faint blue tint surrounding it, and while it had weapons, none looked like they were going to be used against anyone.
They would wait for someone to come.
Ambition Burns the Worst | 
Coalition Remnants
Thot Arus Zur cursed himself and his leaders. He had told them they were pushing the Confederacy too thin, told them to hold the worlds they had, to make a fortress of their nation, assure compliance from every angle, and remove those who still resisted from within. In retrospect, it was a fool's plea at best. The Central Council had diluted itself in its own propaganda, believing, truly believing, that the Breen were without equal, without rival. They thought we could win any war, and to their credit, the Breen track record over the last few centuries had proven this view. But these victories were not hard-won, but rather a steamroll of lesser civilizations, ones barely controlling their own world or the star system they resided in, not full-fledged galactic powers. The Breen had not proven their own worth, and it would burn them badly. In time, when the war had stabilized, he would have to have a "talk" with the Central Council. Maybe a change of leadership was in order...
But his orders were clear; defend the Coreward Annex, and hold Defensive Line Kar (DLK) at all costs. And he would... oh he would. He stood on the bridge of his personal Pentath Class Destroyer, the Un'doc. The vessel was powerful, but not as powerful as the ones that stood at its side. Fourteen Hands of Breen Dreadnaughts, moon-sized behemoths of their own class entirely, over a thousand battle-cubes, testaments of Breen efficiency and power, and so many more ships, all gleaming in the bright sun-light of New-Camnira's blue sun. The entire Third War Armada was at his side, his to command. Across the DLK, almost four entire other war fleets of equal size lay in wait, the largest gathering of Breen forces in history. It would take time to muster the other three armadas, but they would be ready. Zur knew that at the very least any captured worlds or ships would be a hindrance at most to the coalition, the Breen technology would be too alien for the Coalition to operate. Their species did not have the anatomy the Breen possessed, that was if they even knew what the Breen looked like... and he also knew elements of the Fourth Fleet still operated in the captured zones, at least to a limited degree. It would not be easy, but Thot Zur had confidence, cautious confidence, but confidence nonetheless.
And so a single order was given, sent to the other fleets in tandem...
"Begin"
------
The Coreward Annex burned as Breen worlds were bombed, shipping lanes cut, and planets sieged. Already one of the Breen's formidable Star Stations, SAL-8 had fallen, its innards splayed across the stars in a final act of defiance to its would-be conquerors, but the system had fallen nonetheless. Now it seemed Coalition and Aurelian support forces were concentrating their attack on one of the Pearl-Worlds, Camdo. Thankfully Camdo was not defenceless, in the confusing first few weeks of the conflict, an entire battlegroup of the 4th fleet, some thirty-three thousand ships, had been caught behind the line. Now they hunker down in orbit of the planet as the world musters its defensive guard and orbital defensive platforms. Across the captured zone, two of the other major Star Stations had also fallen. But it would be a test of the Coalition's adaptability to see if they were of any use to them.
The defenders already knew it would be a slog for them. The Urthak, the once alien enemies made the closest allies of the Breen, were a mountain of bodies that could be deployed anywhere. Their hardy skin and exoskeletons meant they could operate even in space, and even when their ships were torn apart, they could infest the hulls and open causeways of enemy vessels like locusts to a crop. The Oodarans, ever the master diplomats and speech makers, rallied the remaining worlds to a united defense.
The war, this Great Core-War, was shaping up, as 420,000 Coalition and Orellian ships, were massed in the captured zone. But coming from the south, slamming against their line, were the Breen's fleets. 375,000 vessels, thousands of Battle-Cubes and dozens of Dreadnoughts. It would be a war in heaven.
Convoy 8688 || 
Fox Millworks
Under the command of Rear Admiral Saros, a thirty-one strong convoy motored northwest from the Saharian border to reach Thestral Union territory. A relatively routine trip through this region of space, affectionately known as “the Corridor” - a modest stretch of deadspace between the Republic and the Union which has seen an increasing amount of traffic ever since first-contact was made between the two nations. Even as the Colonial War came to a close, traffic in the region continued to increase…
The Saharian Navy not knowing any better of this region came as a consequence of the recent conflict; Republic recon and survey assets were given wholeheartedly to the war effort, with little care for what was widely assumed to be nothing but deadspace separating the Thestral Union and the Saharian Northwest. Assumptions are dangerous when accepted as unilateral truth.
