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If the Stygian Campaign did anything positive within the Eternal Empire, it was to herald the ascension of a new Empress, and it was to reveal the weaknesses which resided within the Eternal Fleet - the first line of defense that was severely tested against the Galactic Alliance, and found wanting in more than one respect. In the nearly year and a half following the major conflict, the Empire has turned inward both socially and militarily. While the Empire began sweeping social reforms under its Empress’s new policies, the Eternal Fleet set about reforging itself to project the power and order needed to worthily represent the empire it sought to protect.
Fleets were re-organized, Admirals forced into an ‘early retirement’ due to gross incompetence and replaced by newer blood with a more modern vision on spacial warfare and tactical doctrine. The Empire’s industrial infrastructure set about literally rebuilding the fleet to the former glory it once believed it had, but instead set about making said belief a reality via newer and more robust warships armed with cutting edge weapons technology. Now, as nearly two years have passed since the Empire’s war with the Galactic Alliance, and in the wake of a very recent and surprising coup de grâce against the crumbling Bryn’adul Empire, another threat which was previously believed to be dormant has arisen anew - emerging from the shadows at the Galactic west of the Empire’s domain.
The Ssi-Ruuk - a saurian sentient race who decimated the First Order decades prior, and who had up until now only been known to engage in the occasional raid or skirmish against Eternal Empire colonies - has launched a massive offensive from the star system of Lwhekk. Little is known of them save for their sheer brutality, purported to use the life essences of other sentient races to power their infrastructure and technology. Said tales were considered little more than fables meant to scare little children into listening to their mothers rather than misbehaving. Yet, the reality has proven said rumors closer to the truth. Outposts have fallen silent throughout the sector bordering between the systems of Zakuul, Pa’Desh, and Kammia, with scattered reports following a scant few ships carrying small amounts of survivors from the observation outpost established by the Empire in orbit over Lwhekk, tasked with alerting Imperial forces in advance of major Ssi-Ruuk activity. In a matter of hours from the start of the attack, the station went completely dark with the sector all but overrun. Advance forces of Ssi-Ruuk attack ships have been sighted on the fringes of Imperial space, with ‘Observation Post 0027’ classified as lost, and likely destroyed.
The time for the Eternal Fleet to prove itself once again has been thrust upon it by fate itself. Even now, forces from across the Empire are mobilizing to meet the encroaching threat - hopefully before more lives are lost to the invading foe.
Objectives
Objective 1: BREAKTHROUGH
While the worlds of Zakuul, Kammia, and Pa’Desh brace for the arrival of the Ssi-Ruuk vanguard with what warships and reserve forces close enough to respond, a detachment of battle-hardened elements of the Eternal Fleet under the command of Fleet Admiral Elias Vikaander have formed a task force to sweep around the incursion through uncharted territory to directly attack the planet of Lwhekk itself for a two-fold objective: first, to deny the Ssi-Ruuk their homeworld should they fall back. Second, to destroy the brutal civilization once and for all. Ragnarok Protocol is in effect via the Empress’s authority herself - no prisoners, and no survivors. While the fleet has orders to prioritize military targets, given the old wounds inflicted by the alien savagery of the Ssi-Ruuk, and given the sheer scope of the assault, it would be foolish to assume no civilian casualties will occur. One way or the other, Lwhekk will fall, and the Ssi-Ruuk will submit. For the Empire!
Because of this, elements of the Eclipse Rebellion have covertly mobilized on the planet to rescue as many innocent civilians as they can before the overwhelming might of the Eternal Fleet descends upon Lwhekk. Whether by intent or not, and despite the seeming justification of the Empire’s strike against their invaders - if the Rebellion has any say in the matter, no innocent lives will be lost.
Objective 2: DARK RUMOURS
While publicly, the fate of Observation Post-0027 is considered to be that it has been either lost to the enemy or destroyed, the few survivors who fled the far-flung outpost have yielded reports of truly gruesome and... arcane rituals being performed within the station, no doubt part of the Ssi-Ruuk’s process of harvesting the souls of the living for their own nefarious needs. Initial reports have confirmed that the station is still intact, and the Empress herself has approved a highly specialized covert insertion team via highly classified stealth infiltration vessels to investigate these rumors - for it may well yield valuable intel in the fight against the Ssi-Ruuk both in space and planet-side.
Objective 3: NO ESCAPE
Intelligence from Blackwatch has indicated that a fugitive of the Eternal Empire is hiding right under the Ssi-Ruuk Empire’s notice upon the planet of Lwhekk itself - a warlord of the First Order known as Tiera’al Hett, who was directly responsible for much of the weapon-system development for the defunct empire - and is even rumored to know the locations of secret caches of First Order tech; potentially even larger stores of Beskar’gam from the United Clans of Mandalore. Such a target would be of use to a variety of entities, not just the Empire. While shock troopers will be deployed by the Eternal Fleet to apprehend this fugitive, such a highly valued target would be indispensable for those who heed the call of the Resol’nare, or even those of a more... rebellious variety.
Objective 4: BYOO
There are many more ways to interact with the inhabitants than are listed here. Not to mention, there is an entire hex worth of stories to be told. Have fun in any way that you please!
This was it. The skirmish at Keskin, the standoff at Panatha, the annihilation of the Bryn’adul on Danuta; all of those moments in time and countless others throughout his career had converged upon this singular moment in Aximand’s career. The Empire was under attack. While that in and of itself was nothing unique, given the outbreak of the Stygian Campaign, and several incursions by forces of the Shadow Empire and other threats both within and without, this was a foe nearly consigned to the annals of history only to reawaken to assert its dominance. The Ssi-Ruuk Empire has arisen, and has launched a massive incursion into Imperial space. The Eternal Fleet had fortuitously used the past two years effectively in bolstering their forces and overhauling their structure. Now, during this crucial time, its potency would be tested. But it would not be upon some carefully calculated offensive, or in some impending attack that seasoned admirals had a plethora of time to prepare for.
No, instead this moment had been thrust upon them unexpectedly by an age-old enemy. If they failed, it would not be hard to imagine the fate that would befall the Eternal Empire, which would likely be akin to the fate of the First Order decades prior. This did not trouble Aximand however, because he knew one simple truth - they would not fail. They could not - to do so would be unimaginable since they had risen so far. Aximand would give everything - even his own life - to assure the Empire’s continued existence. As his flotilla comprised of elements of Battleforce Stygian exited light speed at the rally point transmitted to him via Admiral Vikaander - the Fleet Admiral in charge of the rushed but covert assault upon Lwhekk. While hundreds of other vessels within the Eternal Fleet hurried to establish a defensive cordon around the sectors bordering the incursion, Aximand alongside other seasoned fleet commanders were tasked with bringing the fight to the Ssi-Ruuk. Their mission; to deny the invaders their homeworld, and exact the full devastation the Empire could muster via its Ragnarok protocol. Military targets were prioritised, but if Aximand has his way - none of these blasted saurian carnivores would survive.
