Imperium Galactica: Nightfall [Open]

Personal Quarters of the Ship Sayyt, Taer Atlos

Ayyal had retreated to their personal ship soon after the election of Margrave Rhodes to the position of Regnier. Despite being the current head of their house, they had always felt more comfortable outside of large crowds and in relative isolation or among those few that they trusted. A live feed of Margrave - no, it would be Regnier for the time being, Ayyal admitted - Rhodes addressing the populace of Taer Atlos sat on one screen while various panels regarding the state of their houses military numbers filled the other. What could vessels House Nazdi spare to the throneworld? Though quite capable in a military sense, with an effective navy, this fact was necessitated by the House's location in the Northern Marches of the galaxy, which were more wild than the core worlds and needed a stronger guiding hand and a larger military presence. Their House flagship, the Kilaalmesh, was already in a nearby system, along with the cruiser Istaara, the destroyers Urkayu and Aawriti, and the frigates Samsa and Urak, as well as a few scores of less notable ships of varying sizes. These would be invaluable contributions to the ad-hoc fleet Regnier Rhodes was assembling, but Ayyal had the gnawing worry that they were not enough.

The Margrave sent a message to Regnier Rhodes, their respirator lending a humming, slightly synthetic tinge to their voice, its effect compounded by the compression of the channel, "Regnier Rhodes, as is my House's duty to the throneworld and the empire as a whole, I, Margrave of House Nazdi, will offer my personal support. In addition, I am pledging a portion of House Nazdi's fleet to the defense of the throneworld at your request. Be at peace."

Ayyal then opened a communique to the Captain of the Kilaalmesh, Admiral Afalyyan Setsin, who responded quickly. Afalyyan spoke, voice level, though Ayyal could tell he was appreciative of the change of pace, "Ukhanyyar* Ayyal, how may I assist you?"

Ayyal responded, "Admiral, the Kilaalmesh and her contingent are necessary to protect Taer Atlos now. The head of House Rhodes was elected Regnier and has not received any response from Grand Admiral Rian, so it is up to the Houses to defend the throneworld. However, I am worried that your fleet, such as it is, will not be sufficient. Do you know what vessels else we can spare from their duties in the Houses's territory?"

Afalyyan glanced to another screen, barking some orders at his subordinates as he did so, "Let me check my records, there are a number of vessels on leave right now if I am not mistaken."

After a minute or two of silence from either party, Afalyyan glanced back from his other monitor, "With some fortune, it appears that we have a number of vessels to spare. One of this vessel's siblings, the Bakhamaat, has just finished maintenance, which means it and its task group are available, as well as the cruiser Nerkuul and the frigates Talyaaz, Daliyat, and Dumaasqa"

Ayyal nodded. "Call them all in, as quickly as possible. Inform them that this is under the direct orders of myself, and that the throneworld is potentially in danger."

Ayyal closed the communique, slouching slightly and sighing through their mask. A storm was brewing, and Ayyal was not sure they could know the extent of it.

House Aglar was a proud house; that much was well known across the Imperium. Though their business stretched across the Imperium and their military - the Aglarines - were greatly famed, so was their disdain for the Core Worlds, which kept business with Core houses strictly professional. Among the Rim Worlds, meanwhile, their ties were more friendly, but most Rim Worlds were generally naught more than positive acquaintances, given House Aglar's general distaste for what it perceived as dirty, slimy realms.

By contrast the shining cities and pristine countrysides of Zimraphel, the Aglar capital world, were a sight to behold if one managed to make their way out to the Southern Marches, where Margrave Ar-Urithôr ruled, both as an Imperial Margrave and with his own title, Grand Warden of the Southern Marches. House Aglar was not an ancient house, hence it only holding a margraviate - in the midst of the civil war that saw House Morghanos seize the Celestial Throne, it had first been founded by a family of wealthy businessmen in the region with financial connections to House Morghanos themselves.

Over time their discovery of massive aecorium reserves at the Marches' far ends allowed them to shape and refine their military, make a vast fortune, and build up not only their internal infrastructure but both their cities and their mining colonies, which eventually became cities in their own right. The house's origins, more importantly, led to one of their key foreign policy characteristics; one that shattered their otherwise proud and often even 'difficult' streak, and one that would play a key role in the situation that had unfolded with Emperor Shiram's death. They were fanatically loyal to the Celestial Throne.

Most of the time, the Margrave was a jovial man. A shrewd financier and administrator, he had greatly increased aecorium revenues and business during his tenure. His younger son Aphanuzîr shared this demeanor, though his expertise, along with his elder brother, was in military matters; and together they jointly commanded the Aglarines in place of their father, who was uninterested in such matters. Said elder brother, Gimilzôr, was the one who informed his father and brother of the Emperor's demise. In charge of border security and any and all foreign operations, not only had Gimilzôr upheld House Aglar's strict foreign transit and immigration laws well during his own tenure, but he was his father's chief source of information regarding the greater Imperium.

It was agreed at once that Ar-Urithôr would travel to the throneworld, Taer Atlos, with Gimilzôr to attend to their duties as nobles of the Imperium Galactica by attending its Diet. Almost immediately, both through their own relationship with House Aglar and through rumors on the wind of possible actions they had taken outside of the Diet's halls, one house had come to stand out immediately: the Archdukes of the Southern Marches, House Khor. Of all the Great Houses of the Imperium, House Khor was the one House Aglar could consider closest to itself. Not only were they close by, trade was frequent and friendly, a rarity for House Aglar. Ar-Urithôr knew Archduke Arnu Khor well, and knew they needed to speak on these matters before the Archdukes convened.

All this was running through his mind as he was walking with two Aglarine guards through the Diet's grounds. He had just given orders to Gimilzôr to send for a large Aglarine fleet, led by the flagship Pharazôn, to Taer Atlos to join in the defense against Alecto Rian's rogue fleet, and to inform the Regnier of House Aglar's intention to do this in acceptance of his call to arms. Suddenly, however, he noticed Arnu, having just come out of a meeting with another Margrave, Owain ap Selyf. Perfect timing.

"Arnu! About time we crossed paths on this godsforsaken planet!" shouted Ar-Urithôr from across the grounds, before walking towards him at a brisk pace. A friendly smile crossed the Archduke's face. "Hah! If it isn't Ar-Urithôr." Arnu replied as Ar-Urithôr came to stand in front of him. "To see you here is truly a welcome sight in these times, my friend."

Ar-Urithôr chuckled. "We saw eachother in the Diet, I'm sure - but yes, it is good to finally talk face to face. I had something I wished to tell you as well." At this, Arnu seemed intrigued. Thus far it was House Khor and those of the Great Houses who supported it who had been contacting others and asking for support. If this was what it very well could be, it was not just something new, but it was something worth remembering.

As it turned out, indeed it was, in a roundabout way. "House Khor is first amongst the Archducal Houses, for its worlds are no pompous core worlds; not even close. You rule the sands and the badlands; you know better than most the attitudes and ways of life of the Rim. An Emperor from our neck of the Imperium would do all citizens a great deal of good. Not only this, but I have known you myself for a while. My family knows your family. We know well the honor of House Khor, and I wanted to encourage you to consider bringing that honor to the Celestial Throne."

Arnu laughed heartily. "Even these days, my friend, I'm still one step ahead of you. I've already made the rounds, and I would be honored to have your support, as well."

Ar-Urithôr nodded, the smile leaving his face in favor of a more serious expression, before looking around to make sure no one was eavesdropping. "I don't know who the Legion supports yet. What is sure is that we make all possible efforts to get them on our side. I can only assume you've already been working on that as well. But either way, for better or for worse, House Khor has the support of the Aglarines -" he paused, a sly smile now crossing his face. "-and our aecorium."

(Post written with permission and collaboration from @Loz.)

The Election

"We're ready father." Said the Archduke's children in unison.

"Excellent."

The might of the Great House Khor was on the move. Thousands of warships and support craft were now arrayed under the deft command of Minras from the Khor Flagship Peacemaker. In the bellies of troop transport were thousands more ground soldiers slated to augment the Imperial Legion as was promised. They stood marshalled on the Arc prepared to move at their Lord's Command. As the fleet readied itself, a smaller, more agile fleet made its way to the space of House Tywysog to bolster their forces who would no doubt be assailed by pirates during the chaos. Arnu was taking a terrible risk emptying the Badlands to defend the Capital, but if their had ever been a time for extraordinary acts, it was now. Arnu himself stood in the box of House Khor in the Diet Galactica with Azuari and Kardin. The three were quiet as they prepared for what could rightly be the most important moment in the history of the Imperium since the days of Tyran. The time for sentimentality had passed however, Arnu had a speech to make. He gave Azuari a hug, and Kardin a firm handshake before making his way into the Diet Chamber.

Arnu raised his hand as to be recognized by Rhodes, and took one deep breath before the plunge. "Archdukes of the Imperium!" He began. "You all know who I am, but I will name myself before the Diet. I am Archduke Arnu Khor, Lord of the Oasis, and the Badlands, and I will nominate myself for the Celestial Throne!" He roared. "I have seen the danger to us all, I have followed the trail of death and violence, and I have seen what comes for us. The rogue Starfleet and the traitor Alecto Rian seek to take our Imperium by force, through barbarism he seeks to take what he could never win through politics. But we, we Archdukes are the pillars that hold up this galaxy, and he will not take from us a single system while I live and breath and while the forces under my command draw breath. You have all pledged your loyalty to Imperium and I call upon you now to hold your oaths fulfilled. Defend the Empire, and know me not as Archduke, but as Emperor! And together we shall bring peace, freedom, justice, and security to our new Empire!"

Diet Galactica
Taer Atlos

The new regnier had called for the elections to begin. So the nine Archdukes would meet and start throwing names around. Faizul felt trepidation about the whole thing, but he had received word from his father’s doctor that he was going to live. He hadn’t woken up yet, but they could now say with surety that he would make it. This had boosted his confidence.

He bid his wife farewell and made the trip from the Estate to the Diet Galactica. The Regnier gave a speech to the assembly about it being the time for leadership, and also calling on fleets for the defense of Taer Atlos. A wise precaution. After the speech the assembly exited and the Archdukes made their way to a council chamber where the discussions and voting would begin.

It fell on Faizul to speak first. He was representative of the most senior house, and his father had been the emperor’s cousin. He stood up before the nine other men (eight archdukes and the Regnier) and he spoke.

“Many of you no doubt have been wondering whether my father had intended to claim the throne by right of his blood, but that was never his intention. The Celestial Throne was never a chair that he wished to sit in. Though he cannot be here today, in his stead I will honor his wishes. House Drof-Antier will pull its name out of the running. In the meantime we nominate the Houses of Wonju and Khor as candidates for the throne.”

He thanked the gathered archduke’s and then took a seat, waiting for the next nominations.

---

Hexactor 0017,
Unnamed System

It took nearly a day of scanning the system before someone took notice. Taschal had expected to be out here for another day or two before calling it quits. But then the man at sensors cried out. “Contact! Dreadnought off our port bow. It just appeared out of nowhere.”

The dreadnought was still a good distance off from them, but was bearing down quickly. Minutes later three other ships just appeared on their sensors. They hadn’t transwarped into the system. Taschal scratched at the stubble on his chin. There must be some kind of anomaly in this system that hindered their sensors. Some kind of naturally occurring stealth field.

“They’re hailing us.” Taschal nodded, giving the go ahead to open a channel.

A thin older man, dressed neatly in the Starfleet uniform, scowled out from the holoprojector. “Captain G’var,” he said mockingly. “You’ve changed your appearance.”

Taschal stood, trying to pose as regal a figure as he could. “Captain G’var is indisposed at the moment. I am Count Adammar Taschal here on behalf of the Imperial Regnier.” It was a lie, but one he hoped would intimidate this fleet officer. “And may I ask who I’m addressing?”

“I am Cruzier Kal Adanth,” the officer said. “How do you come to command an Imperial Starfleet vessel, Count Taschal?” It was obvious this Cruzier was not intimidated by Taschal, nor his rank.

“I was forced to take command when the fleet abandoned their posts.”

The Cruzier rankled at the accusation. “We did not abandon our posts. We are here under direct orders from Grand Admiral Rian.”

“Well it appears the Grand Admiral has absconded with the imperial fleet. He has been ordered to return to Taer Atlos to face charges of dereliction of duty, and to face questions about his knowledge of the emperor’s death.”

Adanth’s eyes went wide in surprise, but he composed himself quickly. “The emperor is dead?” he asked.

“Indeed,” Taschal reassured him. “And now the Imperium faces a period of crisis that without your starships, Cruiser, lies vulnerable.”

Adanth couldn’t hide the confusion on his face. He’d just been hit with news that had been kept from him. “There must have been a reason we weren’t informed,” he argued. “And until the Grand Admiral decides it is his place to inform me, I will do my duty and obey my orders. Prepare to be boarded.”

The holoscreen cut out. Talk, apparently, would get them nowhere. “Shields,” he ordered as the three warships bore down on them.

“Transmit the following message on all open channels:

“The emperor is dead. Grand Admiral Rian has abandoned his duties and is believed to be plotting against the Imperium. By the authority of the Imperial Regnier and the Diet Galactica, you are ordered to return to your duties and defend the empire.”

When Taschal received confirmation the transmission was sent, he ordered an immediate retreat from the system. The frigate warped away just as the first salvo of weapon’s fire shot out from the dreadnought.

---

Taer Atlos
In Orbit

The fleet of the Drof-Antiers entered the system from transwarp. Over two hundred ships, mostly frigates and corvettes, but also cruisers and destroyers, all in formation around the massive carrier that was the flagship of the house’s fleet.

Imersa Natal, the Cruizer of the fleet, sent out the codes to imperial defenses, letting them know they were here by request of the Regnier. She didn’t breath easily until the confirmation code was returned, and the planet defenses lowered out of alert.

She noticed a few military ships already in orbit. Identifications came back as belonging to the Sorlanders. She wrinkled her brow in clear contempt. She should have suspected house Rhodes would have called them in as well. It was known their houses were close.

She set up her fleet in a defensive posture around the main starport. Now she would wait and see how long before things turned violent.

Taer Altos

In one of the few homes the Margravess owned on the capital planet, Mira and Lieutenant Haruss lounged around a table covered in drinks and snacks. Since only those involved with the actual election of the next emperor itself would be allowed to be present, the Margravess had taken leave with he retinue to wait for the result- if one could be quickly decided. The Lieutenant was leaning back in his seat, with his cap covering his eyes, but he wasn’t asleep. The Margravess had refused any drinks. Although there was a period of extreme tensions while they waited for the outcome of the election and also for the arrival of their fleet, she wanted to be able to communicate with her ships without being drunk.

The Margravess had contacted Admiral Witek, who was stationed back on Quella. He was to bring as many ships were readily available to them in order to bolster the Throne’s fleet. Unfortunately, much of House Vane’s fleet had been detached for some regular training on the other side of her realm, and so the ships would arrive in two groups. As much as this news annoyed her, there was little she could do about it. According to her admiral, the first group was significant enough on its own, including the Vane flagship, and it would arrive in about half a day. Having already informed the Regnier that her fleet was approaching, she had nothing to do but sit around and pass time.

Without moving, Haruss questioned aloud, “Was House Livia the right choice, you think?”

“Know your place, Lieutenant,” the Margravess looking up from her reading, “I have faith in Sulla. If he doesn't take the throne, what do I lose other than things I don't yet have? Don’t sow doubt in my mind, especially not from a reclined position. I should have you demoted to a custodian just for slouching.”

The Lieutenant sat up and smiled knowingly, “You know you like me too much to punish me for unprofessionalism at a time like this.”

Mira was too tired for any unneeded nonsense like this. She had chosen Haruss to come with her simply because all her other close advisors had been off-planet during her rush to leave Quella. Haruss was young, and after a few drinks, he had become almost unbearable. Technically, he was a distant family member and was therefore close enough to Margravess to be relatively safe from demotion and discharge. In response to his claim, she simply said, “Now is the most important time for professionalism. The Diet could be recalled at any time. Drink some water and shape up, or I’ll send you to oversee settlement in a desert.”

The Lieutenant fixed his cap and stood up to fix his uniform, “Yes, ma’am.”

"You make me look lenient," she huffed, shaking her head and returning to her reading.

Having only come with Haruss and relatively uncaring silent guards on the other side of the room, Mira wished with a sigh she had brought a larger entourage.

Diet Galactica
Taer Altos

After the speech Fredrick made his way to the council chamber his body feeling heavy with anxiety, he thought of the recent assassination attempt on one of his fellow Archdukes concerned him. Especially with the disappearance of Admiral Rian it only serviced to trouble the man. He entered the chamber and looked around taking a seat at the council table. He waited for his fellow Archdukes to arrive. After a few moments and after the Archdukes and Regnier had made their way to the table from there Faizul the son of the injured Archduke began to present his nominations for Emperor. House Wonju and House Khor. It was an easy decision as the Khors had already guaranteed him a position in the council. So in quick succession, he raised his right hand and proclaimed.

"House Valin shall also pull its name from the running and second the nomination of House Khor." The old man put his hand down. And waited for the next nomination.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________
The Palace Gardens
Trovan

Amelia looked around the garden, its splendor was not matched by any in the whole galaxy, not even the Imperial Gardens could match its beauty. The garden contained all sorts of trees, animals, fungi but out of all the things in the garden, her favorite was the roses they were not ordinary roses though. They had been genetically altered by her family for years to warp the rose from its normal red to a beautiful royal purple. The roses were not just aesthetic they did have properties according to her father they were used to do "very bad things." According to her mother, they were used as decoration on the lapels of the members of the Valin House but according to others, they were used for much more than that. According to the botany books she acquired from the Palace library revealed their dark side... the roses were poisonous but not by accident for centuries her family she had discovered used these to eliminate dissenting nobles and military officials. Her father had put a stop to this as he found it barbaric just like the old gods they worshipped, he tried to wipe away the memory of their past...of the old ways but now it is clear to Amelia. He was wrong and for his betrayal of the family name, he must pay for it, and how better to do it than to seal his fate with the very thing he tried to destroy. The old ways shall surpass the new, just as the young surpass the old.

The Diet Galactica

"Arnu Khor" I say my tone contemplative as the holographic facsimile hovers above us

"An ambitious man with the forces to back his goals" Oba replies pointing to the images of Khor fleets on the move

Events continue to evolve devoid of any predictable pattern, first Hiram gets taken out of the picture and now Arnu Khor stands ready to claim the celestial throne. The Arch-Duke has likely been planning this for months, perhaps even years, having gathered support from most of the great houses and a good chunk of the legions no less. In other times I would have abstained and left the corrupt gaggle of imperial nobles to bicker and feud amongst themselves, better to stand apart from the imperium than be tainted by association. However, these are not other times, a tumult is brewing at the edges of the imperium and if allowed to fall upon a disunited empire it will swallow the reach as well. House Oragbade has always looked to its own culture and people first, our wealth, resources and generous donations to church and state buying us a reprieve from the intrigues of the wider core. Now though the ambitions of a rogue admiral could swallow the reach along with the entire imperium, unity is more than an ideal, it is the only move that will guarantee survival.

"Better Khor then those Wonju snakes," Oba says a look of disgust on his face as he mouthes the name of that much-maligned house

For my part I care little for either potential claimant, let the vultures squabble over Shiram's carcass so long as the reach is left alone. My only desire is to place a warm body on the throne of this icy cesspool so that I can once again look to the protection of my own realm. But the reaches continued health requires an emperor with a stable grip on the reigns of power and Arnu Khor appears to have that strength. I rise from my throne and stand to address the diet.

