Citadel of Lead

The beings that had constructed the citadel had not been human, even a cursory look at the architecture would reveal that. The sizes of all rooms and passageways were both gigantic and followed proportions that no human builder would have considered. The walls and floors did not meet at angles but followed graceful curves and their material was seamless, smooth and of a sickly green. The rooms were eternally lit by sources hard to discern shining in a light that was unsettling to humans. Many rooms were filled by vats, pipes and other arcane equipment that did not make any sense to the Citadel's current owners. The Citadel was served by its spirits, small otherworldly boxes that trundled along the floor on small wheels and that performed unknowable tasks here and there. Some simply cleaned, others went before walls where openings suddenly dilated, spent time there and then retreated, leaving an unmolested surface behind them.
The newcomers to the citadel had been upset about them when they removed the bits they had brought to make things a bit like home and removed trophies, the results of duels and sacrifices both. Yet their leader had made it clear that they were not to be disturbed in any way. After the spirits had removed the flayed skin of the first offender the rule had struck-mostly.

The figure that marched down one of the corridors saw none of it and his thoughts were far from the marvels around him. It was hard to see anything of the man inside the simple plate armour. It was nearly all enclosing, combining heavy metal plates with chainmail. A red glow emerged from the few gaps in the metal and more of it emerged from the hammer that was in the warriors hands. The hammer had been a simple device once with a straight shaft and a simple head which allowed the used to channel the power of Sigmar. Now it was encrusted with outgrowths of dead metal and living wood. Ridges and spikes cluttered the once-clean shape and changed the weapons purpose from crushing armour and life quickly and with equal ease to causing pain, bloodletting and disfiguration. This suited the new mores of its owner just fine. While the weapon looked suitably sized in the warrior's armoured gauntlets it would be hard to lift for a human of normal built and size, let alone fight. The figure had mightily grown in size, strength and outlook since he had switched masters. Even his closest compatriots had never learned of his name and the only moniker by which he went was "Martel", the hammer. His real name would astonish most of them, as would his origins.

He dwarfed the two guards that stood before the entrance and they removed the halberds that had blocked the passage without a word. Entering the chamber beyond Martel was not dismayed at the automatic closing of the door or the darkness that ensued. He walked an exactly measured five steps forward, bent down and rested his knees on the ground. Placing the hammer's haft on the ground and folding his hands in an approximation of prayer around it he waited.
There were small sparks first, igniting the contents of nine bowls placed at equal distances around a simple pedestal. Smoke rose from the bowls and united itself into a cloud that hovered in front of Martel. A picture formed in the smoke, weaving and deforming with the vagaries of the smoke at first and more solid with every second. And while it towered above the Chaos Warrior is was just a pale shadow of the size and the powerful physique that he had once possessed.

Be`lakor had had it all, once. He had commanded the armies of Chaos, once. He had ruled over anybody and everything he desired, once. And he had become arrogant in his belief in himself and lacked in the service to his masters, once.
Tzeentch himself had cursed him, stripped him of powers and body, had charged him with one task as punishment: Instead of ruling himself Be`lakor would crown the Ever chosen, the Champion of all Chaos Gods and nothing more. He would be so close to the power but would never have it again if the will of Tzeetch were fulfilled.

Reduced to such a pitiful state the former Demon price had sought to regain what he had lost by manipulating the minds of those of weak will, of those who longed for things they could not acquire themselves, fools mortal and immortal both.
He had tried to gather enough power when he made the bands of Mordheim search for Warpstone and when he had failed he had converted some of Albion's Truth Sayers to do his bidding as the Ogham stones would provide the power he needed if properly enticed to do had been hard going and he had been resigned to crown Archaron after his inevitable victory at Middenheim when the Germans happened.

The shock of the Weltensprung had hit most beings attuned to the Empyrean hard, yet he had been devastated by it as he had no body to carry him and still resided in the material realm. When he had regained his facilities the world had been stood on its ends. Archaron the Ever chosen had died under the tracks of a German tank, his army burned to ashes and the great Storm of Chaos had blown itself to pieces. The forces of Chaos had retreated into the Chaos Desert or hid frightfully inside the Great Forest. He had seen it all, unable to do anything, influence anything or even communicate to anybody.

