Chapter Two

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As the forum auto-splits topics every 50 pages, the next topics will be named further chapters accordingly. This is chapter two, guys, KEEP IT UP!

Post.
POST.
POST!

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Reeds just kept on whistling as guards and crew cleared out of his path. Eventually, he stopped at a door, the label addressing it as 'Science Lab 2A.' He smiled as he opened the door and Lae saw that the science lab was not small by any means. It was massive, in fact, taking up at least five rooms and two floors entirely on its own. It also seemed to host a massive range of equipment, some of which were entirely foreign to him. With all of the technology, equipment, and stores here, one could only wonder what Reeds' intention was with this lab.

He rolled the cart up next to two others and then proceeded to rummage around for a datapad. "Sit down, my fine lab rat." He said friendly still as he finally found his desired object, turning it own and turning toward Lae, a mischievous grin on his face.

--Yaga system--

*the dreadnoughts' bay door opens to accept the shuttle Slavik and a group of officers await the shuttle.*

Quantum Rain wrote:

Leon frowns underneath the cover of his helmet then runs up to see what it was that the Lieutenant seemed to be confused about. In his mind, that feeling persisted, but it was pushed aside in the name of curiosity... not likely for the better, either.

/Uknown|Unknown System|Unknown Region\

"Well, it appears we've found our herd, and possibly what's... left of the natives as well. What do you make of them?" Lieutenant Engel said with a noticeable tremble in her voicing, having done a passing hand motion across the plane of view, toward a shambling mass of creatures.

Roach wrote:--Yaga system--

*the dreadnoughts' bay door opens to accept the shuttle Slavik and a group of officers await the shuttle.*

/Yaga System|Prefsbelt Sector\

After the shuttle touches down in the hangar bay of the dreadnought, the ramp lowers and a trio of men descend. One is dressed in the crisp grey garb of an Imperial Navy Captain and he is flanked by two Imperial Navy Troopers. Once they have disembarked fully and are the presence of Slavik's group, the captain assumes a relaxed but formal stance, while the troopers remain at attention. The captain appears to observe the assembled group briefly before speaking, it is notably the same voice as the one from the hail albeit significantly less gruff "Greetings, I am Captain Orto of the Imperial Navy, I have been authorized by the Moff Council and the Grand Admiral to speak on behalf of the Empire in minor dealings. I apologize for the earlier gruffness, but it was protocol, you understand I hope. Regardless, let us get to business: you mentioned that your Federation had trade proposals to discuss?"

/Unknown|Unknown System|Unknown Region\

Leon looks ahead of them to see the same mass of creatures. "What in the third Kaiser's name is this...?" He speaks out of disbelief. "They look like abominations from a reactor waste dump, and this is from a distance, ma'am." He states, barely remembering to acknowledge rank at the end of his sentence.

--Pheiros Constellation, Durana System--

Maliorax: ...[censored]. I really hope Primarch Nocturna knows what she's doing. Have we got a lead on those slippery Blackwatch bastards?

Sensors Officer: Yes, sir, we've tracked them to the Argos Rho Cluster. They're heading for the Gorgon System.

Maliorax: And from there, to the Apien Crest...alright, engage the new FTL drives! Time to catch us some Blackwatch!

*The War Faction fleet blasts into FTL, ignoring the Mass Relay entirely.*

--Argos Rho Cluster, Gorgon System--

*The two Blackwatch ships arrive at Gorgon's edge, their stealthy systems deactivated so they can hurry as quickly as possible to the relay.*

Nihlus: Let's make it quick. I have a bad feeling about this...

*They hurry towards the relay, and all goes well at first, but then suddenly the War Faction's fleet drops out of FTL--right on top of them.*

Nihlus: What the hell?!

Crewman: Sir, the other ships are powering up weapons!

Nihlus: [censored]!! Evasive maneuvers and assume hostile! Full burn for the relay, everyone!

*The Blackwatch ships take off, pursued by fighters, drones, and missiles from the War Faction vessels. It quickly becomes clear that they will not reach the relay in time. The other Blackwatch ship suddenly attempts to race ahead, only to take a crippling blow that leaves it dead in the water.*

Blackwatch captain: Get out of here, Lieutenant! NOW! We'll try and delay them!

