AN
Soz, accidently deleted Chapter 9, meant to update it. :p
This has been slightly re-written, mostly added a little description/re-worded some of Hussaiids POV. Will probably edit it a bit more like I did to chapter 5 (the bottom half of that chapter was massively re-written by the way).
He grinned as his ships heavy forward guns tore open the guts of the rebel destroyer. Atmosphere exploded from the gaping wounds the heavy slugs had inflicted, long trails of debris gushing forth from the gashes in the ships hull like the lifeblood of some great creature. A half dozen missiles impacted along the crippled ships back, ripping off the dorsal kinetic gun and igniting the destroyers own fusion missiles in their launchers. The hull of the destroyer seemed to bend as it tried to contain the fury of its own arsenal, before it twisted and split in half. The explosion set off the destroyers reactor and the whole damned thing went up, the bridge viewports automatically polarising to protect himself and his crew from the flash. His grin, as impossible as it seemed, grew wider at the death of the rebel ship and all onboard.
"Bring us about." He ordered, marking another target on the CIC holo-screen. A damaged rebel missile frigate -it's yellow and brown hull covered in clan symbols- was keeping up a sustained bombardment on one his pack mates as they tore into a wounded battlecruiser. A single barrage from his ships four nose-mounted heavy guns was all it took to silence the frigate, its engines flickering on and off as escape pods fired from its warped hull. Gleefully he ordered the pods destroyed as his ship thundered past, plasma lance shots cracking their shells and flash frying the gods-damned bastards inside.
Five years ago he'd have never dared dream of this day. Five years ago it had felt like the rebels had had no end to their numbers. The amount of times he'd had to retreat like a dog before their assualts, trying to thin out what had seemed like an endless horde, whos only goal was to drag his people back into the old ways and undo all the progress they'd made under Makaans leadership. Makaan had made his people strong and these fools would have them peel back the advances they'd made for the sake of tradition. In the end, the rebels had been the first to shed the blood of the innocent. They'd burned worlds that they'd deemed too hard to take. Millions had perished at the hands of cowards and fools, brave warriors and defenceless civilians reduced to nothing by the most horrible of weapons whilst he'd watched, powerless to stop the armada laying waste to his very home.
Since then they'd rallied and rebuilt, entire fleets rising from the ashes. Bit by bloody bit they'd pushed the rebels back until the vermin were forced to flee to the darkest depths of the Reaches, dragging their poisonous ideals with them. There would be no peace, no chance for surrender. They would all burn like the people on his world. For five damned years he'd struggled against them, risking life and limb to end the people who'd taken everything from him. It was the will of Sajuuk that he'd made it this far intact.
In the end, their old ways were their undoing. Opting to live aboard their ships like in the old times made them easy targets. Clan after Clan, Crusade fleet after Crusade fleet, they were hunted down like the vermin they were and exterminated. Warships, Shipyards, Agricultural Vessels, Live Ships, everything was destroyed and left to burn and rot. It was justice for what they'd done, for what they'd taken from him.
Now they were left with one stronghold, one stronghold and they would be scattered to the wind, the old ways confined to the history books where they damn well belonged. It would be a devastating victory for the True Vaygr.
"Commander Patar!" His XO shouted out, prodding him with a slender finger, snapping him back to the battle at hand. His ship shook slightly to the impact of a dozen heavy slugs as an enemy cruiser -complete with flanking destroyers- bore down on his flanks.
"Orders, sir?" His shorter, younger, blonde headed and fairly nice looking XO enquired, placing a hand to her hip.
"Go evasive." He shouted, tapping a couple of icons on the holo-display. Two of the cruisers under his command instantly broke contact and were at his side in seconds, the combined fire from the two ships shattering one of the escorting rebel destroyers.
"Salvo our missile batteries," He continued as his ship accelerated. "rapid fire."
His cruiser rolled and dove, evading a barrage of slugs from the enemy cruiser and plunging through the chaos of two fleets engaging at point blank range, sometimes no more than a few kilometres apart The enemy cruisers engine bank flared as it moved to follow, ignoring his pack mates as they tore its escorts in half, fusion missiles streaming from its spinal mounted launcher. Plasma lance bolts from both his ship and two nearby frigates downed half the missiles but the remaining three impacted and his ships Hiigaran designed shields collapsed.