Tzeentch himself seemed distracted and injured somehow and while this would have been a source of joy for the Demon Prince now Be`lakor could just rail at his fate which condemned him to do nothing. The shock that had finally allowed him to exercise the facilities left him by Tzeentch again was the death of the Horned Rat. The energies that had shaken up the Empyrean had given him the little extra that had been needed.

He had been in a poor state, bereft of followers and had used the freedoms given to a Incorporeal being to watch and learn about the new state of the world. He was dismayed at the strength of the new opposition and had to change his plans accordingly. When he had finally committed himself he had enticed the old systems in the Citadel into life and led a Truthsayer to believe he had unlocked the secrets of its entrance by himself. Taking advantage of the questing mind he had started to build up his retinue again, physical beings that would do his bidding till he had acquired the means of getting his body back.

During his Reconnaissance of Albion he had found the means to hurt the Forces of Order badly and he hoped that once this calamity got underway the world would be too distracted to take heed of his plans. Yet the changes in weather and the arrival of the first Slann forces said that he might not have the time he wished for. The being in front of him led his servants ably enough but his hopes to be crowned by Be´lakor were a carefully nurtured bait, never to be realized.

"What is thy bidding Master."
"I hope you do not enjoy the absence of the rain and the mists too much Martel as this means powerful enemies have taken note of us. The cold-blooded Slann want to accomplish what the weak-livered Elves could not and aim to conquer the fortress and the portal. They are the ones who dissolved the magical mists that have protected Albion from interlopers and they try to undo our work."
"That is nothing new Master, they have been in Albion for years now, as are the Elves and the others."
"Oh yes, that is so and you were handling them well. Yet the saurian have brought a new ally to aid them."
"Who is that Master?"
"The new humans that appeared six years ago, the Germans. I have seen some of their machines coming and going."
"And they are a threat to your plans Master?"
"They can be if we let them, which we will not. We need them to look elsewhere so that they do not look at the Portal."
"How will you achieve that Master?"
"By making them attack the Citadel."
"This will put you in danger Master."
"Yes, and it still needs to be done, the Citadel will protect us. Yet we have to see that they are intrigued with it. They are new to this world and easily distracted by illusions and feints. They think that what is well guarded must be valuable, so we will drew their attention by attacking those of them who spy on the Citadel."
"Are there any close by Master?"
"Yes, there are and their souls are just small candles in a dark room to my sight. Snuff them out Martel and make it spectacular, will you?"
"Yes Master, with pleasure."

Pfullendorf, South Germany

Joakim Vos sat in front of the Colonel that led the "Advanced Weapons Testing Group" since its inception and waited for the bad news. He had started out as Sergeant and had led what amounted to a platoon of armoured infantry through the Skavenblight campaign. He had been promoted to Lieutenant during the scrap and had seen the troops he had trained used up like a piece of soap until hardly a squad remained. He had worked hard to build them up again, yet everybody knew that changes were coming and he was not sure where they would leave him.

"Good morning Oberleutnant, thanks for seeing me on short notice."
That was a bit hard to take-he was Lieutenant for a little more than 18 months now, and being promoted without any notice was nice, but could easily meant to soften the blow.

"Oberleutnant, you have given sterling service and your promotion is meant to reflect that. I like to have you in my command and have fought for you, but it was not to be. You have to understand, the Armoured Infantry is still very much an Imperial undertaking and it was just a matter of time until they would ask for one of their nobles to lead them. When the unit was founded it was small, no cavalry and untested, so nobody whose great-grandfather had shook hands with Sigmar was interested. These days the Armoured Infantry is seen as the elite and prestige is enormous. And that means that you can no longer lead the unit I am afraid. Which does not mean you are out of a job. Look here…."
Joakim Vos looked at the sheet in front of him and shuddered.

500 kilometres above the Warhammer World

The Spaceship had left the station a couple of hours ago and had rendezvoused with an unmanned spacecraft launched from the Warhammer World.
Nathan Alpers used a small joystick to swivel the outside camera to the point indicated by radar. When a glowing spot appeared he zoomed in till it resolved itself into a cylinder with four unfolded panels.
Zooming even closer he could see the script on the cylinder "CJvR 001"

"Ground Control, this is Polarstern. From here it looks like all four radiators deployed fully, the telemetry on no. 3 must be faulty."
"Polarstern, this is Ground Control, thanks for the video, we concur. Please get us a close up of the hinge and pipes."
"Polarstern confirmed."