"He has the support of Aaron Rhodes and I swore to support the Regnier, House Oragbade supports Arnu Khor's nomination for Emperor," I say my voice amplified by various unseen speakers

Sitting back down I turn to Oba "what news from the fleet?" I ask

"House Oragbade is ready for war," he says solemnly

Taer Altos Orbit

The blackness of space was momentarily illuminated as countless pinpricks of light flickered briefly into life signalling the exit of hundreds of vessels from transwarp. The Balogun had sent out the call for as many ships as the reach could provide and the Yoruba had answered their warlords call in record numbers, whole warrior merchant clans now prowled the orbital lanes, their bulky vessels covered in menacing ordinance. Ships and crews hardened by decades of expeditions and void combat now brought their deadly skills to bear, though their vessels might have appeared ugly, slapdash and wholly unprofessional each represented a crew that had braved the darkness times beyond counting and lived to tell the tale.

Merchantmen and larger cruisers appeared like spiked fish as their unusual hulls glittered in the light of the nearby star, their bodies bore countless jutting lances and rocket silos. The merchant clans may not have been particularly concerned with aesthetic beauty but their warships bore the means of reducing vessels to scrap, which would then be scooped up and sold in short order. The promise of salvage and a healthy payout from the Oragbade commission office had proven more than enough to attract the largest gathering of the free armada since the pirate wars of old.

Behind the rowdy collection of merchant's vessels came a smaller and distinctly more uniform fleet, these ships were as different from the free armada as night from day. Some hundred or so larger warships emerged from transwarp, their hulls a mix of bone-white panelling and golden bodywork, these craft represented house Oragbade's formal military and the ancestral masks at the prow of each vessel ensured there was no ambiguity as to who they served. The Arch-Duchesses personal fleet was small in number but they made up for this by putting the houses immense wealth to good use, the finest armour and weaponry money could buy had been procured for each vessel of the royal fleet and only the most seasoned captains were blessed with the honour of the white and gold uniform.

At the head of this vast collection of merchants and royal guard was the largest vessel in the Oragbade fleet, the Obatala, the houses vast flagship towered over the smaller ships and prowled the space lane like a vast metal shark seeking prey. Fitted in the shipyards of Shango bay this vast warship possessed enough firepower to level a small planet, expensive and precious beyond imagining its arrival signified the house's commitment to defending the capital. From the bridge of the Obatala, Balogun Sadeko watched as her forces completed their jumps and formed up behind the flagship.

"All ships accounted for Balogun" an ensign called out from his station

"Good, send a transmission to the capital authorities, let no one doubt that the Oragbade have answered the Regniers call," she said as the austere beauty of the capital world flowed across the viewscreen

Unclasping her hands, Archduchess Dae-Soon stood, calling attention to herself. She saw the faces of those looking towards her. There was disgust, mistrust, curiosity, and wonder. There were many here who would never support her house, and if she did become Empress by some miracle of the gods, they would mistrust her and actively seek to supplant her from the throne.

Hiram’s gesture had been touching. A true testament to the man’s character. His return of their house seal was something Wonju would not forget. But the assasination attempt on his life told her that the capital was far too dangerous. She could scheme with the best of them, but if someone was bold enough to attempt to murder an elector, on the Diet Galactica grounds, during the elections of a new emperor then perhaps it was best to scheme from the safety of the Traverse. Let the snakes have the core.

With the dignity and grace of a woman born to power, she spoke to her peers. “Thank you, Faizal Mulrhaad, for the nomination. But I must decline. House Wonju will not seek the Celestial Throne. Instead we nominate Archduke Sulla of House Livia. They will make a fine Emperor.” She returned to her seat, eager to study the expressions on the faces of the others.

---

Written at the behest of @Andrenne

The ship was kingly to put nicely. Upon entering the mammoth landing bay, Maura knew she was expending her most precious of resources―Antica, that was. She had received word days prior of the impending threat of a fleet, something of the god's origins. She didn't give a name, but only a whisper of its masses. Maura for that matter was left mostly in the dark. She didn't regard her cousin as the superior her position was meant out to be, nor an equal because of Antica's detailed history with Aldikar, but Maura would answer, for loyalty, even if she pitied the Imperial Throne. To Taer Atlos, that's where her cousin wanted Maura to fly to now. Taer Atlos―the undeniable center of the Imperium and galaxy at that. A hall of revered Emperors and statesmen alike, progressive policy, and plentiful rum. Only held back by that illusion and that anything said about it was actually false, the Atlos and greater Imperial Diet were a joke. She hadn't been, not since she was eleven. The galaxy appeared so daunting then, many orbits ago. Now, she scavenged the stars with the Arcdothien Grand Fleet, or what would've been if the upgrades were allowed to be finished. See, Antica stressed that Maura had a week to come from the other side of the galaxy, which included dragging all five hundred Arcdothien space ships to what she assumed to be a light–hearted shit–show. But, she forgave the dirty politics, the insanity of Antica's demands, her resentment to a scheming throne, an Imperium drowning in lotacracy, and an upcoming war she had no role in outside of hereditary responsibility. More times than not, Maura would stare into the stars from the deck of her own battlecruiser wondering if she could abandon what was the hex of this career and leave the Imperium altogether, with her fleet of course. It was only the grind of managing a house of her own that made being an Arcdothien worth it. But even the fleet could not forgive the daunting nightmares that Maura had endured, the dreams that stilled her in the night, or whatever was night anymore. The recurring pains inhibited her from more days gunning down pirates or blasting asteroids in the outer–rim, but she would manage. She always had.

“Gettin’ slow are we now?” the voice called out. It was louder than the entire platform, she could sense as half of the harbor froze and turned to see the origin of the noise.

Maura looked out into the crowd before the ship, spotting none other than Rev in the middle of the maintenance crews, engineers, and cargo–bots. Droids were the majority of the population, not accounting for the incoming soldiers. “In your dreams,” Maura called back.

Rev responded with a bellow that resembled that of a howl, he ran up to the ship and put Maura in a bone–crushing hug, “I'll squeeze the tired out of ya!”

His hug was indeed wild, Maura's back popped as Rev settled her to the ground, but she wouldn't let him know, even if he felt it. “Wow I feel amazing!” Maura exclaimed.

“Then I should do it again!” Rev hallowed, pretending to extend his bear arms. Maura sidestepped him for a muse.

“And I thought I was ‘slow,’” Maura clicked her tongue at the space between them, prompting Rev into another fit of laughter. He was middle–aged, barely sixty Imperial years, though it only showed in his face, the rest of his was a teddy bear. A seven foot, purely stone, bear-armed, veteran, teddy bear. He had always served as a father figure in the loss of her own biological one. She had no familiarity with him though, which made loving Rev and his goofiness all the easier, she knew no other way. She supposed the ignorance was bliss in that she could love him for who he was, even if it meant her going through six years of military academy at ten years old.

“Hahahahaha!” Rev's brown eyes cooled to soft amber, signifying he was happy. Maura embraced him with a hug of her own.

“I'm surprised you found the terminal okay, old man!”

“If only you inherited my sense of natural direction!” he beat his puffed chest with one arm as a show of pride. It would have looked comical on others whereas on Rev it looked like he was about to rip your head clean off your shoulders―gently, though. Maura loosed a laugh at the thought, tempting a smile.

“Ok Commander Giggles! When are ya gonna take me around your ship?!” Rev patted his black backpack which blended right into his tank top and sweats, for that matter.

“Since when am I Commander Giggles? If I'm the Commander, you're the entire damned fleet!” Rev roared, and Maura was glad that she could enjoy the next few days with someone, someone other than just her crew. It definitely beat waiting for responses from Antica and sentient drones at gas depots. “We can start right away, but you have to promise to drop the mom sweats, unless you're pregnant with my warrior sibling?”

“Sure thing Commander, ” Rev replied, “but I'll drop my sweats. Please, lead the way!” He walked up the ramp into the hangar bay, promising stares from crewmates who looked on in definite envy, for her or her dad, she didn't know. But, she also didn't care. They laughed all the way to the elevator, from the elevator, and into commission, spending hours just up until the entire fleet left the docks and into the final hyperloop, next destination: Taer Atlos.

---

It was hard to consider the possibility, Antica debated, the idea of House Khor being leaders―about anyone in the camber ruling, for that matter. She had correctly predicted that time would be her ally, striking anew her friendship with Sulla and to a greater extent, Solios. How even the idea of House Livia occupying the throne once humored Arcdothiens for generations, now here she was, about to declare them her candidate for the throne. In all Arcdothien glory, for that matter. For what was longed to be the final meeting in a series of dreadful meetings, the Regnier–apparent Aaron had called forth the House's combined forces to calibrate an army that could withstand Admiral Rian. It was a formidable inquiry and Antica surely would not let the Empire fall apart now, when Arcdothien's had so much too lose. When she had so much to lose. But it was the omnipresent belief that the starship salad would still not be enough and only amount to dubious sums, Antica could not allow her entire fleet to be destroyed other. The Imperium or House Arcdothien? Oh how there was so much too game and it could all be settled here,

Antica spoke to her equals when she said, “At the behest of House Arcdothien, I see both candidates are fit for greater alignment. But, both have provided more than sufficient arguments for who is deserving of an Arcdothien nomination. That said, I concur House Wonju's message and support Archduke Sulla of House Livia for the throne. And whilst I see a potent future under Khor rule, it is integral we may not flail in these hours. While former-Admiral Rian schemes we need to amass militant nature that has been indicted for many a generation. Tis' our chance to regain our superior standing in the Universe. To prevent losing our dignity and for the general promotion of the common defense, to embark on rebuilding our grandeur and supplementing the Greater Empire abroad, to Solios, to Sulla. By Oridran, the Imperium!”

Looks like it will either be House Livia or House Khor, Faizal thought. He knew that most of the proposals would be for an Archduke. There had been a number of elections in the past and he could count the number of times anyone lower in rank had been nominated on his fingers. And the number of times they’d been elected? That had never happened.

He was pleasantly surprised when House Wonju had declined their nomination. It made him feel less that he was going against his father’s plans. Or had that been Hiram’s plan all along? To nominate and let Dae-Soon decline? He didn’t know. His father was always a few steps ahead of him on everything.

That so many houses hadn’t nominated themselves, now that was an interesting development. Perhaps the Great Houses were learning to be more humble. He had to cover his mouth to hide the grin at his own joke.

Two houses nominated. And with equal support. That boded ill, and battlelines were likely to be drawn up. He leaned over to whisper to Aaron Rhodes. “Looks like you're up, Margrave Rhodes. Time to tell the candidates to make their case so we can all hear what wonderful things they have to say about themselves.”

Salicor
Secret Imperial Weapons Depot

The landing was rough. High winds and electrical discharges rocked the vessel as it dropped from orbit. Rian gritted his teeth and rode it out. Salicor was not a very hospitable world. Deemed to be poor in resources and incapable of long term settlement, it had remained long ignored by the great houses. A small world in a small system in an out of the way corner of the Imperium.

The shuttle thudded heavily against the ground. He felt his bones knock against each other. A metallic screech warned him that damage had occurred. He would admonish the pilot later for such a poor display of flying. But that thought died when the landing ramp was lowered and the compartment was slammed with the rush of high winds.

It took a moment for his landing party to gather themselves. Commander ALtain Vis was the first one out, the wind pulling at her uniform. She was followed by armored marines. Rian unclasped his cape and let it be blown to the back of the transport compartment. He would not fight it and the wind.

A towering gray building greeted them about half a kilometer from them. They made their way towards the facility, pushing against the wind. There were no guards at the gates, but the sentry turrets tracked their approach.

Rian entered his access code into an entry pad sealed within the gate, and they swung open to let him in. They entered a vestibule of sorts and when all were inside the outer doors closed. Rian entered his codes again and the inner doors swung open.

He was greeted by two dozen Imperial Guardsmen and a short pudgy man. He was rubbing his balding head and looking out of sorts. His uniform was crumpled, and Rian noticed that the guardsmen’s equipment did not look well maintained.

“Grand Admiral Rian,” the pudgy man said nervously. “I was not expecting a visit. If you had sent word ahead that you were coming…”

“Then perhaps you’d look like an actual officer in the Imperial Military,” Rian finished coldly. “I have no time for your sniveling, Commander Currahee. I am here on a matter of great concern. You will take me to storage locker…” Commander Vis handed him a datapad and he read the information “...3X-772. I will be requisitioning the entire stock of Stellar Fusion Weapons.”

Commander Currahee’s eyes widened. He looked at Rian and then at his marines behind him. “Sir, as you’re aware those weapons are outlawed by Imperial Proclamation 22-97…”

“Don’t lecture me on Imperial proclamations. We are in a crisis.”

“I can’t just hand them over. I will have to contact the Ministry of…”

Rian cut him off again. “Are you unaware of what has happened?” he asked, his voice rising with indignation. “The Emperor is dead, murdered by his own cousin who now seeks to grab the Celestial Throne. We stand on the verge of a calamity. These weapons are all that stand between us and a civil war.”

“I can’t let you have them,” Currahee said, his voice cracking.

Rian stepped closer to him. He eyed the guardsmen in their shabby uniforms, with their poorly kept weapons. He then pointedly looked at his own marines, wearing heavy armor and carrying the finest and newest Imperial weaponry. He turned back to the balding commander. “I would rather not have to take these weapons by force.”

Commander Currahee made one final protest. “Just one of these weapons can obliterate entire fleets, or burn away a planet's atmosphere.”

“I am aware of their destructive capabilities,” Rian assured him. “And the gods willing, I need not use them. I pray that the enemies of the Imperium back down when they learn of what I have.”

Aaron nodded as Faizal leaned in. He had much on his mind. Perhaps it was his military background, but the fleet he was hoping to cobble together was on the forefront of his mind, even as he observed the debates before him. Still, he smiled at Faizal's comment. That was one reason he liked folks from Drof-Antier. They were part of the inner galaxy and still willing to point out its pretensions.

"Assembled Archdukes," he began, standing. His own uniform somewhat more...subdued then the finery the highest nobility in the Imperium wore. Still, he'd learnt about how politics were played from his younger years in the core. He knew damn well how to sell himself in this situation- times were dire, and a no-nonsense frontier outlook was necessary. He both loved and hated that. Loved it because it gave him a degree of freedom to be a bit more direct than would perhaps otherwise be tolerated- they thought of him a certain way, why not lean into it? He hated it because...ugh. Politics was still politics, even if you made it work for you.

"The throne is vacant. I want to impress onto all of you just how dangerous this is. It's been a thousand years since this has occurred. This would be an uncertain, and dangerous time even under the best of circumstances. It's not the best circumstances though, is it? We grapple with a rogue admiral and starfleet. What should be our shield is now a sword against our throats. I'm not naive. I know this process will take some back and forth. I implore you all though, don't dither. Don't cling to old grudges. Don't use this as an arena to settle every single petty past dispute between you. A lawless usurper is somewhere behind the blackness of space with the most powerful military force known to history at his command. So let us select an Emperor and come together as one to survive the oncoming crucible."

"As Regnier I call on Arnu of House Khor. You've made your desire to sit on the Celestial Throne known. Make your case then." He sat down, taking a deep breath. It was a procedural step, yes, but he could have called on either to make their cases first. He'd just singled that, as Regnier, he had a preference. The man he selected to speak just now.
It was a choice he'd have to make, and he did. Problem was choices like that, in this arena, could get you killed.

Antica considered the words of both houses. There was a lot left on the table. She wasn't just picking and choosing here who would be 'his majesty'. She waot just picking and choosing the next imperial blood line. More likely than not this was the ruler whom she would die alongside against the enemy fleets that assembled in darkness. The idea of the conflict ahead weeded itself into Antica's mind. The most powerful military force known to history, Antica considered those words too. Being so close to the galactic center, her home world of Aldika wouldn't stand a chance. She turned to Regnier Aaron.

"I am ready to cast my vote," Antica said. "I stand by my nomination and cast my vote for Archduke Sulla of House Livia to be Emperor of the Imperium Galactica." Antica shifted her stance, "You're right, we don't have time for rivalries Regnier Aaron. The people of Solios are strong. Their Pelclaren culture makes them so. Archduke Sulla will lead us to crush these insurgents and any other enemies we should face." Antica sat down and let the room resume its discussion, much milder than the Diet. Still, the images of the war to come flickered before her and she prayed to Oridran that the fleets in orbit above were enough to beat back the shroud that swallowed stars.

---

*Disclaimer: this presumably takes places after House Khor's and House Livia's posts, respectively. Just posting early, but icly this would happen after those posts

Taer Atlos

It had been decided. After hours of deliberation and argument. Multiple times it had nearly come to storm outs, with war threatening to break out. But at last there was a majority. House Khor won the vote by one.

Not everyone was happy with the result, and those who had supported House Livia were still fuming. Faizal worried that even after this there would be a division in the great houses that might still lead to conflict.

But there was finally a new emperor. One less thing to worry about in this ongoing crisis. Aaron Rhodes would be responsible for informing the Diet Galactica, and the peoples of the Imperium. In the meantime, Faizal returned to the hospital to see his father.

“Your father’s condition has improved,” the doctor informed him. “He’s got a long ways to go yet, but he’s no longer in critical condition. I’m expecting a full recovery.”

The news was the best he’d had in the last few days. He couldn’t wait for his father to recover, and take command of the house once again. There would come a day when Faizal would happily ascend to the title of Archduke, but for now he was content to look forward to many more years of his father ruling.

He sat at the edge of the bed, holding Hiram’s hand clasped in his.

---

Imperial Command Carrier Hammerhead
At Warp

Alecto Rian sat straight-backed in his command chair. He drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. He watched the distance ticker count down as his fleet raced to their final destination. This was it. An all or nothing play.

Taer Atlos. The seat of power of the imperium. It was his for the taking. He would grab the Celestial Throne and end the corruption of the great houses. A new age would begin, one with a strong ruler, an emperor no longer hampered by tradition. No longer trapped by the machinations of the houses. And one completely and utterly dominated by humans.

“All fleets have checked in,” Commander Vis informed him. “We will all arrive within seconds of each other.”

He nodded, feeling pride at the professionalism of his fleet and its officers. “Once we have punched a hole through planetary defenses, we will launch a ground assault. Take command of the Diet and the Palace.”

“Do you think the legion will stand with the great houses?” she asked him.

“If they haven’t declared an emperor yet, then no,” he answered. “But if they have, then we will just crush Zabi and her forces.”

“Arriving at Taer Atlos,” the helmsmen called out, “in three...two...one.”

The first of the fleet arrived, dropping out of transwarp. The command screens were filled with readouts showing the positions of the planet's defenses and ships within the system. Rian noticed that a great deal of ships from the noble houses were in orbit, more than he assumed, but that wouldn’t stoop them. His ships immediately began firing on the planetary defense platforms, bearing straight in for the planet. Another of his fleets arrived on the far side of the planet. And then another, and another, and another. As more and more of the Imperial starfleet arrived in the system Rian smiled. The Imperium would be his soon.

Taer Atlos

"Hail the Emperor!" Yelled Kardin as Rhodes proclaimed the victor. Arnu's supporters in the chamber took up the cry as well, while his detractors silently weighed the price of their losing hand. Arnu himself did not know what to feel in the moment. It was a heavy mix of pride and anxiety, but none the less a smile now rested on his face. As he scanned the nobles he hardly noticed Azuari had rushed to side, and was apparently rather energetically trying say something to him. "Father!" He heard. "Captain Vas made contact with Minras, the Dauntless and the rest of Rian's fleet is on the move to Taer Atlos." Arnu's smile faded. "How long?" He asked. "The fleet is in transwarp, could be minutes, could be seconds." The chamber was deathly silent now, the assembled lords processed the battle that was about to unfold. In this moment of uncertainty Arnu stood and spoke. "Lord Rhodes, please hail the Peacemaker and get my son on the holo." His command clear, and his voice firm he continued. "Kardin, send word to the Legion immediately that we have an Emperor to whom they owe their allegiance, and tell Zabi Alecto is coming." Kardin gave a curt nod, while Minras appeared on the screen. Finally Arnu turned the Archdukes. "Each man and woman in this room is a pillar that holds both our Imperium and our Galaxy, and it is ours, no others. Our Empire cast down the gods, and we shall sweep aside this traitor to the wasteland of history. Now do as your Emperor Commands and Rise! Assemble your forces! For the Imperium!"

