Commorragh, Fucken somewhere
The large Drukhari ships had begun to form into defensive lines to protect their homes, while the smaller craft charged forward to board the unfamiliar vessels that had dared to come to their city.
The Hekatarii had already departed from their colosseums towards the blocky ships when they received a message from their prey over... vox?
"Surrender"
Aboard the light cruiser Open Maw the command staff stared blankly at the message as if they weren't processing it. Their ship was still under cloak as it steamed forward towards the larger hunk of metal the Mon-keigh called a ship.
The first one to break the silence was the first mate "Do... do they expect a response?" The bridge crew began to chuckle at the stupidity of the newcomers.
Whether or not they were being serious they still shouldn't have ever come he-
The CA destroyer Carcinus's Claw had fired their lasers at the cloaked vessel approaching their starboard bow, but the enemy not knowing they were seen didn't matter as the lasers targeted the vitals of the ships.
Boarding craft launched from the cruiser Taunting the Abyss to try and capture the slave crew present on the Drukhari ship. The information provided by the craftworld had told them that the Drukhari excelled in melee and would always try to board their enemies.
When the Jas'gavas Throatblades heard of this they volunteered for the boarding action that would be heavily present in the naval battle.
The Cockratienchian captain privately wished the Drukhari some apologies under whispered breath for no one, not even them deserved to fight eager Throatblades.
The naval battle started to pick up speed as the first few enemies realized that their cloak wasn't working. They moved to outrun the blockade and begin their boarding action.
The battleships and cruisers lay dormant as a silent audience only firing the smallest of munitions to defend themselves or releasing boarding craft.
Unlike their massive kin the destroyers spread themselves thin like a bubble of steel around the portals that dotted the night city, firing their weapons at the ships that began to rush themselves to the fray. This wall of steel fired shot and shell into anything that dared to harm their entrance
The corvettes formed hunting parties and pursued after the ones that fled, shooting their engines and guarding their kill until the boarding craft arrived. Others began to lay siege to the fortresses that were swarmed with the fleeing upper class of the night city.
But this seeming sudden invasion was not left unanswered as the kabals rallied with their allies and began to form their counter attack.
They tore towards the hunting parties of corvettes and would overwhelm their shields, some were shot entirely to smithereens ejecting their crew into the hostile territory. The unlucky ones were boarded and the Drukhari unleashed their monsters unto the men of the CA.
Shark class corvette Kini's Knight, outside barracks 4
The armsmen of the UNE trained their guns on the black spiky maw that protruded through their home. The barracks were evacuated with security personnel staying completely silent waiting for the attackers to come bursting through.
The door opened slowly with a hissing of releasing pressure, and the moment a crack revealed itself the guns shot into the breach as a response. The poor fools didn't realize that their were two exits for the craft, as a tall alien in spiky black armour stuck his gun into the neck of the sergeant and severed the man's head.
a scantily clad woman with more knives than apparels of clothing hyped up on a concoction of accelerants tore through the soldiers. Automated turrets came down from the ceiling and were dealt with quickly with shurikens puncturing through the soft armour.
The wych carved her way through the armsmen who only realized what was happening when six out of the ten present hit the floor. She grabbed another knife and stuck it through the visor of the seventh, threw his body with enough force to knock down the eighth and ninth.
The tenth too close to fire their weapon leapt at her going for a tackle but she was faster as the wych leapt up and put her boot upon the cranium of the invader, and stomped his head into the ground burying it within metal and broken glass. Dead in an instant.
Standing with pride she looked down at her boot which had accumulated some blood from the tenth, scorning at the imperfection and sullying of her beautiful shoe she noticed something.
The blood was the lovely crimson shade of the Mon-Keigh. Her gaze turned toward the two struggling invaders trapped by their dead comrade, they froze as the wych approached.
Placing her sullied boot on the dead eighth and pinning down the last two she retrieved her knife lodged in the eighth's head. The invaders began to struggle futilely as she leaned down and carved away their metal skin.
Revealing... the panicked face of a Mon-Keigh. The wych grinned as she shared her detective work with her compatriot, who'd been dealing with the small reinforcements they had sent to kill them.
"It appears the dogs learned new tricks, they are Mon-Keigh brother" The armoured one walked over and stared at the captured prey turning to his sister.
"Do what you want with them but make it quick, we don't want to be caught up in the blast" The wych grinned as she turned back to the Mon-Keigh who'd remembered what the Drukhari did to prisoners. Their screams would join the growing chorus in the ship and a few others, as the Drukhari planted explosive charges throughout the ships.