It took the two astronauts nearly 15 minutes to close the distance and position their spacecraft at the correct angle. The camera provided a very clear picture of the joint between the cylinder and the panel. Both the the cables and the bundle of pipes seemed intact.

"Ground Control, this is Polarstern. We can see no damage to the cooling system."
"Polarstern, copy. Wait one."

While Ground Control debated the next steps Nathan enjoyed a sight he never tired of, the millions of unblinking stars in his sight and the world that turned below him. He could just hope that things would work out quickly. When the CJvR had been launched two days before its telemetry had indicated that one radiator had not unfolded properly. In order to save the expensive test vehicle "Polarstern" had been ordered to inspect the craft visually and if needed tow it to Kopernikus Station, something the German astronaut would really like to avoid. Not only would this cut into the time needed to integrate the weapons systems into "Polarstern" and the test run, but he was unhappy with the thought of taking the spacecraft into the station.
"Polarstern, this is Ground Control. We will conduct a test firing of the core. Stand by to observe."
"Polarstern copies."
The spacecraft in his monitor did not change orbit, nothing moved that he could see and the tension inside the small cockpit rose till infrared told the story before visual did. Before long all four panels glowed in a nice shade of red before slowly cooling down again.
"Polarstern, this is Ground Control. We have good telemetry of the cooling system and core checks out as well. Move off by two kilometers and take pictures as the next launch window opens in 81 minutes."
"Polarstern copies."
A little more than an hour later the radiators glowed again and the cylinder oriented itself away from the world below.
"5..4..3..2..1..0 we have ignition"
The wording was not that precise in this case, but it was tradition. A plume of steam emerged from the back of the cylinder that seemed to glow from inside. The spacecraft accelerated slowly, even if much faster than "Polarstern" would have been able to and reduced itself to a glowing spec in Nathan`s monitor within minutes.
"Polarstern, this is ground control. Probe is on course, return to Kopernikus."
"Ground Control, Polarstern copies."

Orbital mechanics meant that Nathan and Erik Bär would spend the next eight hours in the capsule, mostly making sure that nothing stopped working.
"Damn good thing that there was nothing really wrong with it. I would have hated to take this thing into dock."
"Same here, but still quite impressive that thing. I mean an ISP of better than 1500 is nothing to sneeze at."
"Yes, but this wont see me in front of it till they tested it much more and even then. Tungsten core with more than 3000 degree, above 100 MW thermal output and they strap that below a huge tank full of hydrogen peroxide. They should call it what it is; a bleeding bomb. Pottinger-Pullem drive my ass."
The press release by DLR would fete the launch of the "Outer Planets Probe", which would visit the outer planets Verda, Lokratia, Obscuria as well as the newly discovered Uller and Urd.
By that time of the press conference Nathan and his crew had finished the connections to the new pallet in the back of Polarstern. It contained not one but two weapons systems and their sensors.

Altdorf, Imperial Palace

Sophie Wagenstein could not help to feel excited and rather flushed. She had been able to get one of the few invitations to an event that mattered, to something that would move this world. She felt small pangs of guilt as the same event was connected to her fiancée loosing the job that he had loved, yet this was her career in the making. And it wasn't like she had done anything to set this in motion. She would just do her level best to report it.

The exercise yard inside the palace complex had not been used for something as profane as drilling for centuries, even if it had once served that purpose. This was a place for speeches, for festivals, for walking off a meal and on very very few occasions for the review of soldiers.

This was the place where the Honour Company of the Reiksguard announced new members and where the Emperor honoured those who had defended his Empire. A beautiful sky presided over the review and the stands were packed with the colourful robes of courtiers and nobles was an important day and having been here or not would influence one's standing markedly.

Karl Franz had taken the lectern to rouse his speech and while he was far less colorful than many of the noble spectators he cut a far more imposing figure in the uniform he would use in the field.
"Nobles and Citizens of the Empire, hear me. We have assembled today to mark the founding of the Empire's newest formation, another one of those we share with our Reiksbund Germans.
Never before has this place seen more might assembled in it and just a score of years ago it would have been unthinkable. When just a few years before our Technici and the German scientists presented the first sets of Power Armour many thought them a mistake, an expensive folly and a youthful dream that had no real place in the battlefield.
It fell to General Wolf to recognize their worth and the Armoured Infantry proved their value in Skavenblight and on Earth. Now that they have shown what they are capable of the Reiksbund struggles to produce more suits and train more soldiers in their use, yet it is a difficult process. Only a few are able to make these marvellous suits of armour and each is a marvel to behold.