---

Khor Flagship "Peacemaker" Taer Atlos Orbit

Minras listened to his father's speech and it brought courage to him. Courage that was desperately needed. The Archducal fleets of House Khor, Oragbade, and Eburtkol made up the majority of the defending fleet, with several other houses also doing their part for the Imperium. "Too few." Khor said aloud to his bridge. Moments before Lord Rhodes had hailed the Peacemaker, Minras had put out the signal to all the Imperium. He knew help would be on the way, or at the very least he hoped. What he knew however was that the early stages of this fight would be painful for the defenders. "Ships exiting transwarp Sir!" Called out a bridge officer. "How many?" Minras said focusing his attention to the scanners. "Thousands." Replied the Officer. While that word echoed in Minras' head, response signals began to flood his instruments. Vane, Tywysog, Arcdothien, Aglar, and even the church. "The Hammerhead is on grid my lord, hostile fleet has begun bombardment of Taer Atlos." Minras nodded. "Planetary defenses?" Minras asked. "Aye sir, the Legion has engaged Rian's fleet with ground to space cannons". Minras nodded again. "Alright get us moving." He called to his helmsman and to his allies on the holo. "For the Imperium."

Taer Atlos Orbit
Drof-Antier Dreadnaught Virammar

Alarms blared. The crew of the ship immediately rushed to stations as the command screen filled with readouts of arriving ships.

“Defense platforms have begun firing.”

“I’m counting two thousand....wait...three thousand new contacts.”

“Another fleet arriving at the far side of the planet.”

“Raising shields.”

All around Cruzier Natal commands and responses were being hollered about. She sounded all hands to battle stations. The Imperial Starfleet had warped into orbit without notice, and already were cutting through planetary defenses.

“Bring all our ships into formation,” she ordered, and her command was relayed swiftly to the surrounding fleet. “We need to defend the inner picket line. Keep those missile batteries firing.”

The ship was rocked as laser fire began hitting the Virammar’s shields. She watched as her fleet moved into position. Gunboats were already creating a flak screen between her cruisers and the incoming missiles from the Starfleet. Her cruisers were launching their own missiles, and her carriers were discorging their wings of fighters.

But she didn’t have to do the math to know they were outnumbered. More and more imperial vessels were warping into the system and already the out picket-lines of planetary defense platforms were being overwhelmed.

The sorlander ships were moving to engage along with the Planetary Defense Fleet. She opened a channel to her own ships. “This is Imersa Natal, prepare to defend your positions. Taer Atlos will not fall! May the gods welcome our souls to their side today.”

---

Taer Atlos
They moved Hiram from his room, taking him to the bombardment shelter below the royal hospital. Faizal stayed by his side only long enough to make sure his father was safe, and then he got a transport to take him to the Diet.

Evacuation procedures were already underway across the capital as people fled the cities or ran to the shelters. He could see fighter craft rising up from the ground in the thousands, heading spaceward to fight the invading force.

His transport landed and with his guards flanking him he made his way towards the Diet chamber. He met up with his chief of security, Aram Valgurhros.

“Where is my wife?” he asked.

The blond haired man fell in beside him as they made their way towards the chamber. “The manor has been evacuated. Her transport made it out of the system, so she should be back on Coarin soon.”

Faizal sighed in relief. “Thank you,” he said.

“With all due respect your highness, you should have evacuated as well.”

“Yeah,” he said as he entered the chamber and saw the defense forces and numerous noble house guardsmen preparing defenses. “But what kind of acting Archduke would I be if I abandoned the defense of Taer Atlos.”

---

Taer Atlos Orbit
Imperial Command Carrier Hammerhead

The Starfleet broke through the outer planetary defenses and moved to engage the defending fleets. He smiled as he watched a Drof-Antier carrier burn up in a series of explosions. It hadn’t been fast enough to get behind their flak barrier, and all seven missiles heading towards it struck true.

“Commander Vis,” Rian called, and his first officer hurried over. “Prepare our first Stellar fusion Device.”

She nodded and rushed away to relay the command. The fleet continued moving forward as the last of their forces straggled into the system. They now outnumbered the defenders ten to one. This fight was already his, but he wasn’t going to give the noble houses time to mobilize. It was time to bring the fight to a swift conclusion.

“Weapon armed,” Vis informed him.

“Target that Planetary Defense fleet in quadrant three,” he ordered. “Launch device at will.”

The device was launched. It raced across the distance between the two fleets. The planetary defense forces launched counter measures, but Rian smiled knowing it wouldn’t matter. At a hundred kilometers out from their fleet the device detonated.

A bright flash of energy expanded rapidly outward from it. The energy of a small star. It disintegrated the counter measures, the flak barrier, the fighters around the fleet, and all ships within range of the weapon. A spherical area of about a thousand kilometers was completely obliterated.

“Prepare the next devices,” Rian ordered. “Target the largest concentration of defending ships. Fire at will!”

Taer Atlos
Archduke Fredrick Valin's office

Looking out from the balcony of his office in the Diet, Fredrick looked up into the sky and saw what seemed to be a relatively even fight, not one side seemed to be taking the upper hand but then like an act of the gods, a massive flash emanates from the sky wiping out several ships and defenses entirely. Fredrick bowed his head and walked over to his desk. The desk was smaller than the one back in Trovan, along the desk were a few items his guardsmen had decided to place around his office to make it feel like home.

Sitting there was a bottle of wine and a glass brought from his own vineyard, a small holographic picture that displayed his two daughters, and finally a box of his own personal fountain pens. Knowing that this may be the last few moments, he decided to open the bottle and have just one last drink. So he popped the cork and poured himself a glass, picking it up he held it for a moment swirling the wine around, he checked the side residue to see the sweetness of the wine of which he so prided himself on. He stood glass in hand also picking up the small holographic picture of his daughters. He stared at them, then the sky, and finally, back at them, they were his pride and joy he just hoped that the weeks to come would be good to them. He took a sip of the wine and put down the holo picture. He walked slowly to the balcony and continued to sip on his wine. But after a few moments, his chest began to feel tight, and his vision began to blur. After a second or two of this odd spell, he began to cough and cough and cough bringing the man to his knees gasping for air as his throat closed and his vision went completely dark.

Taer Atlos
Khordus shared his congratulations and traversed through the delicate, and intricate maze of political relations and alliances, which to him would be more like crossing a minefield...blindfolded, truth is, he was under a magnitude of stress, he could do with an excuse- any excuse to take his leave, and for a moment he felt relieved as brown scales filled his view

that was untill he saw the face of the Nelidian before him, and a wave of realization fell on him like a mountain

"Sir! We are being attacked" Valk almost yelled into his face, his gaze piercing, the smaller royal left stunned for a moment, finally responding
"By who?" is all he could manage out, before the rest of his security detail formed up around him, escorting him out; his security chief blurting out an answer that didnt fully meet his ears "Alecto Rian"

Taer Atlos- Orbit
the RNN Firebird increased her flank as she fell back towards the defensive perimeter, stardboard and stern shields struck multiple times but holding as the Missile carriyng ship repositioned, line abreast with others of similar class, silos opening and targetting computers aquiring multiple fire solutions while orders an reports were barked out on all decks

"Status on launchers!" demanded the captain, holding onto the armrests of his chair as the ship shook from another impact
"Three through Fifteen are loading, targets locked for One and Sixteen!" came the report from the young crewman
"All battle stations, Send those traitors into the vacuum!"

In orbit above Taer Altos


The bridge of the Obatala glowed a baleful red as alarms screeched in warning, the void burned with wrathful light as energy weapons glittered in the dark. The screens of every console were alight with thousands of targets, the rogue admiral had brought the full force of Starfleet down upon the capital world. Sedeko gritted her teeth as a merchantman directly in front of the Obatala was torn apart by a direct hit from a missile.

The situation was dire, the great houses were outnumbered and outgunned by the imperial fleets whose superior firepower was now tearing at both the defending ships and the capital world itself. Defence batteries exploded and ships burned as the comms were filled with the sounds of battle and death. Sedeko had little time for the Imperium and their false teachings, but the scriptures that spoke of apocalypse suddenly seemed very relevant.

“The outer defences have fallen Balogun!” an ensign called out fearfully from his station

Rian’s fleet was advancing at a merciless pace, already the planetary defence fleet was tied up in a desperate holding action and all while the rest of the defenders were pounded by a withering salvo of missile fire. The naval might of no less than four great houses had been assembled to face the threat, but already their disadvantage was plain for all to see.

“Where are the other houses!” Sedeko hissed angrily

Word of mobilizations beyond the core had reached the capital days prior, but unless they arrived soon it would be too little, too late. Something had to be done, time had to be bought or the capital would be lost before reinforcements had a chance to turn the tide. Sedeko sighed and resigned herself to the cost of the decision she was about to make, time would be bought but the blood price was going to be steep.

“Helmsman call an...” she didn’t have a chance to finish her order as a blinding explosion in the distance rocked the fleet

For the briefest of seconds, the comms was filled with terrified screaming and then nothing but ominous static. The planetary defence fleet had been swallowed by blinding white fire, as the light faded Sedeko noted that not even wreckage was left to mark the last stand of the capital fleets.

“Fusion weapons, he intends to kill us all!” Sedeko thought grimly, a chill snaked down her back

There was no time for caution left, it was time to gamble everything or to lose the imperium to a tyrant. Sedeko activated her command console and set the comms to fleet-wide transmission, it was time to show the good admiral how Yoruba did battle.

“All ships, loose formation! We are attacking, ramming speed!” she roared as warning klaxons rang in the background

It was a dangerous move, one likely to claim many souls, but to stay put and engage Starfleet in a ranged engagement would give the admiral the ability to pick them off at his leisure with his fusion weapons. The Obatala’s engines roared into life as the flagship of the reach sped to the front of the advancing fleet.

“Olarun help us” she whispered reverently

A sea of missiles rose to greet the advancing fleet, the Oragbade charged forward their destination either death or victory.

***********************************************************************************

Oragbade Estate

Taer Altos



The sky was pockmarked with orange fire as the battle raged in the capital's orbit, the grounds of the Oragbade estate shook as the ground bombardment hammered at the planet's surface. Oba led the Archduchess and her personal guard as they raced toward the shelter beneath the estate, dust fell from the ceilings as the walls shook from nearby hits.

“I have no intention of cowering in a basement Oba!” Moremi protested angrily as Oba led them to the shelter entrance

“Then don’t, you can still command our forces within the bunker, but I cannot turn my full attention to the battle if you are at risk”

“We are all at risk Oba, no one is safe” Moremi replied mournfully

Oba leaned in and embraced her; she planted a passionate kiss upon his lips as they separated, Oranyan and several of the guards looked away in embarrassment. Everything was at risk now, the family and life they had built together threatened to be snuffed out by a stray barrage.

“The news from the fleet is not good, we are too few to hold Starfleet for long” Moremi said her tone grim but oddly lacking in fear

“Even if Rian manages to wipe out the fleet, he still has to win the ground war and this capital has many places to hide,” Oba said with a vicious grin

It was true enough that the ground war afforded the embattled houses a slightly more level playing field. They had the legions at their command and the urban nature of Taer Altos meant that a well-organized defence could easily stall the navies assault if the defenders utilized the terrain properly. Then there was the matter of the fusion weapons, even Rian probably wouldn’t be insane enough to bombard the capital with fusion weapons, then again Oba might have said the same about the admiral using such weapons at all before today. In any case, it was going to be bloody, the admiral would bombard the defenders mercilessly and the casualties would likely be horrendous.

Oba reached down and opened the large metal case he had been carrying, a biometric sensor flashed green, and the sealed container swung open to reveal a battered suit of legionary Armour and a worn looking auto-rifle. Oba pulled the Armour free and put it on, the layers of ablative plate had saved his life more than once and he would need their protection now if he was to survive. He reached for the auto-rifle and slammed the magazine in place, there was something comforting about holding his old battle rifle again, it had served him well on the periphery, he would need its protection more so now.

“Legate Zabi is in command of the ground forces; I'm going to take a shuttle to the garrison and provide whatever aid I can” Oba said calmy as he strapped his helmet on

“If you die, I will never forgive you, in fact, I will cross to the underworld to berate you!” Moremi said as they embraced one final time

“In that case, I shall avoid a hero's death, you are scary when you argue,” Oba said with a mischievous grin.

He turned to regard his young son, Oranyan seemed both terrified and excited all at once, the boy was getting firsthand experience in more than just politics. Oba sighed, the time they had spent on the warm shores of Oduduwa may as well have been a lifetime ago. He ruffled the young boy's braided hair and placed his hand on Oranyan’s shoulder in a fatherly gesture.

“Be good for your mother boy and await my return” he said softly in a paternal tone

“Bring me back a souvenir?” Oranyan said with a nervous tone

“Perhaps a certain admirals head” Oba replied with a sad smile

He turned to regard the small retinue of house guards, too few to stand against the horde that would soon descend upon them, they would have to do. He saluted his sovereign and then led his men out into the fire choked capital outside.

***********************************************************************************************************************

Olo Bandasi gripped the arms of his chair as the Oko's engine shook violently with the strain of coming up to maximum speed on such short notice, a console directly across from him exploded in a shower of sparks killing the crewman instantly. He checked the viewscreen, still leagues to go before they closed the gap between the Oragbade and Starfleet, he would be losing many crewmen to today. Missiles and beams of killing energy screeched past the Oko which rose and fell on the void like a dolphin leaping in and out of the ocean. Others were less lucky, the Akani split apart as twisted metal burst apart from a direct hit, the screams of its crew filling the comms as it was destroyed.

Olo felt his heart begin to pound like a drum, he had known the captain of the Akani, the two men had shared the same birthday and been present at each other's weddings. He swallowed hard and turned to his second.

"Tell the men to start singing the prayer, we need Ogun on our side this day!" he yelled over the cacophony of battle

The first mate nodded and yelled out the call for battle prayers, drums began to beat as the ship musician began to hammer the ancient synth skin with a rhythmic hand, all across the ship men took up the fierce appeal for the god of battles aid. The Oko advanced with a desperate song as the void was filled with death.

In Orbit Above Taer Atlos

Ayyal watched the battle unfold with steepled fingers aboard their personal corvette from a distance, its signature cloaked to prevent detection from the imperial navy. Their eyes were narrow slits and the breaths coming through their respirator crackled intensely. The margrave rarely showed emotion, but Rian's betrayal and ruthless attack on the throneworld infuriated them to no end. The situation was dire, even the strongest houses were wilting under the full strength of the imperial navy and Rian's ace-up-the-sleeve, those hellish fusion weapons. The Kilaalmesh had thus far withstood the storm of missiles and cannon, slinging heavy blows into unprotected targets, but several of the smaller ships present were limping, and a number more reduced to wreckage.

They glanced at their communications screen. Task Group Bakhamaat was still in transit and couldn't help. Even if they had arrived, their numbers would only delay the inevitable against this onslaught. Ayyal sighed, and considered telling them to turn back to save themselves, but such a message would arrive too late.

Ayyal's mind wandered, going to their teachings. Some religious scholars of House Nazdi's church would point to this shift in events being favored, and indeed their logic was sound - change must occur in the universe, otherwise stagnation will rule. But Rian's betrayal could not be abided, regardless. Something about it did not sit right with them - Rian had been loyal to the Imperium. To Ayyal, there was little evident reason for his betrayal. Ayyal began humming a prayer to House Nazdi's patron deity, hoping their will would favor the Imperium as the margrave knew it, or at least close enough.

Then, in the rear of Admiral Rian's fleet, there was the flash of ships exiting transwarp, and moments later all hell broke loose.

In Transit to Taer Atlos, Task Group Bakhamaat

Admiral Unnuzal Eygir stood with her hands clasped behind her back, waiting impatiently for her fleet to drop out of trans warp in the throne system. Her Margrave had demanded her aid and Unnuzal was determined to see this crisis through, whatever the extent of it was.

A bridge officer appeared at her shoulder, "We'll be arriving in the system shortly. You should take your seat, Admiral."

Unnuzal sighed and returned to the captain's chair. She spoke to the bridge at large, "Open communications for when we arrive, and inform the task group to ready arms. I have a gut feeling we'll need to come in swinging."

The admiral watched as the weapons systems lit up across the board for the Bakhamaat on their heads-up display. The ship, and its sister, the Kilaalmesh, were imposing foes on the battlefield, each one able to rival all but the largest ships of the Imperial Navy in firepower and protection and perhaps surpassing them in some instances. Unfortunately, the house could only field two ships of this caliber, compared to the vast might of the Imperial Navy.

A few minutes passed, and the navigations officer spoke up, "All ships in task group Bakhamaat arriving in the throne system in 3... 2... 1...", and Unnuzal felt the slight jolt of leaving transwarp before witnessing the chaos currently bearing down on the throneworld.

In Orbit Above Taer Atlos, Behind The Imperial Navy

Each ship in the task group had only moments to take in the carnage before Admiral Unnuzal's instructions roared over their communications to open fire into the backs of the Imperial Navy. The combined firepower of some 200 House ships tore into the navy, which was thrown into momentary chaos by the interlopers, with a number of ships starting to turn their efforts to defending their rear. The surprise attack left a number of smaller ships of the Navy in tattered pieces, any flames quickly being extinguished by the vacuum of space, though the heavier ships weathered the storm and began to return fire, intending to inflict their own casualties.

Ayyal, from their position away from the fight, let out a small but unmistakably delighted yelp, even through their respirator, at the unexpected turn of events, but returned to their stoic calm as they hailed the Bakhamaat.

Unnuzal's visage crackled to life on Ayyal's screen, greeting the Margrave with a voice strained through concentration, "Ukhanyyar Ayyal, I see we arrived late. My apologies. We have thrown the Imperial Navy into some disarray at least, but we will not be able to sustain casualties once the Navy's larger ships bring their arms to bear on us. Please advise."

Ayyal nodded "Even still, Admiral, your presence is greatly appreciated. This change is good fortune indeed. Hold for as long as you can, to split the fleet's attention and provide some respite to the defenders, but regroup as soon as possible. Admiral Rian has acquired fusion weaponry and has already used one such device on the gathered loyalists. He is a dangerous opponent. May Their Will be with you."

The communique closed, and Unnuzal gritted their teeth as their fleet dug in for the fight.

Taer Atlos

Aaron barely had time to proclaim Arnu of House Khor as the new Emperor when word of Rian's arrival rippled through the Diet. Arnu issued a call to arms as Aaron stood there for a moment, amidst the chaos. He looked out the grand windows of the chamber the Imperial election had taken place in. Already foreign lights blinked in the skies above the capital.

"I should be staying planet-side," he muttered.

"Bullshit," Brodie Fisher remarked.
"We need to get you to the Hvitt. Marshal Hákon of the Soderlands is awaiting you"

"I'm a Legionnaire," Aaron replied.

"Let Zabi do her job, because you're not a Legionnaire anymore. I don't know how the specifics work, civics was never my strong suit, but you were Regnier not too long ago. I think you may have a few more drops of blood to squeeze out of that stone. We need to get you up there."

