Cogoria
TNPer
Verix-Theta-42-761 looked out of the viewing port at the assembly yard, deep in the heart of Cailte space, even now so close to the end of the project, supply ships with components and unrefined ores were arriving in massive convoys. His guest joined him to watch as one colossal vessel shed its mooring lines and moved to take station with the fleet.
"Will work be completed on schedule Portmaster? Or will I have to contend with further delays in carrying out my orders?"
Verix rankled at the insinuation that he had been responsible. how could he complete a project of this scale when the resources had kept getting blown up en-route?
"Now that 43rd Fleet has reclaimed some semblance of order in their sector and deliveries are arriving regularly, we should complete within the allotted time. Why their Admiral bothered to spare the locals is beyond me, he should have simply put in a requisition and had a new workforce decanted. "
His visitor didn't take the bait, merely nodding and acknowledging the delivery date before leaving. Though that wasn't a problem either, conversation was surplus to requirements, all that mattered was that the project would be completed, for too long the Cailte had aimlessly expanded, equally in a rough circle from their origin. Searching, scouring for a clue to aid in the Return, and until recently there had only been vague scraps, inconclusive findings. But now they had a destination, the location of a data vault, left by the ancestors of a recently cleansed species, hinted at in their old tomes, and if the scraps from those tomes could be believed then it might just be the start of the breadcrumb trail the Cailte had been expecting to one day find.
Where this trail would lead through was irrelevant, who the Cailte might need to fight to follow it, inconsequential as follow it they would. Verix mulled this over as a second colossal ship was launced from the yards to join the others. 40 Gate class battle stations were already gathered for the coming crusade, with more under construction in Verix's yards, where most expansions were lead by a linked pair, the coming campaign would be unprecedented in scale, rumour had it that bioplants were being disassembled on some Generation worlds and being installed on converted colony ships to allow new units to be decanted closer to the front lines, a steady supply of meat for the grinder. For the first time in his long 8 years of life did Verix wish he'd been decanted from war stock, instead of a pencil pusher, like all Cailte he yearned for the Return, and wished he could actively take part, instead he had to content himself with preparing the weapons for that those who would fight and die.
On the borders of Cailte space, something odd was happening. There were no more aggrssive probes, no raids or invasions. For the first time in centuries, the Cailte war machine seemed to have stopped. New troop ships didnt arrive, battle fleets were no longer reinforced, and the steady stream of spying probes usually sent in all directions dried up. The troops and fleets began digging in, minefields were sown, defencive battle stations were built, and some of the larger fleets even began to retreat in towards the heart of Cailte space, leaving lighter fleets to hold in place. The only sign of regular activity that continued undisturbed were the supply convoys leaving the conquered worlds with the raw materials to feed the factories deeper inside Cailte space.
"Will work be completed on schedule Portmaster? Or will I have to contend with further delays in carrying out my orders?"
Verix rankled at the insinuation that he had been responsible. how could he complete a project of this scale when the resources had kept getting blown up en-route?
"Now that 43rd Fleet has reclaimed some semblance of order in their sector and deliveries are arriving regularly, we should complete within the allotted time. Why their Admiral bothered to spare the locals is beyond me, he should have simply put in a requisition and had a new workforce decanted. "
His visitor didn't take the bait, merely nodding and acknowledging the delivery date before leaving. Though that wasn't a problem either, conversation was surplus to requirements, all that mattered was that the project would be completed, for too long the Cailte had aimlessly expanded, equally in a rough circle from their origin. Searching, scouring for a clue to aid in the Return, and until recently there had only been vague scraps, inconclusive findings. But now they had a destination, the location of a data vault, left by the ancestors of a recently cleansed species, hinted at in their old tomes, and if the scraps from those tomes could be believed then it might just be the start of the breadcrumb trail the Cailte had been expecting to one day find.
Where this trail would lead through was irrelevant, who the Cailte might need to fight to follow it, inconsequential as follow it they would. Verix mulled this over as a second colossal ship was launced from the yards to join the others. 40 Gate class battle stations were already gathered for the coming crusade, with more under construction in Verix's yards, where most expansions were lead by a linked pair, the coming campaign would be unprecedented in scale, rumour had it that bioplants were being disassembled on some Generation worlds and being installed on converted colony ships to allow new units to be decanted closer to the front lines, a steady supply of meat for the grinder. For the first time in his long 8 years of life did Verix wish he'd been decanted from war stock, instead of a pencil pusher, like all Cailte he yearned for the Return, and wished he could actively take part, instead he had to content himself with preparing the weapons for that those who would fight and die.
On the borders of Cailte space, something odd was happening. There were no more aggrssive probes, no raids or invasions. For the first time in centuries, the Cailte war machine seemed to have stopped. New troop ships didnt arrive, battle fleets were no longer reinforced, and the steady stream of spying probes usually sent in all directions dried up. The troops and fleets began digging in, minefields were sown, defencive battle stations were built, and some of the larger fleets even began to retreat in towards the heart of Cailte space, leaving lighter fleets to hold in place. The only sign of regular activity that continued undisturbed were the supply convoys leaving the conquered worlds with the raw materials to feed the factories deeper inside Cailte space.