Yet, by working hard together and by developing more parts of them that can be made with mundane means the Technici and KMW have managed to increase production. When we asked for volunteers many of the best and brightest our alliance has to offer responded and competition has been fierce. Two years ago it would have been a fond dream and even last year it seemed impossible and yet here you are.

A full company of Armoured Infantry, 132 armored soldiers to fight the enemies of the Reiksbund. You have mighty weapons in your hands, yet we all know that powerful enemies threaten us all. From the unspeakable terrors that dwell in the Chaos Desert to things that crawl in the uncharted places before is there are those who want to to kill us, want to to remake us in their image and to sacrifice us to their Dark Gods.

You stand between them and those who cannot defend themselves, you fight for our parents, our children and loved ones. You protect the cities that we have build with so much effort and the land we all love.
You bear a heavy responsibility and I trust you fully to fulfil it. You will be more than just our sharpest sword and stoutest shield, you will be examples of what we all try to achieve. Soldiers, I name you the Reiksbund Paladins."
That brought wild resounding cheers, from the soldiers and onlookers both. It took a while before they quietened down sufficiently for the Emperor to continue.

"It is said that a unit is only as good as its commander and you will be commanded by the best I can imagine for this task.
Valten of Altdorf, come forward."
Sophie watched as the blonde giant stepped forward. Like all of the assembled he had exchanged his helmet for a beret and came to attention before the monarch that had stepped down from the lectern.
Valten went on one knee to receive his ruler's appointment.

"Valten of Altdorf, I hereby charge you to take command of the Reiksbund Paladins, fail at your peril."
"I will do my best my liege."
"Then take this son, you will need it."
And with these words he handed Ghal Maraz, the Warhammer he had inherited from Sigmar into Valten`s hands.
The silence in the yard stretched for eternal seconds before the cheers became even louder than before.

Joakim Vos felt ill at ease, he simply was not made for the formal receptions at the Imperial Court. The food was too refined, the written and unwritten rules of conduct too complicated to follow for anybody who did not live here full-time, yet this was not the problem. Neither was Sophie who had the time of her life and looked gorgeous in her Imperial-style gown.
The problem was the short conversation he had with the Emperor after the announcement. He had seen it coming yet knew no way around it.
"Sir Joakim, a good thing to see you again and you did a splendid job so far, I have only one more thing to add. Consider this your most important task and an order by your monarch: Keep him alive, at all costs. Are we clear on that."
"I will do my best Sire, nobody can promise more."
"I know and I know you will make it happen."
Joakim Vos was ill at ease as he had changed positions. From commanding a platoon of armoured Infantry, a job he had loved, he had now been promoted to Executive Officer commanding a Company. And he had to protect one of the most important men in the Reiksbund.

Headline in "Focus"

"Emperor announces successor"

Karl-Franz, the Emperor has used the founding ceremony of the joint Armoured Infantry unit, the Paladins, to announce his successor. He named Valten of Altdorf whom he adopted last month. Fresh back from his studies in Germany he can use his position of commanding the Armoured Infantry to build up the standing he needs to make their succession assured when Karl-Franz will step down in many years. While Valten in vastly popular in the general population this will cause consternation with the nobility as Valten is not from one of the noble lines.
Only time will tell if...

140 km northwest of the Cathayanborder, near Baatargom

Altai Khan, Leader of the Jarut Tribe, was sitting on his trusted horse Jengis, observing the plains spread out before them. The half-nomadic Jaruts, a combined mixture of several Hung and Kurgan tribes,were among the largest nomad societies in that part of the world.

The massive Hobgoblin invasion across the northern Plains and Cathay had hit the Hung and other nomads even harder than the. While nomadic tribes have no "home" in the classic sense of a sedate society, they have territories functionally the same. The Hobgoblins had conquered quite a number of prime hunting grounds and pastures, forcing the Hung, Kurgans and other human tribes there away. The following 2 years were a hard time for them, pressuring the tribes to move in parts of the world they seldom went under normal circumstances. Some even used the northern landbridge to invade Naggaroth.

The Jarut had been among the few tribes which had defended themselves well, so they had not been pushed as far away by the Hobgoblin onslaught as others. And they wanted to recapture their winter homes and settlements. Baatarsgom was one of the few whole year settlements in the region and even by modern standards almost a city, although on the primitive side). It was the capital and main production center of the Jarut tribe. Despite fierce resistance, the Hobgoblins had drowned the defenders in numbers and conquered Baatarsgom.