Outside another side of the battle raged with nimble fighters and bombers darting around capital ships, the Nimokidoshi fighters leapt from group to group trying to hold back the swarm of enemy boarding craft and their escorts.
The CA fighters were fast but the Drukhari's were faster with many having open canopies with even more boarders hanging off of them.
Flak cannons of the CA fleet pumped their areas with dangerous shrapnel that tore many to pieces, but the absurdity of their prey's tactics was deadly.
A boarding craft being tailed by two "Nimos" had their dangerous cargo jump off their craft and land on their pursuers, who were torn out of the cockpit and thrown into the cityscape below.
Although equally as maneuverable the architecture provided an extra challenge for the CA Nimos who were occasionally crashing into the physics defying buildings.
During all of this a cloaked troop transport rocketed out of the Vancouver towards the central colossal spires surrounded by thirteen statues of their prey, but we'll get to that story in a minute.
The invasion which had been carefully put together by enough strategists to fill a gymnasium had turned to full chaos.
The naval invasion which began in the CA's favour waned as their corvette hunting groups began to get focused by the larger Drukhari ships. The corvettes would get hammered beyond recognition and crash into the dark city causing personnel equipment and causalities to be thrown over giant areas.
Though the operation had called for an invasion force large enough to form a star that size began to work against them. Ships trying to pursue the fast and nimble Drukhari vessels would get stuck unable to move for fear of smashing buildings, and left themselves vulnerable to the boarding squads that happily offered themselves to the meat grinder.
Only the elite anti boarding parties of the SES, massive squads of marines, or a throatblade detachment could save the doomed ships, and this costed the CA greatly.
The sheer thickness and density of CA ships made traffic jams for the larger ships body blocking anything larger than a cruiser.
It was only through overwhelming firepower did the CA forces manage to clear a 'safe' space in the war zone. The naval battle raged as the secured warp gates began to carve pathways to each other, linking the near isolated fleets with the queen bee of the operation the Vancouver.
This linkage also created walls to herd the Drukhari forces as special turret deployers ran up and down the lanes. The naval battle only turned up in speed as the cruisers began to file into these zones to tear apart the segmented fleet
Weaponry turned the dark city skyline into an ever changing swirling mass of colour and absence of light that could blind those who stared for too long, and after a few long hours the painting died as the guns went silent.
Lumbering forms of the wounded ships trailed back to the safe haven of friendly ships, but the cruisers though victorious in their hunt came back missing a few too many of their number. Underneath the cruisers another problem had formed
The city already a problem to navigate to anyone that didn't understand its 'unique' architecture had turned into a physical nightmare. Crashed ships left giant trails of fire and broken homes as the after affect of using them as runways proved too much for the buildings to handle. They collapsed unto each other or the wrecks of the CA and Drukhari fleet.
Slaves had begun to riot in every section of the city and the streets were turned into rivers of people that crashed against the rocks that were the Drukhari soldiers. Wild and without direction the slaves tore across the city, anything they came across they looted or killed and if they had nothing to devour or to destroy old hatred flared.
Slaves killed the citizens that had ruled over them throwing them off the towers that were their homes, slaves ran into the incoming Drukhari army and overwhelmed them with scavenged weapons and body mass, slaves killed slaves as anyone with a different skin or physiology was torn apart by the human majority.
Soon they ran into the crashed ships and there they stopped. Hubs of various former command personnel formed within minutes and fortified the wrecks. You could feel the heat produced by the clustering slaves up in orbit. Fires and smoke soon sprouted from these camp which attracted only more freed slaves.
Surviving CA marines, navy men, armsmen, technical, and command personnel tried to keep their ships from exploding and securing their supplies
one of Commoragh's merchant districts, Wreck of the cruiser Silam's Bastion, Breach
Fourteen armsmen, a squad of marines, a sergeant from a dead squad of marines, three junior officers from the bridge, and one unlucky engineer who'd had the release mechanism on his M.A.R.S. (Maintenance And Repair Suit) had gathered behind the one way self sealing forcefield looking out at the crowd that was pillaging the wreck's scattered supplies.
From the slaves point of view a harsh blue field had blocked off any potential point of entry to the main parts of the ship, but behind it the assembled crew was drawing straws.
2nd class engineering specialist Anthony Alderfer cursed every molecule in the universe at his luck that resulted in his suit jamming, their motley crew being separated from any kind of higher ups, his AI assistant Jerry constantly complaining about how he should've double checked the release on the pressurization, and the very short straw he now held in his hand.
Looking around he contemplated on where the sergeant had acquired straws, but he mainly focused on the fact that he most definitely held the shortest one.
In order for the men in front of Anthony to reconnect with the rest of the crew he needed to go outside the ship and reach the backup external panel for the flickering internal forcefield control.