Nihlus: ...yes, sir. Go with the spirit of Palaven. To the relay, everyone, this is it!!

*The crippled turian vessel shoots down many fighters, drones, and missiles as they fly by with its GARDIAN arrays, managing to buy enough time for its fellow ship to enter the Mass Relay and escape.*

Maliorax: ...[censored]. Destroy that ship and capture any survivors. And send a message to our operative on Palaven--execute Plan Beta.

*The damaged Blackwatch vessel fights valiantly, but quickly falls to the War Faction's pounding and explodes.*

--Palaven, Cipritine--

*Two guards stand vigilant outside Tiamat's room in the Primarch Forum. A turian approaches with a tray, and they stop him.*

Guard 1: State your business.

Brutix: Dropping off some levo food for Her Majesty, sir.

Guard 2: Go on in, then, but make it quick. *He presses a button on the rather large door, and it opens to admit the turian with the food. The room inside is large and spacious as befits the occupant, with a magnificent view of Cipritine outside. Tiamat stands motionless at the window, seemingly enjoying the view.*

*Brutix places the food in the usual spot, but instead of leaving, he quietly draws a pistol from inside his jacket and points it at the queen. She turns at the all-too-familiar sound of a gun being cocked.*

Tiamat: What--

Brutix: Don't talk. Listen. You can't call for help, either. *Sure enough, the queen finds her telepathy blocked.* Now, if you want to live and to see your precious frigates again, you'll do as I say. You're going to come with me to Ambassador Fields's room and you're going to kill him. If you don't cooperate, I will shoot you, your ships will die, and your people will go extinct.

*Shocked, Tiamat begins to walk towards the door, feeling the gun barrel pressed against her back. Then, before she opens it, the turian puts his gun away to conceal it, and she make her move.*

*She whips her tentacle around, smashing Brutix in the face and sending him flying across the room. Before he can recover, she pounces on top of him and pins him to the floor with her primary limbs. The turian tries to call out, but she stuffs her other tentacle into his mouth, gagging him. She yanks his gun out of his jacket, throws it away, and then rifles through his pockets with her secondary limbs. She soon finds a seemingly-innocent device and smashes it, restoring her telepathy. She immediately contacts both Fedorian and Fields.*

Tiamat: Fedorian, Mr. Fields, you must come at once. Something has happened.

Fedorian: Strange. Let's go, Ambassador. *He leads Fields through the corridors of the Forum and they enter Tiamat's room. The sight stops him cold.* What in the Spirits is this?!

*Tiamat gestures to her prisoner.* Tiamat: This turian attempted to make me kill Ambassador Fields. He threatened to send my people back to The Great Silence if I did not cooperate. Thankfully, he underestimated my power.

*Fedorian seems doubtful.* Fedorian: Please, your Majesty, let him speak for himself.

*She complies, withdrawing her tentacle from his mouth. Brutix coughs and then lashes out with venom.* Brutix: She's lying. I just came to bring her meal for the day and she went berserk.

Fedorian: Really, Brutix? Then why did she call us here? And what, pray tell, are these? *He holds up the gun and the now-crushed device. The turian clamps his mouth shut. Tiamat then projects images of what had transpired into Fedorian and Field's minds.* I see. Thank you, your Grace. Guards!

*The guards rush into the room.* Guard 2: Sir?

Fedorian: Take this man away. He's charged with attempted coercion of a diplomatic guest and conspiracy to murder another.

Guard 1: Yes, sir. *Tiamat lets Brutix up, and he is led away by the guards, glaring hatred back at her.*

Fedorian: This is very troubling, to put it mildly. I'm quite certain he wasn't acting alone, but who he was with is another matter entirely. Do you have any ideas, Ambassador Fields?

Kathol Planetary Orbit, Kathol Sector, Outer Rim Territories: 3 Days before Launch

Well, the Lieutenant noted, progress had been swift.

It hadn't taken long for the engineers and lab boys to turn the ancient thing on. Even more astounding, it was fully operational and capable of use. The Commander had been almost cheering when he heard the news.

Then, the scientists came to tell him the rest.