Aaron nodded before letting Brodie take the lead, leading him to the shuttle that would take him to the White Company's flagship, the Hvitt.
"Brodie," I need you to send three messages," he said as he paced the shuttle's passenger area, not content to sit.

"Anything," Brodie replied, opening up messaging windows on his comms pad.

"Send one to Legate Zabi. Tell her...well...tell her that I know that she embodies the Legion's best qualities. It was an honour to serve under her before, and I know it will be an honour to serve her again."

"What else?"

"I need you to send two priority messages back home, to Holseta...tell Admiral Bruce and the Margrave fleet that should we fail here today, that he's to do what is necessary to defend Holseta...and my family. Tell him that, in such a situation, he's to seek out the remains of the Soderlanders and resist Rian."

Brodie gulped as he typed the order out, and affixed the seal of the House of Rhodes to it before sending.
"What's the other priority message?"

"To Kylie, Killian, and Aiden..." he said softly.
"I don't know how the day will go. I've seen war before but..." he walked to the window and saw the emerging might of the Imperial Starfleet.
"...this is something far more terrible. If I never see you all again, know I loved you all. And will always love you. Aiden, lead our House well. Be brave and..." he felt his heart lodged in his throat as he breathed deep.
"...be strong. No matter what."

Brodie again nodded nervously before sending...

The Hvitt
above Taer Atlos
before the battle

Aaron and Brodie were met by a contingent of White Company soldiers.

"Regnier Rhodes..." Brodie looked at Aaron and shrugged. He DID say there was blood to be squeezed from that stone yet....
"Marshal Hákon is waiting for you on the bridge."

"Where's Margrave Thor?" Aaron asked, referring to his nephew. What was about to happen....an engagement of this size....it was potentially apocalyptic. He was concerned, to say the least.

"He's here, on board," the White Company commander who greeted him answered.
"He's in private quarters. He didn't wish to interfere with you and the Marshal."

Aaron took a deep breath. The boy was soft spoken and unsure, and he didn't really blame him. Who wouldn't want to hide from what was about to happen. Dread seemed to permeate even the White Company's flagship. The largest flagship of the largest mercenary band of a people renowned for fighting and there was a sense of unease.

"Bring him to the bridge. We all serve together," he said with a nod. It was a sentiment that won him support for soldiers under his command as a Legionnaire, emphasizing the common struggle of officer and soldier.

The White Company soldiers split off, half escorting Aaron and Brodie to the bridge, the other half going to collect Thor. Aaron couldn't do much as he marched his way to the Hvitt's bridge. Just stare ahead. Stare ahead as the worst case scenario he'd studied as a student in the Imperial Military Academy many years ago dawned on him. A battle of total annihilation between two fleets each capable of scorching the cosmos.

The Hvitt's bridge
above Taer Atlos
before the battle

"Regnier," Marshal Hákon said with a salute as he met Aaron and Brodie aboard the warship's bridge.
"It's been a long time, but I won't lie. It's a good feeling to serve alongside you again."

"We have an Emperor now," Aaron replied.
"I'm not sure it's still Regnier."

Hákon shrugged with a chuckle.
"Maybe not, but we were all happy to hear about your election all the same. Besides, your duties as Reginer aren't complete until you present the Emperor to the Diet and the Imperium."

"Is that so?" Brodie asked, causing Aaron to give him a disappointed look.
"You weren't kidding when you said civics wasn't your strong suit."

Hákon just laughed for a moment.
"Every Soderland vessel is under our command...your command, Margrave Rhodes. And we can broadcast to anyone out there. So if you'd like to finally fulfill your duties..." the Marshal handed Aaron a transmitter. And Aaron? Well....

He thought back to the Rebellion of the Three Fold Path. Heresy everywhere. Rebellion and madness everywhere. What did he say then to calm those under his command? He clicked the button to upon the broadcast.

"To the Great Houses and Fleets defending Taer Atlos! To the Legion below guarding our capital! This is Margrave Aaron Rhodes of Holseta. Reginer of the Imperium. Before the combined Houses and peoples of the Empire...rejoice! We have, in accordance with our laws, named Arnu of House Khor our new Emperor! Long may he reign, and long may his line sit upon the Celestial Throne! We have a duty though, because as we assemble in the skies above our capital, an enemy approaches....Admiral Rian. I know you can hear me. Stand down. You will only find blood here above Taer Atlos. You are a criminal. You are a traitor. And the men you lead, you lead to their disgrace. You will face us, as we rally to the rightful, lawful Emperor, and you will fall. May the gods show you mercy for all you've done. Long live the Emperor! For the Imperium!"

Aaron was shaking as he set the transmitter down. Hákon knew why. He'd seen war too. He'd fought alongside Aaron. He hoped that they could live up to those words.

"That was rousing, Uncle Aaron."

Aaron turned around, smiling to see Thor there.

"I'm just unsure...why you want me here?" he asked, sounding unsure.

"Because," Aaron said, touching the red swallow-tailed flag on his uniform's sleeve.
"Red, or blue, white and black..." he tapped the blue, white, and black swallow-tailed flag on Thor's uniform sleeve, "we all bleed the same. I want you by my side."

Thor nodded with a gulp. He was scared, but he new....he knew why Aaron wanted him here. They were on the verge of death. Standing before a gaping maw of nothingness....if they were to die...well? At the very least they should both die in the company of family.

The Hvitt's bridge
above Taer Atlos
in the midst of battle

"Initial defences have cracked....we're holding our lines, but the Imperial Starfleet's not the Imperial Starfleet for nothing!" Hákon called out. He was filled with both dread and energy. As dire as it seemed...he was in the midst of the greatest battle of his life. Quite possible in the history of creation. At least not since the fall of the gods.

"We just lost a Drof-Antier ship!" an ensign called out.

Aaron turned briefly, panicked. His friends too....he grit his teeth. Thor just stayed back a bit...he appreciated why Aaron wanted him here, but he wasn't going to get in his way. He just tried to steel himself from the sights he saw. Blazes cutting through space, entire ships being wiped away. It was pure, overwhelming chaos. He couldn't help but be impressed as Aaron and Hákon managed to coordinate in it. Even as what he saw was terrifying. And then....

The flash of light akin to a star lit up the sky.

"The fuck was that...." Hákon muttered in awe of what he saw.
"That's an entire defence quadrant..." he turned to Aaron.
"The crazy son of a bitch didn't just use a..."

"He did..." Aaron growled. How he wished he'd called Rian a war criminal too....it would be fitting.

"Wha....what was that?" Thor asked, his voice shaking.

"A stellar fusion device," Aaron muttered.

"It just...I mean... it just...." Thor was stuttering.

Aaron had gone white. A battle against the Imperial fleet was one thing but.... now this. He was going to die here."

"Will he listen to reason? Can we negotiate with him?" Thor asked.

"Men who use weapons like that don't negotiate," Aaron replied.
"They take."

"Only if we go down without swinging," Hákon chuckled.

Aaron's life....he thought back on his life....he remembered crying tears of joy for each of his sons' births. He remembered meeting Kylie and knowing she was the one when she agreed to come all the way out to Holseta from the Core just to be with him. He remembered meeting Hiram, his first taste of battle....he looked down. At his uniform. What it represented. Why he was here....

"Patch me through to every Soderlander ship still standing," Aaron said softly.

Hákon signalled to the comms officer, who handed the Margrave the transmitter. Aaron's hand was, unlike before, steady.

"Mercenary bands of the Soderlands. Your contracts say I'm your employer, but you know me better than that. You know my family better than that. I didn't ask to be here. I didn't ask to be a position to defend the Imperium from usurpers and maniacs, but here I am. And here you are. Our fates, intertwined again. And it seems that the story that began when my ancestor found your people may end here. Against a would-be tyrant wielding the weapons of a maniac. If I have to die fighting though, gods damned right I'm dying fighting alongside Soderlanders! The Imperium elected a Rhodes Reginer! Let's show them what they get when they do that! And let's show Admiral Rian what he gets when he messes with the borderlands! To arms! And make that son of a bitch pay for every godsdamned stellar weapon he wants to use!"

He slammed the transmitter down. Sure of his fate. If Rian was going to use these weapons....Aaron's only choices were victory or death. And they both seemed to start on the same road forward right about now.

---

Prelude to War by Bear McCreary, 8:26

OOC Note: Given permission to RP the Soderlander fleet by @Kyle

The dozen transports full of Sulla’s and Apka's honor guards filled the sky of the capital, approaching the Diet. Sulla looked out over the city which was illuminated by the lights of flying ships and vehicles attempting to find safety for themselves. A glance up at the nighttime sky showed it being lit up by thousands of warships and vessels preparing to shed blood. If one wasn’t aware of the current situation that they were in, the war machines dotting the sky could’ve been mistaken as the many stars in space.

Vafis had already been informed by Sulla of the events transpiring at Taer Atlos. The fleet was on its way. Now whether or not they would arrive in time was the real question but the entire might of House Livia and those loyal to it was going to fight irregardless.

Even in the face of certain death, his defeat still stung his mind and hung over his thoughts. The throne was only one single vote away from him. One vote between him and the power to finally reform the Imperium for the better. One vote between him and the power to cast aside the corruption in favor of justice. And now? He most likely would not even live to see the next emperor sit on the throne, if even the one chosen would survive the battle. Now the best he could do was face combat as any Pelclaren must; with strength and honor which would hopefully give him a glorious death.

All of these thoughts wandered throughout his mind as the transports landed on the platform in front of the Diet. Sulla and Apka stepped out, followed by their men. All of them wore their famed Pelclaren war armor which was decorated with different engravings and markings showing the history as well as the symbols of their clans. Sulla and Apka both had their own curved Zaphyr warblades sheathed and strapped to their hips. The choice of weaponry was optional for the Pelclaren; some chose the warblade or another form of melee weaponry as was traditional with their people or a ranged weapon, there was an even mix in the honor guards of both men.

Apka finally broke the silence and said to his brother, “No matter what happens here...I am proud to have been able to call you my brother...and my leader.”

Sulla responded, “We have been through many battles. Legions have trembled at our feet. Hundreds have fallen at our blades. Whatever happens here we will be bringing honor upon our family. Death is inevitable but the best way to greet it is with strength. And we will fight harder than any man.”

Apka gave a silent nod in return. Sulla took off his war helm and looked out over the cityscape once more. He took in a deep breath and exhaled. As he did a sudden burst could be seen in the sky, rivaling that of a small supernova above the planet. He breathed and exhaled one more time. He was not phased. Many would die, both at his hands and those of the Traitor.

They made their way into the Diet Chamber. It was a sorry sight. Nobles cowering and their men awaiting their deaths. “Gods, this is worse than seeing a cripple trying to fight a tank” Apka said. Sulla chuckled in return. He knew what his men needed before combat and that was a good speech.

He stood up on the Regnier’s desk and cleared his throat before he begun.

“Today a traitor comes here to take this world. He seeks to take the very thing that our ancestors fought and bled for so many centuries ago. But I don’t ask you here to fight for an emperor. I don’t ask you to fight for a man that you will most likely never meet. I don’t ask you to fight for a throne soaked and stained in the blood of those who have tried to conquer it before like the Traitor is doing. I do not ask you to do this and I will never ask you to fight for something you don’t believe in.

But what I do ask is that you fight for the honor of your people. The honor of your clans and the honor of our ancestors. We are the galaxy’s best warriors! Our people have brought worlds and star systems to heel. Cultures have crumbled at our might! I ask you to fight and die honorably so that your children and their children may remember you.

I fight for the men I've held in my arms, dying on foreign soil. I fight for their wives and children, who's names I heard whispered in their last breaths. I fight so that all the fighting I've already done hasn't been for nothing. I fight... because I must. Now is the hour of our victory! Rise up sons and daughters of the Pelclaren people and claim it!”

Pelagius started to beat his hands on his breastplate and repeat the chant, “SULLA! SULLA! SULLA!”, which was followed by all of their men. After the chanting Sulla asked Apka a question.

“Would you be willing to lead the defenses outside the Diet?”

“I would” he said.

“How many of you would follow my brother in being our first line of defense?” Many of them stepped forward in front of their brethren. “Good. You will be our initial bulwark against the Traitor. Fortify the bridge leading into the Diet and the landing pads with canons and anything else you may find. To those who wish to stay”, he said looking at everyone’s guards in the building, “Fortify every hallway with anything you can. Block off every chokepoint humanly possible. Set any traps that you can.” Their honor guard hit their chest and marched off.

Sulla stepped down and his brother extended his arm as a sign of respect and Sulla grabbed his forearm as Apka did likewise. Sulla said to him, “You do not come back here unless every intruder is dead. You will give your life if you have to. Do you understand me?”

His brother nodded and Sulla responded, “I will kill the Traitor. I promise this.” With that Apka followed his men and prepared the defenses outside. Sulla drew his warblade and approached Faizal, “Now we wait.”

Taer Atlos Orbit
Drof-Antier Dreadnaught Virammar

Panic rose up in Cruzier Natal as one of the planetary defense fleets disappeared in a flash as blinding as a star. She was dumbstruck for a second. She heard voices screaming in panic and confusion of the comms about what had just happened. But she found herself rooted in place. Had Rian just used a stellar fusion device? In a battle?

It was the only thing that made sense. The Grand Admiral had broken imperial law, used banned weapons, and obliterated thousands upon thousands of lives. If this was the tactics he intended to use, then they were likely all to die here today.

The panic that had frozen her in place lifted and she felt a new resolve. “Scatter our heavy ships,” she ordered, her voice roaring across the bridge of the dreadnought. “If we cluster up we’re dead. Flak ships in close, use fighters to screen incoming missiles. All ships make their heading directly towards the Imperial Starfleet. Let’s see Rian use his doomsday weapons if we’re point blank with his forces. Move it people.”

---

Taer Atlos Orbit
Imperial Command Carrier Hammerhead

“Signal Admiral Lambarge, inform him he has command of the fleet,” Alecto Rian informed Commander Vis. “You’ll take command of the Hammerhead in my absence.”

Vis was genuinely surprised by Rian’s new orders. She relayed his orders without question, then turned back to him and asked, “Where will you be?”

He gave her a reassuring smile. “Landing on Taer Atlos and taking my throne.”

He left the bridge and headed for the hanger deck. His landing troops were ready and already boarding dropships. They’d punched a hole through the planets inner defense ring and the command carrier was pushing through it as they spoke. Once the signal had been given the dropships lifted off the hanger floor and left the carrier behind.

Half of them made their way towards the Imperial Palace and the Celestial Throne. It was imperative they captured the seat of the emperor. But Rian had another target. The other half of his forces, made up mostly of Imperial Heavy Marines, the elite ground forces of the Starfleet.

Anti-Air batteries opened up on his descending ships but his escort of fighters and light corvettes protected them on the approach. One by one his dropships landed at their target discouraging troops. His transport touched down and the landing ramp lowered.

Rian walked out confidently, two dozen heavy marines escorting him. All around him was the sound of weapons fire as his forces battled the royal guard and imperial legions. He also could see forces belonging to numerous royal houses. A makeshift barricade had been thrown up across the bridge leading away from the landing pad, but his marines had already stormed over it and were pushing the defenders back. Beyond the bridgeway he could see the towering domes and spires of the Diet Galactica.

The Diet would undoubtedly be protected by many defenders. The legion, the royal guard, and even noble houses. But if he was to legitimize his rule he needed to capture the true seat of imperial power. Once he had the Diet and the Celestial Throne, no one could deny his destiny as Galactic Emperor.

Taer Atlos

The Imperial Diet

A thousand glittering lights burned across the skies above the capital, the sight would have been beautiful if it hadn't been accompanied by the devastation of the capital world below. Oba couldn’t help but smirk despite the circumstances, fate had afforded him a strange privilege, it wasn’t every day one had a front-row seat to the end of the world. The enemy had well and truly committed to their invasion now, already the airspace above Taer Altos was swarming with enemy craft, the ground rumbled as the defence batteries tried in vain to swat at the invaders.

It was all too little too late, stifled by the overwhelming air superiority the admiral had brought to bear the defenders could only watch as an endless stream of enemies was disgorged from landing dropships. Oba would give the admiral one thing; the traitor knew full well what he needed to do to win this war. Rian had opted to lead a beheading strike to the Diet and if he succeeded in this coup de grace, the entire capital and by extension imperium would fall as well.

The barriers at the landing bays had been swept aside with almost pitiful ease, the heavy marines had massacred the ill-prepared defenders with their trademark surgical precision. The few survivors that had managed to limp back to the Diet proper all told the same story, Starfleet was advancing and they would give no quarter.

The battle that now scorched the firmament was but a spectacular prelude to what was now unfolding on the ground. Here at the heart of the empire, the fate of a galaxy would be decided, the defenders knew it and Rian was counting upon it. The assembled defenders knew that they had only one advantage in their Favour, Time, Rian had to seize victory now or else see it slip away forever. Every moment that resistance continued gave the reinforcements from across the wider imperium a chance to arrive.

It was as all bargains, however; the purchase of time was a transaction made in the blood of thousands. Oba didn’t dare estimate how many had already sacrificed themselves in defiance of the admiral, already the streets were filled with corpses and the heavens above were tainted by the ashes of those who had been burned by the atrocity of stellar fusion. Regardless of the victor, the gods of death would have their payment.

Oba’s thoughts were interrupted as a hail of enemy fire hurtled toward his vantage point, he leapt out the way as the pillar behind him was reduced to a cloud of superheated rubble. He ducked behind an ancient statue and readied his auto gun, a marine in the plaza below opened fire trying to drive Oba out of cover. Oba breathed in and took aim with his rifle, a single shot followed, the enemy collapsed with a smoking hole where his face had been. Oba didn’t have time to grin, a violent salvo of enemy fire pushed him away from the statue as he moved to find new cover.

Within moments the stone ancient deity that had guarded Oba had collapsed, its severed torso descending into the street below and shattering in a cloud of choking dust. Oba snarled as he noted the sharp sensation of pain emanating from the spike of pottery protruding from his shoulder, he gritted his teeth and prized it free. The empire was quite literally falling to pieces around him, that might not have bothered him so much if he hadn't been relying upon it for cover.

Moving deeper into the complex Oba activated his comms and switched his transmission to a wide band. The display on his ageing legionnaire's helm lit up as his surviving comrades prepared to receive his hail. He sighed and leaned heavily against a frescoed wall, it was time to lay out the situation, his men needed to know what they were giving their lives for.

“Warriors of the reach!” he began his voice filled with pride “These many years I have had the honour of leading you and now here at this moment I have the privilege of dying beside you. I'm not going to lie to you and tell you we are here to save the Imperium, we sons of the reach care for this degenerate husk only insomuch as it concerns the safety of our kin back home. Nor will I tell you we are here to save the galaxy or to put a good man's arse onto the Celestial throne, they are all power-hungry vultures who would spend our lives for their advancement! No, the reason we fight is far less glorious but no less vital.

We fight to survive, you have all seen what the traitor is prepared to do to win, if he is willing to burn the skies above the capital, he will have no scruples doing the same on any world that opposes him. Our chances of victory are slim, but each moment we hold this place gives our people at home a greater chance at salvation. I know I am asking much of you all, but there is no other way, hold till the last man! We buy life for the reach with our deaths!” he roared before terminating the transmission

He took a deep breath and steadied himself, he would need absolute focus for what was to come. This would be his greatest and, in all likelihood, last battle, even if he lost it would be a glorious culmination to a storied military career. The thought brought him scant comfort, glory bore the taste of ashes in the mouth whilst his beloved and their son still remained in harm's way. He made his way toward his waiting men, they would fight like demons this day and when they fell, they would take as many of Rian's men with them as they could.

