Post by Aiman on Jan 22, 2023 14:40:18 GMT
(Version with graphics here: docs.google.com/document/d/1eyROU60Ll8g4DmFf8GwtYhFUzm_4U0svqp5x5d8iVSs/edit)
Piecing together public charts from the Ancnet, travel blogs, crowdsource wikis and information on the system’s defences from their own intelligence efforts, CONA strategists have cobbled together a comprehensive map of the RANGSI planet of Rian-Tabah II, its Lagrange Points and its key facilities.
The system of Rian-Tabah is a primary center of military industry, with much of its operations centered on the system’s only inhabitable planet, Rian-Tabah II. Currently, its military industries have been switched into gear to produce supplies for the 3rd Ancerious War, its new output now destined for the Aedelshaven front.
As a result, Rian-Tabah II is naturally a prime target for a CONA raid in order to disrupt supply flows to RANGSI forces in Aedelshaven. The heavily industrialised planet produces much of the military supplies as well as processed food, water, fuel and other necessities. These are then shipped to L1, which is the primary logistics hub and is home to a vast sprawling network of orbital warehouses, ports, shipyards and a constant stream of cargo freighters to and fro the planet.
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Much-needed Ancerium hyperfuel is also received from L2, where five huge 30km ring-shaped refineries process raw Ancerium into usable hyperfuel. This hyperfuel is then consolidated in a central fuel depot station where they will then be collected by fuel freighters who will then transport them to L1.
The rest of the Lagrange Points are occupied by military installations. L4 and L5 are home to Orbital Defence Platform (ODP) Groups ‘A’ and ‘B’. Both ODP Groups contain a hundred or so various types of mostly unmanned military satellites, armed with all kinds of weaponry from railguns to free-electron lasers and missiles. These are intended to supplement and provide supporting fires at the command of Rian-Tabah II’s local system defence fleet - the 3rd Rian-Tabah. The fleet is stationed at L3, where they operate small regular patrols from a long cigar-shaped military shipyard. Based on current intel on standard RANGSI force structures, a typical system defence fleet such as the 3rd Rian-Tabah would likely have 20 ships, divided into 4 squadrons of 5 each. Public intel suggests that it consists of the 3rd Rian-Tabah HQ Command Squadron, the 441st and 442nd Frigate Squadrons and the 36th Missile Frigate Squadron. Most of the fleet is currently docked, expecting no threats, only undocking a few ships at a time in order to relieve patrols or to mount small-scale SAR operations whenever the occasional civilian freighter runs out of fuel or accidentally shorts their engines in the middle of a supply run.
100,000km from the RANGSI Logistics Station.
Space rippled and shifted as ten glowing circles filled with arcane symbols were projected into space. Lights danced from a point within the rippling space and grew larger as if coming closer to the surface. With an explosion of magical energy and matter not of this plane of existence ten ships emerged. Their grey hulls were accented with yellow, blue, and orange markings. The large sun emblem that adorned their sides told of their allegiance.
The C’ethal Royal Navy strike fleet quickly reformed into battle positions. At the center of the fleet sat the HMWV Queen Delrimo IV, a Vengeance class Battlecruiser. Around her sat two Sorcerer class Destroyers, with the rest of the fleet made up of Castle class Frigates. Circles along their hulls glowed and gravity bent to the will of the ships, pushing them forward towards the station which sat innocently in space.
Rear Admiral Relvar Bentua smiled as she watched the display screen, cargo ships laden with cargo sat in berths awaiting launch approval. Her silver eyes analyzed the first glimpse tactical data. It was almost too easy, but she knew about the defenses of this system, she had prepared for them.
“Send out the signal to the rest of the fleet, the party has begun!” She called out. The coms officer sent the signal and gave a confirmation of receival. Looking over to the Captain of the ship Admiral Bentua gave a toothy grin. “Are you ready for this Captain Tayrul?”
Captain Tayrul bowed and gave her own smile back. Emerald eyes met silver and magical energy burned beneath them.
“I’ve been training and studying for this very day Rear Admiral Bentua, I am ready and willing to give my life for the Kingdom as are my crew.” Bridge crew stood from their posts and bowed. Admiral Bentua’s smile grew ever fiercer as she turned back to the screens before them.
“All ships, eradicate these Colonial scum!” Throwing out an arm she pointed to the station, and the supplies it carried.
“Launch missiles and prep the Lightning guns. Aim for shield generators and communications equipment, we don’t want the enemy alerting the rest before it's too late.” Captain Tayrul ordered. Missile doors slid open and missiles were fired from their launchers. They bucked and weaved through space, keeping their final destination uncertain for defensive fire, but their targets were pre programed into their computers.
The twin Lightning Cannons on the Queen Delrimo IV shifted and extended out of their transport mode. Large crystals of Valkur Ore were loaded into the ‘breach’ of the guns. Magic circles and circuits glowed and pulsed with energy as the crystals were broken down into the pure mana they contained. Magic circuits along the barrels of the guns slowly filled with light as mana filled them. As circuits were completed magic circles appeared around the guns. Several appeared in front of the guns and would act as further accelerators and focusing elements for the beams.
The other ships in the fleet loosed their own missiles and began charging their Mana Bolt Casters. The Destroyers paused in firing their missiles to prep the launch of their complement of Vampire missiles. Setting their tracking circles the mages loaded the specialty missiles. Firing the sleek dart-like missiles their gravity magic drives propelled them ‘invisibly’ into the battle space where they would sit in waiting. To further aid their mission magic circles flashed and a shimmer engulfed the missiles and rendered them invisible. Three each from the volleys fired broke off and headed towards the Defense stations at L4 and L5.
With their letter’s sent Rear Admiral Bentua ordered the coms officer to begin a live broadcast to the planet and station. Standing up she fixed her black and blue uniform and looked to the area the camera would be located. Setting her face into a soft smile, she could feel the skin pull at the large scar that ran down the left side of her face. Red skin turned white and and a black tattoo balanced out the right side. Unlike most of her age and station Admiral Bentua’s horns were natural and unmodified.
“Listen here, Colonial scum, make peace with whatever heathen gods you worship, for we are your doom.” Rear Admiral Bentua threatened. Her soft smile betraying the murderous intent in her eyes.
—
One Light Second from RANGSI SYSDEF Patrol Base
A series of cracks formed in the metaphysical wall of the dimensional barrier between realspace and the meridian, a deep purple colour before they shattered into deep blue windows into the meridian lined with the golden colour associated with ancerium hyperfuel and its properties. From the depths of the dimensional rifts came the whole body of the cerulean-blue kel'thulian fleet, a total of seven ships, three of such being capital-class vessels.
The fleet was led by the Dorsum-Class battlecruiser "Ironclad Gladiator", accompanied by two more Battlecruisers, the "Fervor of Victory" and "Triumph of Quor'os", with an escort of 2 Divination Class Destroyers and 2 more Vanguard Class Escort Frigates. The cerulean ships ejected bright blue plasma from the fusion-torch drives, with the signature eye-like radiators along the front of the vessels shining their bright neon blue colours, railguns rising from their retracted mounts with other weapons popping up as well, missiles uncovered as they begin to prime. The vessels got into formation, the frigates and destroyers ready to cover for the main bulk of firepower, the Battlecruisers.
Fleetmaster Ru'Ta'Ne sat at his command chair with his signature sim-goggles on, pressing at the various simulated displays with his simulation altering gloves as he gave various commands throughout the fleet, watching the battle through displays showing camera feeds popped up around him. There in front of his fleet was the Sysdef Patrol base that was his target, alongside that of the Poleisi fleet that was supposed to arrive soon.
He turned to his helmsman, his mandibles moving and oscilating in his speech.
"Helmsman, are we on course?"
"Yes, Fleetmaster. All vessels are on course."
"Very good." he says, then pressing a button to relay orders across the fleet to the other vessels' shipmasters. "All Vessels, please fire long range weaponry at will."
Within moments, the Kel'thulian fleet opened fires, railgun shells being lobbed at the mass of activity around the station, towards ships, ODPs, and the patrol base itself, while particle accelerators, now loaded with neutrons as they fire at relativistic speeds, sending the irradiated mass of neutrons in a beam towards the enemies. One of the frigates loaded its accelerator with sinarium and targeted the station itself, engaging an assault interdiction on it in an attempt to at least delay communications by hopefully knocking out Faster than Light Communications arrays. Missiles waited alongside plasma weapons for the fleet to get closer.
And that it did, as the fleet begins its move to get closer to the RANGSI elements as weapons awaited to intercept the soon-to-be-incoming counterfire from their foes.
—
RANGSI LAGRANGE POINT 1
1 LIGHT SECOND
It wasn't that noticeable, at first.
A warp in reality appeared , giving off slight gravitic waves, worthy of a checkout but not much else. Then two, then six, eight, growing in intensity and visibility even as the smoothed forms of the C'ethal fleet came in nearby, threatening to out-stage the now-visible enemies with each passing moment. Then, the warps became massive tears, expanding to over thrice their size as a whorling pool of stars and void belched out massive chromoid, glowing forms, soundless yet glaring offenses to reality that disappeared as quickly as they reached their apex.
A Zetyan battlegroup, filled entirely with their magitech ships, now reorganized themselves into a sort of formation. A heavy cruiser sat in the center, acting as their leader, flanked by two assault cruisers and LRM cruisers each. Behind the quintet rested a support cruiser, above went an artillery cruiser, and to the front rested a bombardment cruiser, the finished shape almost reminiscent of a backwards rapier.
Upon the bridge of the heavy cruiser, christened the Th'naes'ka, Captain Ha'tha watched the data and details fill into various screens; a high-resolution feed zoomed into the logistics stations of the enemy, a map showed the contents of the system. A comms feed showed their allies making bold threats, and a display showed their ship in x-ray, a readout for integrity and stability.
His expression was at a neutrality as he motioned for his second-in and a weapons officer.
"Spinal status?"
"Ready and charged on the artillery, assault cruisers. Rest need charging up."
"Noted. I trust everyone down there is clear on the plan?"
"Crystal."
"Peachy." He now spoke to the rest of the bridge crew. "Right, show's starting! Comms, contact our support and tell them to engage EWAR! Inform all ships, weapons free, prioritize communications facilities and anything that can defend! Remember; we are in and then we are out!"