"Armour is at 95% on engineering deck 3." One of the command crew called. "Shields are down and recharging."
He shook his head slightly. They'd barely scratched the paint. "Bring us about, target their reactor. Let us end this little brawl."
His ship spun round on its axis, massive fusion torch engines firing as the 668 metre long cruiser turned to face its foe. The enemy cruiser was bearing down on them at flank speed, plasma lance lasers and burst guns lashing out at three allied missile corvettes as they slammed concussion missiles into its flanks as it slowed and dropped its nose to compensate for its preys sudden maneuver.
They were too slow.
"Fire!" He shouted, his ships heavy guns thundering in response as missiles leapt from their launchers and accelerated towards the enemy cruisers exposed belly. The kinetic slugs dropped the enemy vessels shields, one round going on to leave a deep crater in the ships thick armoured hide. Lance lasers flashed and six missiles became five, but those five were still enough to crack open the cruisers armoured belly and expose her lower decks to the cruel, cold darkness of space. He smiled in satisfaction as he watched shattered armour and hull snake away from the damaged rebel ship. The guns salvoed again, smashing through what little armour was left on the enemies underside, burrying themselves deep inside the cruisers guts. There was a flash and the ship split apart neatly, the lights flickering off in both halves as the power died, a cloud of debris forming around the shattered hulk like a pool of blood around a body. He'd slain another of his foes, another of the murderers gone, yet all he saw was the fires burning his family far below.
"Bring us out of here, take us to the flagship." He said suddenly as he tapped another icon on the holo-display, recalling the rest of his cruiser pack. His XO and his Helm officer looked uncertainly at each other before nodding at the same time and before long they were quickly accelerating away from the battle, his ship soaring past and through the shattered forms of perhaps hundreds of warships, both allied and not. The entire sector was now a graveyard, a monument to the madness that had consumed his people.
Admiral Hakkane's flagship stood at the heart of an eighty ship strong formation that was sitting far from the current fight against the retreating bulk of the rebel fleet. The Admirals fleet was laying waste to their fortress -Hal Vashir- plasma bolts, missiles and kinetic slugs slamming into the stations crumbling armoured form. The weaponry emplacements that had covered the station were now slagged and charred, the entire structure coming apart and falling away under the sustained fire of an entire fleet. Dozens of rebel ships had been destroyed at their docks, and the space around the station was filled with the remains of both mobile and immobile shipyards, agricultural vessels and scores of small cargo barges.
"Sir?" His XO enquired tentatively as she appeared in the left corner of his vision.
"I need to see this." He whispered, staring out the bridge viewports at the massive structure. The station was huge, visible even as he and the remains of his cruiser pack sat immobile one hundred kilometres away. This was it, this was the end for the scum who'd taken his kin from him.
His XO became quiet as she too joined him in watching the station as it imploded, removing itself from the face of reality. A flash, so bright, like a sun being born -warning tones sounding across the bridge- and then nothing, only the tiniest pieces of molten debris left as a remainder of the three kilometre tall station that had once existed here. The rebels last stronghold was gone. Destroyed. Annihilated. He should feel something.
"That's it." He breathed as the light faded away to darkness, shattering the awed silence that had overcome his bridge. His next words should have been triumphant and loud but instead they came out lame and tired. Five years of brutal civil war had finally ended. The rebels would never recover from this defeat, he had played his part in their downfall, he had his revenge... and he felt nothing.
"It's over. We have won."
Admiral Nirrhan Hussaiid awoke with a start, his body, his thin naval issue cover and his cot drenched with sweat. His eyes strained against the brightness of the overhead light as it came on automatically, his mind still reeling from memories he'd tried so hard to cover up and forget.
"Damn." He whispered as he slowly sat upright. His hands were shaking. "Damn."
Slowly, carefully, he began to trace the faded tear of the shrapnel wound running down the right hand side of his face, from the tip of his ear all the way down to his jawline: both it and his artificial right eye a parting gift from Makaan's Elite Guard during the dieing throes of the Vaygr War. With a wince he drew his hand away from the scar, forcing away the images filling his head, burying yet another fresh reminder of his helplessness, the burning, agonising pain... and the blank faces of those who hadn't been quite as lucky as him.