Twenty haulers of varying sizes escorted by eleven combat vessels, under the Avalon-II type cruiser Dauntless. Such a routine mission hardly warranted much alertness. Leave it to Saharian admiralty to grow complacent at record rates…
Under Saros’s command, the Dauntless led the formation across the borderline and into the Corridor…
-2x Avalon-II Armored Cruiser
-2x Balinger Light Cruisers
-3x Palisade Fleet Frigate
-4x Caravel Corvette
-1x Mercury Large Fluid Transport (minimally armed)
-12x Marza Freighters (minimally armed)
-7x Steamrunner Light Haulers (unarmed)
Chains of Greed || VIXXEN International 
DOLOS AEC
As the waiter tended to the group’s drinks, the Executor watched him do so with extreme caution. Yet another vestige of paranoia which was now a lifelong trait. After someone tries to kill you with a poisoned beverage - twice - you never feel truly safe watching someone else pour a drink for you. He made absolutely, positively sure everyone’s drinks came from the same bottle, that there was no use of an assassin’s teapot…
Ellecon stayed mostly silent as Howard spoke. Then, upon Howard asking the two about their experience in boxing, Ellecon joined in. “I’m much more of a swordsman. I haven’t trained for unarmed fighting in… well, at least a few years… I've trained with dozens of masters over the years, fluent in multiple forms of bladed combat. I've had little time for it recently; I haven't sparred with another person in about a year now...” It felt like he was going to say something else; he paused unnaturally. Ellecon was about to bring up the fact that, in his line of occupation, if one found themselves needing to fight physically, they were already dead. He couldn’t bear to be the one to kill the good mood, though. He decidedly held his tongue.
Ellecon was certainly not much of a drinker. Only when he was much younger did he drink with any kind of regularity, back when his father still reigned. Ellecon was very much a lightweight; despite his apparently excellent physique, it did not take much of the stuff to bring him off the floor. He stayed silent for the most part, listening to Howard ramble on. And then, he did something quite stupid.
His confidence high, thanks in part to Howard’s own efforts - and blissfully unaware of the strength of the shot in front of him - he downed it without a second thought. A look of sheer, panicked regret soon followed as that bourbon did a number on him. It was far stronger than he ever expected, jarring him wide awake and singing his whole mouth and face as he uncontrollably grimaced. He hunched over a bit, managing to stop himself from coughing. The strongest thing the man had ever downed up until this point was the occasional champagne or red-wine.
He certainly made a bit of a scene, the indefatigable Executor brought to heel by a shot of bourbon.
Convoy 8688 \\\ 
New Saharia
Without warning, these ships were ripped from hyperspace. Sitting there, this fleet of thirty one stood near the middle of a system. Surrounded on all sides by ships of various build and design.
At bearing 300, an almost derelict shipyard stood, swarms of large ships of various roles crowding around it.
The designs of these ships were numerous and wide reaching. Almost every corner of the galaxy was represented, with a heap of DOLOS designs.
The appearance of the ships was more alarming than anything. Some painted with the streaks of pirates, others with faux military jobs, easy to tell they were fake.
Despite having ripped the fleet out of FTL, nothing was being said. There was no hail sent, no voices coming over demanding their booty, or apologizing for the incident.
Dead quiet.
3
“Magic? We have no such word in our language. What do you mean it isn’t technology based? That must be a translation error, our translation program doesn’t have much to go on yet. The history of your people must be long if you predate the unification of humanity. Can you still trace your lineage to a human civilization on Earth? We trace ours to the Atran Empire, back before humanity was brought to space.”
Anti-Piracy: The Battle of Okko Station
With the formation of the 1st Armada of the Imperial Atran Navy, the anti piracy campaign has been largely successful, attacks on inter system hyper lanes have dropped dramatically by 70% since the start. However there remains one notable area, the Akkaren Sector, where piracy remains rampant, with the main pirate base yet to be located, until now. Earlier in the week, a captured ships hyperspace data log finally revealed one location they jumped too after every attack, the Okko System, an uninhabited binary star system with nothing but asteroids and a few barren dwarf planets. A small scout probe confirmed the location of a large orbital outpost in orbit of Okko C14, one of the asteroids, alongside the presence of a substantial fleet of a few hundred small ships. In response, a system fleet of 150 ships has been dispatched under command of Rear Admiral Calimir to destroy the pirate holdout.