The Oragbade Estate

Tremors shake the fortified bunker causing the lights to flicker violently, I wonder briefly if this hermetically sealed shell will end up being my tomb. The thought of slow death, buried beneath the cold earth of Taer Altos seems vaguely less unpleasant than the prospect of living to see Rian ascend the celestial throne, not that the admiral would likely spare anyone.

I cannot help but wonder if it has all been in vain if all the intrigue and political manoeuvring in the Diet will achieve anything more then to decide who Rian crushes on his path to domination. If you had told me months ago that the man tasked with defending the imperium would strike at its very heart, I would have questioned your sanity. Now though I wonder if that had always been Rian’s destiny, a dark harbinger fated to burn the old order to the ground.

The irony of my present circumstance is not lost upon me, to go from commanding the fates of millions with word alone to being a powerless witness to the struggle occurring outside. In trivial times I comfortably ruled with all the power in the universe, but now when It matters most, I have no choice at all. So, I sit here in the dark with Oranyan clutched tightly to me and I wait either for deliverance or the end.

“Iya?” my son asks in a shaking voice

“Yes, my sweet?” I reply trying my best to smile and sound reassuring

“Are we going to die?” he asks fearfully

It is like a blade to the soul hearing the terror in his words, a parent longs above all else to ensure that their children are safe and yet I have succeeded only in bringing him to a place that might well be our end. I could lie, try and cushion the coming blow with warm words and empty platitudes, but the truth will emerge one way or another, better he is told the facts now.

“That is a possibility,” I say trying my best to sound calm “but nothing is certain my son, the skies above still burn with the fires of fighting and the end is very much still in question,” I say

“I saw the flash in the sky while we were being led here mother, what chance do we have against the traitor now?” he asks in a worried, despairing voice

“Perhaps very little, but If death was enough to deter action a great many noble endeavours would never come to pass” I reply in a calm, matter-of-fact tone

“This isn't the time for riddles mother!” he says exasperated

“It is no riddle my son, when we take an action the Orisha roll the dice, everything in life is a gamble. when our great ancestor Theodore Oragbade fled the tyranny of the temple on old Gidi he did so with nothing but a rusting freighter and the hope of something better. He could have died a thousand times over out in the untamed reaches of space, pirates, disease and even madness could all have claimed his life and none would have shed a tear.” I reply trying to make him understand

“Then why did he take such a risk?” Oranyan asks in an uncertain voice

“Because it was the right thing to do son because he knew that living under the zealotry of the temple and its ignorant creed was no life at all. Death may be terrible but it can only befall you once, when you submit to a tyrant you will die a little every day until you're last. It is the same now Oranyan, Rian may kill us all before this war ends, but to hand him the throne without defiance would be a far worse end. We stand against this madman because we know that it is better to die on your feet with for what is right then it is to submit and live oppressed by wickedness!” I say trying to fill my voice with as much fire and determination as I can muster

“So, we are gambling then?” Oranyan says seeming to understand

“The most uncertain and terrible gamble imaginable my son, but it is one we must make” I reply trying to instil in him how important this all is

Let Rian pound this world to rubble, let his fleets burn it all to ash, I will not surrender to a tyrant. If I am to die here on Taer Altos then I will make this cold bunker my tomb, I will die in the dark soil of this place and count the cold suffocation a better end then living to see that vile traitor win. There is no other way, death or victory are the only outcomes.

Taer Atlos Orbit

Bridge of the Obatala

The bridge shook as stray shots pounded against the hull of the Obatala, Starfleet’s armada was close now and they welcomed the arrival of the Oragbade fleet with a fresh salvo of ordinance. Balogun Sedeko took a moment to assess the situation, the charge had been successful in closing the distance but it had been damned costly, countless broken wrecks were strewn across the orbit of Taer Altos. What came next was unlikely to be any less costly but all the same, here they were close enough to fight without the risk of another fusion weapon.

“Open a channel, fleet-wide transmission” Sedeko yelled over the roar of battle

Her bridge crew obliged and set the comms to broadcast

“This is Balogun Sedeko, we have closed the distance with the enemy fleet, it was not without cost, we have all lost comrades today and I call upon each of you to make the enemy pay for it!

The royal fleet will follow the Obatala as we engage the enemy's capital ships and the rest of you corsairs, pirates and freebooters are to do what you do best. Scatter around the enemy and harass, distract and tie-down anything with a Starfleet logo! The first one to down a ship gets a barrel of palm wine from my personal collection! Now go, you glorious bastards! be like the proverbial horseflies and bite Rian’s backside!” Her bellowing declaration was met with raucous laughter and roars of approval by the free armada

Sedeko scanned the tactical display and noted that other house fleets were closing the gap too, if they had any chance of winning, they had to keep the pressure on Starfleet. She turned to her second and pointed to a nearby capital ship. It was time to repay the traitors in kind.

“Bring us alongside that vessel, prepare a broadside!” she said coldly, it was time to retort

Taer Atlos, Throne Room

The Emperor and Azuari had made their way to the throne with several of the palace staff. From the Celestial Throne Arnu had an unmatched means of battle tracking. Raw data, and video feeds poured in on the rooms many displays of both the ground fight and the naval battle above. His eyes were especially keen on the feeds coming in from the Flagship Peacemaker. He was Emperor of the Imperium Galactica, and now orchestrater of the what would be one of the galaxy's battles, but his thoughts were concentrated on his son. He was briefly interrupted however by a frantic aid entering the Throne Room. "Your Majesty!" He cried." Sulla's forces have entered the Diet!" Arnu gave the man a smile. "To aid us or to kill us?" The aide caught his breath and thought for a second. "I...uh...I don't know your Majesty". Arnu looked up at the center display, and gave the command. "Bring up the Diet chamber." He had missed most of Sulla's rousing speech, but he did hear the guttural "Sulla! Sulla! Sulla!" Arnu couldn't help but laugh. "Fear not my friends. The Diet will not fall." He turned his head to another aid. "Return to the main feed from Peacemaker and hail Minras." The screen buzzed to life. "Minras report." He barked. Minras did not look towards the screen, but answered "There are many more than we thought, but we're inflicting heavy losses. We're also closing the gap father. We need to move into brawling range to remove their fusion weapon advantage." Arnu nodded. "Can you do a short warp?" Minras shook is head. "We can't find anything close enough to lock the warp core onto, we have to close the distance at sub-light." "Okay." Arnu said uneasily. "Minras be care-" The Emperor was interrupted however by the Peacemaker's bridge sirens. The blaring noise was accompanied by what Arnu recognized as the voice of Captain Vas. "Minras!" He yelled. "Take evasive action! The Peacemaker is the next fusion target! Take evasion action!" Arnu's heart sank. "Minr-" He began but his son cut him off. "Find us something to lock the core onto now!" He yelled to his bridge, get us moving now!" He looked down at the feed and smiled. "I love you dad." he said as the feed cut out. Arnu stared at the blank display and took Azuari into his arms. "Hail the Obatala." He said shaking. "Obatala coming through now you Majesty." "Sedeko." He said quietly. "Is my son alive?"

---

Imperial Flagship Peacemaker

The bridge sirens blared as the Peacemaker's navigator desperately looked for a warp out. Minras was shouting at his Captains to make haste, while in the background of it all Captain Vas gave a solemn narration of the Hammerhead's targeting procedures. "We have lock!" Cried the navigator. "Get us moving Minras ordered, and broadcast to fleet." "Aye Sir." Several deck officers responded. "20 seconds to warp." the navigator attempted to say, but he was drowned out by Vas. "You're locked, Hammerhead engaging weapon, get out of there!" The bridge was a cacophony of sound as various officers shouted over each other "Sir the broadcast is just barely out, the fleet won't mak-Sir! 10 seconds to wa-Minras get out of there!" Minras grasped the railing of his command perch and closed his eyes, siren blaring in his mind. "We're in warp!" Minras' eyes shot open, the space outside began to distort and ripple violently as the combined forces of transwarp and the fusion weapon clashed. The Peacemaker shuttered violently as nearly half the Khor fleet was erased. "HULL INTEGRITY COMPROMISED, HULL INTEGRITY COMPOMISED DROPPING FROM TRANSWARP HULL INTEGRITY COMPROMISED" Boomed the ship's AI. HULL INTEGRITY COMPROMISED COMPARTMENTALIZING. The AI continued. Minras did his best to stay upright as the ship lurched and groaned. Finally he made it back up to his console. ALL HANDS THIS IS YOUR CAPTIAN. ABANDON SHIP!

Taer Atlos Orbit
Drof-Antier Dreadnaught Virammar

A second flash from a stellar fusion weapon lit up the Virammar’s, lasting only for a few moments, then fading. It left a gap in their tac-screen, an empty void where dozens of ships once were. Now nothing, just stellar dust.

Immersa Natal didn’t have time to react to the loss of life that had just occurred. Her own forces, closing the gap on the Starfleet’s forces, were having their own trouble.

Her two flanking carriers weren’t coming about quick enough, and the Starfleet heavy battleship directly ahead was unleashing a full barrage of its main cannons.

“Bring your nose about, gods dammit,” Immersa bellowed into the com as her port carrier escort’s shields failed.

“Starboard propulsion is damaged,” came the reply from the Almaddi Isul. “Rerouting power to shield reserves—“

The transmission cut out and the tac-screen showed the Almaddi beginning to break apart as the Starfleet heavy battleship tore through her hull. Emergency beacons began to pop up as lifeboats were ejected from the burning hull.

“Flak boats, cover the Hanaptra,” she ordered, focusing her attention on her last carrier. Whatever survivors there were from the Almaddi would have to wait. There was no time for rescue operations.

Across the battle space her forces were getting hammered. They’d spread out to avoid being a target for one of the fusion devices, but as they closed on the Starfleet forces, this was leaving many without support or backup. She could see reports on her tac-screen showing many of her forces being sniffed out.

“Hanaptra has come about and is now behind our shield barrier,” her first officer reported.

“Then spread our flak ships out in front of us and have our missile boats start bombarding that damned battleship.”

It was then that another bright flash lit up the tac-screen right to their rear. The battleship had fired a fusion device at near point-blank range. Dozens of her support ships vanished at the edge of the fusion blast. The Hanaptra’s stern disintegrated in the blast. The front end veered off its trajectory and passed through the Virammar’s shields, colliding with their hull.

She was thrown from her chair as inertial dampeners fought to compensate. Rolling shock waves passed through the hull as entire decks vented to space. Secondary explosions tore at the ship’s structur. The Dreadnaught was already veering off course, its starboard side being exposed to the Starfleet. Weapons fire from the battleship was already passing through their failing shields.

Immersa didn’t have to read the incoming damage reports to know just how bad things were. The ship's engines had already failed, and auxiliaries were burning out every second that passed.

She pulled herself back up into her chair and activated ship wide comms. “All hands, abandon ship.”

---

To Valhalla! REMASTERED - Antti Martikainen

The Hvitt's bridge
above Taer Atlos
in the midst of battle

"This fleet won't last," Hákon said sternly. That put Thor on edge. He was used to relying on Hákon. If he was this dire then... would they die? Here?

"No, not much longer," Aaron replied before surveying the chaos before them.
"But..." the Imperial fleet's last Stellar Fusion Device had hit empty space.
"Brodie, Hákon, do you remember the Schwarz Moon offensive? During the rebellion?"

"Those were hover tank formations, not interstellar fleets," Brodie protested, but they fell on deaf ears as Aaron focused on the Hammerhead.

"Hákon, can our guns penetrate its armour?"

"That's the Hammerhead. The most powerful warship ever built," Hákon replied.
"This is a fine ship herself, but we're going to have to get close to penetrate her armour."

"Yep," Aaron replied, "close enough that no officer in that fleet will fire on us with those fusion weapons."

"Aaron," Brodie protested, but Aaron wasn't having it.

"Even if Rian gets to the throne, I'm making sure there's a quiver of arrows pointed at him. Even if we're not alive to be part of it."

"Uncle Aaron," Thor said, causing Aaron to look over at his relative.

"I'm sorry," Aaron remarked, walking over to him. He was shaking as he placed a hand on Thor's shoulder.
"I'm sorry we just got to know each other before this. If you want to turn back, the gods won't take it as an insult. Your people will need a leader. Whatever happens."

Thor, though, shook his head.
"My people are here in this fleet. I'll die with them. And you, Uncle."

Aaron bowed his head a moment and nodded before turning to Hákon and Brody.
"Ready for one more suicide slide?"

"Always," Hákon said with a grim chuckle.

"Well..." Brodie replied, "it's as good a day as ever to die."

An explosion rocked the ship as Aaron went to reach for the coms.

"Hull integrity at 70%, Margrave!"

"It's more than we need..." Aaron gripped the coms.
"Patch me through to the Soderland fleet."

"Aye Sir."

"This is Margrave Aaron Rhodes! We have a chance to strike before the enemy can adjust to the scattered fleet! The Black Wolves and Battle Techs will form up on the White Company's left! The Þýran Sacred Band will lead us to the Hammerhead! The Troll Guard and the Sisterhood will flank our right! Fear no treason or usurper!

The ship rocked as enemy fire rained down on it.

"Warriors of the Sodlands! Your shielding will buckle, and your cannons will shake, but today is a good day! A day where we got it to the bitter end against those who would subjugate all of us, but we die so the suns of our world will rise on free peoples once more! Fly now! Fly now for ruin and the galaxy's end! To death!"

"Death!"
"Death!"
"Death!"
"Death!"
"Death!"

The words came back from the various Sodland mercenary fleets as Aaron stared down the Hammerhead.

"All remaining shielding power to forward shields!" Aaron yelled. The enemy fire blasting the Hvitt's hull lessened as the fleets formed and made their way to the Imperial flagship.

Aaron looked over at Thor.
"I hope," he said softly.
"That should we survive you never have to see war again."

Thor nodded nervously and then... he saw a Stellar Fusion Device appear to be activated... Hákon looked down, muttering a prayer as Aaron clutched the railing on the Hvitt's bridge. The Sacred Band would do their duty...

...and they did. The The Þýran Sacred Band's flagship slammed itself into the deploying Stellar Fusion Device, a powerful shockwave shaking the ship as a blinding light filled the bridge of the Hvitt.

The light cleared...

"They're gone! The Sacred Band's gone!" Thor exclaimed in horror, only for Hákon to nod solemnly.
"They did what they did...to give us a path..."

The Imperial command ship that had tried to deploy the Stellar Fusion Device was burning from the inside out admits the debris of the Sacred Band's flagship.

Aaron looked down, jaw clenched. He knew this would happen. The Sodland fleet forming up with give the Imperial fleet a target to blast with a SFD. Now though...the path was clear.

"Forward!" he yelled into the com without looking up.

"We're within the red zone!" Hákon called out. And indeed they were. No one would dare fire a fusion device now, for fear of hitting the Hammerhead.

"FIRE AT WILL!" Aaron yelled into the com.

The Sodland fleet emerged from the ball of light caused from the failed fusion device attack, raining blasts down on the Hammerhead at close range, practicality point blank in terms of interstellar combat.

The Hvitt shook mightily as the Hammerhead fired back and Aaron stared intently at the view screen.

"The Sisterhood has broken through the hull!"

"The Black Wolves have taken out the forward cannons!"

"Shield integrity at 8%"

The flurry of status updates being yelled at Aaron bounced off of him like hail against a tin roof.

"Fire until we're nothing left!" he yelled...

"Shields at 3% and falling!"

"If this is it...it's been an honour. To fight alongside, and to know you," Aaron remarked to Brodie and Hákon as another loud bang rocked the Hvitt.

"Well I'll take great joy in making you say that to me again, later," Brodie replied breathlessly.

"It's...broken," Thor said in amazement as Hákon laughed and hugged Aaron from behind as he looked up. Seeing the Hammerhead on fire.

"We did it!" he bellowed as Aaron gasped. He could hardly believe it. His own ship battered and on the verge of death, and yet buzzing the exploding body of the Imperial flagship.

"Emperor Rian's going to need a new ride it seems," Hàkon laughed...

"All power to shields," Aaron replied.
"And turn to face the rest of the fleet."

---

Rohan Theme by L'Orchestra Cinématique, 4:11

OOC Note: Given permission to RP the Soderlander fleet by @Kyle

Aboard Penfro Ship Dialedd

The roar of battle wasn't exactly new to the members of House Penfro, but this was truly insane. Entire fleets did battle with each other, capital ships sheering under the combined fire of their opposition, cruisers exploding in space and enough wings of fighters to ensure that just as many died in collisions as they did from fire. This was war, but not like anything ever seen before. Amongst the chaos, the three raiders brought by Owain ap Selyf tried their best to remain out of the fiercest part of the fighting.

"Tell the Gwrthryfel to stick closer to our wing. I want the cover." Owain ordered of his communications officer, even as he rolled the Dialedd to avoid incoming fire. "And tell Arp if he can't keep the Eginiad on course I'll kick his arse when this is over." Despite the peril and the near certain prospect of death, Owain felt emboldened. Here was a chance to actually make a difference... if only he could find one ship. "I need scans. Cut through the interference."

"Owain, in this situation, everyone is trying to scramble everyone else's sensors. I get nothing but loopback pings." A crewman trying to locate the ship told him. The ship shuddered as a wave of fire came in, but the raiders were built to withstand close scrapes and knocks with asteroids in pursuit of pirates, and held together. Owain actually whooped. "Yeah! This old bird is tougher than she looks."

The three ships found suddenly found their way clear of a particularly large group of ships, that were locked in combat with each other. They had a possible route away from the battle if needed, but Owain order them to turn back towards the fighting, just as Arp's ship hailed his. "Owain, I've found the ship. I've found the Red Dahlia. With so much scrambling we had to cut through by following the feedback loops, and it's near. Sending you co-ordinates now." Owain confirmed that he'd received them and ordered his three ships to a new heading.

"All ships come about to the heading being sent to your helms. Stay close and as soon as I give the order, send as much static and false sensor readings out as possible. I don't care if they work or not, I just want these twats deafened. Stay safe, and if you can't stay safe, make sure they aren't safe either. Owain out." He cut the channel and turned to his bridge crew. "Tell our fleet we're making a run on a specific cruiser. I'd apologise for our absence but..." He paused as his viewscreen was momentarily whited out, as an Imperial command ship imploded whilst trying to deploy a Stellar Fusion Device, after a Sodland ship seemed to ram it. "I think they might be alright."

Owain stood briefly to address his crew, even as the trio of ships began to move in to attack. "This is our once chance. We of House Penfro are too few and too small to have the effect of some of our allies in this endeavour. There is not much we can do here, but we can make a difference, just as every ship in this battle is struggling to. The way we make a difference here is taking revenge for the death of my father and all those aboard his ship. The Red Dahlia is here. The ship that abandoned him to die. We are going to destroy that ship, and anyone else in this blasted traitor fleet we can. I fuddugoliaeth! I ddial! Penfro Tŷ!"

The ships closed on Red Dahlia, Dialedd taking the lead, taking heavy fire from the enemy ship. Their formation split as they attempted to avoid the more powerful weapons of Red Dahlia. Dialedd and Gwrthryfel tried to help themselves to the Red Dahlia's shields, but their weapons weren't having much effect. Despite this, they kept firing, but took heavy damage in return. In the heat of combat, Owain wasn't aware that Arp had positioned the Eginiad directly in front of the enemy ship. It was only after prompting from his first officer that he noticed. He jumped on the comms and hailed his youngest brother.

"What are you doing Arp?"

"This is the only way to get those shields down. I can't lead this house, but you can. For father! Mae heddiw yn ddiwrnod da I farw!"