The Commander had almost been furious when they told him about the gate. "Sir, please calm down. I know you're upset, but that won't change anything." Spoke the Head Researcher, Felix Fruehauf. Rebekka thought he looked a bit like a mad scientist, from a holo-novel. The typical goggles, white lab coat, and messy hair did nothing to reduce this image, to her or the crew. "Calm down, Felix? You're telling me that that 'Ancient and Powerful' hyperspace gate can only launch a single ship at a time?! Is this a joke?"

Felix Fruehauf didn't budge, having endured worse in his time with the Commander. "No, it certainly isn't. We estimate it can safely launch, at most, five cruiser designated ships per day, once it reaches optimum firing pattern. By our estimates, it's mean to send colony ships to other-" He is quickly cut off by the Commander, anger in his voice rising.

"Colony ships?!" The Commander stood up, his face almost red. "Well, isn't that perfect. We found the most useless ancient device in history-" Now it was the Head Researcher's turn.

"If I might finish?" He asked, waiting. The Commander, stunned, sits, awaiting the moment, partly stupefied and partly embarrassed. "Thank you, sir. Now then, as I was saying..." He turns to the holo-imager, turning it on. Before them was an image of their home galaxy. "The gate can launch ships-" He says, pointing to Kathol, and slowly leading away, past the rim. The map expands slowly, the trajectory of the gate moving farther and farther into the black, until it stops at another, spinning disk. "-to this galaxy." He stops, awaiting everyone's reaction.

Everyone in the room was speechless, except Felix, who sported a grin no one should have a right have on their face. The Commander spoke first, finding the words. "Excuse me, Head Researcher, I must contact my... Superiors." And then he was gone, vanished to talk to Command.

That was two days ago, Rebekka thought. Here she was, overseeing the most dangerous expedition ever undertaken in her life. Five days, she read on the clock. Five days, six hours, twenty-seven minutes, eight seconds.

Until Armageddon.

--Palaven--

Fields is silent, mulling through the implanted scenes and memories by the Queen. His eyes were closed in concentration. "... Wait... wait wait wait..." He said, opening his eyes in a sudden hurry. "He blocked your telepathy again? In person? How is that even possible for your kind, Primarch? Surely, it's possible to develop such tech on a ship, but to translate it to a device meant to be held on one's person? ...and in such a short time of knowing the Rachni's existence? Forgive me if I'm being arrogant, but that is just not possible. And he admitted to holding the Rachni vessels too, so we know for certain now who is responsible, even if it isn't admissible evidence."

~Alba~

"On the subject of the Primitus, there are several words in our language that clearly do not fit. Take the name of our people, for instance: Gal'Gai. We never conjoin words in Alska, rather, we put them into one long word, this is how we get our number system: by stacking number words on each other." Norrmar explains. "For example, our word for 224: Svöhundrethtuttugu okk fjör. Literally meaning 'two-hundred-twenty and four'."

~Fey Systäm, Lakunije Klustr, Kindonn Konstelazion~

"My name is Viljelm Jån Thorsson, Villi for short. I am currently adrift in my starship, Heldiggur Einann along with my fellow crew members Täron Mardon Kavinnsson (Tärö), and Asla Helgwi Julvinnarsdåttir. (Although she prefers to spell it "daatir") Even though we are in the Fey system, which is highly populated, we are stuck in drifting in a tidal lock with the dark side of Fey's moon. Our ship is completely dead, so no scanners will pick us up, and it is highly unlikely that anyone will see us. We are stuck here purely by bad luck, which is ironic, since our ship's name translates to "The Lucky One". Sorga...

If anyone hears this transmission, please, come and pick us up. We have about a month's supply of air left, due to there only being three people on a 10-person ship. We also have food and drink, but eventually it will run out.

Yaga Minor---

Slavik: Yes believe it or not running freight from our galaxy to here is not longer very difficult. We have many things to offer food stuffs precious metals weapon all of witch we would be happy to trade.

--Balmorra--

Praetorius: Perhaps, Admiral, but I'm not so sure. Possible traitors they may be, the War Faction are still turians, and they'd never trust the custody of such valuable prisoners to anyone but themselves. I'd certainly never hand over prisoners like that to someone else. Let's scan the last world.