'The plan' was simple, atleast in theory; the C'ethal and the Zetyans were to show up at the designated lagrange point and start a homewrecking process, then move onto the planet's infrastructure. They'd waste the orbital hub that sat above Rian-Tabah the second, anything else applicable, then move onto the quintet of orbital facilities that circled around the planet on loop, the heart of false lifeblood that powered the system's wealth. The military assets would be tied up at the third lagrange by two others for as long as possible, namely the Kel's and one other whose named slipped the mind, before ultimately they would all warp out-or attempt to-before concentrated resistance or the threat of interdiction could stop the operation short.
The ships across the Zetyan fleet soon lit up like a lightshow as they began to fire on whatever they saw fit, though per orders the first blooded would have been any communications they needed offline. Geometric dashing lines snaked their way out of gimballed crystals, coupled with 'missiles' that seemed more as brushstrokes as both went speeding towards whatever the ships saw their fancy, seeking to destroy and disintegrate whatever they could as quickly as they could. The artillery cruiser and the twin assault cruisers, meanwhile, aimed at a different target with themselves-their large spinals belched out a warbling color of noise that were aimed square and true at the largest facilities visible in the logistics hub, whether they be shipyards, warehouses or some other thing that warranted their attention.
The only one to stay silent was the bombardment cruiser, some strange creation built entirely around a great and lengthened spinal cannon. But it seemed that it would not be so for long, as energy readings were beginning to spike, and the ship was beginning to deploy heatsinks and mana radiators.
And lastly, the area around the first group would seem to become muddled and jammed with false signals and useless noise, as the support cruiser engaged it's comprehensive EWAR suite over the Zetyan formation. While courtesy would be to extend said field over their allies as well, the Zetyans were not a courteous folk at heart-perhaps damage reports could change that.
But in either case, the assault had begun, and if lady luck had chosen them today they would be moving to the next as quickly as they had chosen the first.
Well, luck was a fickle mistress, after all.
—
RIAN-TABAH L3 - 1 Light Second out
The starfield flickered and the razor prow of the League quinquereme Tellor's Wind split the black, light flickering across its sails as it decelerated back to sublight speeds. From the captain's chair, Cadis Ascetes surveyed the field of battle as his fleet formed up around him. Praise the Eleven, but the intel had been correct and they'd caught the colonial scum with their pants down and their cocks out.
Further data filtering in had him smirking. "Looks like our Kel'Thulian friends have started without us. Helm, pull the fleet around into a fire pattern. Transmit IFF's and get me targeting locks for the patrol. Navigation, pull the fleet up to advance, biremes to the fore, triremes to the flanks."
Fusion drives burned white-hot as the ships dispersed into the described pattern and then started coming about. Signals were transmitted back and forth with the Kel'Thul, and the forward arc of biremes started firing with gravity-assisted railguns. Meanwhile, the triremes began furling in their sails and manuvering to get good missile firing arcs.
Ascetes smiled again, overseeing the tidal wave of wrath descending on the patrol. Yes, the day had come. First these interlopers, then the rest. The galaxy belonged to the natives and it was time to take it back.
RANGSI L1
Logistics Ports
A second before this moment, Rian-Tabah was a peaceful system, despite exporting the means of war. Nothing much really happened and everyday it was the same comfortable routine for these cargo ships; come in with empty holds, fill them up with supplies and then ship them off to a relay point in some other system, and then come back and do the same thing over again. A flawless supply chain. A cycle that never ends.
Then that second passed. Proximity alarms went off but by the time everyone checked their sensors and manned their optical scopes - it had been too late.
The entire logistics port was washed in flames and explosions all around as the heavy barrage from C’ethal and Zetyan ships continued to slam and splash on their targets of opportunity, with very little to stop them. The sector government of Rian-Tabah had deliberately opted not to secure the logistics ports with an interdiction perimeter so as to allow the cargo ships to FTL in and out immediately, keeping the traffic smooth and at maximum efficiency. Today, that decision would be immensely regretted as more and more ships continued to burn - vapourished by beams of mana, sliced into two by zetyan lasers and more as many tried to undock in panic and tried to flee.
--
Zetyan spinals hit the towering polygonal spires of the port’s orbital warehouses, the shots pummeling through and smashing in large, smouldering holes. Half of the warehouses cracked and tumbled as the sheer kinetic forces ripped them apart from the stations they were attached to, and as they spun around aimlessly in space, streams of hundreds and thousands of miscellaneous crates of all sizes bled out from their gaping wounds, sucked out by the vacuum of space.
Port authorities, or whoever that managed to survive the ordeal, scrambled to raise the alarm to whoever they can. They tried to raise the system defence fleet, but they could not. They tried to raise the planetary command, but they could not. They tried to send a distress signal to outside the system, but then they found out that their long-range FTL comms arrays were ‘missing’ - in other words, destroyed. Their communications had been shot out by the C’ethal and they were being jammed by the Zetyans. All that they could see now on their screens was a female C’ethal admiral in black and blue uniform telling them to make peace with their gods.
----------------------------------------
RANGSI L3
System Defence Patrol Base
The system defence patrol base at L3 was marginally more prepared than their unfortunate civilian counterparts at the L1 Logistics Ports, being a military installation they naturally needed to secure some sort of perimeter, and had a small interdiction zone set up to prevent any unwelcome surprises. Six ODPs and a string of small early warning unmanned satellites maintained a vigilant 24/7 watch.
As soon as they sniffed up FTL signatures from Poleisi and Kel'thulian ships, a few minutes passed with no activity as the CIC tried to identify these seemingly unknown targets but before they could try the SOP of hailing them and getting them to state clearance, the CONA ships opened fire and the patrol base had no longer any need for them to state their intentions of being in Rian-Tabah, for their intentions were all too clear.
Alarms rang across the 40km cigar-shaped shipyard and the 20 ships of 3rd Rian-Tabah System Defence Fleet, but the time between the first enemy shot and their time-to-impact was too short for any meaningful attempt to escape.
Immediately in the first attack, 3 out of 6 ODPs were instantly destroyed with no chance to respond. Kelthulian railgun strikes peppered across the shipyard’s blocks of thick armour, but it was the gravity-assisted railguns of the Poleisi that figuratively broke the camel’s back, smashing through the weakened armour plating and as the round tumbled and twisted within the shipyard’s insides, the sheer kinetic forces caused a considerable portion of the shipyard’s front ‘nose’ to crack and break off completely, exposing its delicate insides of spare ship parts and ammunition storage and factories.
--
The attack also destroyed six docked ships that were totally unprepared to move out, their burning bulkheads turning with a monstrous groan, and the destroyed ships crashing into each other and into some of the relatively thinner ‘appendages’ of the shipyard’s docking bays, causing them to break and wander off into the void. The Kel’s neutron beam attack also irradiated exposed parts of the ships and the patrol base, giving several crewmen radiation poisoning and decreased the overall efficiency of the 3rd Rian-Tabah fleet.
The rest of the ODPs that remained around the patrol’s base perimeter immediately returned fire in order to cover and buy time for the rest of the 3rd Rian-Tabah Fleet to man the ships and undock into combat positions. A missile ODP immediately emptied its whole arsenal in a massive barrage towards both the Poleisi and Kel fleets in a wide cone of fire - not really intending to hit anything but rather as a form of suppression to keep them busy and away from the patrol base. Meanwhile, the two other surviving railgun ODPs each took the largest Poleisi and Kel ship.
---------------------------
RANGSI L4 and L5
ODP Groups A and B
The C’ethal stealthed missile attack worked perfectly, and 3 from each of the ODP groups were instantly destroyed as they hit. Putting two and two together from the sudden attack, and the stream of distorted and cut-off signals from the logistics ports at L1, the ODP group commanders realised that the system was under attack and immediately moved into action. The hundreds of ODP platforms lit up to life as they scattered and moved into combat distances from each other to prevent clustering up too closely to one another, their stationkeeping thrusters and RCSes flaring and ejecting propellent into space. Guns were charged up and long range sensors were activated, searching for targets.
15 minutes later, LIDAR pings came back with scans of unknown contacts at L1. ODP Group ‘A’ elected to take on the C’ethal ships, while ODP Group ‘B’ took on the Zetyans.
With their targets out of effective range for much of their weapons, the ODP groups each fired a small group of 5 anti-ship torpedoes each. The groups were operating akin to strike packages in a wedge formation, the centre one was the command-and-control torpedo - armed with nothing but rather it was equipped with enough sensors and short-range comms to guide other torpedoes to their targets. 2 were standard 500m-long plasma-sheathed anti-ship nuclear missiles for hitting single targets, and each of them was accompanied by a submunition bus filled to the brim with decoys, nuclear ‘flashbangs’ to blind sensors and smaller missiles to suppress the targets.
—-
Khavi Squadron
The route was a well traveled one, by far more than just this patrol. For months now, the Restevian Navy had been working this route as part of the southern naval front, working with RANGSI and their other SAGA allies in the region to secure the flank. The recent declaration of war and the news of the fleets descending on the corridor had only given their work down here even more urgency, though for so damned long, it felt like nothing was happening, nor was going to happen.
Such was the thinking of many of the Restevian crews assigned to the southern naval front. A relatively quiet posting all things considered, with most everyone agreeing that quiet tedium was better than a hail of shells.
That was, at least, until they dropped out of FTL at their assigned resupply point at Rian-Tabah II. Dropping out, the sensor screens lit up a lot more than they should have been, and the klaxon of enemy contacts rang out harshly across the breadth of the fleet.
"Sensors!" Squadron Commander Leonid Muratov barked out, racing onto the bridge of his command. "What the hell is going on?"
The aforementioned sensors operator gawped in shock at his instruments for a moment before the words of his CO registered and he snapped into action. "Ah-- We're reading CONA contacts, sir, and not a small amount of them! They're attacking the logistics units, looks like!"
A damned ambush, and they'd walked right into it. Commander Muratov surveyed the situation for a moment, notating their position behind the enemy fleet. Fortuitous it was that they had come out at their usual FTL exit point, and hadn't opted for an orbital exit! They were outnumbered, but he still had a not inconsiderable force, and if he didn't use it here, they were going to be in real trouble.
"All vessels, come to battle-stations now and prepare for combat. Comms, flash our IFFs to RANGSI so they don't shoot us down," he commanded, heading for his chair as the battle-lighting of the carrier kicked in.
