Rising from the Embers of Sera

by thehappy

The people of Sera rebuild, spreading to the stars. Wars will be waged. Peace will be sought. The Coalition has risen from the ashes to take their right to exist in the galaxy. They will survive...no matter the cost.

5. Chapter Four: Stalled Offensive

Hello everybody! I am back with another chapter! While normally with my story rotation I would do Shifting Through Realities next, I have so many ideas for this one that I cant ignore them! Also, dunno how I forgot chapter titles but I did…I'll fix that with this update.

Secondly. For those that are waiting for ME stuff to happen, I've done some brainstorming and I should be able to either include something at the very end of this chapter…or then next one since I had a massive idea change.

As always, I don't own any rights to anything

Chapter Four: Halted Offensive

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Oceania System. 3rd of Frost. 421 A.E.

Fleetmaster Bo'klar had halted his combined forces at the edge of this system, his hopes for an easy battle already lost. Sensors from his advanced pickets had told the tale…over six hundred enemy vessels awaiting his nine hundred ships. Well…nine hundred forty ships. But he wasn't about to include the helpless transports in that number.

Recasting his gaze to the representation of this system, he could feel the importance. A massive fleetyard orbited a gas giant, the nearby mining industries feeding war and construction. The world was a shimmering blue of oceans and archipelagoes, crawling with the vermin as the other dead planets rotated serenely.

He wanted to believe he had the advantage due to his numbers…but…studying the mass of icons representing the hostile fleet, he knew that advantage was minimal at best.

"What a beautiful world. A privilege we will be liberating it from these creature's" the nearby priest stated, but Bo'klar barely heard him. He was trying…kicking himself for some amazing tactical plan aside from flying into the jaws of his enemy. Barely a rumble escaped his large lips as he studied the layout of his target...then his own dispositions.

"The destroyers…all they'll end up doing is dying needlessly once the battle begins. And the invasion…" His scales shuddered, the recent call with the Supreme High Priest just hours before hollowing his spirit. The underlying threats of failure would've made a younger officer soil themselves. He had voiced… concerns that their forces were becoming overextended, but the mortal representation of his god assured them that victory would be his.

If Bo'klar turned without a fight…he would be executed by Fit'hic's guards before they even made warp speed. The High Council wanted this world…a temple of life and water to be theirs. Precious growth that must be liberated and protected under their gaze.

"We still don't know the extent of the blue's territory. We could be facing…" He sneered, pushing the inner monologue away as the bridge crew input fresh data of the star system. The fleetmaster almost cursed the Supreme Priest…but such thinking was dangerous. Still…

How did they expect him to stage an invasion and fight an enemy fleet at the same time? Leaning forward, the fleetmaster studied the holographic representation of the Oceanic world. To assume it wasn't defended by those orbital satellites would be folly.

"If only I could neutralize those def-" The idea came like a flash, replacing stale ideas with the possibility of victory. While it wouldn't work against mobile targets as small as ships in the vastness of space, those defensive platforms were mostly stationary. Not only that…but it could draw the enemy to him…perhaps sufficiently to launch the invasion while their ships burned.

It was a gamble. But the only one he could think of aside from a suicidal charge. That…or retreat and execution. "No…if I died in some futile attempt at…betrayal, Fit'hic would just assume full command and fly straight into the maws of this race. I must pursue victory!"

He established communications with his sub-commanders, informing them of his plan. None had raised an issue, seeing it as not only a great honor for the smaller ships…but for the will of their god and race as well. Ending the communications, Bo'klar watched the invasion transports and the escorting squadron break away, their engines flaring hot and bright as they started to make a wide, arching turn along the system elliptical.

He was sure his opponent would detect the movement of the contingent, but the concern was low. He dragged the light pointer, highlighting the asteroid belt wedged between the orbits of the second and third gas giants.

He wasn't worried about the first large planet and the orbiting shipyards along the far reaches of the system. No, his concern was picking the proper place for battle. An oblong of space that consisted of floating rocks, torn apart by the gravitic forces of the two gas giants on either side.

Their orbits almost hugged each other and added another element to his choice. The Blues…they loved diving into those spinning breeches of space, but he had observed something during the last few battles.

They couldn't use that technology in gravity wells. At least…he didn't think so. If his fleet managed to stay at an agreeable distance from either gas giant with overlapping fields, it could be a key to their victory.

"Time and again…they have ravaged our fleets in the open…or near the worlds they foolishly defend. They have superior capital ships and missile technology…along with those particle beams. But how will they fare among the broken shards of unformed worlds as they charge into my guns?"

"We will take station among the belt. Ignore any mining installations until we have defeated the blue fleet" Clasping his clawed hands behind his back as he stood tall, his voice was sure and strong of command. "Once we are in position, I want a standard bombardment against the inhabited world"

The high priest stirred, his gaze of reptilian eyes curious. "Forgive my ignorance, but won't the vermin's defenses intercept our attack from such a long range?"

"Perhaps. But even if only a minimum of strikes hit the world, it will be enough to draw the enemy to attack us while we reduce the infection of the surface. It also has the added benefit of supporting the invasion squadron"

"I see. Very clever" the priest grinned wide, his throat sac a warm yellow of pleasantness.

Fleetmaster Bo'klar took his seat after the small praise, his combined forces of eight hundred and nine ships burning hot to the asteroid belt. It would take a good hour, more than enough time place his fleet and begin the long range bombardment against the infested world…and lure the enemy to him.

His teeth bared…almost a savage, feral look as he envisioned the victory and crushing of the hated foe.

Alya Carmine could feel the gnawing itch of…worry. Clawing at the back of her mind as she stood at the tac-com display of her flagship, her brow was creased in confusion.

The Toads had to know that she knew of their splitting forces, long range sensors bringing back a data stream of reports. But instead of charging straight into the system like previous battles, they had vastly split. Approximately one hundred thirty vessels had peeled away, arching along the systems edge, but slowly closing to point toward Oceania.

Nearly thirty transports, escorted by a flimsy screen of destroyers that had completely ignored far laying sensor stations and mining operations. In terms of a fighting force…it would be easy to destroy.

"But they haven't even attempted to attack anything…what are they up to?"

Her gaze fell onto the majority of the enemy fleet, their movement surging them toward the outer belt and between Oceania V and VI. Nearly eight hundred vessels against her six hundred. Still outnumbered, but attrition had not been kind to them. And to be honest with herself…madness of continued attack.

"It's like the loss of a whole world didn't even concern them…they still attack. Any sane commander would fall back to reorganize, shorten supply lines…but its like they are commanded by insanity" She told herself. Looking at the holographic icons of her own command along with the remnants of the fifth fleet, she smiled at the small floating representation for Azure Ocean. It was new…the crew untested with dozens upon dozens of fresh reinforcements. But if used correctly…it could turn the tide of battle.

As a fighting force, they had burned engines hot across the system, Carmine knowing that the larger force was the greater threat. Whatever that smaller, secondary group had plann—

The toads revealed their strategy the moment their fleet took up defensive positions among the broken shards of unformed planets.

"ADMIRAL! The Toads have opened fire!"

"What!? At this range!?" Alya asked in disbelief. It was madness. The sheer distance between her fleet and the enemy ensured that there was more than ample time to avoid the incoming accelerated rounds. Even traveling at one percent light speed, the mass of fire would take at least three minute's to reach her command.

Tactical went into overdrive, the computer slaving possible outcomes with the assistance of human crew. "The…the target is Oceania!"

It was so glaringly obvious. While her ships could easily avoid any such attack at this range…a planet could not. Its path was predictable…a simple oblong rotation that would take the hailstorm of coming death and destruction.

"INTERCEPT THAT ATTACK!"

"Probability puts total interception at…sixty eight percent!" tactical answered with a shout as the fleet surged forward.

"Then the orbital defenses will have to pick off the rest!" the admiral shouted as her ships began to fire, brining the enemy munitions into the envelope of destruction. Anti-missile and defensive laser batteries fired, lances of blue burning across the darkness of space to add a roiling destruction among the velvet dark.

Hundreds of rounds were intercepted, becoming nothing but shattered slag that would be harmless to the colony. But as predicted…nearly two hundred fifty slugs made it through, burning on streaks of light to the beautiful world.

The HoD defensive net was on high alert, immediately opening fire on the largest munitions to threaten their charge. More were shot down, orange beams of particles sundering them into broken ash and debris. But still…some made it through…and some missed the planet completely.

A combined force of twenty-six slugs impacted Oceania, a trail of kinetic bombardment that staggered across the Oceal Island chain and the beautiful, life bearing oceans with titanic forces. Each with the power of nuclear strikes, two cities along the Oceal coastline were hit, killing a combined total of one and a quarter million people. If that wasn't enough, the ocean strikes created more suffering in the forms of tidal waves…waves that would travel to landmasses hundreds or thousands of miles away to sow more death and destruction among the Seran population.

And that's when the secondary Toad force struck from past the twin moons of the colony. While the fleet had been preoccupied with moving to engage the main force and the following attempt to intercept, thirty destroyers had pointed toward Oceania with specific targets in mind.

Their crews had prayed to Klorta, thanking their god for such a wonderful opportunity to serve and protect life from the vermin of pollution that they faced. Sub-ship leaders gave the order, the engines glowing hot as the energies of FTL built…then snapped forward across the system.

The first destroyer struck Defensive Satellite number twenty-three, a successful suicide run that killed the entire crew in a flash of light and kinetic force…and completely destroyed the defensive platform. With speeds far in excess of the targeting computer's capabilities, the HoD had no chance of successful interception. When the blast wave of circular fire edged away, nothing but spinning slag and shards of metal remained, the force more than enough to obliterate the target.

This was just the first of many, the suiciding destroyers and their crews glad to enact such a victory to pave the way for the invasion. By their reasoning, they actually lost fewer ships and crews this way, and for obvious gains as well. Points of light surged…bloomed in the high orbit around Oceania as half the planet was laid bare to attack…and the invasion contingent would not waste the chance.

Thirty transports, fifty five destroyers and ten light cruisers surged forward to begin the bombardment and landings, their mass accelerators targeting the first cities and towns.