*The scan turns up fruitless, once again.* Dammit. Alright, all ships set a course back for Palaven. We'll report to Primarch Fedorian and see if the other squad turned up anything useful. Will you accompany us, Balmorra?

--Alba--

Addrson: Is that your sole evidence of the Primitus's meddling, High Senator?

--Palaven--

Fedorian: I don't even know who he was with, though I strongly suspect the War Faction. I'll run a background check on him while he's in prison. But what's this? *He picks up the smashed device.*

Tiamat: That is the steel imp that blocked our Singing.

Fedorian: Excellent! Ambassador, there's not much left of this thing, but can you make something of it? *He hands it to Fields.*

5 months later…

“The tests results are quite impressive so far, no?” the large man says
“Oh yes, quite impressive, but much work is left before completion” the small man says
“I agree entirely, the steady growth shall allow for fewer variations on the overall progress chart”
“Including mental stability”
“Or even more important mi-“

Caruk and Hiltz enter the room
“I trust you two have completed Baroms’ training?”
The two men both knew better than to say no
“I’ll take that as a yes; well let’s see him”

“We’ll bring him up right away” both men say at the same time
It was a five minute lapse before Barom appeared with both the men. His long silverish hair hadn’t been cut since it started growing; his lean and long muscles were like twigs in his medical gown

“Hiltz” Caruk addresses as he moves to a large over-watch podem which the two men quickly follow onto.

Hiltz closes his eyes, nods his head and sighs the words “I understand” his fate rests with Caruks’ mercy, or amusement. Barom is intrigued, for he has not seen this before. He has not seen this emotion, or any. Hiltz puts a hand on his blade; Barom is still processing the idea of emotions. Hiltz draws his black sword, made of a very specific carbon molecular arrangement that is decorated with a pink blur on the blade: a fusion cutter, able to cut through anything with a melting temperature under 7000 Celsius. His boots mechanically transform into the shape of a cheetahs leg providing a tremendous boost to speed.

The discomfort Hiltz previously faced turns into a concentrated rage. He charges, with intent to kill. The scientists have the same discomfort that Hiltz previously had, for the same reasons, for Baroms’ fate is tied with theirs…

Fore Admiral Disayle wrote:
--Palaven--

Fedorian: I don't even know who he was with, though I strongly suspect the War Faction. I'll run a background check on him while he's in prison. But what's this? *He picks up the smashed device.*

Tiamat: That is the steel imp that blocked our Singing.

Fedorian: Excellent! Ambassador, there's not much left of this thing, but can you make something of it? *He hands it to Fields.*

"There's not much left to salvage, but I will see what our analysts think." He says, taking the device and tapping on his ear-comm. The device is transported elsewhere from Fields' hand. He taps the device again, an affirmation of something perhaps. "They sound eager. Should take them a half-hour to give us a detailed report, given the damage."

--Palaven--

*The surviving Blackwatch frigate blasts out of the Trebia system relay, trailing smoke and fire from several places on its hull. Wasting no time, it barrels toward Palaven and requisitions a berth for service, not having to go through most of the normal docking procedures. While the ship is tended, a shuttle leaves the berth and streaks down toward Cipritine.*

*Meanwhile, in the Primarch Forum, Fedorian nods at Fields's response.* Fedorian: I would have preferred it be kept here for a more thorough turian investigation, but I guess it's for the b--

*Suddenly something cuts him off. He reaches up to his own earpiece.* Lieutenant Kryik? ...very well, we'll meet you here. (to Fields and Tiamat) One of the Blackwatch squads has returned. They say they found something.

*A few minutes later, the shuttle arrives, dropping Nihlus off on the balcony outside the room. Fedorian lets him in, and shuts the door--only for the glass to shatter. Nihlus throws himself flat, while Fedorian tackles Fields to the ground. Tiamat huddles herself as low as possible. Nihlus immediately dials several commands into his omni-tool, and a low hum passes through the room, followed by a shimmer outside as its kinetic barriers power up. No further shots impact.*

Nihlus: Everyone alright?

Fedorian: Yep!

Tiamat: We are fine.