As the Atran ships drop out of hyperspace well inside the system, the Okko base has already detected the incoming vessels and begun dispatching fighters and preparing battle stations, with the mixed fleet of a few hundred corvettes and frigates, civilian ships converted to combat vessels, forming a battle line in the asteroid field around the station.
Rear Admiral Calimir, on deck of his flagship, the Lumen Class Cruiser, AIN Akar, hails the pirate station, sending a demand of surrender as the Atran fleet lazily advanced towards the asteroid field. The response to the demand is short and instantaneous, the Okko stations antimatter cannons immediately open fire, catching the Atran fleet with its shields down. Streaks of vibrant purple energy flash across the empty space at nearly the speed of light, slamming tungsten containers filled with multiple grams of destabilized antimatter into the Atran fleet at nearly the speed of light.
Flashes of all consuming light fill the void of space, as multiple ships are vaporized in an instant. 13 frigates, 23 corvettes, and two cruisers, including the Akar, killing Rear Admiral Calimir instantly. The Atran fleet immediately panics and begins raising shields, firing back in an unorganized attack, firing a full barrage of their own antimatter weapons. More brilliant flashes of purple fill the space as both fleets trade blows, though now both sides are fully shielded, and so the explosions crash against shields, creating flashes of bright purple and blue.
The Atran forces, now without a commander, begin to make a disorganized retreat to the edge of the system to regroup, with the AIN Junu, the only remaining Lumen Class Cruiser, taking operational command under control of Captain Malenkovic. A large group of pirates use the opportunity to jump into hyperspace and flee the system, with only 30 ships remaining to defend Okko station to the death.
With command of the fleet under Malenkovic, the Atran fleet takes a proper fighting stance, with what remains of its frigates and cruisers grouping together while screening ships form up on the sides of the formation to protect the flanks and continues to return fire, focusing its heavy cannons on the smaller ships to overwhelm their shields and pick them off.
As bright purple streaks across the void, numerous pirate ships are vaporized as their shield capacitors overload and fail, with the antimatter cannons smashing into the hulls and causing the ships to explode in brilliant flashes of light. Soon, all that’s left is the station itself.
Atran forces fire a full barrage of micro missiles, with thousands of small missiles slamming into the stations shields simultaneously, causing a capacitor failure. With the shields down, a WIL-78 Class Light Cruiser, equipped with ionic cannons, fires a pulse at the station, overloading the reactor and causing a loss of power. With the station disabled, the Atran fleet fires a full barrage of cannon fire directly into the station, causing it to explode. The battle of Okko station, the first real battle the Atran Navy has fought, has ended, with heavy casualties for the Atran Navy.
Post self-deleted by The trauma.
Note: This contains information regarding the first concepts for TRAUMA, the updated content - with new and changed info - is at my Factbook.
FACTBOOK: TRAUMA
Brief
- 5 Outer Major Systems (-/+ 250 Systems)
Ideology: Eco-Socialism
Government: Eco-Industrialist
- Natives of the planet Misery, in the Main System of Mirabilis, Region of Sovereign, Nebulosa of Sentil;
- Their Star, “Mirabilis”, is a G-Type ‘B-White’ Star;;
- Misery is a part of a Binary Planet, the second is Eko, an ocean planet.
- Their Capital, the Orbital City of "Misery", holds 208 Billion in Population.
Species: The Trauma (Furries)
An Ambiguous and lighthearted race who share a symbiosis with plant-life.
Symbiosis led them to depend on a substance produced in the 6 Major Star Rings, Photosynthetics;
First Key Features
- Cybernetics;
- Bodies Overgrown by Plant-Life;
- Extra: Droids / Robots sub-species.
- Rebellious Nature
+ Edited / Added Features:
- Reality Glitches [Crystallization]
- Photosynthetics are made of, well, photons [Liquid/Gas]
- Hostile Fauna
- Questionable Ethics [Especially in Medicine]
- Maniacs by certain perspectives [More Ambiguity]
- Mega Surveillance Systems [WDL Inspired]
- Early Megacorps [Later Revolution]
- Extended Ancient and Recorded History
First Encounters Fox Millworks
Stations near the Graven Territories' southern border would suddenly receive an SOS signal from an unknown ship just within their borders. The ship makes no further attempt to hail any Graven stations, or exit their borders unannounced. It just sits there, drifting silently and eerily. Any scans from the Graven would show that the ship's shields are fully down with no signs of life on board. To make matters stranger, the ship has no markings on it's hull and it appears to be old. Extremely old.