Owain could only watch as the Eginiad engaged full engines, and punched right into the Red Dahlia's bridge. A series of explosions rocked the cruiser, as Owain ordered his remaining two raiders to hit them with everything they had. It wasn't long before the Red Dahlia was nothing more than a burning wreck in space. The two ships from House Penfro formed up, and rejoined the fight. Selyf ap Tywysog had been avenged, but Owain couldn't help but think there had to have been another way. First his father, now his brother.

The Imperium had claimed much from House Penfro. If it survived this day, Owain resolved to claim as much back from it as he could.

Brigdge of the Obatala

Taer Atlos Orbit

Seconds passed as Sedeko stared blankly at the tactical map, it was like the universe had flipped upon its head, more accurately though Aaron Rhodes had just changed everything. Cheers erupted across the fleet comms as the Hammerhead broke apart and exploded into countless vast islands of debris, it was the most beautiful sight of Sedeko’s existence. What had seemed like a suicide mission mere moments ago now looked very different.

“This is Balogun Sedeko” she said opening the fleet-wide transmission “Form up around the Hvitt and prepare to concentrate fire! Let see how the traitors fare without their precious toys! Choke the underworld with their dead!” she roared

“Death to the traitors!” one ship's captain yelled in reply

“Let's see how the Oyinbo fight now!!!” another called out bombastically

“Lord Rhodes, we fight with you!” she said as she hailed the Hvitt

The surviving ships of the royal fleet and the free armada began to form up around the Hvitt, their forms becoming something like a protective shield as they drew the traitors fire away from the stricken warship. The Obatala took its place at the head of this new formation, the bridge was filled with new energy as feelings of dread were replaced by a new spirit of defiance. Lord Rhodes had just levelled the playing field in dramatic fashion and Sedeko intended to take full advantage.

“concentrate our fire on their capital ships, we are going to make them wish they had stayed at their posts!” Sedeko said with a wolfish grin

*********************************************************************************

Brigdge of the Obatala

Taer Atlos Orbit

The comms flashed as a hail from Taer Atlos came through “Sedeko?” a voice asked quietly “Is my son alive?” the emperor asked, his voice barely recognizable amidst the static and chaos of battle

The Peacemaker’s death had been a gruesome sight, as near as anyone could tell it had been erased along with half the Khor fleet when the Hammerhead had fired its fusion weapons. There had been some Oragbade reports of a transwarp signature being picked up moments before the impact of the device, but in the chaos of battle, there had been little time to investigate. Now Sedeko wondered if the peacemaker had really been burned with the other vessels.

“I know not your majesty; I will task all available ships to find him,” she said in a respectful tone before closing the comms

She scanned the tactical map, there were few resources she could spare for a rescue attempt, even for a person as important as the imperial heir. She noted three combat vessels close enough to the debris field to attempt a search. Sedeko opened her comms and transmitted on an encrypted channel, it was best not to risk the enemy knowing the emperor's son was potentially floating defenceless through space.

“Captains of the Oko, Owolo and the Jebba, this is Balogun Sedeko, I have a task for you”

***********************************************************************************

Khor fleet graveyard

Taer Atlos Orbit

Olo Bandasi could not stop reaching for the cryo cylinder at the back of his command throne, it had become a compulsion he couldn’t shake as the battle had turned from bad to worse. Inside the cylinder was a bottle of the finest palm wine, a rare strain of the red tree, the tappers only visited the scarlet groves on Ibeja once every century to harvest. He had kept it with him throughout years of fighting and trading always waiting for the last battle.

He had spent much of the battle of Taer Atlos thinking he would have to drink it in haste before he was sped on his way to the afterlife, with the hammerheads destruction he was finally hopeful that a more pleasant option awaited. Olo had always intended to drink the bottle at the end of his career, a fitting way to end his proudest victory. If he survived Taer Atlos he would drain the red sap to its last drop.

However, before he could contemplate victory there was a pressing matter at hand, the Balogun herself had tasked his ship with searching for survivors. It was a task easier said than done, deep space rescues were challenging even in peacetime but to attempt one while the largest space battle in recent history raged around them complicated things even further. Nonetheless, the free armada obeyed its Balogun and began ferrying in as many escape pods as they could acquire.

It had proved a grisly task, sometimes the pods would open and disgorge groups of wild-eyed survivors who would need to be triaged in the med bay, most often though they would crack the sealed doors and find only corpses. The men soon grew miserable as they said the ancient prayer for those lost in the stars before pushing the pods back out to serve as floating tombs.

Olo knew time was running out, they were exposed out here in the wider battle and three merchantmen would not last long if a Starfleet cruiser decided to investigate. Olo watched as his crew in the cargo bay fished another pod out of the blackness, it opened with a hiss and a dozen ragged-looking Khor officers all but fell out the entrance. Even on the monitor, Olo could make out the long stare in the survivors' eyes, these men had seen the horrors of war firsthand.

“Olo, we need to hurry, I'm picking up readings from the edge of the sector, the traitors are getting nosy!” Olo’s navigator called out fearfully over the comms

Olo sighed and nodded, they had done all they could but the reality was that the situation was now beyond their control. He scanned his tactical map and noted the distinct heat signatures of Starfleet engines, it was too early to ascertain whether it was a frigate or something larger, but Olo didn’t intend to stay and find out.

“Send a message to the Owolo and the Jebba, we are pulling out,” he said as he watched the heat signatures growing closer and larger

The Jebba and Owolo powered up their engines and moved toward the Oko, they would jump as one and link up with the wider fleet. The Oko hummed as its engines burned into life once more, it was then that Olo noticed something flashing on his tactical display. It was an escape pod and it had signs of life, faint but definitely there. He sighed and calculated its distance; it was close enough that it could be reeled in if they moved quickly.

“Sir we have to go!” Navigator Jabu hissed in an urgent voice

“I decide when we move bastard!” He growled back “tell the men to reel in that pod! Then we jump!” he snapped in a commanding tone

To his credit, Jabu pulled himself together and relayed the order, moments later the ships maintenance claws were scooping up the pod and reeling it into the maw of the cargo bay. It reminded Olo of the scorch lobsters on Oduduwa as they fed on smaller shellfish. Once the pod was inside the bay there was no time to do anything but jump.

“Get us out of here, all ships prepare to jump!” Olo yelled as the lights in the bridge turned dark red

The three vessels began to shake as their transwarp drives blared into life, the enemy vessels were now at the edge of the sector, their shadowy forms promising swift death to anything that lingered. The warning klaxons on Olo’s terminal screeched as the Starfleet vessels began to reach firing range, but then came the momentary nausea that proceeded a jump.

In the blink of an eye, the three vessels vanished, leaping into the warp moments before obliteration. In their absence there was nothing save the silence of the void and the ghostly remains of dead warships.

Mythin 1st Fleet
The flagship HIMS Mjölnir - Jötunn-Class Cruiser
At Warp

Vizflottamarskalk Freyr Westgard was the first to pick up the message of call to arms from Regnier Rhodes and answered immediately, scrambling as many ships as he could, relaying the message to Vinhelm and heading to Taer Atlos. Despite the size of House Storingeen's fleet, the marshal managed to get together a small but formidable and maneuverable fleet, with 3 Jötunn-Class Cruisers as the tip of the spear.

Sitting in his command chair, he looked into the vast abyss of the warp with his grumpy face, a hint of arrogance and his trusty deathstick.

"Fjörmann, transmit a message to the fleet; weapons condition 1 if we get out of warpspeed" said Westgard as he commanded his chief operations officer

The fleetmen and women of the ad hoc formation was a mixed bag. Some of them served with the marshal since his posting and some just graduated out of the naval academy.

"Sir, the Sodland fleet has already engaged Rian's starships"

Hearing this, from his 2IC, Förste Kommodore Volla Ringstad, the marshal stood up and began commanding his fleet directly.

"Alright everybody, man your stations. Fjörmann, weapons to condition 1 now. Uldir, prepare to engage the shields. We bring back Her Illustrious Highness intact or die trying."

As the fleet exited the warp, they were greeted by the sight of Sodland's fleet battling the traitorous Rian. This was no pirate hunt, Westgard put out his death stick and focused on the bigger picture.

"Fjörmann, weapons free on the traitors"

The marshal was swarmed by Rian's smaller vessels on the flank of the Hammerhead. The vast volley of kinetic and coilgun battery fire of the 3 cruisers decimated the smalled craft of the traitors, but a few destroyers managed to inflict substantial damages to Kommodore Njör and Móldir's ships.

Just minutes into the battle and a message is heard on fleet comms

"Ljór 1-1 to any Ducal units, request immediate support, Ljór 1-0 needs evac now"

This was Commandant Riizan of the Duchess' personal guard. Reacting to the call for help, Westgard ordered a few Alfmir strike fighters and a Wirhund destroyer to land on the imperial capital.

As coilgun fire continued towards the rebellious fleet, Westgard noticed something. The Sodlanders smashed the Hammerhead into nothing but rubble. The scene was moving. Massive cheers rang out on the bridge and on fleet comms. Even the old warcry of "Gi meg død eller ære" (Give me death or glory) rang out. Seeing this the marshal gave the order.

"This is Vizflottamarskalk Freyr Westgard to the entire fleet, prepare for broadside barrage, overload the coilguns and form around the Regnier's vessels. We're finishing this."

Taer Atlos
Diet Galactica

Faizal listened to the Pelclarens chanting the names of their leader as they prepared for battle. His own people were steadfastly putting up barriers and preparing for the battle.

“Do you think that helps?” Faizal asked.

Aram Vulgurhros looked up from checking a rifle’s ammo. “The speech? Yeah. It gets the blood pumping and adrenaline flowing. Commanders do it to give their fighters an edge right off the bat.”

Faizal had been educated his whole life to lead a house and rule over vast territories. He knew how to fight with a saber and a pistol but combat had never been something he was trained in. But he was about to get a crash course today.

He stood up in front of his men, commanding their attention. “Son’s of the Harradin, my brothers. Today we stand against a traitor and his horde. We may fall today, but the galaxy will remember our last stand. Our deeds will echo down through time until the universe ends.”

A loud crash against the Diet doors were heard, followed by another, and another. “Rian’s forces seek to break in. We will meet him with blood and fire. Let us give an accounting of ourselves. To the last man!”

He saw his men nodding, some steeling their jaws for what was to come. It wasn’t much of a speech, but he was pleased to see a positive reaction. Then the doors were smashed in and a squad of heavy marines stormed in, their weapons firing all around.

Faizal pointed towards the door. “There’s our enemies,” he roared. “Kill them all!”

Everything around him happened fast. He ducked behind cover as lasers blasted away at the air around him. He fired his pistol. Sometimes he hit something. Mostly he missed. He was terrified, and knew his hands were shaking. But he kept on.

The few times he hit a marine, his blast just deflected off their armor. The only thing that even made it through was the heavier weapons that Aram and the Drof-Antier guards had brought. Elsewhere others were firing, and blasts flashed back and forth. There were screams and howls, and smoke and fire.

A guard got hit in the chest next to Faizal and his entire torso vanished in white hot fire. Faizal felt like screaming and hiding, but the adrenaline had taken him. He fired his pistol, a howl of fury from his lungs, as he dashed behind a low wall. Rubble rained down all around him.

And then he was there, dressed in shiny black armor. Alecto Rian, Supreme Commander of the Imperial Starfleet, traitor and attempted usurper. He walked through the ruined doors, a laser blast deflecting off his armor. He carried a saber in his hand and looked at the chaos around him as if he was inspecting a formation of troops.

Faizal lifted his pistol, still screaming his battle roar, and fired. But nothing came out. His pistol had run out of charge. He tossed it aside, drawing his own saber as Rian looked his way. Faizal charged.

Rian waved his marines away, an eager smile on his face. He raised his blade, and awaited the Archduke’s son. Faizal slashed at Rian’s head, but the Grand Admiral blocked it expertly. He blocked the next thrust, and then the next slash, and then he was pressing his own attack.

Faizal had to leap backwards to miss a slash at his chest. He blocked the next lunge, but a rebound slash cut deep into the flesh of his upper arm. He howled in pain and stumbled backwards. Rian came again, and Faizal raised his saber to parry. His foot came down on a piece of rubble and his ankle twisted. He fell backwards onto the floor, his saber falling from his grasp, and then Rian was standing over him.

Alecto Rian grinned with a look of wicked satisfaction. He raised his sword to bring it down on Faizal. But then there was a fierce battle cry and Rian spun around. Sulla came out of the smoke, his own blade raised, and attacked Rian.

---

Duel of the Fates - John Williams

RNN Firebird - Bridge

Captain Hikul gripped the armrests tightly as his ship was struck yet again, the hull groaning in protest as more armor was torn off the blast, as sections of shielding sputtered on and off, the once clean, ceremonial, uniforms of the crew stained in grime and blood, while the battlecruiser chugged on forward, closing the distance with the opposing fleet as the other capital ships were picked off one by one

tirelessly, the gunners fired upon the enemy vessels, slugs of various calibers and speeds thrown about by mass drivers and autocannons; with anger behind every trigger pull, the streaks of orange tracers only broken by the launch of yet another missile from the rows of silos

upon the transponder and FoF tag from the Hanaptra ceasing, Hikul ordered the ship to turn, pulling besides the Virammar , as the bow of the ship pushed aside the debris
from the felled vessel, screening the dreadnought from the incoming fire

with naught but a gesture, a comm chanel was hastily opened to the covered ship, the slightly worse for wear Nelidian captain speaking up

"This is Captain Hikul from the Firebird, we will cover you, but we cant hold forever... make this count..."

with that, power was diverted from the engines, and the shields were reinforced, ready to make as a punching bag while the crew of Virammar abandoned ship






Supermarine - Hans Zimmer

"Try them again," Antica stated.

The servant complied. The hologram transmitted only static noise and a flickering render.

"Damnit," Antica drew a breath as the cries of carnage grew closer and closer. Only hours prior did the traitor Rian make landfall. Now, the bloody screams of soldiers echoed up the streets and within the Diet itself. Antica knew it was only a matter of time before she herself was... She abandoned that thought.

By now, the sun should've been rising on the shattered Empire and whether or not she lived past today, she was cornered. Even in the heat of her likely undoing, it was hard to face that House Livia and to a greater extent, House Arcdothien lost by one vote. She failed her responsibility to bring honor to her household and she would pay the price.

"Still nothing?"

"No m'lady," the servant answered.

"How can we be sure they aren't up there," Antica pointed to the sky. The sky had thickened to a dark crimson, nothing like the usual dawns of the Empire. It was evidenciary of the thousands of explosions, lasers, and battles taking place—she should be up there. "We can always take some guards, leave the Diet, and join the battle."

"Your highness, with all due respect, we cannot abandon the planet, for your safety is—"

"We would be doing a greater service by fighting for it, where it matters. Whether or not he captures the throne is impacted by the numbers he can keep deploying on this planet and right now that number is strong. We need to break his supply chain no matter what."

"Even if we were to attempt to leave the world, your highness, there's a strong likelihood we will perish under orbit."

Antica staying quiet was enough confidence-inducing for her to continue, "Admiral Rian of the Imperial Fleet has that big arsenal of weapons, and you can't risk—"

"It's not Admiral Rian," Antica ejected, "It's not Admiral Rian and it never will be! He's a traitor, filth, and House Arcdothien needs to see him through. We need to be fighting that bitch."

As Antica aimed to leave for the elevator a shock reverberated up the building. Some of her ladies-in-waiting screamed. Another shock, and another, then the sounds of sheer terror exploded from downstairs. Antica turned ghostly pale, she knew what she had to do.

"Reset the transmitter now! We need to contact the Aldikari parliament!" She turned back toward the center of the room, "Now!"

"What can they do for us now?" the servant said, her voice quivering, eyes deadset on the elevator.

"If the Arcdothien fleet can't be here then I know whose can."

---

Maura had been traveling for days. The Rim Worlds were no easy place to come to and back from, but the voidness of the Traverse was especially exhausting. Never since she was a child had the systems been so quiet. The fears circulated among her ships in whispers and shadows, so some tenth of her forces dissipated on their journey. She couldn't blame them when silence was all that they felt night and day; whatever night and day were anymore. This, only accented by the truth that Antica hadn't even tried to contact them, making her feel even more isolated. They were barreling toward death, but death had already discovered them.

Maura continued to gaze blankly into her ceiling when her cabin door slid opened and shut with an air-sucking sound.

"Who?"

"It's Rev," he murmured.

"Come to tell me we're any closer? I checked, it's at least another hour."

"No, no, no." He pulled up a discarded chair and leaned into her bubble, "The men... they're quiet, could use some resounding speech." He added a smile for effect.

"I don't do speeches, I do battles."

"They know that, but just because you're safe doesn't mean they'll be." He rubbed his face, "Look, we're going into a fight we can't win and—"

"You think I don't know that Rev?" Maura sat up. "You think I'm ok with any of this?" She sighed. "I am sending these men to their death," she grabbed her jacket off the bed and barreled toward the door. "I would prefer to be alone."

"It's not your fault..."

"But it's going to be," Maura swerved on her feet, "we command a merchant fleet, the closest we've come to any shit like this is beating the shit out of some shit-eating pirates. Even fancy upgrades won't spare lives. The enemy—Rian, won't care if we're in some dinky cruiser or if we're in some capital ship sprinkled with gods damned spice! We're fucked."

"We're fucked and Antica won't even give us a call Rev. We don't know if she's alive—"

"That's not true," Rev exclaimed, "it ain't." He got up this time, easily towering over Maura. "She's a politician and as long as shadows roam, she'll keep kickin'. Not to mention, that beacon Rhodes sent out..."

"What beacon?"

Rev smiled, "Come to the bridge, you'll see."

---

"Play the message again," Maura said. Her gaze was transfixed on the broadcaster.

"To the Great Houses and Fleets defending Taer Atlos! To the Legion below guarding our capital! This is Margrave Aaron Rhodes of Holseta. Reginer of the Imperium. Before the combined Houses and peoples of the Empire...rejoice! We have, in accordance with our laws, named Arnu of House Khor our new Emperor! Long may he reign, and long may his line sit upon the Celestial Throne! We have a duty though, because as we assemble in the skies above our capital, an enemy approaches....Admiral Rian. I know you can hear me. Stand down. You will only find blood here above Taer Atlos. You are a criminal. You are a traitor. And the men you lead, you lead to their disgrace. You will face us, as we rally to the rightful, lawful Emperor, and you will fall. May the gods show you mercy for all you've done. Long live the Emperor! For the Imperium!"

"For the bloody fucking Imperium!" Rev cried, his mouth was agape.

"When did we receive this?" Maura folded her arms and faced Admiral Alderi.

"Not only a few hours ago Grand Admiral Maura," he replied, "But there has been a more interesting development." He stalked toward the center of the enclosed space, stopped, and clapped twice. The chime of a hologram seemed before an image, as big as the room, appeared out of nothingness. It rendered to show a full scale map, interactable map of Taer Atlos's orbit. Alderi stepped over the layout, where he moved the image would vanish then reappear.

"This is a model we captured of the battlefield from before you came in here."

Maura let her mouth fall agape as she surveyed the destruction. There was day's worth of fighting, that was apparent. Meaning, they had been late to the battle. She walked over to the defending side and the missing Khor fleet. She grimaced at the losses. Then she let her gaze lift to the Imperial Fleet. "Where's the Hammerhead?"

The Admiral couldn't hold back the smile that made itself, "Gone Maura. It's gone."

Maura felt her heart skip a beat. "What does this mean?"

"What do you mean what does this mean? Haha!" Rev pumped his fist in the air, "We're going to win, we're going to kick those bastards into the abyss. Say hi to Narn for me, will ya?!" Rev was howling.

Maura turned toward Alderi, "So Rian's gone?"

His face hardened, "No, not necessarily." He gave a pointed stare at Rev.

