Matt the Radar Tech
ꜰɪxɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴏsᴇ ʀᴀᴅᴀʀs ᴀɴᴅ sᴛᴜꜰꜰ
CHISS SPACE
Copero City; Copero.
Complete and utter devastation.
Almost an entire city brought to ruins, the result of an uncontrolled, unhinged and completely overzealous military force from the Confederacy of Independent Systems. Entire city blocks reduced to charred rubble, disregard for civilian lives, a blatant act of callous and spiteful war-time criminality. Thousands upon thousands of corpses had been removed in the aftermath of the invasion of Copero, following the evacuation of the Jen'ari occupying force. So many were innocent, caught up in the fight that they didn't want part of, murdered by forces that had no self-control or restraint. Just pure destructive and pathetically narcissistic-focused rage, applied like a blanket to a population of people amid their own civil war, in order to enact some barely conceivable - or even remotely relevant - attack on another Empire. When had these forces even interacted? When had such hatred spouted from previous engagements and acts of war? It was almost like the attack was little more than a knee-jerk reaction to some unquantifiable slight the Confederacy felt from the Jen'ari.
Unfeeling sociopaths, much like their droids, it seemed.
Each and every one of the Confederacy seemingly incapable of basic sentient feelings, such as empathy, regret, and remorse. Clearly, the Confederacy military and leadership had stunted emotional and maturity growth themselves, remaining ignorant to the plight of innocent men, women and children who did not accept the Jen'ari as their rulers. There were numerous holovids, security footage, personal recordings; they showed the tactical skill and power of the mighty Confederacy against the old, the infantile, the fleeing and the inculpable... oh how impressive their armies were, their Generals and Commanders of Murder.
One particularly callous act was the completely intentional destruction of a hospital filled with Chiss in varying states of health while also housing those that were fleeing the battle. That particular display of war crime would be thoroughly investigated.
Meanwhile, the Jen'ari who had forced their boot upon the necks of millions of disagreeing Chiss, simply left. The carnage sustained, but the effects forgotten, because they no longer had use for the planet. Those who were responsible, the Chiss ruling houses, had been dealt with. And yet, somehow, the Chiss still suffered the most for actions beyond their control. Perhaps it was a failure of government structure, or simply basic greed and lust for power, as the Ascendancy had been successful within itself for countless generations. The answer wasn't immediately apparent, not without considerable time spent to analyzing, however one thing remained clear:
No wonder the Confederacy didn't seek communication with the CEDF who stood against the Jen'ari, Mitth'orn'eruod thought. They simply didn't care. They merely wanted to react, without conscience or responsibility... what a plague they are. Each of them. Spiteful beings.
Even now, some months after the attack, the Admiral of the Second Fleet walked through the ruins of Copero City, his boots and pants covered in dust and particles. All around hundreds of thousands of Chiss worked, endlessly, to do what they could. The CEDF had blockaded the planet, while marines and vessels capable of atmospheric travel had begun assisting in rescue, clearing and rebuilding efforts. The Chiss were a logical, emotionally controlled, pragmatic people; and this was in full effect as portions of city were removed to ground-level, foundations laid bare, in order for reconstruction to begin. The dead, so many non-combatants, were put to rest as determined by wills and wishes of families that survived.
Those loyal to the Jen'ari had been removed, sent into exile. Others, the true Ascendancy, had volunteered assistance and support, opening homes and credits to those who had somehow survived, but were left with nothing. Families had been torn asunder, children had been burned by Confederacy soldiers in their apartments, one of the orbital shipyards had been destroyed, causing considerable damage to the atmosphere in that region of the planet. The fallout of such raining radiation and poisoning other innocents nowhere near the battle...
And there had been more personal losses, also.
Mitth'orn'eruod stopped at the location where his familial home had been. Now it was little more than debris and broken things. His immediate family had been killed, his mother and siblings in this very spot, his father in space on the shipyard. It was a difficult time for the Admiral, not least of all because of the controlled emotional responses, but also because of the ramifications his house would suffer. House Mitth had been working endlessly to earn their place in Chiss society since their downfall centuries ago. They had managed to maintain the ownership of the Copero shipyards, earning small influence through service to providing the Ascendancy with vessels for generations. He would also inherit the shipyards, as the remaining claimant of his father's house. Now, a large portion of that shipyard had been destroyed, of which Mitth'orn'eruod understood it had been a military-specific target, even he couldn't begrudge the Confederacy that... but this also meant considerable resources would be required to reestablish and rebuild, of which House Mitth would once again suffer a heavy cost to bear.
Not to mention the billions of credits it would take to rebuild the capital, support those injured and homeless, not to mention atmospheric cleaning efforts.
"This battle between the Jen'ari and the Confederacy has cost the Chiss far more than either side," Mitth'orn'eruod muttered, as he crouched down and took up a handful of powdered duracrete. His home, now, held like dust in his gloved hand. "They are cancerous parasites siphoning the life from those around them..."
Releasing the powder, Mitth'orn'eruod stood. He looked down at the destroyed foundation of his family home, out across the ruined city in a state of mid-repair. His crimson eyes narrowed, ablaze, as he gripped his hands at the small of his back, leather gloves threatening to split the seams around his palms.
There will be a reckoning.
But now, now it was time to help those that couldn't help themselves. Mitth'orn'eruod turned and walked toward some rescue workers, as he removed his gloves, rolled up his uniform sleeves and nodded...
"What can I do to help?"