"Make ready to target the closest enemy force, stand by shields and weapons. XO, fleet status?"
It took two minutes for the fleet to come to full combat status, a normally unacceptable delay, though with how quiet things had been, it was an inevitability that things would be slower. The instant the word came down the line though, Muratov was giving the order to launch fighters as the RANGSI ODPs were launching their volleys. Moments after that, the order was given to open fire with spinal artillery on the Zetyan forces. The RSC had arrived late, but they were making up for lost time with a thunderous opening barrage.
Rear Admiral Bentua smiled gleefully as she watched the destruction on the display. Their attack was working perfectly.
“Shift targets, destroy every cargo ship, don’t let a single one escape!” Admiral Bentua ordered. The display shifted as the ship turned to its new targets. A group of cargo ships still docked to the station. A distant thrum echoed through the deck before a screech-like sound followed twin white beams lashing out from the bow. Bolts of magical energy lashed out from the assorted C’ethal ships. Their multi-colored hue streaking across space like fireworks.
More missiles were loosed and the C’ethal ships began moving to go past the station, and to the planet beyond. Most of the supplies were being manufactured on the surface, and the station just made the operation easier for SAGA.
“Captain, how well do you feel those Vampire missiles will work in an atmosphere?” Admiral Bentua asked. Captain Tayrul turned to her superior with a shocked expression but thought for a moment.
“They haven’t been tested in atmosphere, but if they work like spatial quakes then a similar pattern of destruction would follow.” Admiral Bentua nodded and placed a hand under her chin in thought. “All though Admiral, most of the people down there are civilians, I have no qualms about using the Vampires on military targets-”
“Need I remind you Captain, that I am in control of this operation. We are to ensure this planet does not provide any further assistance to SAGA forces.” Leaning forward Admiral Bentua glared accusingly at Tayrul. “You will insure this planet does not provide any further assistance to SAGA, won’t you Captain?” Captain Tayrul bit her lip and turned around.
“Yes Rear Admiral, as you command.” Admiral Bentua leaned back and a small smile graced her face. Pressing a button on her chair she opened a channel to the Zetyan flagship
“Captain Ha’tha, once we’ve destroyed the station we will continue for the planet. Prepare forces to board that Ancerium station so we can take the fuel for ourselves. But remember what we must do if we can not.” Admiral Bentua commanded. Turning to the channel for the Polesi and Kel’thul fleets. “How goes your section of the operation? Do you have the patrol base tied up?”
“Ma’am we have incoming fire from directly behind us. It appears the stations were able to get a few missiles off. It also appears that a small squadron of SAGA ships FTL’d in.” Admiral Bentua grimaced and let off the coms button.
“Launch missiles and have those Vampire’s we launched be on standby. I want to draw them into range.” Admiral Bentua ordered. Missiles were launched and the ships picked up their pace towards the planet. Some of the missiles broke off and began racing towards the incoming torpedos, hoping to intercept them before they reached the C’ethal fleet.
—-
As the Zettish battlegroup pressed their assault, the first things to give retaliation were the Restevians, their many bolts of thunder racing towards them fast as their namesake. Though EWAR made some miss or scrape, and others blasted away by bolts of mana arcing from the chromoid hulls of the Zetyans, the ones that hit made sure to give a true opening statement, as the heavy cruiser tanked a midship's hit, an assault and LRM cruiser each got nicked in their afts and fores, and the artillery ship lost a number of larger crystalline weapons mounts, as a Made-In-SAAPO shell burst open a chunk of hull after piercing through one unfortunate crystal mounting.
Their response was swift, albeit truncated by their moving with the C'ethal in response to their sudden movements. While wounded, they still maneuvered and fired as fast as they had before, breaking from formation to bob and weave as they sent more munitions the way of the Restevians. From the LRM cruisers came a great many missile-like beams, while from the rest came the standard of snaking, glowing bolts of highly charged mana. The only one to fire their spinals was the artillery ship's, which had its own mounted on a horizontal mount almost akin to a casemate. From that ship came a 2-round burst, aimed at the largest of the Restevian ships.
The bombardment cruiser had been silent for a long while, but as the energy buildup within reached critical mass, it soon revealed why it had no other weapons to boot. From it's front came a chorus of tentacle-esque outpourings, heralds to a great many series of beams that arced and danced towards the remainder of what they hadn't killed, technicolor streams that made the ship shudder and ache as it vented excess heat through every orifice. On impact, they did not explode, but instead curved and maneuvered like living creatures, dancing their way through the station as if guiding themselves into whatever so much as moved.
Then, as it fired, the strange ship maneuvered, first upwards, then towards the Restevians, using the recoil from itself to assist an otherwise odious weight into movement. The streams barely avoided nicking the bombardment ship's comrades, but alas; for such a flashy manuever, only one of the streams was sent towards the enemy, and a much smaller/slower one than the others. With it's display done, the thing fell silent, maneuvering now to face the planet as it proceeded with the fleet to the next target.
---
Even when the bridge shuddered from the maneuvering, and through the haze of constant orders and baying klaxons, Ha'tha still couldn't help but grin as the fleet began their counterattack-for all the glitz and glamor that came with Gen-M, they sure as hell delivered on what the advertisements promised. He was pretty sure it took them half the time it would've have taken an non-magic equivalent to act, maybe more.
As he coordinated with his officers, however, one of the cameras caught his eye. The bombardment cruiser transmitted that they were ready, and despite their circumstances what felt like the whole bridge went silent as they watched it 'fire', a horde of angry snakes thrown like confetti to the RANGSI dregs.
"What the fuck?? I thought they just shot normal beams, what the hell are those?" whispered another officer to his ear, as they watched their handiwork start to unfold on the screens above.
"I mean, I guess they technically are bea-what are they doing? Wha-?"
Even as he spoke, the captain was stopped midsentence by the ship, and thus her crew, doing the stupidest, ballsiest maneuver he could ever think of them doing. Whatever ships were in the firing line would lilely have to thank their lucky stars, he figured, as the chromoid cigar of a ship let one last snake out towards the Restevian канюки.
"...loony bastards, koadamn. Okay, listen up!" To his being did his officers gaze in response, torn from the sight by his voice. "We're moving onto the planet now! The other guys can handle the planet, we got the orbital infrastructure! Now, that big fucking testicle in the sky, that's us! We launch as many spinals as we can, and the first thing I need is for you guys to tell those crazy shits on the bombard to get charging back up! Tell EWAR, keep the pressure on, prepare to direct it at those faggots firing on us and whatever the ████ ODPs sent our way! Everyone else, keep moving and don't stop for a second! Clear?!"
"Clear!" "Aye!" "Sir!"
"Good! Get moving!"
---
The last to act was the support cruiser, whose EWAR systems were still running hot. Inside their depths, the crew prepared to transition it to a directed mode, aiming an invisible cone at the Restevians and, as much as they could fit in, the far-off RANGSI torpedo group. For the moment, the EWAR weakened, leaving the Zetyan battlegroup more open than before as they started speeding with the C'ethals towards the planet. And the bombardment cruiser already began building up energy again, though far slower than before-the venting systems truncated it's progress, lest it wreck itself for their own enemies like a misbegotten yes-man.
—-
The Kel'thulian fleet, now being peppered with fire from various missile platforms, the fleet began to light up with point defense fire, plasma being hurled at high speeds to collide with missiles and melt its warhead into an unrecognizable, useless hunk, while the vessels continued their barrage, modifying their focus to wiping out anything capable of combat, notably the various Orbital Defense Platforms, and Docked combat vessels.
On the bridge, the shipmaster began to send out and bark out commands, as the fleet manouvered itself into a three dimensional formation, with the trio of battlecruisers forming a sort of firing-wall angled towards their targets, while frigates and destroyers took formation above and below the main firing line, providing missile defense and support.
"Incoming Railgun shells, mark heading Four Three point Five Five Point Nine!"
The Fleetmaster turned his head to the officer calling out the heading of the incoming RANGSI counterfire towards the Ironclad Gladiator and grimaced as a stray missile shook the ship ever so slightly, doing little damage outside of a scare and some scratches on the paint and outer armour. The real threat however, was rapidly Incoming.
"Bring up shields," he yelled out, "Gravitational!"
Quickly the small gravity-hardpoints across the vessel began to spew out invisible waves, shunting towards the railgun shells incoming to direct them off course.
This mostly worked, but it was too late to stop the nearest shell, which was moving far too fast to be intercepted by tertiary plasma batteries, and crashed into the hull of the vessel, ripping the cerulean metal apart and cracking layers of armour. Thankfully, the shell missed vital systems, and merely punched a hole in the armour, decimating a sub-deck that was quickly closed off.
"Continue Counterfire! Send a destroyer to try and counter that Railgun platform!"
With that, the Divination-class 'See Thine End' breaks off from the formation, and targets its defensive matrix towards the distant Defense platform, shoving itself forwards on full burn, tertiary plasma batteries ready to fire, plasma shielding systems prepared to spray out contained plasma as the magnetic field and gravitational shielding of the vessel run hot, preparing to deflect as many shells as it can, knowing it will come under heavy fire.
—
L3 - Tellor's Wind
The defense boards lit up across the small task force as missiles rained down on the formation. Counterbatteries whined to life, working in tandem with point defense systems that spit rounds at the incoming missiles. Ascetes frowned as he looked over the display. The salvo was thin and too spread out to do anything effective, so why...
The ship shook and the superstructure rang like a bell as the first round ripped through the shields like they were a threadbare sheet. Damage alerts came up, indicating that the railgun shot had ripped a gouge almost half a kilometer long across the Wind's flank. The oar banks along the impact site were gone and casualty reports were coming in quicker than the bridge could process them.
Snapping into action, Ascetes handed out orders, hoping to stay one step ahead of the distant platform. "Pull us around, get me a vector on that ODP! Control, have one of the escorts cover us. Damage, get secondary thrusters working. Somebody signal the Kel'Thul, tell them to keep the platforms off our ass while we finish the patrol!"
A second shot streaked by, missing the turning edge of the quinquereme by mere miles. To the side, a bireme fell back, positioning itself to block the wounded side of the command ship while its brothers pressed the attack. Finally closing the range enough for missiles, salvos began to ripple out from the leading ships as the Poleisi redoubled their fire in an effort to kill the defenders before the ODP's crippled their own fighting capabilities.