Happy Holiday Whiplash
Martyr Terrace, Axon
40 RE
Hundreds of glistening skyscrapers towered over the high society hotel and residential zone that Investigator Rusan unfortunately found himself in. Stepping out of his patrol car, he walked under the baleful gazes of Upper City cops and into the Martyr Terrace Hotel. It was one of those new establishments that sprung up on Axon to cash in on Lhana Selay's title and namesake.
They sure didn't care much about her ideas, seeing how they looked down their noses at him. Tukh was too busy talking his ear off about these new "Saharians" that the Party found, out on the edge of who-knows-where, to notice. What the hell did he care about some clanless foreigners? Were they going to help him solve a murder? Tukh seemed a bit miffed that he wasn't interested in that nonsense, but he didn't care. He had new developments to think about.
The sucker they pulled out of the canal turned out to be a former Jhal-Tek salary man who was staying here on a business trip before he was fired after all the hot water the company landed in boiled over. Wren Firyan id Jhailat. As the elevator ascended to the dead man's floor, Rusan repeated the name over and over in his head, memorizing it. The woman at the desk told them it was the first room on the left, and asked them not to track any dirt into the establishment. Like this place wasn't third rate for the Exchange districts.
The district officers on the scene had taped off the part of the hallway the room was in. As they approached, a particularly bored one leaning on the doorframe pushed it open for the investigators with a yawn. Rusan nodded to the man but he didn't reciprocate, instead turning around to fiddle with his watch.
The hotel room was a mess. Its small kitchenette had its cabinets torn open, contents left strewn about along with that of the dresser and closet. Someone was already a step ahead.
Rusan shook his head and began by giving the salaryman's desk a once over while Tukh headed back down to talk with the receptionist. Like the rest of the hotel room, it was a mess, turned over onto its side. A stack of (unfortunately blank) notebook paper carpeted the floor around it along with... something he had to kneel down to inspect.
He pinched a black substance between his fingers and watched it trickle to the ground. Ash. He looked up. Smoke detectors should have tipped off the building's staff. Judging by the size of the pile, the perp wouldn't have had enough time to burn everything without someone raising a fuss. There was more that seemed off about the scene. No sign of forced entry. The door was entirely undamaged, there wasn't even a broken window. Someone came in and just walked through the door. What made this stranger was that the cadaver had its hotel key on it.
As Rusan dusted off his pants and stood up, Tukh came walking through the door. "Hope you had better luck up here than I did in the lobby..." he said, scratching behind his neck.
Rusan shook his head ruefully. "What did they tell you?" he asked.
"Lady said that Firyan had booked the room for a month. All she knew about his background was that he was some Megaran hotshot, which checks out. When was the last time you saw a Jhailat on Axon?" Tukh replied. "Back in the morgue," he muttered, "did she say anything else?".
Tukh dug around in his pockets for his cigarettes before saying, "Nah, stepped back to take a call from the missus and she clammed up as soon as I got back. Something is off about this hole, Rus'."
Rusan couldn't help but agree with the scrawny detective's assessment. That weasely manager that was skulking behind the receptionist probably had a talk with her once Tukh had his back turned. He grit his teeth. They couldn't do anything about it either. Upper city cops had them under a tight leash. They tried to grill either of them, and they'd cut them out of the investigation in this district. He wouldn't give them an excuse.
He gave the apartment another once over. There had to be something here. He even found himself looking under the bed like a paranoid child past his bed time. All he found under there was a pair of slippers. He pulled them out regardless, grumbling to himself. Tukh announced his presence at his side with the smell of cigarette smoke and a snort.
"Hope you aren't thinking about lifting those," he chuckled, "Last time you 'borrowed' something from a scene we were on gutter duty for three months, remember?". Rusan groaned. "That was eight years ago, Tukh. Let it go," he said, idly turning one of the slippers over and shaking it on the off chance there was something hidden within. And to his immense suprise, a scrap of paper fell to the carpet below him.