If one could speak of luck, the only luck back then had been that the yearly "Great Travel" to the West had coincidedwith the attack by the Hobgoblins.

The Jarut had been among the first visitors, following a vision of their head shaman, of the new country in the Old World, Germany. Khan Altai had been a member of that first visit, part of the entourage of the Khan of Khans. The strange newcomers had been very happy about the friendly contact. The Jarut and most other tribes among the visitors found the Germans very unusual, but likeable. Establishing friendly contact had neither been difficult nor expensive. Like theneighboring Empire, Germany was not a raiding target, both nations too strong to be raided by the Hung or the other tribes. Trade was far more profitable for all sides than war.

The Germans bought rare raw materials, exotic foods, bison, yaks and products made from them, leather, pelts, some horses, handicrafts and artisan works in numbers. The Jaruts on the other side bought stuff theycould only make with difficulty or not at all, like canned foods, modern tents, medical supplies and other things.

The massive numbers and the German wishlist of goods led the Jarut to enlarge their herds and even add in cows. Baatargom grew as well due to the increased need to produce stuff in larger quantities.
To bring all the trade goods to Germany, once a year a good third of the tribe went on the long ride to the West, so they fortunately had been away when the Hobgoblins fell on the tribe.
A special courier with shamanic help was sent after the trade caravan to inform them of the disaster and that they should buy stuff in Germany they would need to survive the loss and weapons.

The Jarut had been among those Hung tribes to acquire several Arkebusen years earlier and after some lasting rapport with the Germans and Imperials had been established, they got access to better firearms. Before the Hobgoblins massive attack on the Nomads and Cathay, the Jarut had built up a depot of flintlock rifles and pistols, cheap but effective, for hunting and war, which had been more than enough against the enemies of their home region, even smaller raids into Cathay.

Under the new circumstances, other weapons were needed and the Jarut were lucky. As they were the producers of things and rare materials Germany wanted or needed and one of the few societies which gained a certain amount of trust from Berlin, the representatives of the Khan could "go shopping" for the "good stuff". It took 2 cycles of the seasons to get ready.
Now the Khan´s war force lying in wait outside Baatargom, all cavalry sported various Imperial cavalry armor types and sabers, Dreyse rifles and revolvers. Altai´s own elite unit had K98 rifles and old-type automatic pistols. The biggest deviance from the old were the 2 artillery units with horse-drawn Imperial IK 2521 field guns.

While the Jarut had limited access to even better weaponry from Germany and the Empire, there were the problems of cost and especially maintenance. "Warhammer´s Mongolia" as the Jarut had learned the Germans called their home, was a region with a now steady, but distance and geographic limited contact to the Old World.

The weapons had to be able to be repaired and maintained with the tools and resources of the Jarut, so they bought these weapons and anby German craftsmen for the more modern ones. Besides, the fire weapons they had now were the best and most numerous for 2000 kilometers around. That was true especially for the cannons. By the new standards of the rapidly industrializing Empire, the IK 2521 guns, the first Imperial cannons made with knowledge gained from Germany, were outdated. But here in this part of the world, the barely 6 years old guns could be fired faster, hit harder and reached out further than any other artillery used, even the Cathayan armies had no comparable cannons.

And with the roar of these guns, the battle for Baatargom opened. After a short bombardment, the cavalry charged and just 2 hours later, Altai Khan and his men could celebrate the recapture of Baatargom. But the Khan was elsewhere with his thoughts. While the new weapons had been used to devastating effect by the Jaruts, the victory had been a bit too easy in his mind. The defenders were appallingly led, the feared Wolfriders had been small in number as was the general strength of the Hobgoblins in Baatargom. Something was not right, somewhere, elsewhere had "it" happened. Whatever that was, it had weakened the Hobgoblins, which at the beginning of the war had attacked in strength not seen in generations. But now, that was gone. A smile formed on the face of Altai.
"Hangamor, send out scouts, make the artillery moveable! I have the feeling that the Hobgoblins are weakened. If my gut is right, we have to use this to send them to Chaos! And take territory from them as well. Expect the feast we have earned ourselves to be short!
Hearing the cries of joy from his men, being happy himself, Altai could not know that one day legends would tell about the history of the great Altai Khan.