RANGSI L3 System Defence Patrol Base
3rd Rian-Tabah SDF
Two weeks. Then it was time to go home. Or so he had been told.
“Gunner!” the call woke the railgun operator from his fading thoughts.
“Gunner, Sabot, uhhh cruiser, front!”
“Identified!”
“Fire!”
The 3rd Rian-Tabah fleet, or more precisely, what survived of it, was now burning full thrust away from the attacking CONA fleet towards the safety of L5, attempting to put more distance between them and the enemy fleets. The Type A frigates were pumping railgun rounds from their rear turrets towards the approaching Poleisi fleet that were trying to hunt them down before they can make their escape.
“There’s too little fire! We need more to cover the fleet’s escape!” a captain from one of the frigates called in the net. His frigate swung around to face the enemy and brought more of its frontal weapons and missiles to bear. His desperate rearguard action was soon joined by another frigate. The two frigates soon charged ahead full speed back towards the patrol base, screaming into a curved arc to strafe the Poleisi fleet with broadside attacks, and draw their attention away from the fleet.
-----
RANGSI L1 Logistics Port (Destroyed)
The torpedo group meant for the Zetyans missed their targets at the very last second, having being deflected by directed Zetyan EWAR. The large nuclear torpedoes crashed into the broken and shattered walls of floating space wrecks and debris, turning large sections of the wreckage into molten slag, harmlessly away from the Zetyan fleet.
Meanwhile, the torpedo group streaking for the C’ethal fleet parried with the missiles sent to intercept them, the command torpedo directing the submunition buses to counter their intervention with nuclear flashbangs, decoys and their own micro-missile submunitions. A string of blinding explosions stretched across the void as the RANGSI torpedoes and C’ethal missiles clashed against one another. In the end, from the smoke, ashes and spacedust, only one nuclear anti-ship torpedo survived the long ordeal, and it headed straight for the nearest C’ethal ship its optics could find.
-----
Planet of Rian-Tabah II
Groundside
<(Frm: PLACOM) You have been mobilised. Units assigned to codewords Green Hotel, Seven Spears and Thunder Flash. Please report to your mobilisation areas immediately. Reply with the last four digits of your NRIC.>
Alarms blared in the distance as entire cities stood still, as if collectively shocked by the news of an actual enemy invasion.
No time was wasted in beginning the evacuation process, with the grim knowledge that the 3rd Rian-Tabah could not save them in time due to the surprise attack, and the planet was thus fully at the mercy of the orbiting enemy ships when they would eventually arrive. Regular Army units and local police forces all over the planet were the first to respond, helping to organise the civilian evacuation to underground shelters.
At the same time, portions of the civilian population were also mobilised as the first reservist units were activated. As per RANGSI defensive ground doctrine, a sizable amount of reservist divisions must be called up within the first 8 hours in order to provide sufficient manpower to relieve the Regular Army units and take over evacuation and protection duties.
Anti-orbital defences were also activated. In larger and more strategic megacities where Rian-Tabah II’s industrial capacity was concentrated, the few handful of towering mass driver cannons swivelled into action, the groans of their massive turret rings echoing throughout the increasingly emptied streets, their silver barrels aiming towards the sky. In more remote rural agricultural regions, mobile ballistic launchers served as the mass drivers’ substitute - shorter in range but more numerous and able to reposition.
—-
The Restevian battlegroup scattered as the Zetyans returned fire, jamming sending up a wall of junk data and false positives as the ships of the fleet divided by ones and twos, thrusters and reaction batteries burning hard to alter course up, down, and every other conceivable direction as the return fire came in, splashing against shields in violent displays of technicolor light and rippling explosions, the fire from the artillery ship rattling the carrier with force enough to knock things loose and two points of course. Point defense followed against the incoming missiles, arcing streams of rapid fire cannon shells and beams of laser light stitching across space in a display from every ship in the fleet that could be called beautiful, if it was not so destructive, a web and wall of defense to shield the ships firing.
Even as the fleet maneuvered and point defense filled the sky with metal, the carrier was launching strikecraft. Fighters by the dozens punched out into space, followed closely by bombers and drones. They were the main striking arm in this first part of the engagement to come, organizing into loose formations and burning hard towards the Zetyan and C'ethal bombardment ships. Nobody in those squadrons was under any illusion they were on anything but a time crunch before they were too late, and so they moved in, fusion warheads armed and cannons cycling flying wide and hard through the clouds of enemy jamming and their own.
The Zetyan EWAR ship did not go unnoticed in this hectic moment by the Restevian Navy, and if one was observing the bridges of the fleet's heavy ships one might thing they were mildly insane, and quite intent on taking it out before it could cripple them.
The cruiser and two destroyers were not performing the corkscrewing evasive maneuvers of their comrades, and instead were all but flying sideways to keep a solid target line on the EWAR vessels. Thruster packs worked to keep the impromptu gun-line on target as they focused fire with their spinals and turreted cannon, firing shell after shell and cycling heat systems to keep them firing as quickly as possible, missiles arcing out from hull launchers to await a solid lock, interspersed by the occasional piercing gold beam of the cruiser's tachyon lances.
The C’ethal fleet moved unabated towards their target. A Frigate at the fleet’s spearhead jerked to the side and magic flared as the RANGSI torpedo struck a defensive barrier. Plasma and exotic particles erupted from the explosion and rolled over the shield. The Magic Circle burst under the onslaught and the energy slammed into the hull. Paint and outer ablative armor was vaporized and turned into subatomic dust under the onslaught.
As quickly as the torpedo hit, it just as quickly disappeared. Righting itself the Frigate continued on its way, black soot covering most of its hull.
“This is Frigate Dauntless, our forward gravity circles have been damaged and so have the FTL circuits. We will have to abandon ship if repairs can not be executed.” The Dauntless’ captain reported. Rear Admiral Benuta sighed but nodded in acceptance. Looking to a side screen she watched the incoming Restevian warships. They had passed into range. A cruel smile graced her face as she input a command and watched as several Vampires came online.
The rudimentary computers of the Vampires locked onto the bright thermal signature of the enemy engines and rushed forward using gravity magic. Mana pooled in the detonation chamber as Valkur ore was broken down and ambient mana was absorbed. The cascading effect creating a build up of pure magical energy.
Captain Tayrul chewed lightly on her index finger as the fleet neared the planet Rian-Tabah. Sensors warned of target locks from surface based orbital defense. Turning to glimpse the Rear Admiral from the corner of her eye, Tayrul knew what was wanted of her.
“Gunner, prepare to launch Vampire Spacial Quake Missiles, target the anti-orbital guns.” The Gunnery officer turned to question her orders, but one look to the Rear Admiral silenced her.
“Arming Vampire Missiles, maximum yield. Target lock on ground based defenses. Firing now.” A deep thwom from within the ship heralded the launch of several of the deadly munitions. They danced and whizzed through space before entering into the planets atmosphere. Mana began to pool and broil within their shells threatening to erupt at any moment.
The ship shook and shuttered as impacts from enemy munitions struck the shields. “Rear guns fire!” Tayrul ordered. Turrets swung and aimed towards the Restevian ships and opened fire. Bolts of mana fired away, the spells being armored piercing high explosive tracking which followed the ship’s every move.
Brank - CONA Fanatic — 07/24/2022 1:32 PM
He had been pushing his crew as the destroyer broke off from the main kel’thulian fleet. They were bringing up weapons systems to try and defend themselves, shields set to hold against incoming fire, and the ship making small, radical, and random movements with it’s RCS as it pushed forwards towards the Orbital Defense Platform.
The Shipmaster of the Destroyer ‘See Thine End’ knew that they would succeed, or so he told himself, as his hand hovered over the button to fire the spinal lance, loaded to the brim with ancerium to drop the platform into the meridian.
All he waited for was the confirmation of being in Range, so he took the initiative.
“Weaponsmaster!”
“Yes, Shipmaster?”
“Are we within range?”
“We are inside absolute minimum range for firing, but the probability of it being a hit is immensely low, recommend waiting ETA Twelve minutes before firing.”
“Stars hope that we die not before then. Keep going forwards and alert me as soon as probability of hit is over the median line.”
“Aye, Sir.”
-----------
“This is Kel’thulian vessels reading Poleisi command, we will do our best to cover you. Standby to watch fire.”
Without a moment’s notice the Kel’thulian fleet sprung into action, thrusters pushing the vessels to an interception course to best defend poleisi vessels from oncoming fire as they also head closer toward the fleeing fleet, putting themselves between ally and enemy while still allowing poleisic vessels breathing room to make cautioned but lessened in volume shots towards the fleeing Singaporean vessels and their rearguard elements. Point-Defense blurted out in bolts of fusion plasma, while the silent waves of gravity kicked up metaphorical dust as they nudged and shoved projectiles off their courses to allied vessels, while the main bulk of kel’thulian weapons continued to hammer down on the opposing vessels, sending thin beams of fusion energy and sharp spikes of plasma-coated metallic hunks all the same.
“Status on spinal weapons?”
“Particle lances online, loaded with standard ammunition, ready to fire second volley, Fleetmaster.”
“Good, get firing solutions on the frigate rearguard and begin shifting vessels with RCS to aim.”
“Yes, Fleetmaster.”
The battlecruisers and remaining destroyers began shifting their bows to aim right at the Frigates that valiantly remained behind to protect their retreating brothers and sisters, while keeping their trajectories the same using the remaining inertia and momentum, a deep charge of white growing inside the spinal weapons of the vessels, as radiation spiked on sensors.
Then the beams fired for the second time in the assault, a set of radiative beams of neutrons dead-set for the RANGSI frigates.
If they are to hit-- may the stars welcome their souls in the afterlife.
—
"Kel'Thul support incoming. Sensors confirm weapons fire outbound."
Ascetes waved a hand and studied the display, stroking his beard. The colonials were cutting and running, which only made sense. The minor complication of course was the possibility of them linking up with the newly arrived SAGA force which had dropped into formation behind the fleet group sacking the orbital yards. The railgun ODP was no doubt going to continue to be an issue as well.
The station still needed to be destroyed, and the RANGSI patrol fleet couldn't be allowed to reinforce their perfidious allies. Grunting, he dropped back into the command chair.
"Tell two of the escorts and one of the triremes to hold back and level the station. Take everything of value, and destroy anything that can't be seized. No prisoners. Signal the rest of the fleet to continue pursuit and give me a missile spread across their rearguard."