While many civilians had found shelter in basements, sewers, or actual disaster shelters…or evacuated into the wilds of the nearby jungles, it would be impossible to not face loss as the first urban centers became scenes of apocalyptic carnage. Blazing firestorms…buildings and structures, the elegant hotels that supported the tourism industry. They all bore the brunt of destruction as tens of thousands died in the first minutes, adding to the horror of the death toll.

It would only be a matter of an hour before the first ships landed in cleared zones, ready to unleash genocide as the Gears could only wait it out…and bear the losses across half the planet.

Fleetmaster Bo'klar grinned savagely, his plan coming to fruition. So far, only a handful of destroyers were gone, and his transports were already in orbit of the world.

"Now…to ensure they come toward me…target the Blue fleet"

"Yes Fleetmaster!" weapons replied with a tone almost joyful. For once, the plan was working…and with victory in this battle, it would ensure the breaking of the enemy fleet.

His flagship fired, a burning stream of metal and light that mixed in with another eight hundred shells. The Plasma Cruisers didn't fire yet, their hulls hidden among the rocks and crevices of the churning asteroid field.

No need to give the enemy targets of his most effective ships.

The Blue fleet took the bait, leaving the life bearing world behind to enclose with his fleet. They managed to avoid the massed volley, but he wasn't concerned about that. No…he wanted to sow confusion among a terrible battlefield of asteroids, ice, and gravity wells of gas giants.

Bo'klar wasn't surprised in the slightest when the distant fleet surged into the spinning holes of time and space, no doubt to hasten the trade of battle. But if he was right…

"Six hundred Rip-space signatures! Approximately one million miles above the system elliptic!"

"I love being correct" he grunted, his throat sac turning a warm green. Leaning back, he steepled his fingers as his eyes glowed with destruction and war. "Make them come to us. Don't leave the belt for open space…that's what they want" He commanded as his ships began to angle upward with their frontal bows pointed. He had made it abundantly clear…don't expose the flanks…make them pay with their own ships and crews.

Tro'lin fired, eighteen kilograms of metal burning upward to meet the enclosing foe with hundreds of brethren as the fleets entered combat range among the spinning debris of asteroids and shimmering ice. The large shell smashed against one of the enemy dreadnaughts, the shields flaring as the ships moved closer and closer to knife range. Blues and greens flashed, defensive armaments burning through space as anti-missile batteries bloomed fire.

The toads had drawn first blood, their mass accelerated shells smashing down the shields of destroyers and ripping through the hulls even as they flared engines on torpedo runs. Twelve were crippled, another six destroyed completely as they broke apart under concentrated enemy fire, spilling Seran lives among the belt.

Coalition ships returned fire, a massed volley of shells targeting the invading fleet, closely supported by thermic lances and launching fusion torpedoes. But the errant movements of asteroids…tumbling rocks of ice and unmined metals played havoc with targeting on both sides. Half of that volley missed, crashing into the pockmarked surfaces of spinning rocks or sub-planetoids.

The torpedo volley fared even worse. Of the six hundred fusion tipped warheads launched, nearly seventy percent struck spinning flotsam, detonating in premature suns. Of the remaining one hundred eighty, only fourteen made it through defensive nets to burst against shields and hulls, the rest being shot down by green laser nets as twelve destroyers died. A light cruiser had the unfortunate fate of drawing the aim of two thermic lance slugs, the munitions burning through shields and hull…then vaporizing under the staggering fire of a battlecruiser's shell.

Four beams of orange particles burned through the belt, barely missing a spinning cluster of ice-rock before beating down the shields of two heavy cruisers. Their hulls glowed, the outer surfaces venting ice and air and unable to hold up to such fearsome firepower. They fired roiling bolts of plasma, hoping to enact revenge on the Blue ships, but failed as eighteen kilogram shells tore through their armor as they attempted to take cover behind another grouping of asteroids.

Supported by the combined might of five battleships, the Seran's continued to bombard with horrid ferocity…especially the lighter ships they faced.

A plasma cruiser group, supported by five light cruisers and fifteen destroyer's burned fast and hard, swinging around a ten mile long asteroid to bring themselves into the flank of the blue fleet. The commanders in charge knew the risks…how deadly Seran ships could be at close range, but the erratic cover and tumbling battlefield gave them a chance not seen otherwise.

Their engines burned a harsh green…almost screaming in protest as the twenty one vessels targeted the grouping around the battleship, Embry. Plasma roiled, a blob targeting the capital ship as the accompanying vessels opened fire with standard shells. The five Light cruisers targeted Port Soro, a cruiser that shuddered and flared under bombardment. Taking three more hits from the destroyers as defenses faltered, her hull opened to space, taking nearly one hundred eighteen crew with her. It was only the intervention of four destroyers that saved her from complete destruction. Embry took the splash of plasma moments later, her shields falling past sixty percent as the ship turned to the threat.

Defensive net alight with flaring blues, her captain delt with the incoming light shells easily as her HoD aperture glowed…then burned a pillar of orange energy at the enemy cruiser…a cruiser that had managed to fire a second roiling ball of vile energy. Ti'vlac shuddered, her shields barely holding…then breaking under the devastating kinetic force of a fifteen kilogram shell. She was fortunate, the slug burning through the lower decks…but still she vented air…becoming a cripple in space. Pulling a rapid turn with two light cruisers as escorts, their crew would survive to fight another day as they flew behind a large asteroid.

A wall of short-range sprint missiles bloomed from the nearby Battlecruiser's, burning harsh as they targeted the Toad ships.

Klor'vian commanders and sub officers…they were determined to enact suffering and revenge for the loss of their people's youngest world. Not only that…but they knew at this point in the war that their class of destroyer was…pathetic. They died en masse…never really more than harassing fire, but that would change today.

Surging forward, the trio of light cruisers and fifteen destroyers jinked, their defensive batteries almost overloaded by the wave of short range missiles coming their way. Three bloomed as warheads struck their shields, becoming floating flotsam and errant shards. The three medium sized ships took heavy hits, becoming flying slag as Embry targeted the closest with her hammer, and killed the bridge crew of one…but they bore on even as they vented air and bodies.

It was a suicide run. The twin battlecruisers Drake and Tilton bloomed in the cataclysm of exploding engines, their fates intertwined with the enemy as their crews died in a silent scream upon impact. Ten destroyers became tumbling girders and pieces of twisted hull, the suicide charge killing thousands. Embry barely managed to survive the last suiciding vessel, but the resulting explosion of a nuclear core going critical ravaged her shields…and shredded her portside armor and hull due to the proximity. Melted and twisted, nearly a fifth of her crew was dead or wounded among the melted breeches that ravaged her length.

Still, the battle raged on, the Coalition using heavier firepower as the fleets tried to bring about the total destruction of the other. Missiles flew, bursting against shields and broken hulls. Lasers burned bright against the vacuum, mixing in with the heavy batteries of HoD fire targeting the enemy as the foe returned fire, claiming and wounding more vessels.

"Admiral! They've…the enemy is purposely crashing into our ships! Embry is heavily damaged! A total of twenty three ships destroyed! Another fifteen damaged!" tactical shouted. The man staggered, the Ashes of Victory taking a trio of shells to her barriers that flared a rippling blue.

"Order Embry to fall back with escorts!" Alya shouted, her voice rising above the klaxons of battlestation's. Watching the tac-com, her gaze darkened as another seventeen destroyers went black…along with a Cruiser and Battlecruiser…all victims of these suiciding savages.

What they did against the defenses of Oceania…the ravaging of her flanks…it was like opening a new door to this hellish war, and the enemy was all too happy to oblige with the carnage.

In her mind…it made a horrible amount of sense. The enemy destroyers were crap, only capable of killing badly wounded ships or gaining up on her own. But if they could each take out one of her vessels…to wound her battleships…

It was a change of Toad tactics, and she didn't like it. "How do they even convince the crews? It's…madness"

A heavy blow against her flagship had the Admiral stumble, the alarms of damage burning among the red lights and glowing blue screens.

"Shields at thirty eight percent!"

"Keep targeting their capital ships! And watch for suicider's!" Pushing toward the majority of the enemy fleet, Carmine cast an eye toward her destroyer squadrons. They had regrouped into three separate clusters to release a second volley of fusion torpedoes, adding the weight of destruction into the savage battle that had descended into ambushing knife range. Supporting longshots burned lances into the hulls of enemy light cruisers, the flaring of shields and melting hulls marred by the ambushing Toad destroyers firing into the Coalition ships.

They would retaliate, a rippling staccato of boomshot's sending short range sprint missiles into the smaller vessels. Defensive lasers burned, trying to shoot down the high speed weapons among the curvature of planetoids. Most were stopped, but some bore through, creating fresh suns that vaporized smaller vessels…slagged silicon and blasted errant ice and oxygen.

Four Klor'vian destroyers burned hard, each an air-streaming wreck of suffering and twisted alloys. Their surviving command knew they had little time…a last ditch effort to kill the vermin ships as they flew toward a damaged Cruiser. Blue lasers blazed, supporting the desperate crew trying to reload her defensive weapons in time. They managed to fire off six…but nowhere near enough to save her. Hoffman cracked, her hull split in half as two Toad destroyers slammed into her already beaten shields…and the three died in a blaze of nuclear sunlight seconds later.

Ashes of Victory's Hammer of Dawn fired, twin beams burning through clouds of ice, cleaving a light cruiser in half, the ship sacrificing itself for a larger Plasma vessel. Roiling green erupted from its aperture, desperate to melt Dreadnaught hull. Carmine's flagship didn't comply, moving behind a spinning rock nearly twice her size as the deadly material splashed against unmined magnesium and palladium.

Mt. Trendil fired, twin beams of destructive light that beat against the enemy flagship, flaring her shields. Delivering a following eighteen kilogram hit, the vessel was spared destruction as the enemy commander slid behind a grouping of asteroids that took the terrible blow. His Heavy Cruiser escorts lay down a terrible barrage of plasma, six roiling bolts of energy that burned through space. Two struck the Battlecruiser, Vessinger, boiling away shields and armor as the ship flared and burned a horrid green. The rest…smashed against the forward bow of Mt. Trendil, eating away her beaten barriers and armor…and killed her bridge crew in a flash. Air and vapor streamed from the vessel, marking her weakness.

