Sorry for the slight delay, I ran into a roadblock writing the end of the chapter and even now I'm not quite satisfied with it but I feel its good enough and I don't want to keep peoples waiting.
Also... Holy Jesus! 18 reviews! And it wasn't even a war chapter. :D
EDIT: Come on, only three people have an opinion on this chapter? I thought this one was quite good...
The bridge of his ship was almost silent, the crew tending wordlessly to their workstations just as he liked it. The only sound came from the humming of the consoles and computers themselves, only now and again punctuated by the occasional "bleep" as something important was flagged for the attention of one of his subordinates. It was so quiet. Peaceful. Bliss. A chance for him to recall bygone events of a distant past or to plan ahead for challenges yet to come. Even as his eyes swept the bridge for the smallest of punishable errors, his mind was elsewhere, locked deep in thought as he pondered the battle to come. He smirked to himself as he thought of it. It was no secret amongst his crew that he took pleasure in dealing with those that dared stand against his nation; traitors who'd once stood by his side; bastard sons of a forgotten desert world; scum not fit to lick his boots... it mattered not who: he treated them all with equal contempt and dispassion. He was not to be mistaken for somekind of bloodthirsty barbarian however. He did not charge mindlessly into the fray drunk on bloodlust. He was a professional: a man who'd fought for so long it had become almost second nature. He out-thought and out-maneuvered his foes in order to deal with them as efficiently as possible with minimum risk to himself. No mercy was given for his foes deserved nothing but death for the damage they'd inflicted on the once great nation he served.
Regardless, the battle fought today would not be a glorious tale of conflict between two great war fleets. Nor would it be the enjoyable destruction of a violent anarchist pirate gang. Infact, it would scarcely be called a battle at all. It would be more akin to a one-sided slaughter: the cleansing of a hive of corruption, hostility and contempt. The Galactic Council would die here. Today. Each and every one of them. The bunch of cowardly traitors they were.
Even thinking of the council caused him to clench his fists in anger. Designed as a place for representatives to gather and discuss galactic matters, the council had mutated over time into something rotten. It was amazing how a great political force who's combined military power could have once humbled even the might of the Empire at its peak, had turned into a joke ruled by senial representatives drunk on the pretense of power. Council Representatives held no true say in galactic politics anymore and were infact generally more concerned with insulting their political opponents than actually discussing important galactic concerns. Immoral events -such as the now infamous publicly recorded ridicule of the Hiigaran councillors after they'd announced first contact with a new race- were rather common within the council chambers. It was little wonder the councils own member states regularly ignored its crazed and often one-sided rulings.
Despite its glaringly obvious flaws, the council was still the hub of inter-galactic relations: even with the unmasked bias present against several of its more prominant members or the background deal brockering and side taking that was common place amongst those with less power. Even with its many problems, the lose of the council would still deal a decapitating strike to galactic diplomacy, straining already tense relationships to snapping point and sparking off already voliatile flashpoints... exactly as planned.
"Captain, sir, we will exit hyperspace in just under two minutes."
And so it begun. His actions today would send shockwaves across the face of the galaxy, changing it forever.
"Charge ion cannons, prep all mass drivers and activate the defensive subsystems and shields, I want this ship ready for immediate combat upon arrival. No excuses."
A series of "Yes Captains" rang out across the bridge as his subordinates immediately carried out his commands. He himself had committed the details of the mission to memory. His cruiser -a Fiir-Saar type-3 cruiser (dubbed Qwaar-jet III-class by every other nation barring the Vaygr) named Black Empress- would arrive two hundred kilometres away from the councils "secret" meeting point aboard a neutral asteroid station hidden deep within the centre of the Great Wastelands alongside five other allied ships: four other Fiir-Saar cruisers and a Vaygr designed Model-38 battlecruiser named Vanguard that had been acquired by the Guard during their brief alliance with the Vaygr during Vaygr War and had been put into service as a squadron leader. Once they'd transitioned from hyperspace to normal space they'd proceed to wipeout any resistance around the station before destroying it and the council within.
The entire mission was expected to take them no longer than thirty minutes standard time at the most. They'd be back home in time for supper.
"Hyperspace coordinates locked in, dropping into normal space... now."
He closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the brief tingling sensation of hyperspace transition as it washed over him, his ship slipping back into real space from the depths of a glowing hyperspace portal. They'd arrived. The cold featureless realm of hyperspace was gone, replaced by the browny darkness of a dense asteroid field inhabited by thousands of dead rocks... and one that wasn't quite dead yet...