---
Thrusters flared hotter than the surface of a star as the Poleisi fleet divided itself according to his orders. The selected ships peeled off while the bulk of the fleet ramped up acceleration to give chase. The enemy broadside carved through the shields on one of the triremes, breaking oars and ruining gun emplacements while it struggled to maintain pursuit speed. On the bridge of the embattled ship, the captain cursed and lashed out at his crew with curses, rallying them to return fire and blast the invading scum back into whatever pit they'd crawled out of.
Missile salvos continued to lash out towards the RANGSI frigates that were desperately attempting a rearguard action, and pinpricks of fire lit up the void as missile defense systems on both sides activated. Nobody was dying without a fight today, it seemed.
---
As their comrades harried the defending fleet, the ships that Ascetes had singled out came about and closed on the now defenseless station. With its teeth broken by the earlier barrage from the Kel'Thul, only a handful of defensive batteries responded, but bolts of plasma and railgun rounds silenced them at will. The escorts forced a docking, blasting through the airlocks before hoplites stormed into the station, free to sack and reave. A bloody day, to repay the endless tides of native blood spilled by the colonials.
—-
One, two, one, two, sung the Restevian assault, shells and missiles punching holes in ships across the fleet and pushing past scores of PD, and great gasps of plasma that reached to their ranks and stole away their numbers in piecemeal. One, two, one, two, came the Zetyan reply, a score of magiplasma lines dashing to their quarry paired with spinal rounds ejected like trash from the fronts of the ships to a destination only they could know. The Zetyan ships maneuvered as best they could through the wave of fire, mirroring the Restevians in their wild gesticulations, but momentum and PD could only get them so far.
The support cruiser in particular took a hit in the direct middle, knocking out a shieldscreen system it had yet to activate, and another impacted in the 'head', causing the EWAR to sputter for a moment as it shuddered like a child in the cold. The rest enjoyed a shower of pecks and holes, the battlecruiser in particular taking one in the aft and one of the assault cruisers taking a direct middle hit, a hole displayed where once was a cityscape of rooms and greebles. Some had moved to cover the EWAR carrier, as a tachyon lance blew open the top midriff of an LRM cruiser and a spinal coupled with a series of missiles outright crippling their brother.
In response to the Restevian chorus, the Zetyans belted out a choir of zig-zag lines, volley after volley dashing towards them as most of the ships maneuvered to fire their spinals, momentum carrying them in the direction of the planet as thrusters burnt to stop the spinal from setting them off course.
The Zetyan offense soon revealed itself as twofold, however, as the artillery, bombardment and one of the LRM cruisers ignored the Restevians, instead turning towards the planet and establishing firing solutions. From the artillery cruiser came a quintet of spinal shots, a centerline gimbal 'turret' sending them to wherever the tightest pockets of orbital defences lay, while the bombardment and LRM cruisers unleashed fire at any orbital infrastructure that was in range, snakes of magic in a ballet with large clusters of magiplasma that almost seemed like atoms. Their eyes were locked on the great hanging bulb of Rian-Tabah, a sphere on a space elevator that served as the gates of heaven to the wayward system.
Them currently being at maximum range would probably make any hits a bit hard-pressed, though.
And lastly, the support cruiser renewed it's EWAR offensive, giving no respite to the Restevians even in it's hampered state. The cone tightened a bit more, upped in frequency--the problem child was escalating things, and fast, and as the other elements of the fleet adjusted to cover it more effectively one could easily conclude something needed to be done, and fast.
System Patrol Base (Boarded)
Many within the system patrol base had already succumbed to radioactive poisoning courtesy of the Kel fleet, or perished to other kinds of wounds from stray shrapnel, oxygen loss, being explosively depressurised into the vacuum of space, etcetera…the list goes on.
A brave few survived and managed to get to their spacesuits and weapons in time, though scattered and unable to regroup with the loss of all and any means of communications throughout the entire length of the base. All they could do within the confines of the patrol base’s collapsing carcass was to hide with weapons at the ready, unsure of where the enemy was to come from. Marines, astronaval provosts, even the usually unarmed crew, now all of them were the same - dead men and women waiting for the inevitable.
Thus when the Poleisi boarders stormed the patrol base, whatever resistance they encountered, be it from small squads, pairs or even solos, was fierce and unrelenting, as they were met with the RANGSI’s final desire to go down guns blazing and take as many as they can down with them. Some even went as far as to strap themselves with grenades when they became grievously wounded and then threw themselves into Poleisi ranks to squeeze every last bit of fighting utility as they could, even from their own corpses. They saw how the enemy took no prisoners at L1, so the only right way to die against a merciless enemy was to die fighting.
But alas, as the Poleisi continued to advance and clear their way deeper into the base, the gunfire and determined screams slowly died down, until eventually there was no one left to fire the guns and scream anymore. The riches of the station was theirs - spare parts, ammunition, weapons, nuclear warheads and even some Ancerium hyperfuel still intact in the surviving depot tanks located throughout the station.
—-----------------------
Near the System Patrol Base
“Hard right!”
The frigate swerved into a tight curve, incoming Kel plasma shots narrowly missing, some even near enough to scorch the outer casing of their fusion thrusters.
A lucky plasma-sheathed spike however smashed into the frontal prow of the frigate. The hull barely held as the spike melted through the particle shielding and layers of composite armour, just stopping at the hull base, but the sheer kinetic force sent it spiralling out of course. More plasma-sheathed spikes soon descended on the spinning frigate like vultures, and soon enough, the frigate became carrion - a corpse that glowed as bright as a thousand suns, as multiple shots penetrated through the warship and cooked off the nuclear munitions within.
--
The other frigate was desperately burning thrust in a curve away from the enemy fleets, all while Poleisi missiles were locking on onto it, and giving chase behind the plumes of its fusion torch. Point defence systems worked overtime as the second rearguard gave everything it had to prolong the fight; everything - minigun barrels were glowing red hot as it continuously pumped out bursts non-stop, and the lenses of the smaller PD lasers were already starting to melt. Decoys, flares, plasma smokescreens and whatever electronic warfare they had was also thrown into the mix.
A lucky missile however slipped past, right at the moment when the fusion torch overheated and stalled, and power was suddenly cut to many systems of the warship. The missiles exploded into the thrusters and the ship was now suddenly not only powerless, but also engineless.
A perfect duck for the Kel ships right behind them.
“Warning: Radiation activity spike. Warning. Radiation activity spike.”
The frigate captain watched in horror at the white beam that was coming straight at the bridge. The camera feed fizzled out, and a second later it was as if an invisible wave of fire rushed throughout the entire frigate, through every hall, through every vent, through every nook and cranny that was. There was no escaping it. In a flash, hair burned away from the skin, and the skin melted away from the bone. In that single second - a single scream in unison, and then silence, as there was no one else left in the frigate except the ashes on the floor and on the walls.
—-
L5
RANGSI ODP Group ‘B’
“Orion Bravo! This is the 3rd Rian-Tabah coming in hot! Friendly! Friendly!” a frantic radio transmission garbled through the station comms as the entire system was being assaulted by the CONA electronic warfare.
“Roger, 3rd RT we see you, comms are spotty at the moment due to enemy EWAR. Laserline the location of the enemy and we will handle the rest.”
“One sec Orion Bravo…”
“There! Our LIDAR’s got them! Give them hell Orion Bravo!”
“Roger, laserline received, working off your LIDAR feed now. Bravo 1-2, Bravo 1-2, guns on these coordinates grid Eight-Two-Zero…”
ODP group ‘B’, previously blind from having no eyes in the sudden enemy invasion, now finally has obtained targets through the 3rd Rian-Tabah fleet’s sensors. Spinal-sized railgun stations swung into position, taking aim at the Kel fleet, and began firing a mixed volley of plasma-sheathed sabot shells and fragmentation AOE shells that, when detonated, sent several small EFPs in a wide spherical radius.
—---------
Planet of Rian-Tabah II
Groundside
“Incoming!”
Alarms blared all across the city as lances of fire streaked through the sky, with every passing second appearing larger and larger as it breached the atmosphere and descended into the planet below.
When they hit the orbital guns, the results were instant and catastrophic. The larger towering mass drivers were immediately smashed, and millions of large pieces went shooting up into the sky as the large munitions within cooked off, causing a chain reaction. The burning pieces, like small meteors, immediately descended back onto the ground, pummeling craters into roads, highways and even smashing into buildings. Then a secondary wave of Mana-fuelled shockwaves erupted from where they hit, cracking and buckling the ground. Smaller towns near the ground zeroes simply vanished into the ground, while large sections of the nearby megacities collapsed.
----
As the C’ethals and Zetyans unleashed their relentless orbital bombardment, half of all the planet’s available anti-orbital guns were destroyed and the orbit above the planet was now effectively a graveyard, the entire planet was now shrouded by a belt of floating space wreck and debris from the destroyed stations. The orbital elevator collapsed and dropped back onto the planet, wrapping around the equator with devastating results.
“Continue firing! Continue firing! The enemy will not step foot on our homeland! Our families count on us!”
The remaining anti-orbital mass drivers were now working twice as hard as desperation drove the planetside defenders to now shoot twice as fast, sending a volley of giant shells towards the C’ethal and Zetyan fleets.
While streams of patriotic messages blared through the comms of the anti-orbital guns and the streets trying to keep morale up in the midst of all the terrible destruction all around, the planetary command sent a more sombre message to the Restevian forces through old AGA channels.
“Situation critical. Recommend deploying a small detachment to ODP Group ‘A’. Link up and deliver targeting solutions,” the short message read, a testament to the difficulties posed by Zetyan EWAR jamming several comm channels and the immense stresses faced by the planetary command right now
—
"Affirmative, affirmative, sending reinforcements to ODP A now, stand by comrades." came the response from the Restevian group, a moment passing in the hell of battle before two destroyers and four of the fleet's frigates broke off from the main group and went to full burn towards ODP group A, transmitting openly over AGA channels their approach and what target information they could in so brief a time as they had been moving. They would transmit more as they moved, and they would be moving to reinforce them as fast as their engines could carry them. This, left the rest of the fleet to handle the enemy before them.
"Keep up your fire, comrades! Focus your fire, keep shields cycling, report your damages as you go- For RANGSI, and Restevia!"