He internally fumed over the task set before them - his flagship the Retribution along with its small contingent of an assortment of ships from the different battlelines aligning themselves in a loose formation, awaiting the arrival of others. The rendezvous point was in neutral territory, which hopefully meant they would avoid the brunt of the Ssu-Ruuk incursion before they planned to embark upon their own attack. Fleet Admiral Vikaander’s forces were already there, and after exchanging friendly affirmations, they awaited for the arrival of the other admirals.
The Empress always keeps what she promises, and her current promise was that she would prove to the Mandalorians on the battlefield that the intentions of the Eternal Empire were serious with them. She promised this to Adenn Kyramud
, so the woman was here now. She had already arrived before her own shock troopers and the Mandalorians to do reconnaissance. She was an agent and a spy, mostly relying only on her own work.
Over the years, she has developed a pretty good method that is thorough, accurate and everything is perfect. Her own method never let her down. Last but not least, she liked to do this. The Warlord's castle was in a more secluded place in the woods. Ingrid knew exactly that if the information was accurate, the man had committed a huge sin. And this could not be tolerated by their Mandalorians. True, the woman would not have done it if someone had stolen from her House or clans in this way.
The palace was well protected and even surrounded by a shield. Still, there was a way to get in secretly, quietly, sneaked in. The question was what the woman’s allies wanted. Ingrid was currently waiting at the rendezvous point for the others to arrive or get close. If this happened then she opened a communication channel to the Mandalorian delegation. She didn't know who was coming yet, so she didn't say names.
<< This is the Red Witch! I found a secret entrance, which leads behind the shields, to the palace. Which method do we choose? Siege or a silent, sneaky solution? >> asked on the communication channel in Mando'a.
What some might have called the glory days had passed by with alarming speed. The once bustling war rooms lay dormant save for the occasional incursion by troublemakers wandering too close. Quickly warded off by the asteroid outposts set about the Scintilla. Nothing as grand and dangerous as the previous fights for survival that had taken place.
That alone was a disarming calm.
The once maniacal laughter of their interim leader Scherezade had long fled the halls. Unknown reasons for her disappearance did little to keep the remaining Agents where they were. The lot of them setting out and into the stars like meteors with a glistening tail to find their place in the galaxy.
Dimitri had lingered.
Dimitri had long since forgotten when the halls had become so silent. The only disturbance being made by his footsteps through the corridors that lacked the same energy as they had sustained. It all felt like yesterday and yet so very long ago. The artificial environment had never deceived his senses truly. It could create wonderful displays of any variety, and made the most willing of believers feel as though they were truly there.
But the lie was never comforting for him.
The world had slowly lost a sense of color. There was nothing happening. No grand adventure or danger incoming to disrupt the life that was moving around him. He felt as though he were standing still all the while bodies flowed around him. His eyes were always searching for something that never promised to return.
A feeling that he hadn't realized he had missed.
The worst times were in the quiet of his quarters. Whether on a ship or the spheres. The circling predators of his own thoughts an inescapable forest that never truly ended no matter how hard he ran. The loneliness and idle milling could only spare him from self-destructive tendencies for so long as the Chiss second in command tried to keep him on the straight and narrow.
But there was only so much she could do from afar.
His companion, the pocket vornskr helped in its own way. The small modicum of companionship and tether free affection keeping him from the worst of ideas as he silently passed the days by. Always with the hopeful glance cast down empty hallways. Searching for faces that had smiled and laughed only to see empty chairs where they had been.
The daily reminder ate away at him slowly, the mounting feeling of solitude now becoming a curse rather than a blessing.
The quiet of the ship's deck was menacing. The overwhelming void of activity and voices gnawing at the last remnants of sanity that helped him grasp the bottle in his right hand. The crew were on leave, as they had been for some time with the unnoticed dissolution of the Agents.
He wobbled as he sat, the cold of the metal floor almost comforting as he cradled his forehead against the arm spread across his knees. He pondered leaving this life, as he had so many times before. Finding somewhere quiet to settle down and blend into the bland life of a civilian. Lo'Natar would have skinned him alive had he heard the idea or caught even a whiff of the thought.
A beep sounded.
Beneath the protective shroud his arm provided against the lights, his eyes blinked slowly. Barely registering the sound as he fumbled for the source. He tapped pockets, finding the lump of the datapad in his pocket and clumsily drawing out the thing.
It took more attempts to open the message than he would ever admit to, eyes opening wide and closing quickly after adjusting to the screen's brightness as words swirled in his view.
A message from Ms. Priddy.
The woman had done well for herself. Setting up in a good location and securing a deal for production regardless of her previous affiliations. He shouldn't have been upset at the thought, but it brought a pang of sorrow as he read on. A request to refurbish the Lullaby was made. Something he had never thought about as he mulled on the idea.
Thoughts went back to those that had gone before him. Leaving him alone whether the intent or not behind their departure. A phrase caught his attention. She was making things for the Eternal Empire. A trail of thinking slowly formed, his rational mind slowly working in his inebriated state as he was reminded of the old alliance.
The Empress was still extending that offer as he slowly formulated his reply, plans slowly forming and a sense of purpose pushing down the dark thoughts that had pervaded his mind. The reply was slow to form, but eventually the point was made.
Niki had informed him that the Empire had become more cautious of late, and that he would likely be welcomed should he take up the mantle to fly once more. His deep brow furrowed at the remark, mouth opening to rebuke the statement as he realized who he was speaking with. The woman already seemed prepared to argue, a hand on her hip and that tired expression upon her face before he had even uttered a word.
Rather than fuel the imaginary fire that already existed beneath the calm mask Niki had put on, he switched gears and asked about something else.
"They seem to be dousing some fires of late. Trouble brewing in the galaxy again?" He offered the question in hopes of throwing her off. It seemed to fail spectacularly. Niki was shaking her head, tapping the display of the refurbished vessel before glancing at him.