Hussaiid rubbed his eyes. The Vaygr War -and the cycle of seemingly endless hate fuelled conflict that had followed it's conclusion- had left him with far more than just physical scars. Thirty or so years of on and off fighting as a member of a dozen different fleets had left him with quite a number of former friends, all of whom had a nasty habit of visiting him every now and again in his late-night dreams.
Most of the time he simply tried his hardest just to forget them all.
"Pull yourself together, Nirrhan." He whispered through clenched teeth, his voice coming out hoarser than he'd expected, his eyes staring down the neatly folded uniform sitting on his desk at the otherside of the small room. "People depend on you, you fool. You've had nightmares before. You can't sit and feel sorry for yourself."
Ten minutes later and he was dressed and presentable, walking briskly towards the bridge of his flagship, his footsteps echoing off the solid metal floor, unpleasant memories already buried and forgotten. The two hardsuited marines standing guard outside snapped him a crisp salute as he strode past them, the armoured security bulkhead sliding open with a hiss as he returned a slightly less enthusiastic salute of his own before stepping through.
The Koshiir-Ra's bridge was -as always- a hub of frantic but ordered activity. The command crew were sat working away at their consoles or stations, talking quietly amongst themselves as they went, their faces illuminated by their displays in the bridges dimmed lighting. The CnC tactical holographic display towards the rear of the bridge was humming away, a gigantic, semi-transparent map of the surrounding sector -complete with icon representations of every known contact in a forty-five thousand kilometre radius- floating above it. Several senior bridge officers were also gathered around it, monitoring the positions and activites of the 6th fleets many vessels.
It was a familiar scene, one he'd walked in on a thousand times before.
"Captain Kel!" Hussaiid called, quickly glancing at the tactical display as he walked past, noting a large group of friendly contacts that hadn't been there when he'd left the bridge several hours earlier. "I've got the bridge. You can go and get yourself some rest."
"Yes sir!" His second in command -a broad shouldered, dark headed and tanned member of Kiith Nabaal- replied gratefully as he turned to head towards the door, only to stop and turn back to face Hussaiid after two steps. "Oh, sir, I almost forgot. The 3rd fleet arrived a few hours ago and Admiral Soban has been asking for you to get in contact with him as soon as you are able."
"Very well." Hussaiid nodded in reply, waving his XO away, his expression neutral even as his mind was racing. Admiral Hiirahn Soban was an intresting individual. He was a brilliant tactician, a veteran of the Vaygr War like a good majority of the Navy's senior command staff. A good career and very good ties with his Kiith gave him influence that was almost above his station, with many considering him one of the most influential members of the Hiigaran navy. However, his command style could be best described as... aggressive and he was an outspoken critic of the Daiamids soft -as he put it- approach to dealing with threats on Hiigara's borders. Despite his prowess, he would certainly not have been Hussaiids first choice to be present in a situation that was as fragile as this.
'Fragile.' He smiled slightly. 'That described First Contact and everything that had come after it very well indeed.'
Hussaiid shook his head slowly, glancing out beyond the bridge's armoured viewports, out at the sleek, curved, double-hulled form of the "Mass Relay" (as the aliens had labelled it in their first contact package) floating serenely a mere sixty kilometres before his flagship, it's silver hull plating standing out proudly against the dingy brown gloom of the surrounding dust, the great blue core glowing bright like a sort of beacon in the dark, two supportless rings spinning endlessly and tirelessly around it. A pair of sleek, frigate-sized science vessels adorned with the colours and sigil of Kiith S'jet were holding position side by side literally metres from the surface of its hull, pressed in as close as they dared get in order to avoid a collision with any ships transitioning through from the otherside.
"Communications. Contact the Angel Moon, 3rd fleet flagship." The communications officer nodded, obediently tapping commands into his console. Hussaiid's eyes, however, remained fixed on the foreign construct looming before him. A week ago he and his fleet had ventured through that thing into the unknown. He'd stopped a war. The aliens, the council warships he'd faced, had given him more than enough reason to attack: their incomprehensible and unprovoked electronic assualt on the battlecruiser Guardian could have easily been the spark igniting an inter-galactic war... but he'd refused to fire. Hiigara had seen enough bloodshed, and the attack had turned out to be a mistake... of sorts. The Alien -the Asari- he'd spoken briefly with (though over an audio only channel, it had been the Ambassador who'd had the pleasure of speaking face to face) had done her best to make that clear enough to him and -whilst he'd still been angry (at their stupidity if nothing else)- he'd dropped the matter. The politicians could sort out the finer details later if they wished. He wasn't a trained diplomat. It wasn't his job to argue with aliens.