Group Commander Muratov bellowed across command channels, shields flickering like rippling water and point defense roaring on and on. Damage was beginning to mount and beginning to show with several ships such as the destroyers flanking the cruiser reporting major hull breaches, loss of engine power, atmosphere and weapons being damaged to the point of damage control teams working as they fired, and multiple burnthroughs had been called to cut through the Zetyan EWAR, the decision being made and shared among GCOM that that Zetyan ship had to go. Focusing fire onto the support cruiser, hammering upon it with dozens of fusion missiles and volleys of railgun fire large and small from turrets to spinal mounts and everything they could fire, gun barrels venting heat in clouds of vapor into the void. Around the fleets of both sides, Restevian fighters, interceptors and bombers played their own game and danced their own dance, a number of them lost to the point defense of the C'ethal, though those remaining kept up the assault, hammering at their vampiric foes with missile and cannon. Even if theirs was only to be a distraction, then a distraction they would be until the fleet could turn their wrath upon them.
The Restevian focus was the straw that broke the camel's back-or, rather, tore the support cruiser's midsection in half, as an unending torrent of firepower from every end of the spectrum soon ensured it's end. The bloom of fusion missiles upon it's surface combined with a revolver volley of spinals was what finally did it in, turning it's front section into a field of debris and leaving the back to flail like a headless chicken, that accursed cone of EWAR that surrounded them gone for good.
The rest were not so kindly sought, even with the martyring of the support cruiser. The volleys the RANGSI AODPs sent their way held many shells in their ranks, and some found purchase in the hulls and organs of the zetyan fleet. In particular, a stray shell hit the artillery cruiser in a sweet spot, the rotating spinal stuttering in movement as it ground against errant pieces of hull, and the bombardment cruiser took some glancing hits in the rear. And the battlecruiser had it the best of all, as a few rounds tore into it's midriff, knocking some turrets offline and causing the thrust cones to flicker just a little.
The rest of the Zetyan ships were quick to move in the face of the sudden loss, shifting their attention to the next objective as their thrusters moved to full burn, and afterburners on their rears switched on, chemical waste intermixing with their trails of white, green and red. The shift of focus to the support cruiser gave them precious time to make their move, as their fleet began to move to their final objective-the collection of ancerium colliders that hung lazily in periapsis, even as their lifeblood fled in escape craft from every which way.
They gave little in way of offense, now, even to the Restevians; to the planet was sent a few zig-zag patterns of mana, aimed at the remaining pockets of resistance not yet glassed, and the Restevians now only received those same zig-zags in volleys instead of a steady stream, the rest of their lifeblood devoted to pure movement as they rocketed to the final destination. A communique was sent to the Ce'thal, urgent and hurried.
"Battlegroup A41 to Delrimo, Delrimo, we are pushing to the final objective! We urge you to do the same, time is running out and the enemy is losing momentum on all fronts!"
Brank - CONA Fanatic — 09/07/2022 1:09 PM
Kel'thulian Fleet
The sudden strikes of the Orion-Bravo were unexpected to put it lightly. Totally unpreprared, hasty waves of gravity were pumped out of kel'thulian ships, shoving away some projectiles on missing flight paths, while plasma shields did nothing to stop the ones that got through, spearing through vessels like bullet into flesh as they left gaping holes into some of the larger ships. The Fragmentation shells were ineffective to defend against, shredding armour, but blocked by defensive sprays and walls of plasma. Despite this, Kel'thulian vessels kept up their push, shoving thrusters harder than they should be pushed in an attempt to decimate the rearlines of the Retreating RANGSI fleet, wall of sheathed railgun shells and streams of singing, burning ionized plasma; accompanied by plasma missiles and fusion torpedoes, continued to pour out of the fleet.
On the bridge of the Ironclad Gladiator, Rutane was angry, annoyed.
"What is the status of the 'See Thine End'?! We need that ODP destroyed before we get pinched between a stone and a wall!"
Responding was the Shipmaster of the STE, over communications systems.
"We're almost in firing range, preparing lance posthaste."
"Good. Hurry up." was the only response the Fleetmaster gave, before cutting communications.
See Thine End
"Lance status?" said the Shipmaster, annoyed at the anger from his superiors.
"Ready to fire, and in range. Orders?"
"Open a portal near that ODP, drag it down into the depths of a Meridian hell, and get us OUT OF HERE!" he replied, screaming by the end as he turned away.
The weaponsmaster slunk away and relayed his enraged orders.
From the bowels of the vessel a golden light began to shine as Ancerium was ionized, split apart and zipping around in particulate as it was shoved into the accelerator. Procedures went well, and the golden, blinding light was expelled violently from the front of the destroyer, sending a beam of yellow-gold ancerium flying at relativistic speeds, just beside the ODP.
When it hits it's target of the invisible dimensional wall, just beside the hulking structure, it would shatter a portal into the Meridian and suck the platform inside.
Only time would tell if the plan would work.
LeftHandofGod — 09/12/2022 10:20 AM
In the command seat, Ascetes idly turned a credit chip in his hand while staring at the displays. Then he flipped it over and sneered at the symbol embossed on it before putting it away in his pocket. Fucking colonial bastards. Didn't matter what they called themselves, they were all the same, greedy and cold, with hearts made of credits and steel. He'd once had a commanding officer who called all colonials "the enemy". When he'd asked her why, she'd given him an answer that still resonated in his mind to this day.
"Because it doesn't matter what flag they fly, or what colors they paint on their war machines. They're here to steal our worlds and lay claim to our stars. That makes them the enemy, no?"
A sudden round of alerts and shouts brought his attention around. The sensor officer pinged an alert across the fleet. "Incoming missile contacts! Ten light-minutes and closing! Running pathing for possible targets now."
The comms station also lit up with reports of weapons fire from the ODP's. Ascetes grunted, eyeing the plotted courses. The enemy had chosen to attempt to hammer the Kel'Thul while they fled, but the gap was slowly closing and the colonials were bleeding ships with every passing hour. Those ODP's would be the end of them though, once the final clash above Rian-Tabah began. Already, inter-fleet communications were reporting increasing losses due to reinforcements in the form of the Restevians.
"Comms, get me a channel to the Gladiator. We're not going to win this by playing into the enemy's hands." A moment later, the comms officer gave him a thumbs up and he cleared his throat before laying out his proposal.
"The barrage platform groups need to die, but we cannot abandon the pursuit, lest this group link up with the reinforcements and lay waste to our brothers in arms. Once they're dead, I suggest we split our forces and eliminate a group apiece, before converging on the planet to finish the fight. Please confirm or deny."
Disconnecting the communiqué, he pulled up another screen. "Nav, signal all points. Continue the pursuit. Any word from the station?"
"We have a confirmed capture, sir. No enemy prisoners, but troop casualties were fairly high."
A sigh. "A bloody dawn. Let us but pray to the Eleven that it ends in victory."
---
Across the star system, and headed for an arc over the primary, the chase continued, railgun and missile fire ripping outwards. At the station, the hoplites loaded everything they could and laid down detonation charges before boarding their ships and setting course for the planet as blossoming explosions gutted the patrol station behind them.
Crim (Andracken/Zens/C’ethal) — 09/19/2022 5:46 AM
Rear Admiral Bentua watched in joy as the Vampires struck their marks. Meanwhile the crew watched in abject horror. Some prayed to the Goddess Sali to watch over the countless dead. Captain Tayrul’s lip quivered in anger as she made to order another salvo of missiles be fired.
“Begin bombarding the surface with cannon fire.” The saccharine tone of the Rear Admiral overpowered the depressing atmosphere of the bridge. “I want flame bolts to strike their fields, burn them to the ground.” Captain Tayrul relayed the order and the gunners began charging the guns as needed.
“Ma’am, there are still defensive cannons firing at us. It also appears the Restevian warships are continuing their assault.” An eyebrow raised in curiosity and another signature smile washed across the Admiral’s face.
“Send a squadron to deal with the Restavians, the rest deal with the Colonial Ants on the surface.” At Her orders a Destroyer broke away from the fleet followed by three Frigates. The ships turned 180 degrees and faced the incoming Restevian ships.
------------
“This is Captain Fetrana Jiulnet of the C’ethal Royal Navy. In the name of His Majesty King Regiaz Valthul we will destroy you!” Fetrana declared. Her Destroyer launched forward and opened fire with bolts of magical energy. Anti-Ship missiles flew out in a flurry of exhaust plumes that danced and weaved through space towards their targets. Hot on Captain Jiulnet’s tail, the three Frigates joined in with their own mana fire and missiles.
Defensive magic circles glowed along the ship as rounds were slowed before reaching the hull and impacting into the ships. Fire engulfed one Frigate as a missile was detonated by point defense. The ships soon emerged from the fireball with smoke collecting along its hull.
------------
Red bolts of mana were loosed from the HMMV Queen Delrimo IV and they raced for the wide open fields of grain and produce. As the guns fired the battlecruiser turned it’s bow to aim to a section of ground based Orbital Defense battery. Focusing circles appeared before the Lighting Cannons as circuits glowed along the guns. Pricing white beams leapt out at relativistic speeds to remove the offending instillation from the surface.
A dark from the surface was intercepted by the Battlecruisers defensive magic. The massive dart kept going as the round left the effects of the magic. Captain Tayrul stumbled and reached out to a guard rail as the mighty ship shook.
“What the fuck just happened!” She barked. Damage alarms blared and panicked voices filled the bridge. On the main display a camera feed was aimed to the hull from a winglet camera. A hole in the hull glowed with red hot metal and ceramics as atmosphere and crew were vented into space.
“Anti-Orbital cannon struck us, it was moving with greater velocity than we could sustain after Lightning Cannon fire!” The Damage Control Officer rattled off. A new camera feed showed the offending gun in question. Smoke and dust billowed out around it from the shock wave of the massive cannon firing.
“Target that gun and fire nuclear Anti-Ships!” Captain Tayrul ordered. Eight missiles were launched and they screamed forward towards the Anti-Orbital Gun. The remaining C’ethal ships began firing at their own discretion, targeting more Anti-Orbital batteries. They would need to silence them permanently if they wanted to complete their mission.
—
Lagrange Point Five - RANGSI ODP Group Bravo
"Orion Bravo, This is Third RT. We're regrouping and preparing to launch an assault against the CONA forces in orbit of Rian-Tabah. Do you think you can cover us until then?"