"Kill that Dreadnaught! I want it nothing but debris by the time we advance toward their colony!" Bo'klar bellowed with a hideous gash across his brow. Stenches of electrical fires…acrid smoke filled his bridge from the damage his flagship had taken…and the vile smell of blood mixed with loosened bowels.

The high priest was dead, killed by an exploding relay nearby. Another vile act by this enemy. Stepping over the corpse, the fleetmaster had no time to worry about the religious officer.

"Status of the fleet" he asked darkly, wiping the green blood threatening to seep into his brow as he studied the tactical display. He scowled, his throat-sac taking a light red. His ships had moved in to kill the damaged Dreadnaught, but the twin ship…along with escorting Cruisers and Battleships had enacted a heavy price, laying down a massed barrage of orange light, burning thermic shells and standard munitions to save their stricken vessel.

Out of ten light cruisers and thirty destroyers that launched the raid…only eighteen survived to fall back behind a nearby cluster of silicon, leaving dead hulls and diminishing suns. It was a small sense of comfort to the Caliphate that seven more enemy vessels died with that charge, but they were only destroyers. Of course, they damaged many more, but their main goal escaped to the rear despite the slagged mess that was the forward bow.

"We still have the advantage. One hundred fifteen enemy vessels destroyed, another eight three damaged, many heavily. Our own losses are approximately one hundred forty destroyed or damaged."

In terms of attrition…Bo'klar was winning, but it was hardly a way to secure victory. Watching with grim satisfaction as his cruisers supported another destroyer charge into the enemy flank, the smaller ships flared and died under the massed volleys of the enemy…but three smashed through, taking a trio of Coalition Battlecruisers with them in a suicide run.

He hated that his minor subordinates were resorting to such tactics…but in terms of exchange, they were already faring better than previous engagements. While the development of a more survivable vessel would be preferred, he would use them to the most advantageous outcome.

"Make sure we hold behind this asteroid until shields are back online" Bo'klar ordered, his yellow eyes traversing the tac-com display. He grinned…his teeth almost becoming savage as his forces continued to surround…work their way behind the enemy.

If he could encircle them…he could destroy them completely. Or at least, as a fighting force. "Keep up the ambushing strikes…keep them busy and move to encircle them"

"Fleetmaster? Sensors are detecting…probes? Small craft? There are hundreds of them spilling from one of the capital ships"

"Where are they heading?"

"Above the asteroid belt"

"Mines perhaps? A new weapon?" He became distracted, smiling as another four enemy ships blinked out of existence. The battle was too close…he needed to concentrate on winning. Forgetting about the errant probes, his smile became a snarl.

Just a few more minutes…and he could complete his kill as the asteroid belt burned with battle and dying ships.

Admiral Alya Carmine was not stupid. She could see what her counterpart was doing. A shell of fire and ships in all directions…a closing of escape to ensnare the fourth fleet…and the ravaged remnants of the Fifth. She knew Admiral Rojas was dead, the Mt. Trendil was out of the fight as her surviving crew worked to re-establish shields and emergency repairs among the escorts.

In all…it was a good plan. Might have even worked…if not for the launching of craft from Azure Ocean. Located behind the wall of Hammer of Dawn fire of the capital ships, Captain Paduk had flown her well, hiding the fighters and bombers as the rest of the fleet paved the way toward the heart of the enemy.

Fully disgorged, two hundred twenty fighters and eighty bombers burned upward, a high turn arc that left the safety of the fleet behind. This first action was highly risky, the asteroid belt hardly the proper location for such an attack. But…the counter-attack was set. Maneuvering through vacuum, the pilots and bombardiers couldn't anticipate how the Toads would react, but they had a job to do.

"FLEETMASTER! Those…those are small craft! Approaching our rear!" Sensors bellowed, his throat sac growing blue with dread and fear. Bo'klar sneered, more fury rising as the three hundred vessels burned toward his exposed rear.

"SHOOT THEM DOWN! BEFORE THEY RUIN US!" He bellowed, his voice cracking with growing fear. His plan…his victory was unraveling before his eyes. The rear destroyer and light cruiser screen turned haphazardly, trying to bring their weapons to bear as the main fleet continued to fight.

Burning toward the exposed flanks and rear of the enemy fleet among the asteroids, they locked targets on those ships as they re-entered the asteroid belt wedged between the gargantuan curves of two gas giants.

Many noticed the small craft, barely turning in time to bring point defense to bear. Green lasers shot out, a silent sizzle among anti-missile defenses as Klor'vian vessels found themselves facing this new threat from behind. Twenty three fighters and bombers were killed in that opening salvo, their light shields flaring and failing under the power of such weapons as their pilots died in a flash of light.

One hundred fifty 10kg fusion missiles screamed in…followed by another staggered launch of four hundred forty 5kg warheads. Burning away in a downward turn, another seven of the strike craft blew apart from defensive fire and errant anti-missile munitions. But… the attack screamed into unprotected engines, escorting light cruisers, plasma craft…and damaged ships.

It was a devastating strike that carved out a hellish half moon among his forces from the rear. One hundred sixteen destroyers…thirty three light cruisers and two Plasma Cruisers died among fusion suns….many of which had taken multiple hits to ensure complete destruction. Another eighty six vessels were damaged to varying degrees, their shields battered or gone as hulls leaked air and dead crew.

Fleetmaster Bo'klar fell into his command chair…stunned. The Blue fleet had launched…he didn't know. Missilecraft? Fast…nimble…and horribly effective. He had been so consumed by the battle in front of him he had failed to act upon their initial discovery. A dismissal that had cost him dearly.

What had once looked like victory…had been snatched away.

"Almost half…half of my total ships…gone. Because of my failure to act" He stood, his ship firing at an enemy vessel…but the damage had been done. The majority of his larger vessels were damaged or simply…gone. Even if he continued to fight, his destroyer forces would just become target practice. And he would not order them into a futile suicide run for no gain.

The holo display showed the nimble little craft, their icons already out of range of his ships…and turning for another attack run. No doubt to bring about another hellish loss with the support of the enemy fleet…a fleet that flew barely three hundred effectives at this point.

Bo'klar snapped his gaze to the colony…and felt a hollow pit in his stomach. His own ship totals…he couldn't win…not anymore.

His voice cracked…barely audible over the stunned silence of the bridge. "Order all vessels to…retreat. Fall back to the swamp world we've liberated" Retaking his command chair, the fleetmaster felt his ship vibrate, taking another blow as the hull shuddered. The engines surged…glowing green before jumping to light speed, his fleet following in his wake to try and…salvage some sort of defense in the Convel system.

Including the ships taking part in the bombardment of Oceania, only four hundred seventy eight Klor'vian vessels managed to escape to F.T.L, leaving the vulnerable transports and ground forces alone.

Alya Carmine breathed deep…a harsh motion that betrayed her relief. Looking toward tactical, her voice carried…a stunned realization. "Status of enemy forces?"

"Gone ma'am. The Toads have…retreated"

They had won…they had finally stopped the bastards. But the battle wasn't done. "Full speed to the colony. All damaged ships to the yards" Taking her seat, she could fell how…bloody this victory had been. Out of her initial six hundred ships, nearly a full third were destroyed…another one hundred twelve damaged. None of the dreadnaughts or battleships had come through unscathed, including her own flagship that sported fresh scars along the hull…a very bloody day indeed.

Her gaze passed to the holographic image of Oceania…the millions no doubt dead at this time. Alya could only imagine the hell her husband and son were going through on the surface. "As soon as we clear the gravity fields, I want slip-space drives to the planet. Who knows how bad it's gotten"

Oceania. Basill Archipelago (Thirty miles from Basillburg)

Colonel Nathan Carmine crouched down behind an abandoned vehicle across the hi-way, a hasty barricade if he ever saw one. Toad bullets ripped into the cover, shattering glass and sparking off metals as several Gears returned fire into the charging mass of aliens. Popping up himself, the soldier shot down two of the beasts, spilling green blood along the paved roadway.

Machine guns hammered, tearing into the monsters like falling pins as arms and legs severed from the hail of lead. A gear screamed, flailed by bursting shrapnel as another pitched backwards, her head gone.

"FIFTH BRIGADE! WE MUST HOLD THEM! FIGHT THEM HAND TO HAND IF YOU HAVE TO!" Nathan screamed out. Deftly reloading, his heart bled for his son….his son Trent had fallen just minutes ago, killed by these monsters that waged genocidal war on their people.

Rippling gunfire grew harsher, the snarling amphibians surging along Basilago Island's main artery of transport and travel.

He didn't even have time to cry…or mourn and scream. Not when the rest of the 54th Division was behind them, hastily erecting defenses and fortifying Basillburg.

Nearly seven hundred thirty thousand Serans called this archipelago home, and it was only dumb luck that the bombarding fleet had bugged out half an hour before, giving much needed time to evacuate to the northern city of the island chain.

He suspected his wife had something to do with that.

The harsh stink of cordite among the report of nearby tanks jarred his teeth, the shot tearing down the front ranks of enemy in a tear of flesh and fire.

Roars of combat came from the rising hills to his left and right, the valley walls quickly bracketed by ridges of extinct volcanoes. The jungles were dense…thick with foliage and would make combat among the vegetation impossible.

Tracers flew out of them…snapping through leaves and cracking against trunks as the Gears and Toads met each other in ferocious battle. Screams and guttural yells of pain echoed, mixing in with the horror. Nearby yells and painful cries of terror snapped his vision left to the far edge of the hi-way.

His Gears…they were being over-run. Killed without mercy as the Toad numbers started to bring their own weight.

He shot three of them dead, shouting at nearby Gears to plug the hole. It was short…and brutal work that left dead on both sides. But it wouldn't be enough to stop the invasion army.

He commanded five thousand troops…a single brigade going up against nearly forty five thousand Toad soldiers. An enemy that would no doubt sweep his command aside in the coming hour…and push toward Basillburg to kill every man, woman and child.

The 54th would fight…militia forces and families would fight…but by the end, the streets would run red with blood and genocide.

Communications burst to life, adding to the noise of his failing defense as his troops fought…and died. One of his tanks was burning, aliens managing to reach the machine and throw grenades into the vulnerable vents to kill and ruin.