But it was his job to defend Hiigara from any and all outside threats. And -until the diplomatic party had finally met the alien council face-to-face and the Daiamid had informed him otherwise- those threats included the multiple nations and races sitting on the otherside of that "Relay". Fleet Command agreed with his sentiment and had been drip feeding reinforcements into the area until the force guarding the "Relay" now numbered in at just over two hundred ships, including a mobile shipyard (humorously named Ponderous) and a dozen automated anti-fighter and anti-frigate gun platforms. The 3rd fleets sudden arrival added almost another hundred vessels to that number. The sheer number of ships present, combined with the natural chokepoint the "Relay" created, meant that any assault from the otherside would be a bloody, bloody battle for the attacker.
"The Angel Moon is responding, sir." The communications officer suddenly said, interrupting Hussaiids train of thought. "Shall I put it on the main screen?"
"Yes, do that." Hussaiid replied curtly, turning and heading back towards the bridges main holographic display as a translucent, scale image of the 3rd fleets commanding officer appeared on the vid screen. Admiral Hiirahn Soban was not a pretty man. His face was thin and guant, with a hawkish nose and thick, bushy eyebrows, set over thin lips that gave the man an unsettling smile. He was dressed in the same blue and white uniform as Hussaiid, though Sobans peaked cap and shoulders bore the 3rd fleets hollow hexagonal insignia rather than the proud, golden shield of 6th fleet.
"Admiral Nirrhan Hussaiid." Admiral Soban greeted in his characteristically loud voice, his features twisted as he regarded Hussaiid with a look that was part respect, part annoyance. "I was actually beginning to wonder whether you were intentionally ignoring me."
"Admiral Hiirahn Soban." Hussaiid replied with a slight nod, unsure how he was supposed to take that little remark. After a three second long internal debate, he settled upon sincerity. "I apologise for my lateness. I was unaware that the 3rd fleet would be joining us out here."
"That's to be expected." Admiral Soban answered bluntly, folding his thin arms across his chest. "Your absence from the Daiamid Assembly was..." He paused momentarily, searching for the right word. "...unfourtunate, but unavoidable due to the circumstances. The information presented in your report was very informative, but certain parts caused quite a controversy."
"Please tell." Hussaiid remarked dryly, already knowing what to expect. "I assume it has something to do with your fleets presence here."
"It has everything to do with it." Admiral Soban replied, his face suddenly becoming alot sterner, his arms still crossed across his chest. "The attack on the Guardian highlighted the fear that many amongst the Daiamid already had, that these 'Aliens' might attack us without provocation. As a precaution the Council decided that the 3rd would be deployed to bolster defences here incase the coming talks breakdown or these Aliens decide to push their luck once more."
"Let us hope that this precaution is not needed." Hussaiid replied. He already knew why the 3rd had been picked over the multitude of other fleets that could have been sent in its place. Admiral Sobans close ties with the current Soban-sa was a well known secret amongst higher circles of the Navy. With the influence Soban wielded amongst his own Kiith it was little wonder that the 3rd had been the force picked for this task and it annoyed Hussaiid immensely.
Admiral Soban, oblivious to his thoughts, hesitantly nodded his agreement with Hussaiids words.
"We will just have to see." The Sobani Admiral said after a moments pause. "The Ambassadorial force will arrive in a few hours. Sajuuk knows what the outcome of this meeting will be."
"The Ambassador, who is it that the Daiamid elected to send?" Hussaiid asked.
"Ambassador Arla Vasaan, of Kiith S'jet." Admiral Soban answered quickly, watching through curious eyes as Hussaiid nodded his head slightly in recognition of the name. "She's an interesting woman. If I remember right, you have both already met."
"Yes, we have, though I would not say we are well acquainted." Hussaiid replied. Arla Vasaan had been the ambassador attached to his fleet when they'd first jumped through the Relay. She had handled the whole debacle with the Alien fleet admirably and it came as no real surprise that she had been the one chosen by the Daiamid to represent the Hiigaran people in their first meeting with the Alien Council. However, he had spoken little to her when she was aboard his flagship. He had simply seen no need, having been pre-occupied with more pressing concerns, such as organising and commanding his fleet. He had therefore kept his interactions with her to the most basic of pleasantries.