"Nervous? How long has it been since you have been off the Scintilla?" She asked him with a smug self-satisfaction. His face screwed up in embarrassment, suddenly finding the comms-station interesting as he pondered his rebuttal. The woman always had an uncanny understanding of things around her. One of the frustrating things of interacting with her, at least for him anyways.
"A while. Almost three years now." Niki gave a sarcastically sharp whistle at the number, taking a moment to look him over a little better. Namely looking to his stomach before raising a brow to him. "I've been busy."
"Doing what? Polishing the floors? Checking the engines and reactors? There was nothing coming or going that far out without some purpose." Niki cut through the façade of work before looking at him with a shrug and a smile. "Anyway. It's good to see you, Admiral."
He had only meant to deliver the ships Niki had entrusted to him for delivery. Warships as a thank you gift for not blasting her ship out of the sky with schematics and copyrights aboard to make it easier for the Empire to quickly reproduce the smaller fleet support vessels.
They each had a purpose in their development. Niki had seen to it he understood those ideas before he had departed for the Empresses space. Something he had begrudgingly, though carefully, paid attention to in her explanation. The Requiem had been an excuse to leave the Scintilla. Its departure and arrival were entirely unscheduled events as he patched himself into the Empire's communication lines to ensure clearance and space for his arrival.
Instead, alarming news flashed across the system's aboard the ship. A breaths time was all it took to hear an angry, reptilian whisper in his ear. To hear a friend he had long thought gone speak across the void that dared hold him. The old war dog whispered in his persistent menacing tone, and he could feel the clawed hand resting atop his jacketed shoulder once more.
The Hunt begins anew.
The weight of old choices seemed like shackles about his wrists and ankles. Names flickering across a washed out screen, rolling through to forever remind him of his failures.
Rimes watched him silently, the Chiss XO waiting for direction as he rubbed his hands together to give himself precious seconds to decide if he would release himself from the mental prison he had made around himself, or be content with wallowing in perceived failures.
"Rimes…" he spoke finally, hearing the subtle shift in clothing that denoted her attention. "Set a course...for Ssi-Ruuk space. We'll cut them off at the knee and reduce those that return to dust."
The barest hint of a smile formed at the corners of her mouth as the bridge crew twisted in their seats with excited energy. Renewed at the sudden shift and hurriedly collaborating to get the jump coordinates in preparation. Alerts rang throughout the ship. General Quarters resounded through the ship's system as Dimitri slowly walked forward to the viewport ahead.
Stars blinked into existence behind him in a brilliant cascade of lights and swirling masses. Stardust graced the shoulders of his jacket as hands formed from the cosmic foundations, linking together across his chest as Star appeared around him and looking at his reflection in the viewport.
"Are you sure, Admiral? There is no stepping back from this ledge once you leap from it?" She sang, her words severe as she locked her eyes with his.
"Coordinates confirmed. Reactors and hyperdive spooled. Assembled vessels confirmed ready, Admiral...your orders?" Rimes asked, seeking his answer just as the AI did.
Just as all those assembled did. He blinked, the reality of it all settling in as he watched the stars twinkle in the vast inky dark of space.
Was he ready?
"All jump on my mark. Rimes, count it down. Battle stations before full reversion. We are jumping feet first into the fire people. Send them Ravager Fleets regards." Dimitri's voice boomed across the bridge as Rimes began her count. Star gave a squeeze before flitting off.
"Mark."
Twenty-three ships blinked out of existence. Destined for the Ssi-Ruuk homeworld as the crews began to lockdown bulkheads and prepare for their return to war.
No sooner had Ingrid L'lerim
signalled to others than a silver puddle of mercury-like liquid flowed from the woods, gathering itself in front of the Red Witch.
It churned and rippled, swelling as the large puddle of Nanites gathered itself into a humanoid, feminine shape, eventually assuming the form of a pale, thin, but rather beautiful woman in a skintight silvery catsuit with black spikes on key sections.
She was a member of one of the most dangerous series of Droids ever produced. Not just that but she was a prototype to that series.
Lyssa Io, if she was asked directly, would say she didn't enjoy killing for its own sake. She merely enjoyed completing her objectives. If killing was required to complete them, then kill she would.
Lyssa opened her eyes, irises mercury like. Her Nanites bordered on being organic cells, due to her technology being derived from Westenra Mina
, a copy of whom was in the direct service of Ingrid (She was elsewhere, conducting anti-Eclipse Rebellion ops)
"Empress, a concerned third party has dispatched me to this location to be part of your efforts in capturing this wanted criminal. While I favor a stealth approach you will find me more than able to rip and tear, until it is done... should you deem it necessary to go loud." Lyssa explained.
She didn't say "Darth Xiphos" out loud, because there wasn't supposed to be any Sith operating in the Empire's borders and it would not do for that name to slip out casually even amongst allies. But Ingrid would undoubtedly know who she was talking about, just like she had probably figured out who actually built her Super Star Healer, The Shield of Sacrifice...
Very few even knew her line of droids existed, due to the fact enemy witnesses were rarely left alive. Lyssa and her sisters were so cutting edge they were likely two to three centuries ahead of most other Droid lines, and were absolutely lethal to unprepared Force Users. But Mother respected the capabilities of Mandalorians. Lyssa had noted normal people tended to last longer against her. A most curious paradox.
"How many can we expect waiting for us inside?" Lyssa asked. "I can slip under the shield to take a peak, if you want..."
Long ago, the First Order had been made aware of the threat that was the Ssi-Ruuvi Imperium. During the gilded age of the Second First Order, Race himself had participated in the retaliatory strike that had supposedly ended the threat of the Ssi-Ruuk.
They were surly mistaken.
Years later, near the end of the Great Galactic War, the eve of the young Tolsen's own promotion to Commodore, the Ssi-Ruuk struck the First Order with an invasion force that all but decimated the crowing imperial government. Planet by planet fell victim to the Sssi-Ruuvi onslaught, and by the time Bakura fell, all hopes of defeating the enemy died with the people.
Race would never allow that to happen again.
The first of his warships exited hyperspace with the classic sonic boom, the fabric of space bending around the hull of the battlecarrier, warping quickly out of the deep blue wormhole. The rest of the Strike Force followed suit, a small collection of the best ships the Eternal Empire had to offer. Each crewed by experts in their respective field, the Admiral would expect no less.
With the forces of Rear Admiral Sicarus and his fellow Fleet Admiral Vikaander, the elder Admiral approached the holo-com with distinctive purpose. His aurora reeked of discipline, the epitome of order. The first orders he issued to his section of the fleet were simple: prepare for battle. He pressed his palms against the metallic circle that formed the base of the communications station, sighing ever so briefly as the first scans of the system were brought up for him.