"To all Coalition forces. This is Admiral Carmine. The enemy fleet has been defeated. We will provide orbital supporting fire to any forces upon request"

Nathan blind fired over the hood of the wrecked car, the picked himself up and fell back to the next available cover…which turned out to be the wreck of another civilian vehicle ravaged from metal burns. Gunfire snapped, pinged and zipped across the hi-way as his forces slowly fell back…and the Toads surged forward to kill more of his brave troops.

By the sounds of it, they were pushing through the jungles and hills to his left and right, slowly encircling to bring death upon them all. Bullets came from the jungle to the far left, an enfilading fire that killed another five of his Gears in as many seconds.

A toad soldier charged at him from the front, screaming some guttural words that he couldn't translate…nor care to. The bayonet glistened with red, meaning this alien had killed. Stabbing forward, Nathan dodged…then flipped the switch of his lancer. Teeth spun and screamed, eager for flesh as he plunged the weapon into the meat between the shoulder and neck. Green blood splattered…gore flew as the monster screamed, but all Nathan could feel was satisfaction.

Kicking away the corpse, the colonel opened fire on three more charging beasts, killing them…but more came on to face his brigade.

The defense was crumbling…and if they broke and ran, all it would do is show their backs to the enemy. Colonel Carmine knew what he had to do. Ducking behind another wreck with three other Gears, he could barely hear his own words as they fired, a staccato of gunfire and war that seemed to never end.

"Alya…Target my position"

"Nathan? Is that you? Is Trent there?"

He wanted to lie…to tell his wife…the mother of his children that everything was fine, but it would be an insult to her intelligence…to her entire being.

"Trent's KIA. And my brigade is minutes away from being overwhelmed and destroyed. You nee—" An explosion burst nearby, howling screams of dead aliens mixing in with the cries of Gears…then was promptly silenced.

The Toads didn't take any prisoners.

"YOU NEED TO FIRE THE HAMMER! SEVEN HUNDRED THOUSAND LIVES WILL BE SAVED!" He screamed into the radio, frustrated as he returned fire into the mass of bodies. He wouldn't even get to see her one last time.

"I…understand. Nathan…I…"

"I love you too" he said into the comm piece, then promptly closed the channel. Leaning out, he fired at another toad, the greenish-orange alien pitching forward in a spray of ichor.

"MAKE THEM BLEED, GEARS! MAKE THEM FEAR OUR PEOPLE!" he howled over the local net. Throwing a grenade then opening fire with his snub-tok, he moved forward with a grouping of Gears, killing the hated enemy in a fury of bullets and carnage. Chainsaws ripped through flesh…throats took bayonets and bodies ripped apart under the swirling madness of hell as the two forces killed each other without mercy.

Alya Carmine pushed the weapons officer away, her face morose and drawn. She had just won a victory in space…but was about to lose much more. Trent…her eldest was dead, and her husband was minutes away, defending a narrow pass wedged in the valley of two mountains.

And if she didn't fire…hundreds of thousands of innocent Serans would die. It didn't take long for Ashes of Victory to bepointed downward toward Basilago, targeting of the Toad army complete. Yes…there were other armies and divisions already landed across this half of the planet, but none threatened such a heavy population center as this.

Other ships were already dealing with them, bombarding concentrations and their transports into ash and scrap. But this…she had to kill the love of her life…to secure this world…and save thousands.

"Goodbye…my love" Alya whispered as she input the command and fired the Hammer of Dawn, the twin beams of harsh light burning downward toward the planet.

They crashed into the contested valley moments later, burning away plantlife…turning human and toad to ash as the invading army became a decimated shell under the roiling firestorm that spread outward by several miles. Washing over corpses and living beings, it was a horrible act to visit upon their own people…their own soldiers as they died among the heat and fire.

But…the intended outcome was achieved. Of the forty five thousand Klor'vian troops marching and attacking down the narrow valley front, only four hundred twenty six burned, shattered, and broken survivors remained after the hellish orbital bombardment.

In the coming days, they would be captured, vital for intelligence, but for now…the valley burned with the billowing ashes of the dead.

Admiral Alya Carmine stepped away, the horrible day of death and battle drawing to an end. Barely keeping her voice level, her hand trembled at what she had just done. "Order…order the third squadron to establish a picket line around the system. Any civilian craft are to assist in rescue and recovery at the outer belt"

Turning abruptly, the admiral left the bridge, making a harsh beeline for her private quarters to attempt…a moment of solace after her personal loss of husband and child.

Sera. New Ephyra. 4th of Frost 421 A.E.

Chairman Diaz found herself spending more time in the bunker below the collection of government buildings of the capital than her actual office. Production reports, recruitment and the building up of their military. The ever present sword of extinction hanging over her head.

At least that captured cruiser had several dozen living crew members for interrogation. While the progress had been slow, intelligence had finally given her a proper name for humanities newest enemy.

The Klor'vian Caliphate. Unfortunately, that was all naval intelligence had gleaned for now…and she wouldn't push them or ask how they learned that. After all, the general rules of conduct against torture didn't include genocidal toad monsters.

Her mind was wandering, assaulted by worry and tens of millions of war dead across the Coalition. Frankly…the stress was awful. If it wasn't for her secretary, Diaz would probably forget to sleep and eat. Blinking heavily with darker patches of fatigue below her eyes, Diaz took a long breath to clear her mind as the assembled officers and officials mumbled and whispered.

The news from Admiral Carmine and Oceania was a doubled edged sword of victory…and terrible losses. Over thirteen million dead across the colony. Whole cities nothing but scorched craters and ruin while some communities had been swept away by tidal waves. The combined command of the 4th fleet and accompanying elements of the 5th had suffered nearly fifty percent casualties in terms of lost or damaged ships, the death toll among naval forces in the thousands.

She didn't even want to think of the personal sacrifice Admiral Carmine had preformed to ensure the safety of countless Serans. But…they had held. Not only that, but their first carrier had performed excellent, giving a dreadful surprise to the Toads who fled in full retreat.

"Lord Stratton. How is the build-up of the 1st and 3rd fleets progressing? And what options does the Klor'vian retreat open up for us?"

The tall, dark skinned man cleared his throat, rising as he took the position of speaker. Working the controls of the holographic display, he revealed current assets available across the Coalition.

"Currently, the 1st and 3rd fleets have amassed a total of six hundred ships each from our wartime industry footing. While a majority of those new vessels are Destroyers and BattleCruisers, there are some Cruisers mixed in as well. The Osprey is nearing the final days of construction at Avengad. She'll be joining one hundred twenty new vessels as reinforcements for the 2nd Fleet once the crews are assigned. Belpharus Bay is still five weeks away from completion, but the Kuat shipyards of Reach have been working at full production since day one. Three hundred thirteen vessels of assorted classes are in the process of training and shakedowns there, which is almost a full fleet already" Stratton paused, clearing his throat and taking a drink of water before continuing. "The Battleships, Dreadnaughts, and the Monitors are still under construction. At the earliest, Fenix, Brandton, and Perennial won't be finished until after the new year. The Dreadnaughts are another four month's and the first Monitors won't be ready until early summer of next year"

Lord Stratton then worked the controls of the table mounted holographic display, showing two areas of Coalition space. Oceania and Prescott. Highlighting the system of the recent victory, the male officer's tone carried to all.

"Currently, Admiral Carmine has absorbed the remnants of the 5th fleet into her own. With Admiral Rojas dead, it makes sense to combine into a singular command…especially with how gutted the 5th is. She's established pickets around the system, but for the most part, her fleet is heavily damaged and is concentrating on repairs in case of a counter-attack" He zoomed in on an empty system, nearly two hundred light years from Prescott.

"Latest updates have Rear Admiral Trescu of the 5th fleet's remnants along with the 2nd fleet fighting a delaying retreat, but they are heavily outnumbered. Given the Caliphates speed, aggression, and numerical advantage, they'll reach the Prescott system in six to eight days"

Gaze falling on Chairman Diaz, he promptly leaned forward to emphasize his words. "Chairman. We need to counter-attack and push these monsters from our territory. Half their front is on the verge of collapse while the other can't possibly reach further than the colony of Prescott! We have the transports to move armies to the occupied systems and liberate the survivors. The more we hurt them now, the easier our war will be once we take the fight to them!"

Diaz breathed deeply, the weight of overall command bearing down on her shoulders. Placing her elbows on the table before her, she entwined her fingers as she studied the map. "Do it. But as soon as the 3rd Fleet joins up with our other ships at Prescott, I want the 5th pulled out of combat. Send them to Reach for rest and refit…they've done enough. The 1st will work with the 4th in liberating Convel and other systems to our north" She breathed deeply, more fatigue gripping her mind. Izabel needed sleep, but one last thing needed to be said. "This counter attack is to liberate our territory. We don't have the means or intelligence to wage a full invasion of the Klor'vian Caliphate. At least, not yet. Make sure to remind our forces of that…we got lucky with Carmine's raid and we can't risk such a maneuver right now"

"Understood"

The assembled men and women stood, surging to carry out the latest aspects of the war as Diaz slowly rubbed her temples…knowing that the killing and dying were far from over.

Tenvor'ti. High Temple of Klorta. 11th of Frost 421 A.E.

The Supreme Priest, A'til Y'larv…boiled with rage. Clenching the data pad presented to him by the cowering Lord of Ships, he was severely tempted to have all the officers present executed. Not only had the news been catastrophic, but some low level officer had sat on the vital news for days, fearing that it would displease the church and him.

In a sense…that now dead communications officer and his executed team had been correct. It did displease him and the church…immensely. He growled, fantasizing about making the assembled beings beg for the forgiveness of their god and creator before execution.

After all, that's what he did to the surviving officers that fled the ruins of Bo'link. None saw another sunrise, his rage at their failure to protect that world almost nuclear. Sending the home fleet to assess the devastation, his belief to execute the fleeing officers was correct.

Lips curling at the loss of his subjects, he had been horrified by the sheer…destruction these vermin visited upon his people's colony. All manners of weapons and orbital fire were used without a care or preservation of life, a true revelation of the Blue's disregard for their god and species.

Swathed in his elegant robes of silks and gems, he had been in the middle of his morning prayers when they had presented him with this latest…tragedy…a full week late. The third and fourth fleets under Fleetmaster Bo'klar had been…decimated. What had once been prideful strength of their military might, numbering over sixteen hundred ships, was now a mere shell after months of combat operations.