He quickly swiped it up, unfolding it. Tukh leaned over his shoulder as he read out the hastily scrawled note. "UD-2850 INDUSTRIAL DZ 9". Under district one thousand twenty three, industrial development zone nine. An address. He stood up and handed the slip over to Tukh, putting a hand on his temples. "2850 has been abandoned for decades. What the hell was this guy doing with an address for some run down factory in the Hollows?" Tukh sounded as exhasparated as Rusan felt. It was close to 1818, at the very least. "Seems like our only lead. Besides, its not that deep." Tukh just scoffed. "Lets stop at a corner store on the way over. I'm going to need more cigarettes for this. And antimycotics."
The officers left the little hotel on Martyr Terrace, armed with knowledge and tortured by new questions. But they had no idea what they were about to unearth.
0.24 SOLI NECISQUE
"Oh, it is no translation error. Surely you must have a word for the supernatural, the impossible, and such... Miracles, would be the closest phrase," the diplomat pronounced with a grandiose sweep.
"As for a lineage... Earth is a planet only told of in the legends of unascended humans. We... are older than that. Our lineage can be traced far before the first human civilisation began on Earth. Perhaps a spatial anomaly formed by our dimensional cage; I can think of many other explanations, however. None of them proved."
With a soft tone, he continued. It was almost as if this was some sort of secret that he was loathe to divulge; common knowledge in the Empire, yet completely foreign to those outside it. A common theory that had yet to be proven.
"I believe us Aurelians to be created from humans for a higher purpose, one that has not become apparent yet. It has something to do with our thaumaturgy, our magic..." He summoned a globule of fire into his hands. "Though that is just a theory."
Post by Old saharia suppressed by New Saharia.
Hi
"Manach, yes. Very nice to meet you! Talking is nice, isn't it? Especially about work, but work is boring." The Ambassador says in a (soon to be acquainted with) very meaning-nothing way. Ambassador Tennant has an incredible wealth of stories to regale Manach with and astoundingly zero of them are of substance to the relevant job, though Tennant seems to apparently know better than to waste time. If only slightly. He stops himself mid sentence dozens of times as he steps back onto the subject matter: Mirpakian relations
The ATO would be interested in an relations experiment: the galaxy is extremely vast and the powers and people in it are both greater, more homogenous, and (to the ATO's reckoning) rather unstable. It is seemingly not uncommon for sudden wars to explode between unrelated groups, and so far it has become increasingly poignant that the potential for allies in the ATO's position is thinner by the day. The ECFN is buckling as a result of the Core War, and in the absence of military allies or security agreements the Solarian Union to the galactic North is projected as a major long term threat.
What the ATO is interested in doing is a rapid fire course in relations development and management. And involved with that is a cooperation between navies between Mirpakian Naval Officers and Starfleet's personnel.
Of course, while this is an exciting prospect, that also isn't an innocent one. The ATO doesn't know much about Mirpak, except that Solaria rather apparently keeps major grievances with them. Very big ones. "Major not goods" the Ambassador put it. They offer Manach the chance to be frank and up front about their history with Solaria. This is a matter which the ATO would need to heavily consider for future relations.
Ambition Blazes
Victory, at least in small parts. The Breen advance into the captured territories had been slow and ruling at first, but as it became clear the Orellians were prioritizing the protection of their hidden siege worlds, the Breen found minimal resistance in the "lesser" systems they recaptured, a few dozen Orellian ships were engaged, some destroyed, the others fleeing back home. Along the trade routes, still targeted by Coalition bombers and attackcraft, Orellian ships were caught off guard when cloaked interceptors and destroyers fazed into the battle them off when they attacked convoys. The First push had managed to get trade, at least near the front lines, moving smoothly again, and thus supplies were reaching deeper into Breen space, where the ship-yards of the central Confederacy could continue to turn out new ships and weapons. All that considered, however, the Breen fleets had still been suffering, in the first month of the push north alone, they had lost over 30,000 ships. This war was already the largest loss of ship units ever in Breen history, and it didn't help when the new came from Camdo of the Orellian super-weapon and its effect on the defending fleet there....