"We spoke, briefly." He continued after a seconds pause. "Formal introductions and such, you know how it can be sometimes." Admiral Soban nodded his head slightly, indicating his understanding."
"I am, however, not surprised the Daiamid picked her." Hussaiid continued. "Though I have a feeling her being of Kiith S'jet is no coincidence."
Admiral Sobans face soured.
"Obviously. The Ambassador had the backing of Karan S'jet herself." Admiral Soban replied, completely blind to the irony of his own words much to Hussaiids amusement. "Whilst Arla Vasaan has first hand experience in dealing with these Aliens, there are more... capable -shall we say- Councillors or Diplomats who could have been sent in her place. However, once S'jet has had her say, there are very few amongst the Council who will dare speak against her."
"With good reason. When has Karan ever been wrong?" Hussaiid thought quietly to himself, before opting for a less confrontational response. "The Ambassador has already proven her worth during last weeks events. I am sure she will handle this meeting just fine."
"Such belief in a person you barely even know." Admiral Soban replied smugly, narrowing his eyes ever so slightly. Hussaiid bristled but said nothing.
"In the end we just have to wait and see." Admiral Soban continued briskly. "I just hope S'jet has not chosen wrongly."
Hussaiid nodded politely, desperate for this line of conversation to end.
"The Republicans have also elected to send an Ambassador." Admiral Soban went on after Hussaiids moment of silence. "However, they have not told us who."
"I'm surprised they decided to send anyone at all." Hussaiid added, frowning as he recalled some of the worrying reports he'd read over the past few days. The Taiidan Republic was suffering from a rash of pro-Imperialist demonstrations, violent riots and even bombings on their colonies in their Northern territories, the worlds bordering territory held by the Imperial Remnants. The bombings -mostly directed against government buildings- had claimed dozens of lives and Republican security forces were locked in brutal running street battles against rioters. Adding to the turmoil, the Imperial Navy itself had begun launching raids into Republic territory in recent days, raids that the over-stretched Republican navy were being hard pressed to contain. "Considering the issues they've been having over the past couple weeks."
"I was equally surprised. But they are sending an Ambassador and two or three ships."
"Anyhow, I assume you also haven't heard about Admiral, or -more precisely- Ex-Admiral Rahn Elso?" Admiral Soban began after a moments pause as he quickly scanned the contents of a datapad handed to him by an off-screen subordinate.
"Suprisingly that is one of the few things I have heard." Hussaiid replied with a slight grin. Alesha Nabaal -having been stripped of all of her power by her disgraced father and having also lost her place on the Council- had willingly supplied Kiith Kaalels intelligence agents with everything they'd needed to arrest Elso on charges of corruption and to hit the two Cruiser Captains that had also been involved with lesser charges. The Captains were to be suspended and demoted but would keep their jobs. Admiral Elso would not. "I'm surprised that he managed to stay sober for his own hearing."
"He is a disgrace." Admiral Soban almost spat, his eyebrows furrowing into a fearsome scowl. "Accepting bribes from the Nabaal-sa's jumped up daughter. He has damaged the Navy's reputation and honour with his actions. He is a drunken fool and deserves his punishment, though -admittedly- were it not for his brash actions we would never have found this "Relay" thing." He finished, gesturing towards said object off-screen.
"That is true." Hussaiid agreed. "His idiocy atleast accomplished some good."
"Is it really a good thing though?" Admiral Soban interjected, gesturing towards Hussaiid with his right hand. "Finding this "Relay" has brought us the very real threat of another war, has tied up fleet resources and has played its part in the destabilisation of the relative political calm of the last couple years, though the destruction of the Galactic Council played an obviously bigger part. Even if we avoid war it still brings another three or four players, perhaps more, to an already shakey, hate-filled political scene. So, I ask again, is it really a good thing?"
"It is like all things, Admiral." Hussaiid began after a moments pause to consider his fellow Admirals words. "Perhaps it will turnout as you say, a war and instability. Perhaps, on the other hand, it will give us a chance to expand, a chance for us to make friends and allies. You and I cannot predict what will happen. We just need to hope for the best, see how it turns out and then clean up the mess if it all falls apart."
AN
I am aware that this is not the greatest chapter in this story, I will attempt to touch it up though.
Will probably begin working on Chapter 10 soon-ish(tm)