*Fedorian makes sure that Fields is okay, and helps him back up.* Fedorian: Sorry about that, Ambassador. I'll report this later--what have you got for me, Nihlus?

Nihlus: A lot, sir. *He tells them how the Blackwatch squad was impersonated and how his wing followed the liars to where they met with their benefactors, and plays back the intercepted transmissions between them. He angrily describes the chase across the galaxy resulting in the loss of a good ship and good turians.* I just hope the price for their lives was worth it, sir.

Fedorian: Don't worry, son, it will be. Well, Ambassador? Did anything in those transmissions ring a bell?

Fields was eerily silent as the color in his face seemed to dim. To Tiamat, there was a very deep concern running through him, with a slight tinge of fear even. "... That voice..." He finally muttered. "I know that voice..." He tapped his comm, and, with a more firm voice, spoke clearly into it.

"Captain, we have an incident. I have just recieved intelligence that Astrum Collective forces may be involved in Turian affairs. Get me an analysis on that device, check it for any known AC tech signatures. Then report back." He ordered, disconnecting. "... If it was the Astrum Collective that you saw, then it is a miracle that you made it back at all." He stated, that deep running worry still ever present.

Nihlus: Tell me about it. We had to trick them with "Wild Weasel" decoys to get away.

Fedorian: Ambassador, if you don't mind, I'd like to know more about this Astrum Collective. You mentioned them only in passing.

"And with good reason, Primarch. The Astrum Collective is a cultist separatist group from the Concord Union. What makes them different from any of us is that they made a hive mind with every being born in their controlled space. Furthermore, they are highly militaristic and very strong. In the last war, it was by a slim miracle that we bested them, and forced them into a demilitarization treaty. If their ships are present in your space, then they are in a direct violation of galactic law, are holding Rachni ships hostage, and are likely here to cause an uproar in your political structure." Fields explains, not at all enthusiastic. "If any of that is true, then this is not strictly a matter of Turian concern. The IS will get involved, whether I like it or not.... one can imagine the political repercussions in doing so, however."

Fedorian: You seem very certain that they have the Rachni ships. I don't doubt the evidence, but why wouldn't the War Faction be holding them along with the Rachni's prisoners themselves?

"The Astrum Collective wouldn't entrust all of their technology to a radical group, Primarch. I am very certain that they were the ones behind the kidnapping and containment of the Rachni ships, using the War Faction as a front and reason. If that's true, and if the analysis confirms it... a message must be sent out to IS command, and an assault fleet will be formed to hunt down and eliminate every last AC ship and soldier in this part of space, regardless of circumstance." Fields sounds even less enthusiastic. "Primarch, this simply isn't looking better than it was before."

*Fedorian catches on quickly.* Fedorian: This situation could very easily escalate to war. If we find that the assassin was with the War Faction, then we will charge their Primarchs and anyone else we can link to this conspiracy with high treason against the turian people. But if what you say is true, then it's likely the War Faction will not "come quietly", as the human saying goes. I fear the Hierarchy will face civil war. You're right, Ambassador. Things are looking very ugly indeed. *He activates his omni-tool.* Fedorian to Security. Run a background sweep on our would-be assassin. I want to know everything.

Security Office: Yes, sir!

*Meanwhile, Fields's mention of a hivemind has piqued Tiamat's interest.* Tiamat: A hivemind? They are joined in their Songs?

"Yes, the Astrum Collective is linked in a hive mind intelligence, but from what we have gathered on such, each person still has a voice and identity. It's most peculiar, and I'm not sure how it works... but it explains why you can't hear the songs of your ships, Queen. They would easily be capable of blocking it and subduing your ships if there are enough of them." Fields states, sighing to himself. He answers a comm message from the captain he spoke to earlier. He only listens and mutters yes every now and then. "I understand, thank you." He says, disconnecting. He sighs again, and it's obvious that it's not good news. He turns to the Primarch, silent for several moments.