The asteroid station loomed ahead of them: its craggy brown form framed by the orange glow of small star far on the horizon. Twinkling white lights and artificial constructions lined its surface; comm antennas; hangars; mess halls, the tell tale signs of habitation were visible all over it. Dozens of defenseless luxury yachts and transports of many a different makes and models floated quietly alongside the station, lined up neatly as they waited on the eventual return of their single occupants, their crews oblivious to the impending storm.
He snorted. This was going to be too easy.
Ancient defensive turrets groaned to life all over the sleepy station as perimeter sensors finally detected the six warships as they began their gradual acceleration towards the diplomatic meeting point. The guns -obsolete single barrelled mass driver weapons with elderly targetting systems installed eons ago as a precaution against the off-chance that anyone had the gall to attack the council- never had a chance. The Guard vessels fired first: each round slamming into and ripping apart turret after turret: each armour piercing slug guided by modern targetting systems whos simple artificial intelligences simply could not miss at such close range. A handful of missiles streaked defiantly away from a dozen hidden missile pods, closing the meagre distance between the station and its attackers in a heartbeat only to be shot down mid-flight by point defence lasers. Those that got through detonated uselessly against reverse engineered shields. The Black Empress herself had the pleasure of destroying the unexpected nuisance, splitting open pod after pod with searing white-hot beams of energy from her bow ion cannon turrets, riddling the station with secondary explosions.
A squadron of modernised Triikor interceptors emerged from the underside hangar of the Vanguard: their four rear fin's unfolding as they cleared the battlecruisers narrow hangar entrance. In response, two dozen automated combat drones erupted from hidden storage bays located all across the surface of the now weaponless asteroid station. The drones didn't stand a chance. Half their number was taken out instantly by disposable fire-and-forget anti-fighter missiles, the rest were simply out-flown by the Imperial Guard pilots as they dodged and weaved amongst the far slower and dumber AI controlled drones. The drones were worthless: everytime one managed to fire a badly aimed burst at one of the Triikors, the Imperial fighters would simply roll out of the drones path, flip over and tear the drones lightly armoured belly open with a burst from their own off-centred guns. One after the other the drones disappeared in orangey tinged explosions or spiralled helplessly out of control as they were hit relentlessly by accurate bursts of cannon fire from the elite Triikor pilots.
"As I expected, no challenge at all." He watched as the holographic image of the last attack drone spun wildly into the side of a smaller asteroid and winked out. The defences were gone, now to dispose of the witnesses.
"Target the transports, burn them all. Don't let any escape."
The Black Empress, the Vanguard and two other cruisers rounded on the scattering transports like a pack of wolves cornering their desperate prey. As one, the Guard ships silenced the only witnesses too their ruthless attack. Ion cannon beams lanced through the thin skinned vessels: punching into exposed bridges, boiling away metal, electronics and command crew members alike. One ship -A Frerrn designed yacht- was sliced in two by one of the Empress's fellow cruisers, splitting apart in a storm of molten debris, it's engine block going on to slam into the prow of another fleeing transport, exploding and consuming them both in a vaporising flash of light. A barrage of kinetic rounds and missiles followed the beams, perforating the remaining ships bridges and engineering sections leaving them crewless and powerless, leaving glowing, drifting wrecks where once proud vessels stood. One ship -this one belonging to the traitors- was reduced to molten slag by a blood red bolt of plasma from the Vanguard's heavy fixed-forward plasma cannon array as it ran for the supposed safety of the surrounding asteroid field. Plasma lances flashed along the hulls of the Guard vessels, piercing the hulls of less damaged vessels or vaporising lifepods full of survivors. The Guard carried out the slaughter without thought. It was required. Not a single one of those ships could've been allowed to survive. Mercy was not an option, and many of those slain deserved their fate anyhow.
He couldn't help but grin as the mission moved into its final phase. His eyes eagerly following the computer rendering of the Vanguards deadly cargo. A twenty metre long, armour plated, nuclear fusion missile laden down with an oversized warhead cruised almost lazily away from the battlecruisers hangar at full burn, its targetting sensors locked on to a weak section of the asteroid base's cratered surface. Desperate point defence burst gun fire struck the oversized missile, each round that hit merely bouncing off the armoured casing and doing little to stop the missile as it inexorably closed with the station before activating six secondary thrusters and crashing head first through one of the cooling vents in the stations side, burying itself six metres inside a generator room -to the surprise of the three engineers within- before detonating a heart beat later.