His first instinct was to have the Fleetmaster brought to him…and promptly shot. But he was all that stood between the vermin ships and losing their newest world…a planet of swamps, bayous and inlets.

The fact that it still crawled with the infestation was no matter, they would be crushed in time.

"That was another issue of his report…the total loss of invasion forces. He had no time to regroup and extract them from the latest world destined for liberation"

A'til couldn't recall a moment in history of such a horrid loss. Especially when fighting an inferior race. He turned to the towering statue of their god, its ancient visage giving him comfort as the priest took a knee and bowed, calming his ire and fury.

"Klorta…is…is this new foe a test?"

Silence.

None of his guards moved, nor any of the officers fearing for their lives as they kept their gazes pointed to the rough stonework. But it was enough for A'til Y'larv.

"Yes…we have grown complacent with easy victories of the past…arrogant and fat with ease" He rose, the rustling of his robes an afterthought. Turning with the data pad clasped behind his back, the High priest still…glowered at the Lord of Ships. He would have the church watching his office, a measure to ensure such…errors never reoccurred.

It was a sickening train of thought, but the differences in ship quality…weapons…the size of territory with no signs of the vermin homeworld…he had no choice. Not if his species were to eradicate this infestation and free those poor planets filled with life. They needed to rebuild…develop better weapons and vessels in order to carry out the righteousness of their liberation.

"Order the first and second fleets to relieve Fleetmaster Bo'klar. He is to oversee the restructuring and rebuilding of his fleet at Senili'ki"

The Supreme Priest paused, his gaze almost as deadly as death itself as it fell on one of the officers. "Consolidate ground forces as well. The casualty rate among our brave warriors has been heavy from my understanding. Also…" He nodded, an internal monologue playing within his mind. "Start development for a suicide corvette class to exterminate the vermin. I'm sure many of our people would love the chance for vengeance against their blight and to please our god"

He had been pleased and impressed with those naval officers, willing to sacrifice themselves to exterminate the vermin. The fact it showed promising results despite the retreat begged for further development.

The Lord of Ships cleared his throat, yellow eyes pointing downward as his throat sac betrayed a fearsome blue. "Supreme Priest…Fleetmaster Ki'nav of the 2nd Fleet sent word before you requested our dutiful presence. He has located another vermin controlled world. While it is colder, he intends to carry out the word of Klorta against the abominations. He…he has assured us that the enemy is nearing collapse from constant combat and retreat"

A'til Y'larv stared for a moment at the cowering officer, his breathing slits soaking in the humid air of the temple. "Have him proceed. Once the world is rendered cleansed, he is to take his forces to relieve Bo'klar…emphasize my desire for haste"

Waving them away, the priest with skin of almost emerald green heard their shuffling feet, rampant with fear and escape. Closing his eyes once more, the verticle lids stayed shut as the priest prayed to his god for guidance.

Not once did the prospect of co-existence cross his mind. After all, his people were the only sentient species allowed to exist.

Prescott System. 11th of Frost 421 A.E.

"Shields at thirteen percent, sir!"

Sparks flew from an overload, bucking with the ship as another enemy shell stuck the Ganil Sea. A crewman bellowed in pain, fresh electrical burns across her left arm from a nearby station, but she stood fast and pushed through the fresh agony to perform her duty.

The Hammer of Dawn fired, working in tandem as the flagship of the 2nd fleet, Ostri lent her own pillars of fire. Three beams of super heated particle energy smashed into one of the hated Plasma cruisers, ripping the enemy vessel in half over the contested world.

Space flared over the curvature of Prescott, the tundra planet the latest colony to see the horror of war. Tattered remnants of the fifth fleet in conjunction with the 2nd had counter-attacked after initially losing the system an hour before to the Toad's.

Weeks of falling back…ambushes and retreat. They had punished the alien bastards, destroying or damaging nearly two hundred twenty vessels among dead systems…the belts and abandoned mining operations that stretched across the Coalition.

But every fight…every engagement saw their numbers fall as well. Yes, they received a handful of reinforcements, but constant retreat was…demoralizing. Then, of course. Taking into account that at their height, humanity's fleets were still outnumbered by at least two to one….almost by three times. Combat was often, short, brutal, and deadly.

Then the Toad's had found Prescott. A colony with over forty million people living on the surface. Coalition ships had sprung on the invader's from the roiling clouds of the outer gas giants…but they came on in a wave. Staggering walls of mass accelerated fire…melting plasma that ate through the armor and hull of Talon, a cruiser that broke apart…but not before her boomshot munitions ripped apart three enemy destroyers.

Pushed into retreat after retreat, they fell back to the far edge of the system to conduct emergency repairs. An action that gave the Toads a full hour to begin attacking the planet.

"Target their flagships!" Trescu uttered in guttural hatred, his own vessel pointing downward in a wide V-wedge that angled parallel to the colony hanging in the velvet of space. The spectrum of light from the star was a crimson red, bathing the mere three hundred eighty two vessels in harsh light as they surged past the single moon.

So many had to retreat to Anvengad, their damage horrifying as some had to be towed by other vessels barely capable of slip space.

Trescu could see at least one hundred enemy ships encircling the planet, bombarding…burning cities and their people under orbital death as the remaining eleven hundred pushed upward. Intercepted transmissions from the Toads were abundantly clear…they were already invading, paving a wave of destruction and genocide as their armies landed across two of the continents to slaughter the inhabitants.

Pillars of light burned across the closing space, supported by lances of thermic shells, fusion torpedoes and standard slugs. Burning arcs of defensive lights sprung from the enemy fleet, springing to meet the munitions even as they fired their own heavy salvo.

Coalition batteries of blue lights sprung to life, racing to meet the slugs traveling at one percent light speed.

Shields flared…armors cracked and hulls splintered on both sides as beings were suctioned into the harsh vacuum of space. Fusion suns burned…killing nearly thirty enemy destroyers and three light cruisers as their defenses were beat down…but numbers favored the Toads.

Seventeen Seran destroyers broke under the fire, their hulls a horrid tangle of scrap and ruin…if they even survived at all. A trio of Battlecruisers became ravaged husks, their armors melted to slag while the Halecon almost broke in half…with nearly eleven hundred dead out of nineteen hundred crew. The Battleship Augustus shuddered as her shields fell, paving the way for tears of damage along her starboard hull. But she managed to fire once more, a double punch that killed a light cruiser.

Ganil Sea took another few hit's, her defensive net unable to stop everything coming her way. Pitching under a stagger for a moment, Trescu was slammed against his seat before regaining his bearings. "Shields at three percent, Sir!"

"FIRE AGAIN! WE WILL NOT ABANDON THIS WORLD!"

The aperture glowed, the energy building again as her main weapon prepared to fire at the enemy flagship. A surge or particles erupted seconds later, followed by a 15kg shell that ripped through an intersecting light cruiser, her engine room blooming in a ball of nuclear fire.

Trescu glowered, cursing the smaller vessel sacrificing itself for the flagship that was supposed to die instead.

The female technician at sensors stirred, the white hair of the Dragneel family an odd mixture of red under the blinking of battle lights and the pulsing warmth of the distant star. Brushing sweat drenched bangs away from her eyes mixed with the trickles of seeping cuts, her eyes widened.

"SIR! I'm detecting over six hundred slip space signatures! They're…coming from six hundred thousand miles to starboard! Past the moon! It's…IT'S THE THIRD FLEET! They're moving to engage the Toad's flank!"

"Thank the Allfathers…" Trescu whispered, his voice lost among the klaxons. Ganil Sea rocked, another hit dropping her flickering shields as the enemy shells tore away outer armor, creating a harsh scar along the battleship's port side that flickered with slag and sparking conduits. Crewmen were sucked into the vacuum, silent screams betrayed as the battleship fired again.

---

"NO! At my cusp of glory! The Vermin dare to bait me!" Ki'nav roared out, his normally grayish green scales trembling with…rage. His throat sac, which had been a pleased emerald, had switched to a horrid red, marking his fury.

His right flank, what had been outside of the beaten and tired vermin ships range, were suddenly under attack. A wave of torpedoes was racing in, followed by lances of thermic light and particle beams fired from the newly emerged six hundred vessels.

Defensive nets flared, green lasers burning as they tried to shoot down the sudden…and rapidly enclosing Blueships. Hundreds of shells and torpedoes were intercepted, flaring out with a bare whimper between the two groups…but the surprise emergence had been overwhelming.

Of nearly five hundred fusion torpedoes launched from the destroyers, sixty eight managed to break through the flaring defenses, colliding with enemy light cruisers and destroyers. Shields vaporized under the split second detonations, melting and splintering armor among those terrible artificial suns. Forty three Klor'vian destroyers became spreading embers of metals and vaporized corpses. Another twenty five vessels were slagged wrecks of twisted and broken hulls…wrecks that quickly fell to thermic fire and incoming Seran shells that finished the job.

Fleetmaster Ki'nav seethed with rage. His first instinct was to attack…to wage war upon these new vessels…to make them burn over their world. But…even as he watched…the fresh fleet moved closer, raising a horrible wall of fire that his lighter ships had no business facing. Gripping the hand-rest of his command chair, Ki'nav could feel his nails digging into the materials as his outer flanks turned to wage a fresh battle.

His teeth bared, a voice of nightmarish death leaving his lips as another twelve of his vessels became spinning slag. Two burning beams grazed his ship, the power punching down the shields as the light flickered above.

The orders of the Supreme Priest still rung fresh in his mind, an order he thought impossible…but he would serve the church without question. Taking one last glance at the nearby tactical display, even he could see the situation was…untenable. The over-extended supply lines…the constant loss of ships…the differences in firepower and quality.

"To think…Bo'klar was defeated mere days ago…in full retreat with his fleet barely a shell of itself. If we are to win…"

"Retreat…Order all vessels to retreat" The order tasted like ashes in his mouth.

"Fleetmaster? What about the invasion ships? Our ground forces?" a lowly technician asked, his eyes lowered with proper respect.

"They are doomed. If we stay to assist, the vermin fleets will combine to defeat us. The retreat is a direct order from A'til Y'larv…now carry it out" he ordered, his voice falling darkly dangerous as the bridge crew nodded. Fresh orders were transmitted to the fleet, many of them under constant attack as they began to feel the desperation.