2 x Gravis-class Heavy Cruiser - 875m each - 1750m total
-ENS Venerable [Escort Vessel. Moderate Gun Platform]
-ENS Challenger
Frigates
3 x Skirmisher I-class Frigate (The Temporal Triplets) - 250m each - 750m total
-ENS Sunset [Anti-starfighter Screener. Patrol Vessel]
-ENS Dawn
-ENS Midnight
4 x Loth-Wolf-class Patrol Frigate - 500m each - 2000m total
-ENS Gale [Anti-fighter Screener. Patrol Vessel. Moderate Weapons Platform]
-ENS Blizzard
-ENS Cyclone
-ENS Tempest
2 x Ashkelon-class Escort Frigate - 400m each - 800m total
-ENS Whirlwind [Anti-fighter Screener. Support-ship Killer]
-ENS Hailstorm
Objective 1 - Breakthrough
"Oh, the places we'll go."
It was the younger Captain's misguided attempt at humor, his own way of drawing the attention of the junior officers from the coming slaughter, or perhaps simply to distract himself.
Captain Fowlinge was like that. Oddly chipper when the enemy's guns weren't aimed his way. Thankfully, the captain worked well under pressure, else Malanves would have had him reduced to patrol duty years before.
"Admiral. Line's reporting Condition Greens all around," Commodore Monidev was a different case entirely. For her, the enemy's guns always were trained her way, always in a position to strike. And fortunately for Monidev, her superior didn't dismiss her as paranoid. No, paranoia was a detrimental quality, and the commodore was far from that. Rather, cautious. Alert, "We'll be dropping from hyperspace within the adjacent system as per your orders, sir. E.T.A: Ten minutes." He did have to admit she could sound quite drab at times, however.
Malanves nodded curtly, eyes still firmly affixed to the readings splayed out before his terminal. Observation Post 0027's last report stood still, silent, as the station itself now did. He suppressed a snarl. Their enemy was a brutal one. Imperial forces unlucky enough to be within the system had been slaughtered, butchered within mere hours or possibly coerced into the Ssi-ruuk's ever hungry war machine.
"Inform our escort ships to adopt a circular formation around the line once we've entered realspace. And have our gun crews on stand by with the Damocles cannons." The rear admiral suddenly elected to speak aloud, lips soon pursed in morbid anticipation as the assault line neared its target-- The wretched planet of Lwhekk.
For their crimes against the Eternal Empire, the Ssi-ruuk would watch their fleets burn, and their soldiers follow in agony. Their offensive would crumble before them, and once the foul savages retreated, seeking the safety of their homeworld, They too would watch that burn.
"E.T.A: One minute, sir," The commodore spoke again, drifting off into a suspenseful silence as she slid into the seat adjacent to her superior. Fowlinge took it as a signal to man his own station, the bubbly atmosphere by then drained from his expression. His teeth barred, anticipating the bitter taste of battle. As did they all, in their own little ways-- the bridge crew, the engineers tucked far below deck, the scattered crewmen listening attentively for the sound of clanging metal.
Their silent queries were soon met. The Thirteenth Heavy Assault Line broke straight through hyperspace's threshold, already marking new bearings for the barrels of their turbolasers, and plotting new courses for the Eternal Empire's fury to approach Lwhekk. Audacious, among them, barred her metallic teeth, drawing upon the violent elimination of hypermatter in her heart to force the motion of countless arrays of machinery. Long-range sensors established the new locks, but they'd again be adjusted once the combined Imperial task force met their Ssi-ruuk opponents head-on. And they'd keep adjusting. The locks would swing, swing, swing, until the threat to the Eternal Empire was left only as a field of debris and blood.
Malanves, with the fleet's reemergence in realspace, nodded once more. His voice proceeded, loud, and commanding in contrast to the silence. "Send my regards to Fleet Admiral Vikaandar," The rear admiral leaned forward in his seat, elbow bent to contact the leather of an armrest, and to support the aim of an intense stare.
His eyes trailed parallel to the muzzles of his flagship's cannons, watching as the void drew its last breath in silence...
The Empire was in danger, and the brutal threat of a violent warrior species needed to be stopped.
Flying through hyperspace, Gwyneira Craft, a Warden Initiate of the Shroud on behalf of the Eternal Empire, sighed. She had been on such short notice, she was still struggling to wake up as she tapped into her comlink from the cockpit. From behind her, her droid Mini was blaring about their safety in all of this.
"Safety is secondary, Mini. We need to protect the people of the Eternal Empire in this invasion. Our orders are clear, and I need to prove my worth to my new home."
The droid beeped in binary.
"Yes, because I'm dying to be accepted. Yes. But also because I agree with the Wardens motives, and support their Empire. I am not only proving my worth, but my loyalty."
She knew how to best assist the Empire with her ship, the Mercury Class Star Courier, as a support vessel. She had been assigned to Malanves Lagrange's grand fleet as support. This would be her first space battle, and she had to admit she was nervous. Scared even. She was especially worried for the lover who would be waiting for her return.
Luminescent ruby eyes bored intensely into electronic glow of the console’s screen, senses immersed in the flow of data fed in from the Eternal Imperial Battle Net, pertaining to sensor data from allied warships, projected hyperspace translation points, and other vital tactical information, filtered with rigorous efficiency as the Cadet worked to construct her mental image of the battlespace. The air seemed heavy with anticipation on the bridge of the ENS Retribution, at least according to Priscilla’s perception. Indeed, everyone was aware of the implications of another Ssi-ruuvi offensive, knowing that they were the same brutal civilization which had struck down the Second First Order at its height years before, an Imperial superpower which had been far more formidable than the Eternal Empire was now, having maintained a iron fist over much of the Outer Rim and Unknown Regions at the time of its fall.
While the Third First Order had managed to clear the Ssi-ruuk presence from some of their former territories, they had not lasted long before undergoing a second, more inexplicable collapse, creating a sudden power vacuum in the territories south of the Empire, leaving them open for future expansion…
If they managed to survive the Ssi-ruuk incursion.
With the Ssi-ruuk, there were no guarantees of survival or victory. They were far above pirates or minor Imperial warlords, which was why the response from the Eternal Empire had been so sudden, in the form of multiple large fleets and Ultranaut deployments. Having graduated too late to fight in the Third Imperial Civil War, a part of her anticipated the challenge of fighting the Ssi-ruuk, given their superpower-killing reputation.