The explosion left him stunned and in awe of its power. Despite being almost one hundred and fifty kilometres away from the station, thermal and radiation warning alarms still sounded all over his ships bridge. The white light filled every one of his ships viewports, momentarily blinding those dumb enough to be staring directly at the source. As the flash faded, he gawked one more. The base was gone, nothing but hundreds of tiny globs of barely formed molten rock and metal left in its place. The council... wiped from the face of the galaxy, reduced to nothing by the blast. A small mercy at least. Their deaths would have been painless, the councillors flash-fried and atomically annihilated before their brains could even comprehend what was going on. It was more than many of them deserved.
"The council burns at last. This has been a long time coming. Savor the feeling, for it is the glorious feeling of fulfillment. We have had our revenge."
Around the bridge, a dozen other officers nodded in agreement with his words. Some were even smirking as they basked in the glow of destruction. This was an event long in the making, it was only right that his men could enjoy it. He drew the line when a few of his bolder officers had the cheek to begin whispering amongst themselves.
"Our task is done." He snapped, silencing the murmurs and bringing his crew back into line. "There is no worth in waiting around. Plot a course for home immediately."
A moment later, six black hulled warships -each bearing the dreaded mark of the Guard- tore open hyperspace portals and fled, their ominous, predatory forms consumed by the glowing vortices they'd summoned, the portals collapsing out of existence behind them upon their departure, leaving only the still smouldering remains of a fresh graveyard and the whispering souls of the recently dead in their wake
Admiral Nirrhan Hussaiid was stressed. Infact, stressed might have been an understatement. His patience had already been pushed to the limit over the past few hours dealing with nosey diplomats and incomprehensible scientists whilst simultaneously preventing his hundred strong fleet from firing on or otherwise provoking a violent reaction from the alien force currently staring the Hiigaran fleet down across the gulf of space: an alien fleet that was growing in number by the hour as well. He'd barely been keeping a lid on the anxiety and worry prevalent amongst his men whilst trying to maintain his calm demeanor at the same time. He'd already snapped at one of his Lieutenaunts who'd asked permission to conduct a sensor sweep of all things! And then, as if to compound his dilemma, he had a looming report to write up and send back to Fleet Command as well.
News as worrying as this -if Admiral Elso was correct- was the last thing he needed to hear at the moment.
"Gone?" He repeated for the third time, staring in disbelief at the video feed on the console before him. "Are you completely certain? There can be no doubt to a claim like this."
"Certain, we have ships searching the remains as I speak." Admiral Rahn Elso, commander of the 14th rear guard tactical fleet and the man currently in charge of security on the "home" side of the jumpgate, drained the tiny glass of whiskey he held in one go. Outside of a combat situation, Hussaiid had never seen Admiral Elso without a drink in his hand.
"The councils dead. The station they were using as an assembly is gone. Wiped off the face of reality. There are not even bodies left to recover."
"Sajuuk grant mercy." Hussaiid shook his head at the holo-screen, both in disbelief and in an attempt to try and bury his knowledge on the fact Elso was currently being investigated by naval intelligence over his alleged acceptance of bribes in exchange for ships under his command. If proven guilty (which was the likely outcome considering the mass of evidence against him) Elso would be branded a traitor and ejected from the Military and his chosen Kiith. Even if found innocent, the Admirals reputation would still be ruined.
"Do we have any idea's on who committed this outrage?"
"No. The attackers were thorough. They burned everything. No survivors. And all the data recorded during the attack has been corrupted by an electronic virus."
Hussaiid stared, unable to speak. Without the council or even anyone to blame for their violent demise, the remaining nations would turn on each other. Hostile confrontations were almost a certainty. Admiral Elso merely shrugged his shoulders and continued.
"It's getting mad back here, Admiral. The Frerrn are massing ships on the border. Fleet Intelligence estimates that they're going to make a move on the independent world of Kartun within a couple of days. We've also got reports of increased skirmishing between Imperial and Vaygr loyalist forces on the Imperial-Vaygr border. They're already taking advantage."
Hussaiid pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to cull the migraine that had suddenly set upon him. This couldn't be happening. It had only been thirty years since the last major war and the scars from that one -both physical and mental- had yet to fully heal. Sajuuk forbid, not another war already.
"And what of our response?" He replied. "Surely the Daiamid is reacting to these events?"