5000 Kilometers above the Warhammer World

The satellite known to the few humans who had a need-to-know as Sage 9 was a huge cylinder with a crystal dome at both ends. Radiator panels jutted out to all sides and a framework all around the spacecraft held a double dozen of kinetic energy weapons. While countless small discolorations showed where small meteorites had left their mark nothing major had ever hit. Under it an island of well-lit cities rolled by to be replaced by an area with far less lights that was followed by darkness. From the outside the satellite was lifeless-no moving parts, no lights and only very little infrared radiation that was not caused by received energy.

The inside was different once one started to look at a very small scale. Millions upon millions of nanites were hard at work keeping the old weapon viable, using energy from solar radiation and temperature differences. They recycled parts that could no longer fulfil their intended purpose and were then dismantled atom by atom and reconstituted according to a plan that was old when the Slann discovered the Warhammer World. A cluster of nanites in the deepest core of the weapon coordinated the maintenance and tried to defend the satellite as best as it could. That this might no longer make any sense to its builders was not a part of the clusters logic. Instead it stood ready to wreak havoc on the orders of beings that were no longer to be found. Among the best-kept parts of the satellite were the anti-missile systems as they had managed to keep the weapon free of major impacts so far.
During the last hours the satellite had engaged in increased activity when several sensors had reported that a rather primitive spacecraft approached.

It did not answer to any of the queries that were sent, so Sage 9 began to withdraw energy from ancient storage devices, took systems from standby to operational and sent a report to masters that were no longer available.

And then the spacecraft did nothing but match orbits at some three kilometers distance. Without orders from its long-deceased owners the nanite cluster depended on its standing orders and these allowed action only if the spacecraft displayed hostile behavior. Yet the old satellite could not detect any radiation or other signs it associated with weapons or fire-control equipment so it sat and waited.
The dorsal Anti-Missile system was pointed at the spacecraft as the ventral one would not bear, it was up to the primitive spacecraft to make the first move if any.

Nathan Alpers watched the picture of Sage 9 in two halves that were slightly out of alignment with each other. Turning a wheel another half orbit matched them perfectly. Outside of the small capsule two-meter long tube abreast to the satellite pointed two cameras on the opposite ends at the target. The angle they had to assume to give the same picture was fed into a computer which calculated range and azimuth with high precision. While the system was totally antiquated it did not emit any telltale radiation. Inside the capsule a trio of surprisingly powerful computers calculated the bearing for the weapon about to be used. Even at this distance this was not trivial as any acceleration to the projectiles would cause them to gain higher orbits. This had to be calculated into the firing solution.
While all of that went on the Warhammer World seemed to roll below the two spacecraft, with Germany and the Empire falling behind and the World`s Edge mountains and the Dark land coming up. If the old satellite would deploy its weapons upon attack during the next 90 minutes, thechances that they would hit anything Germany cared about were zero.

"Ground Control, this is Polarstern. We are in position and firing solution is set."
"Polarstern, this is Ground Control. Mission is go, repeat mission is go."
"Ground Control, this is Polarstern, confirm Mission is go."
Nathan Alpers heard his breathing inside the space suit, the pounding of blood in his ears and felt the sweat that tickled down his neck. These were old acquaintances and had never kept him from doing what needed to be done and today was not the day to start.

Flipping the protective cover off a switch he pressed it firmly in. In this day and age this did not mean that he fired any weapon directly, he just asked a computer if it would be so nice. Said computer checked several factors, decided that its user seemed to know what he was doing and handled the order elsewhere.

15 meters behind Nathan a slender barrel started to spit fire five times a second. Projectiles the size of a soft-drink bottle were accelerated to 1200 meters/second by rapidly expanding gasses and sped towards their target while the same gasses that propelled them were ejected backwards from the gun through a carefully designed nozzle, cancelling recoil. The recoilless RMK cannon was usually mounted on Tiger helicopters and some Wiesel weapons carriers, now it had found its way into projectiles were very fast and needed less than three seconds to traverse the distance between the gun and target. More than time enough for the target to make up its mind about them.