Rev pulled back, "What?"

"It seems in the destruction he was lost and communication from the planet has been all but severed for our fleet."

Maura pocketed the information and stared longingly toward the planet's surface. Even a computer render brought her a drop of hope.

"Now what about Antica?" Rev asked.

"Like I said Commander, communication to and from the planet is all but severed."

"Hmm," Maura breathed, "If Rian is dead and his flagship reduced to atoms, why do they still fight?"

Alderi clapped his hands and the image dissipated, the lights came back on and the room's black out windows folded.

"Your guess is as good as mine Grand Admiral, but if I had to speculate... it could be that they have nothing left to lose. Their defeat will mean the heaviest war crimes in the galaxy and we all know what that means."

Maura shuddered, "Yes I thought the same thing, but it doesn't add up, not for me."

"Admiral! Come here! Quick!"

The three of them ran onto the main bridge platform.

"What is it? Speak clearly."

"Yes Admiral, we are picking up multiple targets on entry. We have five minutes until we reach orbit."

"Five minutes you say?" Rev smirked at that.

"How many targets?" Maura pressed.

"At least two thousand and counting," the secretary gulped, "and the excess thermal energy could only have one pathogen."

"Fusion," Maura and Alderi said in unison.

"Link me in to all of our ships."

"Yes Grand Admiral," the woman saluted them and rushed over to another station when the lights in the room dimmed.

Maura did not wait for a thumbs up. "Listen up, this is your Grand Admiral speaking. I suspect we're all a bit anxious for this showdown, some old fashioned good vs. evil, but we aren't fighting pirates anymore." Maura braced for this next part, "Our enemy is none other than Alecto Rian, former Admiral of the Imperial Fleet, turned traitor. Him and his soldiers are nothing more than that—traitors—and they're attacking our home. I'm not talking about no Capitol. This galaxy is ours and no one and no fleet will challenge our supremacy and get away with it. We aren't kids anymore, this is war. So let's die, die like true badasses, settling scores before the gods! And if we are to burn up in fusion, then in fusion we will burn. We will not meet Narn when the day is done! Long live the Emperor! And for the Imperium!"

"For the Imperium!"
"For the Imperium!"
"For the Imperium!"

Rev whistled, "Y'know kiddo, that wasn't too bad of a speech."

"Let's hope it's as good as your fighting," Maura countered which caused Rev to laugh. "But I need to make one more transmission," Maura nodded to the radio worker and the bandwidth was increased.

"If anyone in the true Imperial Fleet can hear us, this is Grand Admiral Maura aboard the HMS Oculos of House Arcdothien. We are on our way, we are coming. We are coming."

---

Maura was right to think it would be no picnic, but it was straight hell. Warping alongside the enemy offered no stop to the imagination as the destruction of days' events was erected before their eyes. Most of the battlefield was a graveyard of parts suspended in time. Skeletons of ships were stuck into and out of each other and still, thousands of lasers were being shot to and from one gray shadow to the bigger black one.

"By the Gods," Alderi muttered, face crushed.

All four hundred fifty ships warped behind the Oculos and wasted no time gawking. They knew what it would like, or had imagined at least.

Over the ships' transmitters, "Turn, turn, turn!" Maura called for her own fleet to immediately open fire.

"Hull integrity is complete percentage, we're totally blindsighting them."

Their advantage was surprise so time was of the essence.

"Front-facing-V-formation! Full blast!" Maura commanded.

Lasers of all shapes are sizes bombarded the Imperial Fleet.

"Focus on their larger ships, keep the fusion weapons down! The fusion weapons need to be down!"

"Deploy all bombers!" Rev raged, "Five fighters on each bomber, focus on their weapons. Listen to your Grand Admiral!"

"Grand Admiral, Hull Integrity 87%"

"They're firing back!"

"Battlecruiser Starlight's weapons are down!"

Maura blocked out the noise like she was in her armor. She stared into the open warfare between her fleet and the caught off guard Imperial one. She earned this moment to smirk a little.

"On our six! On our six!"

Maura fell into reality and spun to find a massive black cloud encompassing them, they hand been flanked, but how?

"All ships, ramming formation. Protect our carriers at all cost!"

"Hull Integrity 80%, they're deploying fighters, hundreds!"

"We lost a carrier! Now a battlecruiser!"

"Blue Squadron has fallen!"

The plume of orange caught her eye as one of Rian's vessels exploded into a ball of fire. A big one.

"Now, all ships converge on the ship behind us, behind us!"

But it was too late and like the explosion she had saw seconds prior was now in front of her face and much, much bigger. An underworldly blast rocked her bones loose of their skin as the entire right side of her army was engulfed in a red beam. It was blinding and scorching and evil. When the beam disappeared, all that was left was empty space.

The bridge fell silent.

"Maura?" Rev whimpered.

"How many?" Maura yelled, "How fucking many?"

"A third of our fleet Grand Admiral."

"Retreat to the planet. Now, retreat to the planet!" Maura blasted her transmitter and slammed it down. She was shaking, shaking, and couldn't stop. Wouldn't stop. What had she done?

Sulla turned his head and as soon as he did the doors were pulverized and Rian’s men poured into the Diet Chambers. It was pandemonium as a storm of lasers rained down upon both sides. He charged into the fray with his warblade drawn, coming immediately into contact with a heavy marine whom he cut down with ease. Several more fell to his blade in quick succession after, seasoned warriors they were, but Sulla was a trained blademaster almost as soon as he came out of his mother’s womb.

His eyes darted across the room and then he saw him. Wearing black armor that repelled incoming laser fire, he walked into the chambers. His target was clear.

“Scum,” he said as he began charging towards him, seeing his blades crack with the Archduke. Two marines blocked his path but he was determined to meet his foe. One of the guards swung their blade down on him as Sulla charged forward but the guard's attack was easily blocked and Sulla in turn acquainted his blade with his internal organs as he thrusted it through his stomach. The marine behind him drove his pike forward, attempting to pierce through Sulla's armor, but Sulla pushed it to the side with his hands and opened his throat with his warblade.

The ceiling came down around him as he gained on Rian and through a cloud of smoke he let out war cry and summoning all of his strength he swung at the Grand Admiral. “TRAITOR,” he screamed in a furious roar. Their blades cracked in one fierce motion as Rian lost his footing and Sulla released a flurry of strikes against him. Rian parried every single one of them before their swords locked.

Rian pushed him back and released an offensive of his own against Sulla repelled adeptly. The men were at a stand still, both expert warriors but Sulla had the upper hand. Rian was an aggressive foe in his fighting style, fighting ferociously and with an instinct that few could match. The fatal flaw was that in the heat of battle, man on man, Rian did not anticipate what his enemy would do next, instead relying on his innate intense training to guide his next move. While Sulla was equally as aggressive as a foe, he was trained to avoid these fallacies in the realm of direct combat; while Alecto Rian was undoubtedly a skilled tactician and strategist, these traits do not always translate into the heat of battle when one's own life is on the line.

Striking at Rian, he intentionally lost his footwork and stumbled back. Rian took the bait. He thrusted forward with such speed and ferocity that any other man would've been impaled. Sulla dodged his blade and bashed his head with his pommel. The Grand Admiral staggered back in shock with blood trickling down his head but was greeted with Sulla’s blade through his rib cage. Sulla pushed him back causing him to trip over a corpse. Once on the ground Sulla pulled his blade out and looked the man in his eyes as blood was gushing out of his wound and gasping for air. Rian's gaze was simultaneously one of surprise, disappoint, and regret; in one foul motion his aspirations for the throne had been vanquished, his battle was lost, it was at an end.

Sulla met his eyes with respect, Rian had lived to fight in war, much like Sulla, and he met his death as any warrior would, in the field. Sulla was satisfied that he was the one ending Rian's life and not some lucky soldier or noble, it was a warrior granting another warrior an admirable death. He nor Sulla could ask for better than that.

Sulla swung down and separated Rian's head from his body. He picked up Rian’s head and let out a final war cry for the whole entire Diet to hear. While his death was respectable, war trophies are always key in combat.

Taer Atlos, The Celestial Throne

Kardin and Legate Zabi entered the throne room unceremoniously, clothes singed and dark with blood, but there was pride in them. "Your Majesty!" Kardin called. "Rian is dead, killed in outer court his Lordship Sulla!" He was followed quickly by Zabi. "My forces are securing the Diet now, and are restoring order to the city." Arnu gave a sigh of relief. "Excellent. Then I think its time to put an end to this nonsense. Kardin, Zabi, stand here on my left. Azuari on my right. Hail all Starfleet vessels in this orbit and beyond!"

"Hear now the Voice of the Emperor." Boomed a herald, signaling to Arnu it was his moment. "Soldiers and Sailors of the Imperium, this is your Emperor, Arnu of House Khor. I speak to you now to tell you that you have been deceived and betrayed. The traitor Rian, through obfuscation and subterfuge would have had you believe your Imperium was rotten, a sickly tree ready to blow over in the wind. But this Imperium is a pillar, the pillar that holds our galaxy. The Imperium has survived this attack from within, and the traitor Rian lies dead. Killed moments ago in combat by the mighty Archduke Sulla. I call upon all remaining belligerents to surrender now, and return to the fold. This is the Order of the Emperor, and those who do not heed it will be met with sever consequences. Long Live the Imperium." "Long Live The Emperor." Cried those in the Throne Room, and the broadcast was finished. Arnu leaned back in the Celestial Throne. "And now we wait."

The Diet Galactica

Time seemed to slow as Sulla's blade hovered above Rian's fallen form, the universe moments from irrevocable change. Oba had heard tales of the skill of the blademasters of house Livia, fast as whirlwinds and more ferocious than a Shango mauler if the stories were to be believed. However, up until now, they had been just that, stories without tangible substance, but here in this moment, Oba had just seen the myth made reality. Sulla had moved like a wild blur, his blade flashing as he cut through the marines like a scythe through wheat, it would have been beautiful if it had not also been so terrifying. Sulla uttered a single word

"Traitor," the arch-duke said his tone filled with righteous hatred

The sword descended and cleaved the arch-traitors head clean from off, Sulla picked up the head and roared a fierce battle cry that boomed as it filled the halls of the Diet. It was done, the greatest threat the imperium had faced in a generation was dead. It wasn't long before the previously ferocious fighting began to die down, the emperor was soon declaring Rian's death on a message transmitting on all frequencies, for the first time since the terrible day had begun Oba felt his strength ebb away. He slumped down against a blast riddled pillar, utterly exhausted, he pulled his helmet-free and let it clatter to the floor its scarred plume singed by stray laser shots.

Oba had fought in countless battles both in the legion and later in his time as Moremi's right hand, this made battle though had made everything that had come before appear little more than a collection of skirmishes. He had begun the day with over 150 men, now he had less than 60 and of that number over half were wounded, the situation in orbit was grimmer still. House Oragbade had given everything it had to defend the Imperium and it had been bled white in the process, whole clans of the free armada had been wiped out and it would likely take generations to recoup the losses in both manpower and equipment. The battle of Taer Atlos may have created a thousand heroes, but it had also made a million widows and the fighting had not even completely died down yet.

"If I live to see 100 years and never see another battle it will not be too soon," Oba said as he rested his head against the pillar

The warrior he had fighting alongside did not answer, Aboye had been manning the heavy autogun during the battle, its death bearing munitions ripping into the ranks of the invaders, the man had been like a stray demon as he fired and laughed. Now though he was silent, Oba stared at his limp form and realized Aboye was leaning heavily on the upturned weapon, a large smoking wound was visible on his back, he had likely died in the last moments of the battle. Oba crawled over to Aboye and gently lowered his corpse from the emplacement, the man's eyes were still open but their normally lively nature had been replaced by an empty expression. Oba shut the man's eyes and then he just sat and stared for what seemed like an eternity.

"So close" he muttered despondently

A moment made all the difference in the universe, seconds for the entire span of reality to be forever altered, Rian had died in one moment and Aboye the next. It was a bitter truth, a few moments longer and Aboye would still be alive, likely laughing and praising the gods for his good fortune, but his moment had passed. Oba mouthed a silent prayer to the gods of the dead and then reached for the man's holo tags, he would need to make arrangements for their return.

"Sir! We won! what are your orders?" an Oragbade guardsman in ash stained white fatigues asked enthusiastically

It didn't feel like a victory, the dead were in the thousands, maybe more and the Imperium had likely lost the better part of its once immense fleets. This was no victory, it felt more like survival.

"Secure the area and attend to our wounded, I'm going to report the news to the Arch-Duchess," he said turning to walk away

He stepped over the corpses of the dead and past the wild cheers of the surviving defenders, out into the cold light of day, he would go from this place of death and see his wife and son, it was all he wanted to do now.

***********************************************************************

Oragbade Estate

The battle for Taer Atlos is all but finished, barring a few stragglers still fighting last stands, but now a new and far more complicated struggle begins. The Great houses have seen off Rian's terrible challenge, but now we will have to reckon with the battered imperium we have fought so hard to save. Starfleet is diminished, the house fleets decimated and I have no doubt that in the coming weeks and months the cracks in our fragile alliances will begin to show. The houses with their endless propensity for intrigue will soon be scheming and forming factions once more and that is to say nothing of the enemies at the imperial periphery. The future promises to be no less uncertain and no less dangerous than what has just passed, still at least we now have a future to contend with.

I rise from my seat and turn to regard my household staff "ready my personal transport and retinue and ensure we have ample medical supplies on hand" I say calmy as a household guard salutes and goes to fulfil my command

"Where are you going mother?" A tired Oranyan asks as he rubs his eyes

The boy has been through too much, I curse my decision to bring him to this place, the scars from Taer Atlos will likely take many years to heal. No fourteen-year-old boy should be forced to consider death and mortality at such an early age, still he is an Oragbade and much is demanded of the son of a great house.

"The battle is over my son, but the city is battered and many people will die without assistance, I am going to go and help in any way I can, I have sat in this bunker too long" i reply in a determined voice, all the while going through a mental checklist

"I'll come with you!" he says rising

"No my son, thank you child but no, where I go is no place for a boy, I want you to wait here for your fathers return, he will want to see you, after all, he has been through"

That seems to pacify the boy, he nods and sits back, I kneel and embrace him tightly "My beloved son, I know things have been hard, but soon we will be beneath the orange glow of Oduduwa once more and there will be no more talk of death and thrones" I say warmly

"I hope so mother, I think I've had my fill of this place" He replies with a knowing smile

I release him and turn to leave, my retinue is assembling by the main door to the bunker, amongst them is my personal physician and several handmaids. I have lingered in this cold tomb far too long, the work of the warriors is just about done, now begins the work of the healer. I will go to the rubble and fire of the city and I will help as many as I can.

Tear Atlos, Imperial Diet throne room

Captain Woods rushed down the corridor and into the throne room, two guardsmen trailing at his back. The room was abuzz with soldiers, aides, and bureaucrats moving about and speaking with one another. It was chaos, comparable to that of a storm but in the eye of the storm sat the Emperor seated on his throne taking messages and giving out orders. Woods and his men after a surprisingly long walk to the throne reached the Emperor and bowed.

"Your Imperial Majesty." He said bowing his head in respect. "I have urgent news for you."

The Emperor turned to face him. "What this news." He asked.

"Your Majesty, Archduke Valin was discovered dead in his office a few minutes ago." He said solemnly. "No cause of death has been decided but I suspect foul play, your majesty." He stared at the ground in shame.

"This is most upsetting, I wish to investigate this further but until a cause of death has been discovered I will put it as a casualty of war." He said his face now dour.

"Yes, your majesty." Woods bowed his head and turned to the man behind him.

"Set up a perimeter around the crime scene, and send a message to Trovan to inform them of the Archduke's demise." The man bowed his head and walked out of the throne room.

Slowly but surely screams became fewer and distant within relativity, which also became the only hallmark for time. The passage of which was bleeding together like the carnage in the streets. Structures started to collapse less regularly and Antica could've sworn the sun started to see through the war-torn sky. Still, it would be years before the atmosphere was any essence of normal. Like the Earth below, it had been splurged with the wrath of the Gods. It was what Antica envisaged Af's realm to resemble or perhaps Narn had come to collect their souls. Nevertheless, it was nothing short of a miracle to say she was alive, though she wouldn't be for long.

A lick of wind caressed her while she sat on the room's terrace. Even from all the way up in the Diet, she felt the war's presence.

"Your highness?" peeped her main lady-in-waiting.

"Yes?" Antica didn't take her eyes off the destruction.

"We have visitors—er, people who want to be our visitors."

[1]: "Are they the ones who killed Frederick, come to seal another contract?"

"No M'lady! I would never—"

"I kid with you," Antica placed her stare on the servant girl, "what's a little company after war? Send them up."

Antica didn't so much as see the servant as she heard her walk away. She looked up into the sky and made a silent prayer that the Arcdothien fleet had found its way into the system and was fighting to protect the planet. That would be a saving grace as any since she didn't have much time left.

Another building collapsed, not a mile away from the Diet. There were no screams to be heard but the building slept on one side like a faulty sandcastle. Leaning, leaning, and leaning until it fell, and disappeared into a cloud of debris.

The elevator chime made Antica pulled her mind back into her body, she got up and walked into the suite beyond the terrace curtains.

All of the servants in the room bowed in her wake and her soldiers moved to either side of her, pulling their laser rifles into their chest. The elevator doors opened and out stepped Admiral Alderi, Captain Rev, and Maura.

"You're here," Antica muttered. "You—you came." She felt a warmness sting her eyes as she looked back toward the terrace as if she could see the Arcdothien ships hovering outside.

Only Alderi spoke, "We did, but we've had a long few days." He promptly added, "Your highness." He gave her a weak attempt at a bow, affirming his claims of weariness. Rev's face remained unchanged and calculating as he scanned every soldier like he could see the weak points in each of their armor pieces.

"So you fought?" Antica replied, looking to her cousin. She offered no response, in fact, her face seemed not there at all.

"We did," Alderi answered, his azure eyes floated from Maura back to Antica, "but no thanks to you."

Antica dropped her hands to her sides, "You have no authority to say that to me."

"Then where were you?" Alderi sneered, "Where on this planet were you?" Antica's guards stepped toward them. Rev growled at them.

"Stop crying and maybe I'll tell you," Antica felt the warmness in her eyes evaporate. She nodded and the guards stepped back from Alderi.

"I have been trying for a week now to get any signal to my—our damned fleet. What is the matter with him," Antica looked to either Rev and Maura, both offered no consultation.

She sighed, "Jayko said you would come, and here you are. I have done my part in calling you here, and I'm sorry I couldn't be there in the fight. If you haven't noticed, leaving the planet has been a little hard lately."

"'A little hard lately,'" Maura cackled, keeping her head down.

"What was that?" Antica looked into Maura's face, which was now flushed with redness.

"I said, 'it's been a little damn hard lately?'" Maura locked eyes with Antica, they were as cold as steel. "You forgot about us, ALL OF US! Meanwhile, thousands in our fleet are dead because of you! BECAUSE OF YOU THERE WON'T BE A FUCKING ALDIKAR TO GO HOME TO!"

She began for Antica but Rev stopped her, his eyes were broken as he looked toward Antica.

"If I don't kill you, you can be sure' one of us will," Maura yelled, "one of us will, you no-good—liar." She spat on Antica's boots.

"Big words for someone that needs their dad to play peacemaker," Antica adorned a wolf's grin, but she didn't feel it. "I am proud of the sacrifice you've made for House Arcdothien though, because of you cousin we might have good standing with the Emperor soon-to-be. Would you like to meet him?"

Maura socked Rev's spline and knocked him off her, then plunged into Antica's face with a swift uppercut. A sudden CRACK, possessed Antica's guards to restrain Maura with a stun, forcing her to her knees. She twisted like a wounded animal.