"Roger that, 3RT. We'll keep lead downrange, while you pick yourselves up. Make sure to-"
The radio transmission was suddenly cut, replaced with a soft static. Reports coming in from other ODP platforms confirmed what the Fleet had all seen with their own eyes. Moving at relativistic speeds, a golden beam pierced the platform, sending shards of metal and bodies flying into the vacuum of space, while the hole drilled even deeper into the weapons platform.
The Carnage didn't intend to stop there.
With a blinding flash of radiation and light, the entire station began to collapse into itself, the very superstructure of the building being pulled into a massive gaping blueish-purple tear in the very fabric of space time, outlined by the glimmering gold of the beam that had stopped boring into the platform. The small shards of armour, flooring, and the frozen corpses of dead servicemen were sucked backwards from their outwards trajectories, consumed by the hungering maw of the unforgiving meridian. In the span of less than a minute, the entire station had disappeared, and the meridian-tear collapsed in on itself, no trace of the devastation left behind.
"By the grace of Allah, His Prophet, and His Messiah Jesus Christ..."
KNS See Thine End
"By the stars..."
"Shipmaster, the lance directly hit the station due to a targeting error. It seems it was still effective, though. It pierced the station and ripped it apart from the inside-"
CRASH!
The ship rumbled as klaxons blared loudly across the bridge, the lights a somber blue colour flashing with bursts of dim purples. The shipmaster grasped his chair tightly.
"What was that!?"
"The platform had slung some fire our way before it died, Shipmaster! One struck our right flank, and we're off course, trying to re-orient. More projectiles are on course...."
"...And?" questioned the Shipmaster, noting the concern in the subordinate's voice. A pang of fear struck his gut.
"Chance of evasion are necti'pav'nif. Null point Nine."
"Stars..."
"They wont save us now."
More crashes rumbled through the superstructure of the destroyer, shells crashing through the metal like a hot knife through a pond of water, crashing through lines carrying plasma through the ship and searing the vessel's interiors. The ship had finally begun to re-orient itself and bring countermeasures online, until it was all struck down by a single shell- the final one that had been sent out by the now-dead platform. The bolt hit dead-on the nose of the kel'thulian ship, ripping apart the barrel of the particle accelerator, then tearing a massive hole down the spine of the craft- passing through the Bridge, CIC, Mess hall, Reactor Core, and Engine room all in one sweep. In a blinding flash, the fusion reactor detonated from the damage, radiation cooking any of the crew not killed by the hard vacuum, raging fires, or the slugging of the railgun shells.
The corpse of the 'See Thine End' floated through space, drifting alone and broken, for what could very well be all of eternity.
Kel'thulian Fleet
"Fleetmaster, the 'See Thine End' completed its objective, but was subsequently cored by ODP slugs."
"Then their deaths may not be in vain. Signal the Poleisi and prepare for a jump on Lagrange Five.”
“Understood, fleetmaster, signaling for meridian tears to be opened now, and calling the poleisic fleet.”
---
>>TRANSMISSION LINE CONNECTED<<
>>RECIPIENT - POLEISIC CMND VESSEL<<
“Poleisic Fleet, this is the Kel’thulian Combat fleet. We are preparing to make a jump on Lagrange point five, and are requesting you do the same. Our goal is to eliminate the ODP platforms and surviving Rangkasan ships before they can become an issue for our allies across the well.”
“Kel’thulians, the Poleisi hear you. We will send vessels to assist you, but our command vessel and a few ships will remain to clear the station of… valuables.”
“Could the vanity not hold until our fight is over? We came here for war, not for prizes.”
“I have spoken, bother me no more.”
>>TRANSMISSION LINE DISCONNECTED BY RECIEVER<<
---
“Such arrogant kas’ika. Labridae, are Meridian tears complete? And get me a damage report.”
“A-Aye fleetmaster.”
The Labridae popped info over to the Fleetmaster’s display, and began to talk through radio, still strapped in for the combat sequence and jump preparations.
“Latchkeys all prepared, and thrusters across the fleet are firing. TTJ One Minute. Fleet has taken extensive hits, but only one frigate has been knocked out of the fight. We’re still up and running, and prepared to fight. About three fourths of the poleisi are preparing to jump as well, although their largest vessels are staying behind.”
Sigh… “Alright, thank you. Stars be with us.”
“Aye, Stars be With us all.”
Gold flashed again in the night sky, narrow beams of ionized ancerium crashing into a nonexistent wall as blue-purple portals into the meridian framed by frizzy gold cracked open. The kel’thulian fleet disappeared into the space, and the portals closed behind them.
Shortly after, the poleisi triremes and biremes flashed out, tachyons pushing their sails forth as they accelerated towards the lagrange point.
Lagrange Point Five - RANGSI ODP Group Bravo
“Where did they jump to?!” called out someone over the open radio frequency, followed by some panicked talking.
“Quiet! FTL Sensors show the Poleisi are headed right towards us on tachyon streams, and are going to arrive really damn soon! Cant track the kel’thulians in the Meridian quick enough to matter. Just have your weapons ready, while we make sure our brothers and sisters can regroup and escape safely!”
The radio chatter died down, and a sense of vigor crossed through the RANGSI servicemen across the remaining platforms. Some were terrified- rightly so- but they knew their duties. Protect the Third Fleet.
Any sense of doubt was washed out of their minds as the Poleisic vessels arrived first, flashing in the dark night as they came to a stop. Immediately they began to manouver and go weapons-hot, and the platforms offered up return fire, like a wave of their very spirits crashing into Poleisic ships. In an instant, a Bireme was cut in twixt by a railgun slug, sending it’s halves careening into a trireme and crushing part of its hull- although it remained in function.
Nought but thirty seconds later, the portals flashed, and the Cerulean forms of the kel’thulian vessels slipped out, offering the same instant return fire.
The issue was, they had jumped around the firing line the platforms had set, and had appeared at the flank of the regrouping Third Fleet. With not even a twinge of mercy, their guns began unleashing a wave of all manners of destruction into the unprepared vessels, just as their formation had just begun to take shape.
“NO! Turn these platforms around, NOW!”
It was too late, though, for many soldiers and sailors. A line of frigates experienced an all-too-similar fate as a particle beam crashed through them all, eviscerating electronics and irradiating the crew. For the first two of the five frigates afflicted, they were lucky enough to take the brunt of the blast, being vaporized instantly. The third and fourth suffered slow, horrid burns that melted them down to the bone, and the fifth took severe, lethal doses of burning radiation, but were relegated to the fate of dying in agony over the course of an hour, blood already beginning to well up in lungs and pour out of ears as blood vessels burst.
Countless waves of hot, searing plasma came pouring out of the Kel’thulian vessels, in the form of fusion bolts, beams, and long waves of ionized plasma sent streaming out of the wide apertures of plasma railguns. The paint and sensors systems of various Rangkasan vessels was singed off down to the stock metal underneath, leaving them bare and prideless, blind without their sensors and vulnerable without their point-defense cannons. With this, sheathed spears of tungsten took an opportunity, and lanced through the hulls of destroyers, frigates, and cruisers alike, taking out bridges, reactors, weapons-control-rooms, and all manner of important internal systems.
Multiple series of blinding flashes sounded out every few moments in the monumental battle taking place at Lagrange point five. A poleisic ship vaporized by a railgun slug, a Rangsi vessel melted by another particle lance, it’s reactor going critical and detonating as a slug pierced it’s heart. A kel’thulian vessel gutted by the shrapnel of a missile, it’s reactor too criticalizing and turning the crew into molten puddles of lifeless bones and cartilage.
If one were to listen to the open comms channels, all they would hear would be screams, cries, and prayers- calls for help that would never come. The CONA assault was without pause, without mercy, and filled with a fiery rage that no god could hope to match. One by one, little red blips on sim-displays and radars went dark, as more proud souls were damned.
Like a hush in a forest, the world fell silent. The Deed was done; the door was shut; the colonials were all dead, or their ships disabled and waiting to be discovered and gutted by another streak of plasma, praying silently in control rooms or the turrets of dysfunctional weapons. All of the Rangkasan ODP platforms were destroyed or disabled, wreckages stringing around in a long orbit around the star of Rian-Tabah, mixed in with the burning wreckages and empty husks of ships, both CONA and SAGA alike.
It was a bloodbath on both ends. The Poleisic fleet had been reduced to utter dust by the ODP platforms, having made the unfounded decision to appear right in front of them. Triremes spun out in phantom trajectories that would lead them to nowhere, and the mottled pieces of ravaged Biremes crashed into other stellar clutter that had disgased Rian-Tabah’s outer orbit.
The Kelthulians would have been hit almost equally as hard, although with their more strategic positioning, and the poleisi serving as a grim distraction to the ODPs at first, the Kelthulians got off with a few ships still limping about. The Ironclad Gladiator was reduced to slag, the fleetmaster and all his crew marked K.I.A, and his ship unsalvageable. Countless destroyers and frigates had been sent careening towards the star at the center of the system, while others had floated gently towards the orbiting debris, joining in with the symphony of dead metal and hidden bodies. By the end of it all, only a single battlecruiser, a handful of destroyers, and seven frigates had survived the battle.
>>TRANSMISSION LINE CONNECTED<<
>>RECIPIENT - C’ETHAL-ZETYAN FORCES<<
“This is shipmaster Vo’ro’no, of the KNS Fervor of victory… The RANGSI forces gathering at Lagrange Five have been turned to slag. We cannot fight anymore, Sisters and Brothers. Our fleet has been reduced to nothing but a token force, and our shipmen are wracked with grief. We have utterly eliminated a strategic objective that was hindering you.”
She sighed, and held back a cry of sorrow.
“May the Stars Bless you.”
>>TRANSMISSION LINE DISCONNECTED BY SENDER<<
In the aftermath, The Survivors wept.
Somewhere Between Rian-Tabah and L2
The scene was apocalyptic. The entire system, where there was once buzzing with life, was now a graveyard - the indiscriminate CONA attack leaving both civilian and military carcasses of ships floating adrift in the solar wind, carried and animated only by the system's gravitational currents. The planet of Rian-Tabah too was an inch away from its ultimately doomed fate - its factory-cities and industrial bio-domes that had been the beacon of the system's industrial output, was now all being flattened into nothing but molten glass by the relentless C'ethal and Zetyan bombardment above.