Nevertheless, Priscilla intended to make sure that the ugly saurians didn’t make it past Pa’Desh.
No one would have believed in the last years of the ninth century ABY that this world was being watched keenly and closely by intelligences greater than man's and yet as mortal as his own;
The giant creature swam though the path quickly, gently banking around the edge of the mass shadow of a black hole, he was leaving the galaxy proper now, the path was straighter and less occluded as the mass density reduced he would soon be at the target and the he would feast on the Ssi-ruuk fleet. He had been told by his force handler that there was no mercy to be given to these aliens and that he could hunt freely. This was good.
One of his tentacles throbbed differently to the others, like it was his but also alien. The burn marks had long healed but the whole tentacle now resonated with a different electromagnetic frequency to the rest of him. Imperial scientist has spent days focusing high intensity electromagnetic beams, matching the EE comm frequency into his flesh, attempting to burn it into his memory. This had been a painful process and burned him. But now he had effective, albeit very limited communications with the Imperial Fleet.
He saw the exit to the path ahead of him and he slowed. In realspace a swirling red Maelstrom would appear of over 15km in diameter, buy utterly two dimensional as the path and realspace met. From this Maelstrom swam the enormous multieyed head, followed by dozens of great tentacles of the summa-verminoth. Force users would feel this as well as see it.
Alghul relaxed his concentration and allowed the doorway to collapse behind him. He sent a message through through force to any that would listen announcing his arrival.
He manipulated the damaged tentacle slightly, changing the amplitudes of the pulses flowing through it with fine muscle control. On the bridge of the nearest EE flagship there would be a simple comm appear from him. "Commands?" Any ships wishing to communicate back could do so on the same frequency via a tight beam, or via the force, but had been advised to keep electronic communication with him to a minimum to prevent electronic interference causing confusion.
If he did not receive orders, he knew his task, ahead of him stood the Ssi-ruuk fleet and the long flight through the path had made him very hungry.
The drums of war slowly trembled in delight through the halls of each vessel Dimitri had beneath him. Murmurs of excited crew danced along the communications between each gunner, each checking and double checking their equipment before nervously checking a third time.
Turrets spun and checked their swivel. Cleared lanes of fire as the crew hands in the hangars began to warm up catapult systems and fire up the droid starfighters. The self contained systems gave excited chirps and whirs for their imminent deployment. Strings of excited blips and warbles passed between the racks as they waited for the signal.
Bulkheads slammed shut, magnetic locks engaging as the internal security systems engaged and locked down sections of the ship in turn. Auxiliary generators had spooled up as the largest of the guns aboard the ships began to pool energy in their capacitors.
They had begun charging shortly after the jump had been made. A silent thanks to the ingenuity of the engineer behind the turret bases as the other systems were relieved of the stress.
"The CR90's will engage in blitz actions upon reversion. Target largest vessels or stations first and starship groupings secondary. Two per lane." Dimitri calmly spoke over the hyperwave comms. The clock was ticking perilously close to drop as he continued.
"DP20's will fill the gap between the blitz lines supported by the Coda's. I want all three Coda's focusing down on the largest vessel they have. Full rip and tear." Dimitri spoke bluntly before switching once more.
"Disruptors will maintain spacing while skirting the outside edges and keeping missiles and starfighters from separating the fleet anymore. Monarchs." The final set of orders emerged as the minute mark was struck.
"Knockout smaller vessels separately. The Requiem will be engaging the Lullaby protocol and begin firing upon tertiary heavy vessels." Dimitri sighed, lingering a moment on the comms before giving his sign off.
"Good luck, Discordia bless us and if you aren't gonna make it. Blow the core or find the unluckiest ess-oh-bee you can find and drag them with you. Dimitri, over and out." He shut off the line as Rimes and the bridge snuck glimpses his way.
He radiated calm. The typical nervous energy not about him as once had been the case. The feeling of a scaly hand upon his shoulder granting him the clarity to act as stardust and spots of light began to form next to Dimitri and Rimes.
The Requiem sat behind the rest of the assembled vessels. The viewport danced with light as the tunnel whirled and gave no sign of their intent. Dimitri let his gloved hand rub against the Tear of Byss. Rimes did little more than wait in anticipation as a voice called out for the imminent return to realspace.
There was no time to rescind his decision. No tIme to deliberate about the morality or the cost of this incursion into enemy territory. Lo'Natar always called it something but he couldn't think of it at the moment. Mind full of half formed plans flitting through to give them the best chances.
Dimitri moved away from the viewport as he and Rimes moved to their unofficial place of purpose. Each stood in silence, the weight of Dimitri's final word not escaping them as the final call was made.
The ships ripped into existence at a safe distance from the aggressors homeworld. Safe being relative to the gravity of the planet as a ring of steel and weapons dominated the viewports of every vessel he had brought with him.
Rain fire. Burn bright and hot till the very end.
Dimitri heard the Trandoshan's raspy voice hiss as the Requiem began to engage its Electronic Interference Mast. Short range communications began to fill with static as the jamming officers began to frantically coordinate.
The CR90's slowed dramatically for what felt like forever to the crews aboard. The sudden lurch as the engines roared to life caused those standing to buckle their knees at the jolt as each one began to careen forward with their SLAM drives activated.
The Requiem and every vessel equipped began to spew droid starfighters. A swarm emerging from the flagship as the catapult pressors slammed the next out and into the void of space in dangerously tight speeds. The support droids sprinted to the farthest corners of the system with haste, free of chase for the time being as larger power sources and more threatening ones made themselves known.
They would form a ring around the entire operating area in quick succession of their deployment. The Lullaby Protocol dictating their engagement as they loitered in low power mode. They were close enough the laser communications would easily transmit to the main force as they fed information to the engaging fleet about enemy numbers.
Each attacking droid starfighter diverted full weapon power to the bomblet generators, following a tight path behind the CR90's before separating from their partial cover to fan out.
The Ssi-Ruuk vessels were caught off guard but not entirely unaware as their vessels maneuvered to counter the incoming.
The CR90's fanned out in pairs, the speed cutting a quicker path than the main armaments of the enemy could track with efficient or deadly efficiency as defensive fire sputtered into life. They burned hard and fast in between large vessels while dropping seismic charges in their wake.
The detonations rocked the vessels, shields flaring into existence as the energies found no place to return as exterior systems took the brunt of the damage.