The Toads…their ships began to enter FTL…the possibility of victory gone. Surging engines glowed green, pushing the vessels out of combat as the ships abandoned the battle, leaving the invasion transports undefended…and unsupported.

A pipe had burst, disgorging humid steam into the bridge that wafted around their fleet. Trescu could feel how damp his uniform had gotten, the constant fear of sweat soaking his armpits along with the sauna level heat. He turned to tactical, eyes burning with questions. "Did they retreat? Or make a short jump to the edge of the system?"

"They're…gone sir. The only enemy forces left are groundside"

Adrian Trescu said nothing, his mind still reeling from days and weeks of constant combat and retreat.

Another relay sparked above, showering a blown console nearby. The state of his ship was more pressing now, and repairs would need to be conducted. Especially if the enemy decided to change their mind.

He didn't even need to give the order…his crew knew what to do between fights.

Communications buzzed with purpose a few minutes later, shuttled to the holo display nearby as a technician wiped away the terror sweat of combat. "Sir. It's Admiral Ikeda of the 3rd Fleet"

Trescu gave a curt nod, slowly standing as the visage of his counterpart appeared. Like Admiral Carmine, Akari Ikeda was a beautiful woman with almond, green eyes and raven black hair. A soft chin, lips and cheekbones added to her beauty. While nearly ten years older than Alya, she was very competent at her job.

"Adrian. I'll be taking overall command of this front. Your new orders are to retreat to Reach for some much needed rest and refit. The 2nd Fleet will stay for the moment, assisting with the ground invasion" He studied Akari's face, seeing the soaring morale dancing in her eyes as she brushed a few errant strands away.

"Understood Akari"

His counterpart gave a small nod, closing the channel as Trescu slumped in his command chair, exhaustion pulling at his eyes. "Order all ships of the 5th fleet to make way to Reach. Tow any that are too damaged to fly themselves"

"Yes sir"

The next few minutes had the seventy three remaining vessels of the fifth…a full third damaged to horrible extents, breaking away from their comrades to begin the long journey south. Slagged hulls melted and cracked…flaring spills of frozen water and vapors…some areas of vessels glowing a white hot from the carnage. They limped away into slipspace, leaving the freshly arrived 3rd fleet to guard the invasion transports as they made their way to the tundra planet below.

Prescott 24th of Frost 421 A.E.

Y'til Tren'vat hated this world. No…he despised it. He hated that despite the bombardment two weeks ago, only a quarter of the colony was exterminated. He hated that they were abandoned…left to face not only the soldiers of this race, but constant bombardment from space and local aircraft. By Klorta…even the artillery was taking a toll on the already crushed morale of his fellow warriors.

A gust of wind cut through the ruins of this nameless city, whistling harsh…and freezing. Y'til felt his scales shiver, the air almost hurting to breathe as frozen flakes fell from the sky between gusts of winter.

His species had evolved on a humid swamp world. Yes, there were ice caps…colder areas that were sparsely populated. But this place…it was like a frozen hell of ice and stinging wind. A world they would never colonize…yet they still had to exterminate the locals. He gave a sidelong glance at the other warrior with him, the youth of his scales betraying his age of eighteen years.

Practically a hatchling still, swathed in some tattered blanket that gave a false semblance to keep out the freezing air.

Tren'vat didn't even know the young warrior's name. Just some random soldier that had been dragged into this portion of the line…who knew what unit he was from.

Movement…a form hunched over and racing to a distant pile of rubble across the wide boulevard. He pressed the rifle to his shoulder, breathing blasts of air inside the destroyed shop. The building he inhabited was half collapsed, a form of some eatery if he had to guess…not that it mattered.

The initial bombardment…then their attack and retreat had thoroughly wrecked this city. Frozen corpses of this vermin race…along with fallen comrades were half buried under the snow, mixed with the wrecks of vehicles and fallen buildings creating chokepoints in the rubble.

More huddled forms disappeared in the swirling snow, moving closer. Tren'vat fired, the crack of his rifle ringing out of the desolation.

It was like an alarm as both sides opened up along the ravaged line, the snapping of rounds and bullets flying among the snow.

"BLUE'S! WE NEED TO KILL THEM ALL!" Y'til screamed out as he fired again. He didn't know why he shouted that. It's not like they could stop the vermin anyway. They were outnumbered…outgunned, cold, and running out of supplies by the day. He didn't even know how many pockets of their soldiers were left…but it wasn't many.

A round took the younger warrior in the eye, exploding part of the head in a spray of matter as he was too slow to duck down.

Y'til didn't even care as he fired again, a small grim satisfaction gracing his chapped lips as one of the helmeted soldiers pitched backwards, spilling red across the frozen roadway as the alien thrashed and screamed. He ducked down to reload, slapping in a fresh box of ammunition as bullets cracked the air above.

It was his second to last magazine of ammunitioin, and he had no idea when he would get more. Grunting with hatred as one of his nearby comrades screamed, Y'til popped up to fire again. It was a lucky shot, blowing apart the head of another…but there were too many surging forward as tracers and bullets flew. He fired again, missing as three Blue soldiers surged toward his battered position. One leaped over the broken sill, the blue lights of its armor and helmet giving a strange glow. Y'til shot again, hitting the sub creature in the side as it howled and staggered.

"FOR MY PEOPLE! I WILL TAKE YOU TO THE UNDERWORLD, VERMIN!" He stabbed forward with his attached bayonet, sliding the blade into the vulnerable neck joint, creating a guttural sound before wrenching the sharpened weapon free with a spray of crimson blood.

The horrible nightmare sounds of those chainsaws made him roll to his left, crashing into a tipped chair as he raised his rifle in one fluid motion. Firing again, the bullet slammed into the second alien's chestpiece…but didn't kill it.

A burst of rounds tore through Tren'vat's simple armor, spilling his green blood across the ruined café and whisps of snow. Collapsing on his stomach, all he could feel was… searing pain. Spotting his rifle nearby, the Klor'vian soldier tried to crawl to the weapon in a final, desperate bid to survive.

The third Gear stepped forward, a female that had just seen one of her friends die from this monster. Revving up her chainsaw, Corporal Mandy Triggart plunged it into the back of the beast, creating a howl of pain, agony, and splashing gore. Wrenching it free, the woman's hidden face matched the hatred in her heart for these abomination's.

Three more Gears stepped through the broken store window, its rubble a small shelf in itself. One stooped, gathering the fallen Gear's tags before standing up. "Keep the attack moving. This is one of the last division sized pockets still holding out…another three days of fighting and they'll collapse completely"

"Sir!" The Gears moved through the ruined cafe, leaving the cooling corpse of Y'til Tren'vat in their wake, the sounds of war a constant noise among the frozen ruins as the Coalition began the first steps of liberating their territory.

Convel System 3rd of Sorrow 421 A.E.

Fleetmaster Bo'klar was at the desk in his personal quarters…reeling from what he had just watched. The humid air had taken on a chill…a fresh horror as he clutched his ridges with his palms. Nevermind that the 1st and 2nd Fleet's were still three days away…or that his command comprised a meager four hundred twenty eight ships…many with hasty repairs as they held station over this embattled swamp world.

Fresh transports had arrived…a meager three with raw troops for the seeping wound of hellish ground combat this world entailed. The ravaged warrior formations…those that had been here for months…some were mere shells of themselves that had boarded those relief ships, thankful to just be alive.

He had asked some of the ground force commanders to scour historical or cultural data from this colony…anything to help understand their way of thinking…to find weaknesses.

They had found some…and this species…

"We…we have made a grave mistake…" he whispered in a harsh croak, the darkness of his quarters hiding the distress across his amphibian features.

Bo'klar couldn't understand most of the words…or read the texts, but he could watch the old video files…files of an apocalyptic war that took place on the assumed homeworld of this enemy…the Seran's. A war of genocide against…unholy monsters. Beings he couldn't fathom…nor imagined could ever exist.

And these Seran's…they won that war…they rebuilt…and then his people attacked them. Disturbed their peace.

From what he could gather, this species had almost gone extinct fighting those…subterranean's? He couldn't understand what those gray skinned beings were called, but the images would haunt him for days. The sheer…viciousness. The fleetmaster had no doubt. His people were likely being compared to those now extinct abominations, and the Serans… "They'll exterminate us for what we've done…and the only way to persevere our species now is to kill them first"

In Bo'klar's eyes…this wasn't a war to please their god and church…to protect vulnerable worlds from the rampant pollution of other races. This would be a war for survival.

He had already sent the extent of historical data to the homeworld, hoping that some understanding would be gleaned, but…the attitudes of the church and the populace…their sheer arrogance for easy victory…

Alarms blared, a harsh warbling of klaxon's. Bo'klar surged to his feet, the truth of his enemy's past momentarily forgotten. Racing into the adjoining corridor, it was a short journey to the bridge as crew hurried to battle-station's under the bathing lights and blaring alarms.

"Report!" He snapped in stride, his leathers and harness showing his status to all. Approaching the holo-table displaying the conquered system, he could take a horrible guess what was wrong.

"Fleetmaster! I'm detecting over nine hundred spatial ruptures! Six hundred are approximately one million miles away from the planet. The others have appeared near the ringed gas planet!" the technician input a flurry of commands, clawed fingers clacking as more data came from the combined sensors of their remaining vessels. "Possible transports with the smaller fleet…the six hundred are rapidly moving to close weapons range!"

The option was obvious. If he even attempted to fight…his remaining vessels would be beaten into orbiting debris and frozen corpses.

"Send an emergency message to Fleetmaster Ki'nav! Inform him that this system is already lost! We must make a full retreat now if we are to counter-attack in the future!" Stabbing a finger at the pilot station, his voice barked with desperate anger. "Retreat! A full journey to our territory! If any ground forces are able to extract themselves, they need to do it now!"

The remnants of his two fleets began to turn, breaking from the planet as those three lonely transports were the only ones even close to make the long journey home. Engines began to glow…a sickly green as their escape would be desperately close.

The Seran's were already attacking…launching those damned strike-craft and swarms of torpedoes that raced before a massed driver onslaught.