The nanite cluster would have felt cheated if it would have the capability for that. None of the preliminaries for an attack that was stored in its databases had been detectable. Neither emissions for any kind of fire control gear nor a spike of electromagnetic or gravitic energies for accelerating projectiles had warned of the attack. Instead it was attacked by chemically driven projectiles, something that it had not anticipated. What would be next-bows and arrows? Still the projectiles were closing and so the laser under the dome targeted the first of the score that were underway. It took two pulses to fracture it and the fragments did not disperse sufficiently before they hit the crystal dome. The oh-so-primitive weapons were hard to locate for their small size and lack of emissions and their dense construction meant they needed a lot of energy to damage. Of course they did not penetrate, the dome was a single crystal of alumina and would withstand more than such a small impact. The next projectile was much closer to the dome before it was hit and the one after that was barely damaged before it hit.

That one managed to put cracks into the dome which distorted the next impulse considerably. More projectiles arrived unharmed and the cracks lengthened and became deeper. The cluster determined in about 5 milliseconds that this was probably due to hardened projectiles with special shapes and the fact that the dome should have been replaced in toto about 19500 years ago. It took a further two milliseconds to perform a cost-benefit analysis and decided that accepting a couple of hits while shooting the attacker was preferable to try to intercept as many projectiles as possible. Shifting its laser imperceptibly it fired the first impulse just to see it waste itself against a crack that had just appeared. The second try went through and a flash at the spacecraft spoke of vaporized metal just before three rounds finally shattered the dome and smashed the laser emitter.

Nathan heard the almighty "bang" that was transmitted through "Polarstern`s" structure and felt a gentle shove that was over immediately. He checked his screens and found no discernible damage.
"Erik, what is up."
"Nothing I can see, wait for it, wait-ah. See here, we lost a part of that pallet, but no structural damage, no cable runs, nothing."
"Ok and looks like we got that AMS."
"Thank God."
"Ground Control, this is Polarstern. We have eliminated the Anti-missile system and have sustained only minor damage. Suggest that we continue with the operation."
"Polarstern, this is ground control. We concur, proceed."
"Polarstern acknowledges. Eric, take us in, I go for the links."
"Yes."

Steam was ejected at high speed from the German spacecraft and while it seemed that they accelerated into the wrong direction. Orbital mechanics made accelerating straight towards a target at any but the closest distances an exercise in futility. Achieving a higher speed meant a higher orbit which in turn made one fall behind. The same computers that had just calculated the firing mission made sure that "Polarstern" went where intended and the distance to Sage 9 dropped quickly. At the same time Bär did his best to keep out of the firing arc of the remaining AMS. At the end of the maneuvers the Germans were 300 meters "above" the satellite. Eric Bär was sweating despite the cool temperatures inside his suit, yet both men were doing something no human had ever tried before.

"Nathan, do you have a clear shot?"
"Yes."
"Get to it, I have to maneuver soon."
Nathan centered the crosshairs of his monitor on a metal pipe that emerged from the satellite and pressed the button again. This time the distance was measured with a laser and it was much shorter so that the autocannons hits were nearly simultaneous with the vibrations that came through the craft`s structure. The silver pipe splintered and dropped away, leaving a black cable in view. The German switched to another system and pressed fire again. This time a laser reached out and heated the cable till it gave.
"Got it, get us to the other side"
Smaller jets vented steam all over "Polarstern" and she assumed her new position with all the grace of a beached whale. Eric Bär sweated even more when he realized that Sage 9 was turning by its own, probably to clear the firing arc of its second AMS.
"She is turning too fast Nathan, I cannot hold."

"Scheiße what-ah wait."
Nathan saw two points where gasses vented at high speed. Two short salvos from his autocannon ended that, one of them led to a small secondary explosion.
"Still turning, but much slower."
"I took out their control jets, it is probably using its gyros now. Can you handle that?"
"Think so, don`t take your time though."
"Make it so."

Two minutes later another autocannon burst and laser cut through the second set of cables that connected Sage 9`s computers with the weapons rightly feared by the Germans.
"Ok, it should be defanged now. Let`s switch it off then."
It took Erik Bär nearly an hour to get to the position needed and he had to use his RCS constantly to keep it. Nathan was able to aim for a piece of hull that was mostly covered by girders and heated it up with his laser before several salvo`s from the autocannon ripped it off. Several more bursts went into the black hole before Sage 9 stopped turning.
"Ground Control, this is Polarstern. Sage 9 has stopped maneuvering and we no longer detect the radar. Looks like we got the CPU.
"Polarstern, this is ground control, we concur. Congratulations, you just won the first space combat in history."