Starfighters slowly emerged from the enemy ships as Droid Starfighters closed in on them, skirting vessels in the CR90's trajectory. The bomblet generators hummed with life as volleys of reactor energy targeted hangar entryways and exposed antenna installations.
The DP20's were coming up behind and beside the Coda's, slowly reaching out and unloading volumes of fire as the Coda's targeted a vessel cooperatively and began working down the shields with staggered fire.
The charged turbolasers of the Requiem swiveled, targeting smaller assault vessels as the half charged weapons let loose. The shields of enemy vessels bubbled against the energy before power broke and the beams struck the hull. All weapons abroad began to light up the blank dark of space with different colored bolts and sought targets near and far.
The Monarch's slowly ambled forward letting their pulse cannons spool a moment longer as they aligned themselves. They settled into a firing position, all the while gunnery crews were vectoring their fire at the nearest vessels before the pulse cannons began to work and loosed their destructive power.
The scene before him was both nauseating and exhilarating. The leader he had been before might have waffled, remembering the lives that had been drained to fuel these war machines. Might have faltered to end the existence of an enemy in lieu of saving some semblance of remaining souls.
The light of destruction shone against his eyes. The gaze of his second staring in silent awe as the prelude of destruction began before them.
He did not wonder as to the location of the Eternal Empire. Did not bat an eye as to the lack of backup that he doubted might come to his aid. Byss had been a proper show of how he should conduct himself when the odds were not in ones favor. When a veritable fortress stood between himself and a goal.
The raspy voice chuckled as his mind swirled with violence long held back in lieu of caution. In hopes of morals and Valor winning out. In vain belief of the greater good. In lives lost due to inaction. Of scorned allies and lost friends.
What do we do to walls in our path forward Dimitri?
The Trandoshan had once asked him. He hadn't given an answer in that moment. The bluntness of the query giving him pause at the time. The voice asked him again. Lingered as he gave it no thought aside from forming the answer.
Another day, another battle, another attempt to hold the reward of victory between your fingertips until the next, which threatens to put you right back to square one. That one fight for success was the common link between every last faction BB-610 had been subjected to, like the galaxy’s most expensive hand-me-down. War is never going to stop. Of course, it isn’t an astromech’s job to ponder the moral quandaries of the universe. He’s been around longer than most to know that.
So it isn’t a surprise, really, when he sees troop after troop scurry into their starfighters, a loud cacophony of voices screaming orders and shouting in fear. As BB-610 watches idly, he can’t help but notice the plentiful amount of astromechs loyally pursuing their owners into their vessels.
Well, he narrows his optic. It’s reassuring that they’re at least taken seriously when their role as disposable tools is ready. The droid lets out a metallic scoff, and turns to take his leave. He hadn’t been assigned a partner, after all. This mission was of no concern to him. As footsteps thud against the cold floor beneath him, BB-610 can’t help but notice the underlying bitterness in his system. It isn’t an astromech’s job to be bitter.
Oh, but he knows what the mission is about. When you’re just a droid, it’s not like people care about you overhearing their discussions. He’s present at briefings, and his pattern recognition software lets him know when a new mission is up due to the look of fear, masked by determination, painted on the faces of those around him.
The low whirring of his motors come to a halt when he notices the ship in front of him.
His old Delta-7B. The vessel he’d used to travel the galaxy following his abandonment. It had been refurbished and cleaned, given a bright new makeover. But more importantly, it was… his and Bella’s. As the droid rolls up to it, he lets out a soft coo, eyeing its features as if he hadn’t already memorized every inch of it five times over.
His first invasion. His first battle. His first real partner. As BB-610 overhears the revving up of distant engines, he reminisces. Of how dangerous it was, of how Bella hated him upon him being assigned to her. Of how scared he was to be abandoned again. Of how, eventually, they trusted each other.
People would always look at him and dismiss him immediately. He’s just a droid, he’s just an astromech. He wouldn’t be capable of handling himself. When he was given a role during the invasion of Byss, he was assigned to one of the best pilots he’d ever seen. He wasn’t really helping. He was just a back-up plan.
It wasn’t an astromech’s job to overthink its role in life.
But he doesn’t care. BB-610 rolls back an inch, one of the panels on his tool-bay disks opening to fire a grappling hook onto the side of the ship. With a firm swing, the droid flung himself into the air and landed perfectly within the Delta-7B’s astromech slot.
He spent every day taking care of this ship, but he hadn't had the chance to take it for a spin in so long. The comfort of it, how right it felt to be using it once again. Partner or not, BB-610 was an astromech. He was built for flying. If people wanted to look at him just for his programming, then who was he to judge? Piloting’s been in his code from the very second he was manufactured.
As the ship’s navigational computer linked itself to his systems, he felt a fierce determination that most would consider too unhealthy for an astromech. A result from years and years without memory wipes, and a result that he’d kill to keep. Almost like it was second nature, BB-610 had run diagnostics, and upon the confirmation that all systems were operational, he felt the reassuring hum of the Delta-7B’s engines burn to life.
Twirling his head to glance at the empty pilot’s seat, BB-610 chirped quietly. ' Godspeed. ' And without any assignment, without any orders, the ship swiftly navigated its way out of the hangar bay, speeding past the remaining vessels. Internal temperatures lowering as he inched closer to the empty space, BB-610 plotted the coordinates, and calculated a jump to hyperspace.
In a matter of 1.265 seconds, the Delta-7B had met up with the primary fleet, and had engaged in a fight against the Ssi-Ruuk, and a fight against his better judgement.
Kalic sat in the Dragonsnake's hanger, looking at the interceptor before him. Hey eyed his astromech, Jee, as he looked at them, just surprised at what he was looking at.
"Remind me at ask Rabbit how in the karking galaxy we got our hands on these." Kalic would pat the side of the "Ghost" interceptor before sliding on his helmet and climbing up. He watched a Jee nestled in the small astromech slot. He took a breath, looking out and quickly flipping some switches.
"So you all know the mission right? We protect the evac ships. I hear that any of you decide to fly like hot shots and I'll personally make sure you're working on the vactubes for a month." Kalic watched the hanger director, waiting for the mark. The the small fleet and evec ships left hyperspace, and the flight director gave them the signal. The Miraluka smirked before shooting the interceptor forward, having adjusted the engines for speed at the moment. He would quickly begin to mingle within the evac ships as he called out.
"This is Neebray Leader, watch yourselves. Evac fleet get planet side now!" Kalic looked at the shear number of enemy warships. This would be a rough fight to say the least.