Bo'klar's ships managed to escape…by mere moments as their FTL drives pushed them out of the star system by a razor's edge of time. Another two seconds and that massed volley would have torn them apart.

Admiral Alya Carmine had watched dispassionately, sensors revealing the rapid retreat of Klor'vian forces as her fleet kept vigil around the dozen transports carrying the 19th army. The initial plan had been simple. The 1st fleet would destroy the enemy, and she would move in to protect the liberation forces.

"Didn't expect them to cut and run so…easily" Crossing her legs, she sat calmly in her command chair, but was annoyed as well. She wanted these things to die…to be crushed into extinction…not to escape unscathed. But…the reconquest of Convel was the priority. Liberating Coalition territory had to come first before they could take the war to these monsters.

"Make way to the colony. Once we're in orbit, the army can do their thing" Smoothing her uniform, it would take nearly an hour to reach Convel using sublight…adequate time for Admiral Hendrik to establish communications with surviving Gears and civilians.

Still…Alya had no illusion how brutal eliminating this scourge from Convel…Oasis…Blaze and Aspho would be. They fought to the death…to the last, knowing that no relief or rescue was coming. Securing Prescott had taken over two weeks…and pushed the death toll toward a staggering one hundred million across Coalition space.

For the first time, they were on the offensive, pushing against the collapsing Klor'vian front. But this war…it wasn't over…not by a longshot.

Slip-space. Twenty three light years from Reach. 7th of Rise. 422 A.E.

"It's been nearly one year since war came for our people. A war caused by the madness of the Klor'vian Caliphate. A race of genocidal, religious environmentalists that have eliminated four…FOUR sentient races! We are meant to be the fifth! We are…vermin in their eyes! Not even worthy to live! They seek to 'liberate' our worlds to save them from environmental damage…a cause of pure madness!"

Chairman Diaz paused, then slammed a fist upon the podium in Centennial Square as the skyline of New Ephyra graced the background. "Our cause is just! Not only for ourselves, but for those young races brutally exterminated under the guise of the Caliphates sick gods! As we speak, our fleets and armies surge with renewed numbers and strength! Rebuilt with faster engines…New Dreadnaughts and Carriers! Our first Monitors to wage war against these abominations! Admiral Adrian Trescu of the 5th fleet now wield's nearly one thousand vessels! The hero of Oceania, Admiral Alya Carmine of the 4th has taken command of her new flagship, Anvil Gate! These are the men and women that will take the war to the enemy…to ensure that the Coalition…that humanity Will emerge victorious!"

Adrian Trescu turned off the monitor in his quarters, the rhetoric a little too much for him. Politicians loved speeches, but it was hardly needed. Every Seran now knew of the genocidal horrors the Toads had planned for them. Frankly, when their language had been cracked and deciphered during the spring…the captured enemy had almost been happy to posture and threaten how humanity would be crushed into oblivion like all those younger, extinct races.

All it did was harden the Coalitions resolve.

Leaning back in his bed, Adrian looked out the nearby window at the stream of blues and purples…a familiar tunnel of slipspace. But now…now he was in command of Ephyra. One of the new Anvengad class Monitors that would bring fearsome firepower to his full fleet.

To be honest…he didn't think a single Klor'vian vessel would be able to stand against his flagship. With four Hammer of Dawn batteries…a 30kg slug that could fire at 1.9% light speed. Not to mention the armor, shields, and secondary weapons. Even the recent breakthrough with slipspace engines now pushed their range to nearly fifty light years per day. It was amazing how quickly technology developed during wartime.

Von, the ship's artificial intelligence would take getting used to. One of the newest second generations, Von had developed quite the unique personality. As in…it…or he loved old, campy science fiction movies from the last century.

As long as Von carried out his duties and orders, he could watch every movie in existence.

Then there was his fleet. Nine hundred eighty seven ships. The sheer industrial capacity surprised him, but the Kuat shipyards of Reach had been building warships since the first days of the war. Same with Azura, Anvengad…and Vasgarnia.

It was no wonder they were able to recoup their losses so quickly and expand their fleets once their full industrial might supported the war.

And now… "Now we link up with the 3rd Fleet and Admiral Akari at Anvengad…push north for the offensive next month…to finally take this war to those bastards…" Adrian glanced at the digital clock on his nightstand, a yawn escaping his mouth as the late hour crept up.

Mindful of his fatigue, Trescu soon slumbered as the night crew moved the rebuilt 5th fleet further away from the system of Reach.

Unknown system. Approximately 455 light years from the southern border of Coalition Space.

Three hundred twelve ships entered the system near the outer gas giant, their frantic pace barely slowing. Colored a soft blue, each of these vessels resembled bulbous crosses. With swept back wings connected to the central mass, two additional spires rose from the bottom and top of the main hull for many of these vessels.

Several were damaged. Leaking air…frozen gases as the crews inside tried to stem the worst of the damage. These stricken ships had taken up the middle of the formation, flying along side the dozen colony ships as the warships urged more speed toward the inner system.

Captain Celeste V'toll leaned forward in her command chair, the haggard fatigue and fear in her eyes.

"Are they here? Did the Batarian's beat us here?" the Asari captain asked, her bluish-purple skin a close match to the surrounding bulkheads.

Sensors swept from the single dreadnaught, plunging into the freshly discovered system as the colonization fleet continued to burn at maximum sub-light.

"We need to discharge the build up of our cores soon. But the Batarians…" Celeste forced herself not to look behind her, fearing that it would summon the fleet pursuing them. The fleet of four eyed monsters that wanted nothing to do except enslave them all.

She quelled a shudder, knowing what those brutes did to Asari they captured. They enjoyed breaking the mono-gendered females…defiling them.

The mission had been simple. Escort the colonization fleet to Nueva Thessa, a newly discovered garden world bordering the south-eastern edges of Asari space and assist in protection and settlement. Yes…it was on the unsettled borders of the terminus systems, a roiling pocket of the galaxy with a close proximity to the Batarian Hegemony, but…they were Asari. Nobody would dare attack their ships without a proper declaration of war.

They were wrong. None of them could fathom how quickly the Batarians had moved after their withdrawal from the council over the disputes with the Systems Alliance. How rapidly they began raiding and enslaving…like mad Varren removed from a leash.

None of them had the slightest clue that the Batarians had already taken Nueva Thessa…or secured the Mass Relay, cutting off their retreat as they emerged.

Celeste had lost nearly two dozen ships as they made a frantic escape to the far system, desperately trying to out run the Batarian fleet of nearly nine hundred ships. She couldn't even warn the Council of what the beasts had done…communications had been scrambled and intercepted.

And they kept pursuing. Sensing a weakened prey…new slaves and a wealth of Asari technology.

A pursuit that had dragged on for two whole months. A flight across interstellar space and four whole systems that landed them here…still reeling from pursuit.

They had an hour at best.

Celeste realized that the technician at sensors had been trying to gain her attention. Rubbing her eyes, V'toll tried to ignore the hanging sword of dread. She was surprised that twenty minutes had passed.

"Ma'am! Sensors are picking up a habitable world! ….and a Relay!

This perked her up. If it was active, they could use it, escape, and make their way back to Council space.

"Is it an active relay? And what type?"

"Its defunct. And…a secondary relay"

She could hear the distress…the crushing moral of the bridge crew around her. A secondary relay would only link to a single companion…not that it mattered. With it never been approved for activation by the Citadel Council, she would be breaking one of their most important laws.

Their fleet was moving closer, burning toward the secondary orbit that held a live garden world…and the powered down Relay in a moon like orbit. In another fifteen minutes, their ships were in orbit of the garden world, keeping a healthy distance as the powered down Mass Relay hung two million miles away.

The planet had three continents, almost entirely covered with jungle or mountains. At least two hurricanes were active on the closest side, battering shorelines. It was an obvious tropical planet as the ice caps were minimal at best.

She briefly thought of landing on the planet, but crushed it immediately. Only the colony ships could do so…and who knows what types of life forms were down there. That…and the Batarian's could just overwhelm them.

Celeste stood, approaching the main window of her ship as she studied the hanging Prothean artifact. Something the humans said resembled a 'tuning fork' …it was an accurate description.

The way she saw it, there were three options. Surrender to the Batarians and become slaves. Leave the system and face dwindling supplies. Or…break Council law and possibly survive.

"Activate the Relay"

There were no protests as several Asari began to send the proper signals to the alien device. Normally there would be. The rule of law and justice would be pleaded by the maiden officers, how this action would destroy Celeste's career…but it was the only option that gave nearly seventy thousand Asari a chance to live…and be free.

"The relay is activating. It will be fully active in ten minutes. But…" one of the crew informed, the words dropping off.

"I know. We have no idea what's on the other side. When the humans first activated theirs, they had to wait at least four days for the debris of Charon to clear. It's standard practice. Even our—"

"Ma'am! They…The Batarian fleet has entered the system!"

"How long until they reach us!" Celeste cried out, a voice echoing across the bridge as the current conversation was forgotten.

"Forty eight minutes!"

"As soon as that relay is powered, we go through! Move our ships for immediate entry!"

The Asari vessels moved, a panic in their flight as the seconds and minutes ticked away. The main Dreadnaught, The Justicar Vali would lead, taking the harshest damage on the other side if need be.

The time was short…but felt like an eternity as the Mass Relay finally became fully active. Glowing a serene blue as the energies of element zero started to surge, the flagshipled the way.

In a flash, she was gone. Sling shotted to an unknown system as the rest of the hunted Asari fleet quickly followed the trails of discharged particles…

Reach System. Ice protoplanet in orbit of Reach VI

The minimal traces of Element Zero had been studied for years…and found to be essentially useless to the Coalition. Such minimal deposits had been located that even simple research had been difficult to continue after several years.

It was no surprise that the scientific outpost had been abandoned and decommissioned, their scientist's reassigned to more worthwhile projects.

Which was fortunate as the proto planet of ice shattered in a flash, the long hidden Mass Relay inside stirring to life. Chunks of ice spread out, a roiling mess of materials that would clog the nearby space for days. Of course, this didn't go un-noticed by the sensor net of the Coalition. Fearing that the Klor'vian Caliphate had somehow launched a deep strike at Reach, an emergency recall was sent to Admiral Trescu immediately…but he would still need at least ten hours to turn around.