"The 2nd fleet along with the dreadnought has been rebased to the Eye of Aarran and a dozen reserve and rear guard fleets have been brought up to full mobilisation and placed on combat alert in case anyone decides to fuck with us."
Hussaiid frowned. As well as his drinking habit, Admiral Elso was also well known for his liberal use of bad language. Elso casually tossed in curses whilst talking and had a habit of launching into foul mouthed rants went angered, much like one of the faithless, theiving street-rats that could be found infesting the back alleys of the numerous "free-stations" dotted all over the galaxy, making him sometimes a rather unpleasant man to listen to.
"The 14th is one of the fleets placed on alert just in case the Vaygr decide to probe our borders." Elso casually retrieved a small ornate flask from off-screen and proceeded to fill his glass with more whiskey, ignoring Hussaiids bemused look.
"Needless to say, we won't be able to support you if things go to crap on your end. Or at least not immediately anyway."
Facing down an alien fleet -even with more than a two-to-one advantage- with no support or reinforcements was not Hussaiids idea of a good time. He shook his head as the migraine resurfaced and resumed his discomfort.
"What of the Republicans?" He muttered, gently clutching the side of his head as the pain began to fade. "They promised us ships and diplomatic specialists to assist with first contact."
"They were recalled to the Republican Capital." Elso answered immediately. "The Republicans are afraid the Vaygr will launch an assualt on their borders and are stalling any support they promised in case they're attacked. They are a bunch of useless fucking cowards."
"I would hardly go that far, Admiral." Hussaiid met his fellow Admirals eyes. Eyes that were like his: emotionless and detached. Eyes that were far too used to the grim sights of war."The Republicans are good allies, and their navy is competent and more than capable of holding its own. Their response to the threat of Vaygr attack is justified. We'll just have to make do without that reinforcing taskforce."
"Anyhow." Hussaiid quickly switched the subject to a matter that had been irritating him since they'd arrived. "The remains of the Alien warship on our side of the jumpgate, the wreck has been recovered, correct?"
Elso nodded before downing the contents of his tiny whiskey glass once more.
"A bunch of Kiith S'jets tugs and a couple of escorts showed up and dragged whats left of that thing off towards a research facility in the Wastes." Elso pointed off-screen, as if to emphasis the point.
"I'm not surprised. Three fusion mines went off inside that thing and most of the internal skeletons intact, though everything else is gone. Whatever alloy that things creepy frame is made from, its damned resilient. No wonder S'jets intrested."
"Admiral, sir." One of the Lieutenaunts in charge of his ships sensor systems -the same one he'd yelled at early to be precise- called for his attention from the other side of his ships vast command bridge.
"Another four alien vessels have just entered sensor range. Total alien compliment now stands at fourty-eight confirmed warships, fifteen unarmed vessels and two unknowns."
"Just when I thought I'd have time to chat..." Hussaiid glanced at the holographic displays of the new alien ships: two frigates and two destroyer analogs, the first alien reinforcements for almost twenty minutes.
"I'm sorry Admiral, but we'll need to cut this short. More pressing matters need to be dealt with."
"I understand." Elso replied, downing his third shot of whiskey. "I wish you the best of luck. I just hope this doesn't all blow up in our face..."
"The same Admiral, the same."
Hussaiid immediately switched his attention away from the dying holo-screen over to the massive command model tactical display that dominated the rear of the bridge showing clear as day the alien armada amassing before them. The Admirals tired eyes danced across the information presented before him, processing the alien formation as he tried to guess at what they were planning.
The Alien fleet was spread out over a width of around 60,000 kilometres and was clustered into several loose groups, each group comprised of ships that shared similiar design patterns. He pondered that for a moment. Different nations? Perhaps they weren't facing a single unified nation after all. The ships arranged before him bore absolutely no resemblence to the vessels identified during the attack. They were also far too organised, far too competent and took good care of their ships. Regardless, he'd need to mention his suspicion to the resident diplomatic officer present for first contact negotiations and see what he made of it.
"Admiral, looks like our friends are back, sir." The other sensors officer -a short blonde woman- called over the background noise. "The same nine ship strong squadron we first encountered. Three destroyer analogs and six frigates."
As if to emphasize her point, she pinged the contacts, causing the newly arrived formation to bleep and flash. They were -as she'd promised- the very same ships the 6th fleet had first encountered almost seven hours ago. The ships that made up the formation were unique bulky, rounded grey designs completely different from any other ship present in the alien fleet, possibly adding another new nation to the mix if his suspicions were correct.