Anashja Tal kneeled on the outcrop in front of three other Tal warriors, clad in white with the hand of Tal emblazoned on their chest. These were intiates, but they were still Mandolorians, they were strong, heavily armed and armoured.
"So my brothers and sister, we will move on this palace," and she drew a symbol in the dirt on the ground. "We will fly in from the North. My birds tell me the Empress is already there, and we await her communication. She is a wildcard in most situations, but she is strong and if her words are true then this will be a great day."
<< This is the Red Witch! I found a secret entrance, which leads behind the shields, to the palace. Which method do we choose? Siege or a silent, sneaky solution? >>
Replying, also in Mando'a "Red Witch, this as Anashja of Tal, we hear you, we are a moments flight from your location. A bloodless result from this would be optimal." She hoped that is what the Empress meant by silent and sneaky. They could try and simply over run the palace, but it was a large structure and well defended. "My family is ready to move at your command, if you can remove their shield, this will be easier, but if we can drop without detection, then we can achieve our results without loss of life."
Would she be judged harshly for preferring non violence? Anashja had had her nerve questioned before, a young female foundling that avoided bloodshed and worked the force, not very mando is it? Well that man was wrong, and now he is dead for it. Anashja and her team had the souls of the mandalorians but the compassion of the Tal.
She looked up at her family, "we will be moving soon, final checks on all your weapons, we need this information and we will get it."
She stood up and examined her own gear, and then stopped to meditate, centering herself for the action to come.
She glanced at the droid that appeared, due to her helmet her ice-cold gaze did not show. She didn’t destroy this droid only because of Xiphos when it sounded without permission. For a moment she felt a strong urge to grimace, and to contempt appear on her face, but she suppressed it all. Ingrid could not afford this luxury.
"This is not my operation, but that of the Mandalorians. In the next case, you can speak when someone asks you; you cannot have any independent action other than that ordered and authorized by members of the Tal or Mortui clan." she said in an ice-cold voice.
This behaviour stemmed from her upbringing, not accepting any droids with independent action or independent character. It was a sign of weakness. A droid is an object, a device, not a friend, lover, or family member. She then received a message from a Tal member. Why did everyone believe she was the commander? She was the Empress, but that was not about her today. Today, Ingrid had to prove it to her new Allies, not the other way around.
<< Today, I am not the commander, and I am not giving any orders, I just make suggestions. The Mandalorians are in charge! I was just asking what you want. >> she said in Mando'a; it was the best way to prove that she really took the alliance between their peoples seriously.
According to these, none of Alors had arrived or the briefing was incomplete.
//OOC: Sorry, this is totally not personal, just Ingrid came from a society, where they treat the droids only as assets/objects. If she shows any other behavior, it is a despicable act. :$ //
A warlord, hidden away upon this planet, with a reserve of beskar stolen from the Mando'ade. Certainly a target to be despised and killed, to be hunted down and shot for said crimes. At least in this regard, the alliance with the Eternals had been fruitful, though it remained to be seen if Ingrid would hold fully to her word. To that end, Adenn had agreed to go there and join this outing. Under other circumstances, he'd go with his clan to take the beskar back. Now though, now would be an excellent opportunity to see just what the Empress could do.
Coming to the agreed upon rendezvous, Adenn arrives via jetpack, landing some distance away from both present already. Next to him arrives Gunner, his second in command. Where Adenn removes his helmet, holding it under his left arm, Gunner keeps his on, even as both hold their personal weapons loosely. Clearly they were ready for anything, evidenced by the arsenal of weaponry both had. Nodding to Ingrid, Adenn glanced at Lyssa for a moment, quirking an eyebrow in curiosity, before focusing on Ingrid and speaking in Galactic Basic.
"We do not currently have the numbers or firepower for a siege, as my clan has not come with me. So we shall take the more subtle approach. I've been informed that's your specialty, so this shall be a good way to see your capabilities."
Raising his arm, Adenn spoke into his comms device, speaking in Mando'a to Anashja and her group.
"Verd'ika, join us as you can. We'll be taking the quiet option, though we may need to go fast and hard should the need arise. Hope for the best, prepare for the worst after all. Vode an."
Lowering his arm, Adenn returned his gaze to Ingrid.
"Lead on."
Raising his helmet, Adenn slid the skull helm on in one swift motion. Once more he appeared every bit the vissage of death that he was, even as he hefted E'care into both hands. Currently it was in rifle mode, loaded with gargaru slugs. While Anshja and her fellows were less likely to kill, Adenn held no such reservations. Though he fully respected their commitment and healing abilities, he also knew violence was often the only solution. So it was good he knew it well. Glancing towards the palace, Adenn would only wait for Ingrid to lead before following immediately. It was time to get this thief.
<< Today, I am not the commander, and I am not giving any orders, I just make suggestions. The Mandalorians are in charge! I was just asking what you want. >>
Anashja smiled, and spoke back into her communicator.
"We thank you for your assistance in this matter"
She was about to give instruction. She hesitated, it something that she wasn't sure she felt comfortable doing, being of no rank herself comparatively. She should wait for one of the clan Alor, but time was of the essence. She was about to speak again when her comm reopened.
"Verd'ika, join us as you can. We'll be taking the quiet option, though we may need to go fast and hard should the need arise. Hope for the best, prepare for the worst after all. Vode an."
"My vod and I are launching now," and she nodded to her team who each launched into the air. "We are four miles out but will be with you momentarily, coming in fast and low from South of your position to avoid detection."
She then activated her own repulsors, quickly catching the other three up. Flight telemetry flashed across her eyes as she flew, they stayed as low as they dared flashing in and out of the tree coverage. Within less than a minute they had arrives at the rendezvous.
Anashja bowed respectfully at both the Alor leading the mission and at the Empress.
Location: Aboard U-416 heading towards Observation Post Equipment: Jackal ACR, Sk-RS Mk. IV, two fragmentation grenades, four flash bangs, lightsaber (concealed) Objective: Dark Rumors Mission: Board station, secure station, ensure SAR parties and Recovery teams can accomplish follow on
Damian would stand at the ready with the rest of his platoon in the shuttle as it jostled lightly going through space. His rifle was at carried at a position of at ease, the men beside him standing quiet, not a sound amongst them. Joining the Ultranauts had been relatively easy with his prior experience in the Sith. Proving his capabilities, his loyalty, and unflinching discipline. Here he was no one. A faceless trooper, a number, a mask and breathing apparatus that made them all look alike. To stand as one.