Right now anyone who tried to cross would've been severed in half, and they were surrounded by increasingly unstable plasma fuel lines that only ran through this specific section of the ship.
Cutting around the forcefield means they could hit the plasma and the die. Going through the forcefield was death and sitting on their asses waiting for the unstable plasma to blow up wasn't an option either. Anthony being an engineer pointed out that the forcefield could be turned off, and his blabbering mouth led him to be standing in front of one of the airlocks with many men wishing him luck.
Jerry the class 3 AI chirped in just to be extra helpful "Assessment: The odds of mob ripping pilot out of the suit is... ... 79%"
"If I knew you were going to be this cheerful I would've selected a different buddy in specialist school"
"Reminder: Current objective takes priority over personal emotions, try to focus yourself pilot"
"This translation program still works though, right?"
"Diagnostic check: All old and recently added functions are still in working order in exception to-"
"If you tell me that the depressurization of the suit is malfunctioning I swear to-" the threat and miniature argument was cut abruptly by the airlock blowing and throwing the engineer into the wreckage like a meteor
The loud noise and following curses caused Anthony to begin his 40 metre scurry to the access panel. Heavy footsteps of the suit made the supposedly stealthy sprint sound like the clomping of a steel horse.
Ignoring two safety procedures Anthony ripped the panel open and furiously began to power down the force field by isolating power cables and severing their connection.
Shouts of surprise echoed behind him as he finished his work. Turning around he stood staring like a deer in headlights at a small crowd only 10 feet away that was rapidly growing in size. In the front was a five foot ten inches woman with bright wildfire orange hair.
Praena stood in amazement at the metal man in front of her. Easily taller than any of her brothers it towered over the crowd. Humanoid in shape it was bulky and had lights emanating from it. Its head a helmet with an opaque gold glass shielded its face.
Praena heard whispers of the crowd behind her "Space marine" "metal man" "servitor". Self preservation abandoned she took a step toward it, but no one followed behind her.
Anthony tried to move his suit which had crapped its servos into the inner workings of the M.A.R.S. and they jangled every time he tried to move the suit.
Praena slowly paced forward as if she was approaching a wounded animal from her family's farm. The metal man made no movements from what she could tell.
"Jerry we really need to move and get out of here!"
"Diagnostic: Servos have fully failed due to crashes impact, multiple systems and internal hardware has been damaged. The Translation program has failed, but pressurization has resynched with environment"
"You want me to leave you here and run away unprotected?! We'll both die"
"Assessment: Pilot, run quickly and you'll survive. There is also a recalculation on death by mob which has lowered by 62% to 17% Good luck pilot"
Anthony had no time to argue as the suit slowly rattled and shook with it peeling away from the front.
The crowd gasped in shock as the metal man vomited out a humanoid figure who quickly scrambled to their feet
Covered in a mixture of a uniform and metal skeleton that bracketed around their body the face of the creature had been revealed. It was human
The man began into a sprint for the bulkhead that'd ejected him but the crowd was faster and they latched onto him with more hands than probably needed.
Praena watched the man be moved through the crowd as hands scraped and clawed at his clothes and skin in desperation or disbelief. The man was subsumed by the horde and was brought to the hub of the ramshackle camp
The wrecked bastions of CA would not go unassailed for long though. Skillful Drukhari swept through their city's streets collecting scattered survivors and soon they found out the most delightful news. Their attackers were mainly human and the Drukhari were the more than pleased to be their hosts for that evenings banquet of pain and carnage.
Outside the hulk's walls they would peer their comrades being given gifts of pain. Some tried to rescue their lost crew but those parties were devoured either by the desperate slave who wanted answers or the Drukhari who were quickly assembling a collection of effigies to the most wonderful part of the psyche: the pain receptors in a human brain
Pain is what awaited the UNE fleets in this city for spiked nightmares and pain was the only true fundamental part of the universe that was noble to explore like the Drukhari had done. Their findings to be shared to the newcomers
The UNE knew they would win but they would suffer for the victory they placed as the end goal. The naval battle won the fleets stood ready for phase 2: to descend into hell for no better reason than to help people they don't know and would probably try to kill them once they learned more.
Retrieving UNE file
... ...
File found, File name: Throatblades
During the unification of the Jas'gavashome world long ago Kelpak the mighty boasted that during his travels and conquest that his retinue had no bodyguards among them. It was recorded that a warrior as mighty as Kelpak would never need protection from any kind of combat.
This claim lasted until the advancements in technology that Kelpak's empire spread to other nations. The invention of bows was of particular concern to Kelpak's advisers and generals.