Oddly, ship-to-ship chatter (chatter that the 6th fleet had...obtained access to, all in the name of research of course) had increased between the already present alien ships as the new group slunk up behind them and passed them (He marvelled at the speeds they could achieve, though their accelerations were oddly sluggish) and took position in an empty sector of space far removed from the others. Some of the chatter sounded angry. Offended even. Regardless of the meaning, every word uttered by the aliens was being recorded and analysed by the S'jetii science vessel attached to his fleet -the Biiel-Taal- as they worked (slowly) on a basic translation for the alien language.
"Biiel-Taal, are you getting this?"
"Every word, Admiral." The Biiel-Taal's politely spoken Captain replied. The Biiel-Taal was an ugly beast compared to the 6th fleets sleek warships. A large reconverted frieghter fitted with a vast superstructure and overhauled engines to deal with its increased bulk, the Biiel-Taal was the largest science vessel in service with the Navy though it's crew was solely from Kiith S'jet. The Biiel-Taal had been pulled away from its studying of some Progenitor relic out in the Wastes in order to act as the 6th fleets science arm, analysing any alien technology they could get their hands on as well as helping with other important tasks such as translation. Hussaiid had quickly come to dislike the Head Scientist aboard that ship, who'd made it abundantly clear he'd rather be somewhere else.
"The Science team has informed me that a basic translation should be ready for use soon, though they couldn't or wouldn't give an exact e.t.a."
"Typical Scientists." The Admiral shook his head. "Tell them to get a move on, Captain. they're already thirty minutes late. We need that translation protocol as soon as possible."
"Yes, of course Admiral." The Captain replied before cutting the feed.
Hussaiid was content with the Captains response. Hopefully the Captain could speed up those damned Scientists. He couldn't stress how important the translation protocol was to success of the entire mission. The 6th fleet couldn't even commence proper first contact until they had it.
But until the researchers completed it, he would just have to bide his time.
"Status report!"
The Koshiir-Ra was his illustrious flagship. Sixth vessel of her class and named after the old Hiigaran God of protection, the Longsword-class battleship was a veteran of a dozen bloody battles and skirmishes. The behemoth vessel had long proven its worth to both the Navy and her crew. She was more than capable of going toe-to-toe with entire cruiser squadrons without support and carried enough firepower to gut a battlecruiser with a dozen seconds worth of sustained fire. With her advanced command and control suites, she was more than capable of leading the combined elements of the 6th fleet.
But it didn't hurt to make sure she was ready for combat.
"Weaponry reports status green across the board. All weapons loaded and ready."
"Point Defences online. Minor energy fluctuations in defensive shields. Tracking problem to generator two. Solving."
"Engineering reports engines green, reactors green."
Hussaiid nodded his head in satisfaction as the command crew continued to drawl out status updates. The Koshiir-Ra was ready for battle if necessary. He just hoped it didn't come to that. The entire mission was overshadowed with the threat of war. Failure to end first contact peacefully would mean another war, a war that could easily prove fatal for Hiigara in the current state the galaxy was in after the assasination of the council. Any weakness, no matter how small, would be seized upon by Hiigara's enemies and used against them.
"Sir!" The female sensors officer called, completely shattering his chain of thought. "New contact just jumped in! This ones a big one, just under a kilometre. Marking as a heavy capital warship. It has multiple frigate escorts and strikecraft cover."
Hussaiid locked his eyes onto the new contact. It was a broad, pointed dagger shaped vessel with hard, sharp edges and two thick protrusions on either side towards the rear that reminded him of wings on an atmospheric craft. The heavy capital warship cruised into formation alongside the largest group of alien ships, all of which bore the same predatory, aggressive hull styling.
"So, they do have heavy Caps." He muttered as he continued to inspect the alien formation. The heavy Capital had nestled itself at the centre of the largest group of alien ships, whom had formed formation around it without fuss. It had to be some sort of command ship or taskforce leader for that particular group. Also, like every other alien vessel present, its thermal signature was far too weak, far smaller than the thermal signature a vessel that size should've had.
"Admiral, receiving a high priority transmission from the battlecruiser Guardian. Patching it through." The Koshiir-Ra's communications officer -a dark headed man many years Hussaiids junior with a habit of staring at the blonde sensors officer- called out before a crackle of static announced the opening of a new communications link.