Except for one thing of course
The thing hidden on his person was the only thing that would make him feel apart, and the voice in his head reminding him. Oh how he wished it would just be quiet for five minutes. Five, peaceful, minutes.
I wonder how many of them would gun you down without a second thought if they knew? How many of them would you kill to survive? Hehehehehe such suspicious creatures you mortals. How I love watching them.
Damian's only tell would be covered by his mask at the slight annoyance, and that was he closed his eyes for a little while. Otherwise he stood stock still, body poised and ready for the possible assault to happen. He wasn't a captain here, not even a sergeant. He was just another grunt. While it didn't serve his other objective, here he could possibly at least prove himself. Maybe catch the Empress's eye again. If she was even aware of his presence in the Empire Eternal. He knew he needed more proper training, but now he had to focus. They had been briefed. They knew to expect anything, including nothing left. He knew...
Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah..... again with this planning schtick, when are you going to accept that there's no possible way to plan for everything?
It's not about planning for everything. It's about having preset options to fall back on to minimize time spent loitering.
Uh huh, suuuuure. And I'll bet just like your current idea of learning from someone here in the Empire is going?
Doesn't change this was the best option.
Hehehe, someday you'll realize you'll have to go to me to figure out this gift you've been given. It would be so easy, so much power, knowledge.... you could kill all of your enemies with a thought.
And then what? Revenge won't bring back what we had.
Oh? Tell that to the people back home.
The last phrase would sting a little. The voice knew it had struck a nerve with it and would let an evil cackle ring between his ears. He hoped they arrived soon. He needed a distraction from its talking.
The sniper made her presence known in a shimmer of flickering light, unveiling her tiny, lightly-armored form from thin air as she pulled a large, anti-matériel rifle from its magnetic strip on her back. Having already assessed much of the team, Ivixa was somewhat surprised to see the lack of large numbers or heavy firepower. Naturally, this would necessitate the subtle approach, but it wouldn’t preclude Ivixa from neutralizing her own targets and pursuing her own objectives within the compound, as her rank meant that almost no one could really tell her otherwise, save for the Red Witch.
Of those in the team, Ivixa took particular note of Lyssa Io
, a Sub-Matriarch of House Io. Having studied many of the intelligence files on the mysterious, militarized family network, Ivixa immediately knew that Lyssa was a hyper-lethal asset, bordering on impossible to kill as her nanites allowed her to travel virtually anywhere and she could form her body itself into a weapon.
It was why Ivixa cringed at hearing the Red Witch command her.
<"Empress, may I speak freely?”> Ivixa said in High Nelvaanian to the Empres, her voice rendered silent to the others by her helmet’s integrated sonic neutralizer, save for the intended recipient of her tight beam transmission.
If she received the Empress’ permission, the Asa’nyx would speak.
<"I would advise against treating our House Io allies in that manner, even if they are technically droids. She is a full citizen under their system, with all the rights and privileges associated with that. They are not simply battle droids, but soldier droids.”> She said in semi-broken speech, though her High Nelvaanian had been improving of late. <"With your permission, I would like to serve as her escort, Empress.”> The Special Agent offered, in part not wanting to miss the opportunity to see such a deadly in action with her own eyes.
Then, the tiny sniper shifted her attention to the Mortui Alor.
“Blackwatch Special Agent Rominaria Seven, reporting. I am at your command, Alor.”
Please feel free to DM yourself. This post is merely to get the fleeters who were at the rendesvous point into the battle. We can post again if needed or requested, but we do not need to dm all objectives. Have fun!
Admiral Vikaander’s communications officers responded to the hails of both Rear Admiral Sicarus and Admiral Tolsen with hails of greeting. After the three contingents organized into a loose formation, the Admiral’s voice chimed over the open frequency between the three flagships in his austere High Nelvaanian: ”Today, we are more than just a well oiled war machine. Today, we defend our homeland. We are it - we are the hammer which shall strike at the enemy’s rear to hopefully staunch their advance onward. If we succeed, our forces at the homefront will gain the respite they need to push forth to our aid. If we fail, we may meet the same fate as the First Order previous to our glorious Empire. We shall not fail.”
The Admiral’s words were firm, laced with a resolve that was infectious even through the comm frequency before it closed. The ships of the Eternal Fleet would sync their hyperdives with the Admiral’s flagship - a formidable battlecruiser with enough firepower to dwarf most other ships which existed in this sector of space. The timer started, inexorably diminishing to zero which harkened the translation to lightspeed of scores of Eternal Fleet warships. They had positioned themselves with intent, which meant that the trip in lightspeed was rather short - nary an hour or so at most. The Imperial Taskforce emerged from lightspeed and immediately were in the thick of the action, as Rear Admiral Lagrange’s fleet had shortly prior began engaging the Ssi-Ruuvi fleet, along with a long-lost ally in Admiral Lindzisnky. While under normal circumstances, the full might each of these admirals could marshal would subjugate even the most stubborn of sectors, a combination of their rushed contingent of forces coupled with the sheer magnitude of the alien race’s rear guard would equate to a metaphorical uphill battle.
Nearly a dozen Shree-class Battle Cruisers advanced upon the Eternal Empire’s position, supported by nearly five times the amount of Wurrif-class Light Cruisers and ten times as many Fw’Sen-class Picket Ships, advancing with deadly intent upon the ambushing enemy. The nucleus of the fleet however, was six Sh’ner-class Planetary Assault Carriers, remaining to the back of the formation with its bulbous form hungry for the souls of the Eternal Fleet’s honored dead. Hundreds of drones emerged from within the bowels of their hangar bays, intent on harrying the Etnernal Fleet as it advanced. The sheer horror of the composition of the Ssi-Ruuvi fleet would not be fully realized until Imperial sensors noted the exact armaments of the alien ships. They contained ranged ordnance, and plenty of it to be sure, but keen tactical officers would note that the majority of their armaments focused not on destruction, but on disabling enemy ships - much like how a Veractyl likes to disable its prey before feasting upon its flesh. With the protruding dorsal sections of the ships, as well as the a plethora of tractor beams would soon reveal that the Ssi-Ruuvi were intent on capturing as many Eternal vessels as possible for their own nefarious ends.
The Fleet hardly had time to shrink in fear before the Admiral’s voice bellowed again across all channels: ”All admirals, weapons live. Do not allow your ships to be caught out of formation, lest they be feasted upon like carrion. We must survive this day, and we must break them here!”