It could be concluded that the destruction of the system's sole military fleet, the 3rd Rian-Tabah System Defence Force, by the Kelthulian charge at L5 would mean that the system was utterly defenceless - all its warships gone, zero, nada. But this was not actually the case, for the next 30 minutes or so at least.
A total of 20 military contacts would show up on the remaining CONA fleet sensors. It was a miracle at this point - these were scattered individual frigates or even smaller corvettes pooled together by ad-hoc crews, united by one common purpose; to go out in one last final huzzah for the Republik against these vile invaders.
They appeared from all sorts of places. Some managed to blast-off from groundside mass drivers at the very minute before they were destroyed, some were mothballed previous generation frigates salvaged from breaking yards near L2 and others were drawn from various private security and system guard outfits. They barely had any weapons other than a couple of railguns, missiles and small basic lasers. Some were not even properly armoured at all.
The ad-hoc last stand RANGSI fleet grouped up at a midpoint in between Rian-Tabah and L2 and then immediately split off into two equal groups of 10 ships each, one group curving around in an attempt to flank the C'ethal, the other doing the same to the Zetyans.
The operation had been a success.
Maybe not morally-if the still-steaming wrecks that now littered the lagranges were any indication, then the planet having been turned to slurries of molten slag and inconstitute glass would be the surest sign. But the once-important logistics system, a sleepy harbor that took decades to build up, had been reduced to a zero state in just an hour-two at most. As the last of the ancerium colliders were obliterated in the wake, a few more volleys were lapsed from the guns of the Zetyan ships, who bore their wounds like old wolves.
The Kel' manuever was likely the lynchpin. They were still standing, but they were hit hard; if the ODP groups hadn't been turned into stardust the Restevians would have been coming home to their children tonight. But that was of no concern to the Zettish fleet, who had charged straight to the objective while the Ce'thal laid fire upon them. A few more hits from the stragglers down below did their duty, taking out one ship and critically damaging others.
Onboard, there was little reaction to the dead. Not to the mournful transmission from the Kel's, not to the hulks of ships and stationery that loomed in the distance. It was a strange quality of the Zetyans, that their reactions to death could be so muted-perhaps it was just something they grew up with, maybe something in the army training, but while it no doubt stunted some emotional growth somewhere down the line it ensured permanently that the crew aboard those ships would be very proficient at the art of war.
..
The arrival of the RANGSI reinforcements was the final cue.
Zetyans didn't care much for death, unless it concerned themselves, but they care much for morale. Having half of their fleet be destroyed, the other half at minimum moderately damaged-that spoke miles in place for their morale. And even if spirits were higher, the job was done-all was nil, nada, reduced to their base parts. To stick around would be a fool's errand, to waste resources on these stragglers to invite death to their table. It was punctuated with gravitic signatures rising all across the fleet, and a flurry of missiles launched-one per ship.
"Del'rimo, KNS. This is Battlegroup A41, we are leaving the AO, rendevousing at snowball system then departing for home. Objective has been completed."
A rip in space like glass shattering appeared in front of them, the Zettish ships departing through a gunshot wound in the universe as the RANGSI ships made terminal approach. They did not recover the corpses in their wake, only the records that they had existed-and then the fracture closed, without so much as a 'good work' or 'nice job'.
There had clearly been no hope for the RANGSI stragglers. As the Zetyans made their exit, launching missiles to cover their retreat, the frigates approaching the Zetyan vector was sent into temporary disarray. Many did not have ECM installed, and their point defence systems had been barely maintained or not at all while in storage, leaving many ships with malfunctioning turrets or PDs with no ammo at all. The Zetyan missiles crippled most of the straggler fleet, not enough to destroy but enough to mission kill them, with hits on engines that left them dead in the void.
The same fate awaited the straggler fleet approaching the C'ethal vector. The C'ethal ships holding positions above the planet returned fire and made short work of the incoming frigates and corvettes, with beams of mana and devastating Vampire missiles.
---
At L3 where the 3rd Rian Tabah's patrol base had been, new FTL contacts streamed in. 200 warships emerged from the depths of the Meridian, their dark green rectangular hulls were unmistakably RANGSI. They quickly got into formation and advanced to the patrol base in a series of wedge formations. The Poleisi fleet, now reduced to nothing more than looters busying themselves with the spoils of the starbase, were quickly caught off-guard, and were overwhelmed in force by the RANGSI reinforcements. Biremes were torn apart by plasma-sheathed railguns, or shredded into swiss cheese with nuclear needle missiles.
The scene made Force Admiral Guptamargan grit his teeth. A RANGSI system - now a graveyard. The planet where billions of citizens had lived - now a molten glass of nothingness. There was no sign of the local system defence force anywhere, no IFFs, no radio traffic, no nothing. But the numerous carcasses of RANGSI warships all around the system was evidence enough of what happened.
Guptamargan's 92nd Strike Force that had arrived responding to distress calls finished off the last of the Poleisi forces and advanced forward towards the C'ethals. They broke off into two halves - one was enroute to L4 to link up with ODP Group B and the Restevian allies who were still in the fight. The other, with Guptamargan, continued straight on a vector towards the system's star, where they will then curve around and strike the Logistics Ports to catch the C'ethal fleet in orbit above Rian-Tabah in a pincer maneuverer.
—--
There was nothing that they could do. Despite the rapid response that the Restevians had sent, the damage was done, and the planet below them burned. How many billions of dead? The Restevians had no way to tell, not with active combat still ongoing. The few survivors of the frenetic, fast paced engagement had indeed rallied around ODP group B and were continuing to defend it among the shattered corpses of their comrades with the burning world as a backdrop, using fighters and drones to continue to engage any targets of opportunity that crossed their scopes. For the most part, this meant the C'ethal fleet following the expeditious retreat of the Zetyan remains.
Many of the crews aboard these warships were too young to remember Ural, but the loss of a world like this was still something that could not be welcomed, and never would be. Cold pragmatism had won out over outrage, and the voices over the comms were clipped and efficient, strained as the men and women speaking staved off the weight of their failure and the grief for their comrades until the last enemy had been driven off or destroyed. To this end, as the incoming RAGNSI fleet streamed in-system, acknowledgement was sent from the Restevian flagship as the fleet's spinals and tachyon weapons continued to hammer towards the C'ethal, any signals to advance on the enemy lit green by the cruisers, few as there were that remained.
The battle was lost. Their work was not done.
Above Rian-Tabah, C’ethal fleet
The work was done. A planet lay in ruin, smoke filling the skies as fires burned and consumed all around them. In the vast expanse of space above the planet Rear Admiral Bentua watched on in morbid glee. While their Zetyan allies had departed as quickly as they arrived, the Rear Admiral waited a while to bask in the glory of her victory.
“Pilot, maneuver us out of here and begin plotting a corse for Fleet rendezvous coordinates.” Captian Tayrul ordered. Admiral Bentua gave a side eye to the Captain, but did not move to disregard her order. Looking to the tactical display she read the fleet composition of the reinforcing RANGSI fleet. It might have been possible to engage them, but their orders were absolute, raid the planet and get out if reinforcements arrived.
As the C’ethal fleet maneuvered away a parting volley of shots was fired. Not at the planet, nor the approaching RANGSI fleet, but the untouched Ancerium depot. Bolts of Mana and Nuclear missiles raced forwards toward the station. If they could not have the precious fuel, then their SAGA foes could not have it either.
The Frigate Dauntless had not completed the necessary repairs. With orders to leave the AO the crew began preparations to scuttle the ship. The Mana reactors were fed into a a feed back loop and safeties were pulled from weapons and miscellaneous power sources. Shuttles and escape pods launched from the Frigate and were picked up by the fleet. Angry red energy coursed over the ship as mana tried to find a way out of the buildup. Bolts of mana energy arched out and back onto the ship like a miniature Solar Prominences.
While this display of chaotic magical energy danced behind them, the C’ethal fleet made preparations to jump. Clam and almost soothing purple and blue energy traced along the hulls in familiar patterns. Arcane sigils began forming in empty space before the ships and space began to shift and distort as if it was the surface of a lake.
Mana pooled and was fed back in on itself until the systems of the Dauntless could take it no more. The feedback loop was now running away and nothing could stop it. A Spatial Quake was forming at the ships core and it began feeding on the numerous collected sources of Mana. The ship buckled and distorted as gravity across the Quakes wake was compressed and expanded randomly. Dark red, almost black energy pooled in the center of the sphere of influence and menacing bots of magical ‘lightning’ lashed out into empty space.
In a chaotic burst of exotic particles both magical and not, the Dauntless exploded. A torrential wave of chaotic energy racing out at the sluggish speed of light. Timed perfectly to be hidden by the burst of energy, the C’ethal fleet jumped away.
With the last C'ethal ship warped out of system, all CONA forces have retreated from the Rian-Tabah system, or more precisely, what was left of it. As for the Poleisi, those who not sensible enough to follow the Kel fleet were destroyed instead by the RANGSI reinforcements.
On paper perhaps, Force Admiral Guptamargan's 92nd Strike Force had accomplished its objectives by making the CONA fleets retreat with its overwhelming presence. But he and everyone else knew better. They knew that they came too late. Rian-Tabah, its riches, its industry and its strategic value to the war effort, was all gone. Billions of citizens dead. War materiel destined to resupply the Aedelshaven theatre destroyed. The ramifications would soon be felt by the ground and space forces in the Aedelshaven theatre a week later when the supply flows suddenly stopped. With every other industrial system working full-time to outfit other theatres of this ever-expanding war, or towards the dramatic expansion of the war-time fleet, no one else could supply the Aedelshaven theatre for the time being. Operational tempo was drastically reduced as spaceships and tanks alike halted their advances to conserve supplies.
Search-and-rescue operations were promptly launched once the 92nd confirmed that the system was secure. Survivors were recovered, while the dead were collected and sorted into bodybags for their eventual last rites. Those belonging to the Restevians were returned promptly to them, and the Restevian forces were thanked for their timely assistance, courage and sacrifice. If they had not been there, Force Admiral Guptamargan stressed, he would have arrived to a completely dead system, or perhaps would not have arrived at all. The presence of the Restevians in the battle ensured that there were at least survivors.
Alas, the Blitz of Rian-Tabah would not be the last, for surely, other CONA forces are gathering strength, and have been emboldened by this victory to target other systems. RANGSI too would not rest, for they too would certainly punish CONA for this transgression.