"Admiral." The voice of the Captain on the other end of the comm link sounded stressed and confused. The Guardian's Captain was a good man: level headed and smart. The perfect man to lead a group of cruisers. Hearing him annoyed like that caused Hussaiids heart to sink. Something had gone wrong.
"We've just been hit by...uh... some- somekind of electronic warfare attack. Our own ECM systems weren't spun up and prepared for that kind of attack. They flash banged us and flooded our systems with data. It knocked our sensors and targetting systems right out. Thankfully, scans are showing they didn't break into any data, but we're totally blind until we can get the affected systems back online."
The silence that overcame the bridge in response to the announcement was startling. Surprise mixed with disbelief and anger. The aliens had just committed what was, in many of their eyes, a hostile attack.
"Damn it." Hussaiid stared at the tactical display, eyes set on the culprit. A dozen ECM suites across the fleet had tracked the electronic attack to its source: the heavy alien capital at the centre of the largest group. It was a probe at the Hiigaran defences. A test to see how they'd react. The Aliens were goading him to see if he'd attack. And it was working. Hundreds of targetting icons lit up the alien fleet as group leaders marked targets for the vessels under their command. Hundreds, perhaps even thousands of guns, missiles, ion cannons, ready to gut the alien force that was half their size and no where near their tonnage, all at his word.
That word would never come.
"They won't get what they want. I won't let it happen."
With a few swift taps of holographic icons, the fleet was given the automated message to stand down. Targetting solutions were cancelled and combat trajectories deleted. The Hiigarans would not fight today.
"Tell the Biiel-Taal that I need that translation software now!" Hussaiid didn't care that he was shouting. He had literally just managed to prevent the situation from escalating into a shooting war. The aliens had just committed an electronic assualt on one of his vessels. By all rights, he should have opened fire for that. Some of his more senior officers were even starting to question his decision. He had to end this. Now.
"The Biiel-Taal uploaded the software literally just as you were saying that, Admiral."
"Okay then. I'm going to initiate first contact, with or without the Ambassador present. I can't let this become another war. I just can't."
His palms began to sweat. This was it. This was where it was all decided. The translation software would be pretty basic to begin with, but as long as he got across who he was, who he was representing and that they came in peace, it didn't matter. The Ambassador could takeover from there.
"Broadcast on all frequencies. This is it."
The communications officer tapped in the commands as an awed silence came over the bridge. It was so quiet infact, he could hear the faint hum of the ships massive engines many metres towards the stern. All eyes were upon him as he cleared his throat, wiped his sweaty palms on his trousers and spoke clearly into the bridges audio receptors.
"This is Admiral Nirrhan Hussaiid, commanding officer of the 6th fleet of the Hiigaran Republic Navy. We come in peace and mean you no harm."
He swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat.
"Please respond."
To: Admiral Hiirahn Soban, commanding officer of the 3rd fleet
From: Director Liir Hraal, lead engineer on project "Firelance"
Admiral, I don't have much time at the moment, so I'll keep this brief. The project -as you know- has fallen far behind schedule and has required vastly more resources than initially predicted when we began. This mainly falls down to the heat management problem I mentioned during my last report. As I reported, the weapon will gut a fully shielded Vaygr model-38 battlecruiser with a single shot.
However, every time we fire the weapon, the heat build up from firing melts all the sensitive equipment: generators, power couplings, emitter arrays, the whole works and the repair work takes weeks and requires tonnes of materials. Even the addition of three external heat dissipation vents (which are massive structural weaknesses by the way) has done little to solve the problem.
I need you to get me permission to inspect the Progenitor designed Arrays on either the Gatekeeper of Sajuuk, or (even better) Sajuuk itself, in order to see how the Progenitor engineers dealt with the heat build up problem. Without access to one of those ships and their weapons systems I doubt the Project will be finished by the end of this year let alone the end of this Quarter as you asked. The completion of this project hinges on you, Admiral.
Good luck, Admiral. May Sajuuk guide your path.
End of Message
So, thats another chapter out there, in the wild that is . Remember to review or even just PM me if you liked it, or you have some criticism/questions.
Anyway, the next bit for me is too touch up/rewrite sections of chapter 1,5 and 6. Chapter 1 because it contradicts the rest of the fic in some places and chapters 5 and 6 because they were rushed and it shows in some places. If you've spotted anything wrong with those chapters, don't be afraid to message me and tell me. After that, I'll start writting chapter 8.
I wonder if anyone has noticed how much stuff (I hope) is going on in the background...