Antica coughed out blood and smiled through a broken tooth while the taste of iron eroded her political mindset. "You know what? I'm sorry we ever stop talking, you're much too fun cuz."

Just then, the elevator doors opened a second time, and thirteen soldiers in all black armor and helmets stepped out of it. One of them walked through the crowd, glancing at Alderi swearing, Rev clutching his stomach, and Maura on her knees, before settling on Antica.

"But chatting will have to wait, Maura, because I want you to meet your new leader of House Arcdothien, Talon Mal."

---

[2]: Sitting in the suite's waiting room, Maura strolled back through the day's events. From arriving on the planet to getting her men much-needed medical attention to receiving the transmission for the soon-to-be his majesty, to hearing her cousin openly admit to a Talon being the new head of House Arcdothien.

Maura knew her cousin to be many things, but completely out of her mind was not one of them. She wondered if the exhaustion had truly won her over as she played with the new scar on her knuckle.

Rev touched a spot on her exposed back, "Any feeling?"

"Yes."

He rearranged his position on the couch, "Here?"

"No."

"How about here?"

"No."

"And... here?"

"No, forget it, I'll be fine," Maura stood up and put her shirt on while Alderi looked away. "It's only been two hours," she said. In her experiences, Maura needed five-to-six hours to recover from a full stun blast. But she had been hit square in the upper back, making her shoulders a chilling numb. She called them phantom limbs, limbs that were there but weren't.

"Should we just go?" Rev said gruffly.

Alderi shuffled on his feet. He was a nimble man, with a good muscle tone, and rarely was he ever so still, so it was nice to see him moving again, albeit slightly. "No Commander Rev, we need to at least know our new leadership," his tone was ice on the last word.

"Why do you think she called 'em?" Rev turned to Maura with a concerned look.

"Who knows?" Maura replied, absolutely exasperated. Maybe it was just that: shock. Shocked because Maura could not believe Antica giving up her power. It was like the Diet being an actual representation of the people's voice, it just didn't happen. Or hadn't for a long time. "Maybe she's going to kill herself."

"Yeah right," Rev laughed, "I've known Antica for a while—"

"But I'm her cousin," Maura said. "And she voted against Emperor Arnu, no matter what supposed sacrifice we made, others loss more. We haven't unseated any debt for just being there even if we used up one of Rian's fusion blasts."

"I agree with that notion," Alderi said stiffly. He walked over to their corner of the lobby, "But," he breathed, "I think, with all due respect, that Antica couldn't bear the embarrassment for House Arcdothien if she were to kill herself. The Core might as well strip our titles down to Margrave, seeing our gods damned Archduchess kill herself."

"Which they might just do, since Antica voted for the wrong guy," Maura spat.

"That wrong guy killed Rian," Alderi responded softly.

Maura blinked once. Twice. "Sulla?"

"They were chanting 'Blademaster' and 'Titan Slayer' at one point."

Rev breathed through his nose like he was still considering it. "Wish' I got a go at 'em. Rian blew half our fleet into space dust."

Maura grimaced.

"A third Rev," Alderi said, "a third." He turned to Maura and hugged her close. "You did what any of us would do," he said, "and there are still thousands of us alive for it. Because of you," Maura pulled back to see Alderi crying, looking at her like she was the only thing in existence.

"Thank you," Maura managed through her own hot tears.

The door to the room was unlocked and a woman walked in, adorned in white silk. She looked from Alderi to Rev and reeled an inch at his stature. Then she turned to Maura. "She wants you," the servant gulped, "alone."

Maura nodded and told the servant to go away before embracing Rev and Alderi a second time. Then she stepped into the meeting room.

---

The room was dark, save for archaic wax candles in all four corners of the room which cast shadows of those within. The floor was invisible under the thickness of velvet which frosted the room. Both Antica and Talon Mal were on the ground and kneeling on pillows. Maura didn't complete her first step when Antica abruptly turned to face her.

"This is my cousin, Great Talon," Antica gestured in Maura's general direction. "She is the Grand Admiral of our half of the Arcdothien fleet."

The man, still under a mask, slowly turned to look at Maura. Maura barely noticed because she was looking with a death glare in Antica's direction.

Antica sighed, "I didn't mean to offend you cousin. I was simply stating that Talon Mal has a fleet of his own, it's the only way our two families ever settled for being one dominion.

"Until now," Maura exclaimed. She stepped into the room and the smell of incense was alive. "What the hell?"

"Enjoy it, because the coronation for Emperor Arnu won't smell this good." Maura frowned. "I mean, I suspect the smell of death to permeate even the throne room—"

"No, I got it." Maura sat in between them, this time feeling the full weight of Talon Mal's presence. It was hard to judge under his obsidian surface, but from curvature alone, Maura estimated he was buff and a warrior: though she had little knowledge of the exploits of the Talon people since their history was expunged from Arcdothien classrooms a long time ago.

"Moving on," Antica stated, "I am stepping down as Archduke and reprising my role as Governor of Aldikar."

"Why?" Maura said openly.

"Because he is the reason you and half the houses made it to the surface. In light of your communication or lack thereof, I sent for him," she gestured to the armored individual. "He brought two hundred warships and hundreds of more fighters. He's now in control of one of the only standing fleets in this system. Galaxy, maybe. I expect a fun conversation between the Talon and Taer Atlos orbital security in the near future."

Talon Mal shuffled a bit as acknowledge. Maura turned back to Antica, "What does this have to do with me?"

"Save for you being Grand Admiral of two entire fleets now," Antica gave her infamous smirk, "You will be telling Emperor Arnu today while I prepare to go off world." The man in black barely dipped his head to show his acknowledgment.

"Is this some kind of power trip?"

"No," Antica said simply. "And I would tell his majesty too, if I wasn't the damned person who voted against him! Humph," Antica exclaimed. She sucked in air and even in this state of dissaray, Talon Mal made no indication that he cared.

"If it means never having to attend another parliamentary meeting where you're the head, then I'll tell him."

"Thank you, by the gods, thank you," Antica wailed and hugged Maura. Maura knew at that moment she had to have passed out, because she fumbled with what to do with her arms. She was completely and utterly baffled but after a minute she managed to give Antica a light tap on the elbow to tell her she was done with the hug. Antica pulled back and spoke to Maura like the leader of the Talon wasn't in their room: "They're not creatures, the Talon, they're only made out to be that way. Arcdothien culture has long misrepresented them as some sinister people, but they're scarily powerful. Not like merchant fleet powerful, I mean House Livia powerful. You getting to be their new Grand Admiral is my greatest achievement as Archduchess," she leaned into Maura for the next part, "and I'm... I am sorry."

Maura knew she was not just talking about the fleet, or the battle. And, she couldn't save one tear from rolling down her cheek, even if it stung a little. "I'm sorry for the broken tooth—but I know you'll just get a diamond one back on Aldikar."

Antica laughed, her actual normal, light hearted laugh—it kind of sounded like a cackle—"You know I will."

Talon Mal breathed, signaling to Maura that it was time. Antica stood, followed by the Talon leader. Maura couldn't comprehend how anyone didn't feel immediately dwarfed by the Talon, but Antica was a trained politician, so it must've helped to some degree. Antica hovered her right hand above her heart before proceeding to pull something invisible from her chest and pumping it into the air, still enclosed in her first. "I pledge to thee, Mal of the Talon Clan, my undying loyalty and servitude so long as he pledge a timeless oath of loyalty and servitude, to the throne of House Arcdothien."

Talon Mal dipped his helmet and mirrored Antica's motion. His hand now in the air, Antica smiled and dropped hers. The oath was complete.

"Maura, one last thing," Antica spilled as Talon Mal left the chamber, "Alderi and Rev—they're already on their way to the coronation—but also, they're allowed to serve under you in the combined fleet of Aldikar and Magmartar."

"Okay," Maura replied. "Thank you."

Antica nodded, smiling, and moved to let Maura pass. Maura made it all of ten feet to the doorway out of the smokey room when she glanced back at Antica who was staring into the abyss. Maura nodded her head and walked the rest of the way to the elevator, accompanying the Talon Mal, as they flew down the levels, to the coronation.

---

1. Reference of former Archduke Frederick's death approved by GAP
2. The "transmission for the soon-to-be his majesty" to Maura was the transmission everyone was sent in Loz's post
3. Extra clarification, every character in this post is mine

Taer Atlos

From the small round viewport on the rear of the shuttle, Imersa watched the Virammar’s last moments. The fires from the overloading reactors blasting outwards, the hull twisted and broken, spinning away towards it’s end and its final resting place among the stars.

She turned away. She wouldn’t shed tears for her ship. Not in front of the surviving men and women that had served aboard her. There would be time for tears later, if they survived. And if the day proved to be theirs.

The shuttle was not equipped for combat so they made their way from the battle, to the edges of the planets orbit, and waited and watched as the battle progressed. More noble fleets arrived, and Imersa took the time to commit to memory which houses had come to save the imperium. And those that weren’t here, she would remember them too.

They listened to Arnu’s message, and a cheer went up in the crowded crew compartment of their transport. Rian was dead. The Hammerhead was destroyed.

The fighting continued after the Emperor’s call to surrender. But slowly the mighty ships of the Starfleet began to signal their surrender. Soon entire fleets of the Starfleet were halting their weapons, acknowledging the Emperor’s command. The tide began to turn and the gathered nobles started pushing back hard.

A final push by the gathered nobles to crush the last resistance. Imersa wished she was there, the Virammar leading the charge. But they had paid the high price to hold off the Starfleet while the battle was being won elsewhere. Then, at last, the transmission went out. “This is Admiral Garret Lambarge in command of the Imperial Starfleet, all Starfleet ships cease fire and hold positions. We acknowledge the orders of our emperor and will stand down.”

Some ships kept fighting, but soon their numbers were too few. Those that weren’t destroyed were forced to flee. Dozens of Starfleet ships up and vanished into warp. But the bulk of the remaining fleet remained and prepared for their next orders. The battle was over. The transport made its way back towards the wreckage of hundreds upon hundreds of ships. To do their part in searching for any survivors.

---

Faizal winced as Aram Valgurhros cleaned the cut from Rian’s blade. “Well, it will definitely scar.”

“Is that supposed to comfort me?” he asked.

Aram placed a bandage over the cut, and then used an adhesive patch to put it in place. “I’m sure your wife will love the new rugged, battle hardened look.”

Faizal chose not to dignify the remark with a comment. He did consider fun ways to make the security officer pay for his insolence, but decided to let it slide. Aram had been his friend way too long to get upset about an after battle ribbing.

The security officer helped him to his feet. Faizal surveyed the diet chamber, the burnt and blasted remains of the noble seating boxes. Even the High Chancellors settle had been blasted to bits in the commotion.

Rian’s body had been laid out on the floor, and many nobles had gathered to look at it. Some even spat at it in retribution for his betrayal. Faizal didn’t see the head, and decided he didn’t want to know who took it or why.

“Where’s Sulla?” he asked.

“The Archduke took his men and is now hunting down the remnants of Rian’s marine force.”

“I suppose we should help.”

Aram grabbed his arm to stop him. “Let the Livians handle it, Your Grace.”

“Come on now, I just survived one fight. I think I can handle myself.”

“I saw your actions in that fight. I think you should thank the gods for protecting you, and then vow never to get caught up in a scrape like this again.”

“The impotence…” Faizal began.

“It’s my job to protect you, Your Grace. And that means being honest sometimes.”

Faizal opened his mouth to berate the insolent security officer, but his personal communicator chirped, cutting his attention. He pulled it out, and answered.

It was the imperial physician calling from the medical bunker. “Your father is awake, and demands your presence.”

---

Hiram was propped up on his hospital bed. A tray of half eaten food sat next to him. He smiled when he saw his son and motioned for him to come over.

Faizal leaned in and let his father give him a hug. They exchanged some quick words and then Hiram asked about his bandage.

“Courtesy of Alecto Rian,” Faizal said, taking a seat next to the bed.

“You fought him?”

“I crossed blades, but it was a one-sided fight that I lost,” Faizal admitted. “I’d be dead if not for Sulla of Livia.”

His father beamed at the telling, and gave his son a proud pat on the arm. Faizal relayed what had happened since the assassination attempt. He told about how he had chosen to back House Khor, after House Wonju had backed out. He told of the battle, on ground and in space.

“Last I heard the last fighting is over and the Starfleet has surrendered,” he finished.

Hiram nodded, his calm face hiding whatever he was really thinking. But Faizal could see in his eyes that there was worry and doubt.

“I hope my choices as acting Archduke were in keeping with the example you have long set,”

Hiram stirred from thought and gave his son a loving look. “Your actions were remarkable. A father could not be prouder.”

“Father, I felt directionless. I did not know your plan, and had to make tough calls. I wish I had known what you wanted me to do.”

Hiram closed his eyes. “In that regard, I have failed. I should have long ago brought you more into my confidence. It is hard not to see you still as a young man. But you are an adult, and have grown into a fine man.” He opened his eyes and gazed once again at his son. “The truth then. I had no plan. I rarely do. Life is about floundering and worrying, about doubt and regret. But as the head of a great house, decisions must be made and you must make them without hesitation and so confidently that people believe you have all the answers. I have no love for any of the great houses, nor would they have my support for emperor under any other circumstance, but my primary concern is the survival of our house.”

The look on his face had become one of anger, and grim determination. “By rights the Celest Throne should be mine, but had I reached out to take it, that would be the end for Drof-Antier. So I chose not to make a move for the throne just yet.”
“So your support for House Wonju was a sham?”

“I would have supported them onto that chair if needed. My support for them was to strengthen our position. A debt was repaid and now they see us as a possible friend in the Core.”

“And Arnu Khor? What of him as emperor?”

Hiram laughed, a short bitter laugh. “A good man. A good choice. But good men do not last as Emperor. Especially now. There are forces at work seeking to undermine the imperium and push us into conflict and chaos.”

“What are these forces?”

“I do not know. Not yet. But they can remain hidden only so…”

The door to the room chimed, interrupting. Hiram called out for the person to enter. Faizal had never met the woman, but he recognized her. The former consort of the emperor, Alshanah bin Ahrabb strode into the room. She made a respectful bow to both men.

“If you’re here to make sure your position within our house is still secure, you need not have bothered. I keep my word.”

“I know your quality, your grace,” she said. She clenched and unclenched her jaw. Something was obviously bothering her. “I came because we needed to speak. I had to tell you…”

“That you knew of the assassination attempt before it happened,” Hiram finished.

Her eyes went wide. “How did you know?”

“You sought me out at the Diet to speak of something that could have waited. You delayed me getting on that shuttle long enough for the attempt to fail.”

She hid her face. “It almost didn’t.”

“I have no doubt, you did what you could. Do you know who was behind it?”

She shook her head. “I was informed by a trusted contact that it was in motion and so I rushed over to stop you from boarding that shuttle.”

“Might I ask who this contact is?”

“I can’t betray their trust,” she said. Her words got a nod of understanding from Hiram. “But he got the information from the Watchful Brotherhood.”

Faizal, who had been silent for this whole exchange, now coughed out a “What?” in shock. “They can’t be trusted. They’re heretics and assassins…”

Hiram placed his arm on his son's shoulders and stopped his outburst. “There’s more?” he asked Alshanah.

“When Rian came to speak with Shiram before he passed, I recorded the conversation. I told you before I didn’t know what words they had exchanged. That was a lie. I tell you now because I know you’re the only man I can trust.”

She then told them of Shiram’s words, his revelation that he had been poisoned, and his command for Rian to avenge him. “But that’s not all. My contact told me Rian sought out the Cathedral of Aramay and that they informed him who poisoned the Emperor.”

“And who was that?” Faizal asked.

“Me,” Hiram said. “They told Rian it was me.” He turned to his son, giving him a guilty look. “And it’s true, in a roundabout way.”

“Shiram had not been well for a long time,” Alshanah protested. “He had a condition that was destroying his mind.”

“Yes, a condition that I gave him. It’s a disease that was eating away at his brain. He contracted it four decades ago when he and I took a hunting trip on…” Hiram paused. “It doesn’t matter where. But it was my fault. I was being arrogant and a fool, and my cousin contracted the disease saving me. That’s all I’ll say at the moment. It was Shiram, the disease having eaten away his mind and causing him to believe things that aren’t true, that started this whole affair. But the cathedral knew this information, I won’t wonder how, and have used it to manipulate Rian.”

“Was his words true?” Alshanah asked. “That his children had been poisoned and murdered years ago?”

Hiram gave her a strange look, and then a thin smile appeared for a second before vanishing. “No. Shiram never had any children. At least not any legitimate ones.”

“So what of this conspiracy, that someone is manipulating events to destabilize the imperium?” Faizal asked. “If Shiram was going mad was this all a misunderstanding?”

“No,” Hiram said. “Because someone tried to assassinate me and keep me from claiming the throne. And it wasn’t the Cathedral, because they wouldn’t kill me and then tell Rian I was Shiram’s murderer. But also, there’s the matter of the Stellar Fusion Devices. Who told Rian about them? Those were a well kept imperial secret. No, there is definitely someone, or someones, pulling strings.”

He gave his son, and his cousins consort a conspiratorial look. “From this point on, no one else is to know anything about this. Just us three. We will play our parts for now and wait to see what their next move will be. Whatever else happens, House Drof-Antier will survive.”

Epilogue:

Cargo Bay of the Oko, Taer Atlos Orbit

There was an eerie silence in the cargo bay, the din of battle having long since receded, the only sounds left were the clattering of tools and the occasional grumbles of crewmen who would rather be drinking.

"There's enough bulkhead damage to make me wish we had been spaced!" a mechanic with a welding torch grumbled as he busied himself sealing cracks

"Quit your whinging bastard! just think of how drunk we will get when we go planetside!" another sailor replied irritably as he hauled piles of scrap metal to a disposal zone

The conversation abruptly ended as the automatic doors creaked open and captain Bandasi strode in, he was the very picture of relaxed though that might have been more due to the pale leaf in his pipe than any jovial mood. Olo's white linen dashiki was slick with dirt and smoke and his head had been bandaged after a terminal had exploded, he looked like a man who had fought with a tiger and perhaps in a way he had. Olo motioned to the escape pod that was sitting in the centre of the bay, there had been no time to open it during the last minute warp jump or the battle that had followed, Olo wondered if anyone was still alive after all the effort they had taken to pry the thing free from the void.

"let's get this thing open, see if it was worth nearly getting dusted!" Olo said in a commanding tone

The men obeyed and quickly began prying the pod door open with industrial claws, the metal screeched in protest as the crew made headway, one final grunt and the doors both have way a satisfying hiss following. Olo moved toward the entrance his crew flanking him on either side, the interior was dark save for thin strips of blue emergency lighting but they could make out a single figure slumped in the corner of the pod. A sailor brought up a torch and lit up the pod interior, he nearly dropped it when the figure became illuminated.

"Keep it, steady Bastard!" Olo growled but the irritation soon vanished as his pipe fell from his mouth and clattered on the deck

The figure was alone, probably shoved into the pod moments before the Peacemaker broke apart, he was male and his appearance was unmistakable.

"That's Minras Khor!!!!" someone exclaimed in shock "We've saved the emperors son!" someone else cried out in amazement

"Olo....they'll give you a planet for this!"Navigator Jabbu said in a low almost reverent tone

Olo didn't say anything, for a time he just stared at the unconscious prince and attempted in vain to make sense of the seismic shift in his fortunes that was unfolding before his eyes. Eventually, he turned to Jabbu and gave the man a quizzical almost dazed look

"I think....we better open that bottle of red sap..." he said letting the words trail off