Until then, Reach would have to rely on the two hundred twelve combat ships still in system, her orbital defenses and ground armies to thwart an attack by the hated enemies of humanity.

The strange, cross shaped ships that soon emerged doubled that alarm…many of them taking fresh damage as they struck ice rock and the remains of that ice world. Shields fell…hulls were breached or torn away, their air leaking like a sieve. Three smaller vessels were destroyed, their collisions unavoidable as their cores went critical to vaporize a cleared area.

One of the colony ships took a terrible gash along its flank from a larger fragment, the sundered hull spilling several Asari to the vacuum before emergency crews and emergency shields could prevent the loss of life.

In total, over three hundred ships had come through the unknown, alien construct…and many were damaged to fresh degrees as they sprinted away from the device, hurrying across the system with desperate haste.

Alarms blared, the shields beaten horribly after re-entry to normal space. Her flagship had been beaten…battered as Captain Celeste silently thanked the goddess that most of the fleet was still functioning and following her lead from the relay. Pulsing blue lights of emergency warnings continued, bathing the bridge in a strange azure as the star system lay before them.

They fled quickly, racing past the first gas giant to create the most distance between themselves and the slaving beasts. The fact that there were several orbiting gas extraction facilities in high orbit had the Asari ships already bathing the system with scans across all spectrums.

"Sensors?"

"I'm mapping seven planets to—Detecting transmissions from the third planet across several bands! This system…what? How are they even here?"

"What is it, crewman?"

"It's the visual transmissions...I'll…place them on our main view screen" The Asari crewman fed the data onto the bridge, and her stunned confusion became clear.

Two humans were talking, a male and female, showing video clips of the broken proto-planet, the Mass Relay, and…the Asari ships currently burning across the outer system. But the language…it wasn't…

"Why aren't they speaking Alliance standard? More importantly, how did the humans even settle this world without anybody knowing?" Celeste V'toll inquired with a snap, the stress of this new mystery weighing on her shoulders.

"A possible breakaway colony? Or maybe a colony ship went off course? But the distance from Earth…" One of the officers suggested.

It made no sense. Even if this was some lost world of the Systems Alliance, they would have had to cross nearly half the galaxy to settle here. Then there was the fact that the Relay had been encased in ice…or that…

"What's the population of this system? Best estimate? And do they have a naval presence?" Celeste inquired of sensors once more, the technician already hard at work with flying fingers across glowing, purple keys.

The three hundred ships had kept up their speed, now angling toward the inner system now that they realized they were among friends. Passing an outer asteroid belt, more mining industry became apparent, but it was distant.

"If the Alliance is here, they'll help us. We have good relations with them and they hate the Batarian's more than anybody. We could even get supplies and repairs!" It was a huge relief, knowing that the end of this dreadful pursuit could be closing today.

"Until we are in orbit, based on the amount of shipping and communications traffic…at least two hundred million. Possi.. I'm detecting warships! Coming from the far edge of the system to intercept! At least…two hundred! Possible Dreadnaught class among them!"

"Open a channel! And somebody get working on translating! It's obvious now that this is a lost colony of some sort!"

The Asari at sensors kept working, her very female looking face growing more and more concerned. "Captain! The Alliance ships…they look wrong. Almost like giant space rifles. And I'm not detecting any use of element zero… If this is a lost colony…the vessels they have will be very primitive. I doubt they can even leave the system"

It was a crushing blow to hope. If this lost colony had only mastered sub-light speeds for inner system defense… Celeste kept calm, knowing if she showed panic, it would spread.

Then the true weight of what she had done came crashing down. Her desire to escape…to protect her people and escape slavery…of breaking Citadel law and activating a dormant relay…

The Batarian's would enslave this whole system…and nobody in the Alliance or the Council would know. It was like a vice of guilt around her heart, and Celeste had to take a full minute before she could stand. Running a hand along the length of her purplish blue crest, the realization of her crimes… Even if she somehow survived this…her career…everything she had accomplished in three hundred twenty two years of life…

"Open a channel to the human fleet. I have to tell them what the Batarian's will do…that we need to combine forces"

Squaring her shoulders, Captain Celeste V'toll began to speak, hoping that the Alliance would forgive her in time…

---

Commander Jayde Strand sat in her command chair, hidden terror in her heart as the Reach Defense Squadron pushed hard across the system to intercept this new threat.

An attractive, fit woman in her early thirties, she had been in command of a Battlecruiser, the Agell Lake as she fought a bloody retreat with the 5th fleet across Coalition space for nearly half a year. It was only after the Toads turned tail and ran that the promotion and medals had come in…and now she was in command of Trescu's old battleship, the Ganil Sea. Refitted with new engine upgrades, repaired and serviced, she had become the central linchpin of the vital Kuat shipyards of this system as the defense squadron was built around her over the last half year.

Brushing a few strands of dark, green hair to the side of her head, she knew that most of these ships and crews had never tasted combat. Frankly, she used the calmness and stability of this system to give the crews more training. But that had been interrupted a mere half hour ago.

Now…some strange…sky fork had appeared on the edges of the system, disgorging hundreds of ships into the system of Reach. Flying away from the sprawling Kuat shipyards in orbit of Reach IV on the far edge of planetary system, she decided on sublight speeds across the velvet vacuum.

"Commander? I'm…receiving a visual communication from the alien ships. Ma'am…whoever they are…they aren't Klor'vian"

That was surprising bit of news to Strand. Standing up, she folded her hands behind her back, projecting an aura of authority as she centered herself before the holo graphic display. In another twenty minutes, their fleets would be within range near the orbit of Reach herself, but until then, a willingness to communicate was preferred.

"Show me"

The visual of the being was not…expected. Jade had assumed something as ugly as the Toads. Something with oily skin or three eyes and disgusting body hair.

Instead, she was looking at a very human alien woman. Granted her skin tone was a light purple and there was no hair. Instead, there was some strange, tendril crest growing out of the back of her head. But the cheekbones…the location of the eyes, lips and mouth. The appearance was relatable. If this alien female had been Seran, she could be a model. At the least, very attractive.

Then the alien began to speak. Strange words of a very female tone that had no meaning to the Seran's, but the intent was too similar. Regret. Guilt. Fear.

"Please! You have to help us! I know this may be a lost world of the Alliance, but our two peoples share trade, diplomacy and peace! The Batarian's will be here within minutes and will enslave us all!"

"Any idea what she's saying?" Commander Jade inquired, slightly turning her gaze to the male nearby.

"No ma'am…hmmm" The crewman at sensors squinted at the screen, his dark skin taking on an off blue glow from the computer as more data came in. With each passing minute, their fleet moved closer, getting a more detailed picture of the invaders. "Several of the alien ships appear damaged to varying degrees. Not only that, but I think there might be transports among them"

It was news that made this situation even more confusing. What kind of alien race would attack Reach with barely three hundred vessels? Or start the battle with damaged ships and transports in harm's way? While the capabilities of the unknowns were a mystery, it seemed very foolish to the commander.

Turns out, Commander Strand's questions would be answered as the woman at tactical stirred.

"Ma'am! Nearby sensor outposts by the…the Sky Key are reporting an energy buildup!"

"More of their ships?"

"Unknown ma'am…but there are…numbers are already passing three hundred and not slowing down" Jayde looked at the purple skinned alien woman's holo image, the fear almost doubling…pleading for something.

She could be wrong. The social and cultural differences could mean this alien was threatening her. For all Jayde knew, these blue females ate babies or tortured…but that train of thought didn't feel…right.

Her ships were now at the extremes of weapons range of the first unknown's, the aliens taking a high orbit around one of Reach's small moons. Of course weapons were locked and shields charged as Strand's squadron put themselves between Reach and the potential hostiles, but these blue space women didn't move to make an aggressive stance.

The second group however…

"Commander, the second fleet is spreading out and heading in-system! Nearly one thousand ships…I'm getting emergency calls from the outer mining industries! They're being attacked! And…incoming transmissions! System wide from the second group!"

"Show me!"

A new alien appeared on her holographic display…and it was disgusting. An appearance that screamed of hate…war…stupidity. The skin was an off brownish green…like rancid feces. Instead of a nose, there were four rows of horizontal breathing slits that rested above the mouth. The head was taller, the forehead covered with strange ridges.

But the most prominent feature was the four eyes, all of which were a black obsidian.

The creature spoke, a low baritone mixed with grunts and the occasional chuckle.

Even if Commander Jayde Strand could understand the words, this vast alien fleet had made their intent known.

They wanted war.

"We attack them immediately. The longer we can keep them away from Reach, the more time we buy for the 5th fleet to return" Retaking her command chair as communications with both groups were cut off, Strand prayed that the blue ones wouldn't shoot her in the back, but the attacking ships were the priority.

Ganil Sea pushed forward, bringing two hundred Coalition vessels as their engines once again flared to enclose with the enemy…

Admiral Bi'shan couldn't believe his immense fortune. Not only had he caught up with the Asari after two months of pursuit, but they had led him to a hidden Alliance world ripe with future slaves. Intercepted transmissions from the colony had them speaking a strange dialect, but the Admiral didn't care.

They would be broken…this world would be broken. And if everything went his way, the Council or Systems Alliance would never know of his hidden victory.

Scoffing in derision as the meager defense force flew across the star system to meet his 7th fleet, Bi'shan simply pointed to the life bearing world ripe for conquest.

"Take the system…Enslave or destroy everything"

And with that, his Dreadnaught, Slaver's Might lead nearly one thousand vessels in its wake to carry out the subjugation of this hidden Alliance world…

This…this had to be written! I really was planning on a Shifting chapter, but I couldn't ignore this. I developed a new plot pathway, finally bringing in the Citadel…or at least a hunted Asari fleet.

And seriously, no first contact failure nonsense. As far as the Asari and Batarians are concerned, this is just some unknown, lost Alliance colony which is obviously not the case. Next chapter…probably warfare across a second front hahaha.

Also, I am not an expert on spaceship manufacturing practices so don't give me grief about the construction rate. I'm sure the Caliphate hasn't been sitting around either. No doubt they've upgraded and rebuilt their fleets as well…hint hint.

Anyway. Supportive and pleasant reviews are welcome. If you're a trolling piece of shit, you get blocked and deleted.

This is Thehappy signing off.