Skies Burns
Of the 33,212 Breen vessels defending the pearl world of Camdo, 8,445 had been caught in the destructive cone of the Siegebreaker, another 2,077 Were destroyed in the ensuing chaos, leaving only 22,680 Breen craft to try and resist the advancing Orellians on the planet below. Already the Orellians were streaming to the planet, but surface defenses were there to meet them. Missiles and orbital plasmid guns fired upwards, turning the air into a cacophony of roars. The fleet which was not destroyed by the attack of the Siegebrakers turned their guns on the advancing Orellian crafts, using the crossfire to focus fire on the landing and bombing crafts. While the smaller ships turned their guns towards the Coalition push, the three dozen or so Battle-cubes and the singular "Hand of Breen" Dreadnaught looked to far orbit. Thye began to trade blows with the Siegebraker crafts, focusing fire on the main weapons and engineers, intent on rendering them useless. From their hulls spilled thousands of small Brencor Fighters, pilling out like a swarm of locust to draw away the defenders of the enemy superweapons.
On the surface, while other members of the planet's populace ran an hid, the stubborn bugs many knew as the Urthak hunkered down even as the skies burned. Their hivemind called for them to stand and fight, to the last, for their Matriarch who was currently buried deep in the planet's crust. If the Orellians landed any troops on the surface, they would be a wall of claws ready to pounce on them.
Zur Rethinks
As another trio of Orellian bombers fell victim to the guns of the Un'doc, Thos Arus Zur sighed, or did the equivalent to what his species would consider such body language. The War had not been going well. News had reached him of the devastation of the Orellian weapons on their lines around Camdo. There was almost nothing the Breen could have done. A literal hole had been punched in their defenses, and what remained of the defenders were desperately trying to hold onto the orbital zone. Zur had to make a choice; his forces had every intention of breaking through the line and reaching the world. But he had to decide if he wanted to try and break the siege or evacuate who he could and stabilize the war. Another alternative was to abandon the world all together, tell his forces in its orbit to leave and come to him, sacrificing the world to save the battle-group still in orbit.
As the last Orellian bomber was torn to shreds by his destroyer's firepower and the overlapping attack from his escort flotilla, he contemplated if this was even worth it in the end. The Confederacy should have turned inwards, built up its worlds and made pearls out of new ones instead of reaching so far out into the galaxy. Maybe, in some twisted way, losing the coreward annex to the Orellians would be what the Breen needed to focus on their internal structures instead of conquering everything in creation. But the Central Council would never see it for themselves, and someone would have to show them the way. They had given Zur command of thousands of ships, they trusted him, and that would probably be their downfall...
Data was enchanted with this news. Though he could not express it, a powerful sense of belonging comes over his positronic brain. He starts asking more questions about Synth life and how they came to be. Who created them? Or did they evolve as organic life does from some electrical anomaly? Where do more of them come from?
As he does and Geordi listens, more Starfleet are getting their things together from the shuttle pads. Enterprise is on an unusual second contact mission, and to the enjoyment of the officers that means anyone on duty today can partake in what is essentially elective shore leave: second contact tourism! Check the equipment and make sure everyone is settling in. And as they do, check out the local restaurants, see the culture sites and museums, try the food, and watch the "televisions" that the galaxy continues to enjoy watching.
The Birth of the Fleet of the Exiles
As the ongoing war between the Confederacy of the Core and the Solarian Union on one side and the Orwellian Coalition on another so many civilians who have been swept aside had their lives ruined not only from their war but the endless expansion from the Brene Confederacy as well. All of these civilians had lost their homes who need a place to shelter them a place to regroup a place to reclaim their home from to have their revenge from. As such Thestral Vessels came to the core mainly transport ships escorted by Thestral mlitary vessels picking up any of those left behind to leave in exile and return with a vengeance to train with the Thestral Union.
The Tenth Sphere of Expansion
The Ashkatan League once again begins expanding into the Galactic Mid-Rim while ignoring the ongoing travesty in the Core.
+750 Systems
EXPANSION | JAN 1 | 2024
The Perseus-Rift Federation has begun yet another wave of colonization across the nation. Colonists, clones, and androids would settle various worlds across the central and northern territories, while other areas were further developed. Habitat stations would increase in numbers in the core territories, providing additional population centers for travelers and immigrants.
Various systems across Defen-8 and Leo-9 would be settled to a degree, mainly to prop up additional defensive positions. Stations, outposts, military factories and naval dockyards would be created in these regions, along border territories by PRF and Werfyr forces. The Ka-Puar would also take several systems and planets for use as datacenters, and would construct habitat stations alongside them.
+ 750 systems
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