The empire was still heavily dependant on Kelpak's charisma and tactical ability, and if Kelpak were to fall before he unified the planet the empire would fall after him.
To prevent such a problem Kelpak's dancer retinue was slowly trained to or replaced with warriors who became experts in their field. Along Kelpak's historical life the dancer retinue's abilities became more widely known.
A fighting style evolved from the two careers being known as "Gikuna ia Bormuus" which translates: Dance of Death. This continued practice and unique fighting style kept Kelpak safe during and after the unification of their world.
After Kelpak's death the unit was used as an honour guard to the Command Council and the Senate, in this role they evolved in more of a stewardship role for the factions of democracy by preventing infighting.
After the discovery of gunpowder the dancers became a more ceremonial unit for children of noble descent. During this time a degeneration of combat techniques happened and major parts of the Dance of Death was forgotten.
The technological exchange program between the Raltek Kingdom and the Holy Jas'gavas empire led to wide acceptance of shields for ships and cities. The current emperor at the time saw an opening for a personal army/kill squad.
A secret program was made to advance the technology given by the Raltek into the first smaller portable shield generator. The program succeeded and was implemented into the secretly reformed Dancers, now renamed and retrained by recovered texts and a new battle doctrine.
This reform was kept in secret from the senate and when it was completed the emperor staged a military takeover. Using his new personal army which had personal shield generators and exobattlesuits the emperor was successful in his coup.
It lasted for 92 days before the emperor's army killed him and reformed the senate. "Lokifa" was enacted to the rouge emperor and they were scrubbed from every personal record, only the crime was recorded since their name, identity, and all other things have been considered contraband by the Jas'gavas
Now needing another protective force for the senate of good competence the dancer units were renamed.
Throatblades have a kind of exobattlesuits and shield generators. Though their name misleading the Throatblades are under a vow of silence as penance for their actions during the rouge emperor's reign.
Every limb of the Throatblades has a blade gauntlet and not a millimeter of skin is shown. Their most prominent feature is the sound speaker system that emits ancient music. It consists of drums and singing that if exposed to for long periods of time will cause hearing damage
Communication still a necessity in military operation they communicate by a sign language identifier that translates with the speaker systems.
"I made you. I made you the perfect warriors of our kind, give you the best of weapons, and the power to do as you please and you betray me? How arrogant of you to assume that this empire will continue without me, and that you could fix it with blades and gusto. I invite you to try to become a fraction of what we could do together. Take your ambition, your stupidity, your desire for an unachievable goal and strike me down... I hope it drags you to oblivion because I'll have already made it my new kingdom down there." -DATA REMOVED by EXPUNGED, speaking to the Lord Seeker of the Throatblades shortly before decapitation and thrown off his mountain fortress
Kept you waiting huh? Sorry about my consistent schedule of giving myself a deadline and then missing it massively. This chapter caused some kind of writer's block with my recurring nemesis rearing its head at me: numbers.
I've kinda taken the lazy way out on this problem for awhile now and I see in the reviews it's kinda caused some people to assume that this'll just turn into a steamroll. I get that because as a reader nothing is more boring than good guys winning with no drawbacks at all, but I assure you the problems will be relevant soon.
But back to the numbers. To research this stuff for the sake of a "realistic" approach to a story does have a solid point: my story will be better if I keep it on a level field. My issue with the numbers is that trying to create a faction that would be just adept in fields I want them to succeed in and disabled in their flaws turns into nightmare when I'd have to consider every set of numbers from every faction. This faction will look overpowered from an entirely numbers perspective, but I really don't want to consider the amount of pellets in a cool sci-fi shotgun's shells if I say 50 just roll with it.
These numbers aren't permanent neither if you think a ship is too big or gun to powerful for that role then change it, harass me in the comments, PM with your super space tank design "Lemon Rust", complain to me by Morse code through a light box aimed through my bedroom window and I'll change it to the numbers you give me. I'm not going to rewrite these old chapters. Am I exploiting the kindhearted reviewers who sacrifice their time to read my story and think enough about it to leave a suggestion? Yes, and the guilt will go away soon.
Speaking of my madlad reviewers I'd like to take this moment to commend both Wessielk and ExcaliburShooter for reading the entire thing in like a day each and leaving insightful reviews of every chapter, because I don't know how PMs work so I'm telling ya here.
And to the old guys in back like Indeedjaffa thank you for waiting so long for me to keep you entertained. Without you I'd probably still be writing like chapter 1 and that shit was cringe. Thank you from the bottom of the cavity of where my heart used to be, because up next we have pain and suffering in the night city and imma make it fun ;)