"The captain reports that the object is in fact AC tech, although newer than our intelligence files predicted. As for its purpose, the damage is too extensive to be certain, but we'll have to take Tiamat's word that it blocks telepathic links for the moment until further data can be unveiled." He reports to Fedorian. "One wrong move on any of our parts and this could escalate to something worse than civil war, Primarch... If the IS fleet encounters any resistance, it will disable or remove it. If they misfire on the Rachni ships, it will cause an uproar. If they attack the Collective, it will cause a war in general. The Turians and the galaxy as a whole would be caught in a hellfire."

*Tiamat angrily lashes her tentacles.* Tiamat: Why do they work to Silence us forever? We have no quarrel with them.

Fedorian: If civil war looms, we have to find and extract those turian prisoners so they don't get caught in the crossfire. Given the intel at hand, it seems likely they're being held on a War Faction world. Nihlus, did your squad find anything that could have pointed you to their location?

Nihlus: None, sir. The others might have found something, but there's no way to know until they get back.

Fedorian: Very well. (to Fields) Ambassador, can't you explain the situation to your superiors so they don't make a mistake like that? I'd very much appreciate it if they would come here so we could coordinate a possible joint response to this infernal debacle.

Fields sighs at Tiamat's anger. "It's more likely that they don't even care about the Turians or the Rachni in general, and are just out to cause instability and war. Something to bait us into and fix with force."

He turns to the Primarch then, and sighs another time, thinking. "Military Command would choose the fastest route to eliminate the threat. An angry Turian race is better than an unstable one to them. And if I were to withhold this information, then I could be held for treason, and my subordinates as well, if they obeyed my command." He thinks even harder to himself. "... but I can buy us some time. Let's just say, hypothetically, that some saboteurs got aboard our ships and sabotaged them from the inside... and while we chased the enemy down with two, one was sent to command to report in... That would afford us a week or two at the most."

Hiltz charges: zig-zag pattern. Barom is as still as before. The scientists are nervous; this differs from how Barom acted in the simulations. The distance between the two shortens: 50 feet, 40, 30, 20 10. Hiltz changes his stance from a slashing position to a thrusting one, and springs forward: a fatal blow. Barom is hit, directly through the heart; the blade is more than halfway through the other side of Barom. The Scientists are stunned with fear. Their fate is tied with Baroms’.

Hiltz in the sheer ecstasy of being alive lets out a roar with tears in his eyes, a smile on his face, and both fists clenched. Caruk teleports to Hiltz’s side, facing the door.

“It’s time to go.” He says. There is no emotion.
A couple guards enter the room; they are the last humans the scientists will know before death claims their lives: the scientists are on their knees, and in tears, begging to Caruk like a god figure for their lives.

Barom; their neither blood-bound nor tied child, stands still. Lifeless. Hiltz would retrieve his sword, but his last master said once “when you kill a beast you’ve never seen and you know not whether it lives, you do not test its cunning and adversary to give it the chance to kill you with its final ouce of strength” Of course Hiltz doesn’t know whether it is his last ouce of strength…

As the guards ready the scientists, for a non-formal execution. They think: where did we go wrong? The formula was correct? The tests proved he was more than a trained killer, he was unmatchable, it would take half of Caruk’s forces to stall him for a day: The guns are cocked. The soldiers are elites, they have no care for the sins they will commit, and they are trusted enough to not question the procedure. As the scientists prepare their minds for death, they find it is easier to close their eyes, and do so…

Silence. No guns. No bang, crash, boom, ka-chunk, bzzap or rata-tat-tat, not even a pop.
They both open their eyes at around the same time, and are stunned, the guards lay in front of them. Headless! The cause of it wasn’t a blade, or a gun, nor laser too. They were ripped off.

Caruk and Hiltz turn around before they go to see the execution, and find the most troubling sight.
Barom. He stands, sword still well within chest; arms spread, a human head in each. His face is the same as when either thought dead or possibly when first decided to become deceased.

Hiltz is troubled. He has no blade, he knows not the strength of his opponent, or how much damage his blade did. He draws two small daggers, each about a foot and half long.

“I figured death itself would be harder kill than that…”
Caruk says nothing, but stays near the door.

Kathol Planetary Orbit, Kathol Sector, Outer Rim Territories: Zero Hour:

And so it happened, Rebekka thought, looking at her view screen. The final day was here. Launch Day.

The ship was full of people, running to and fro, gripping charts and equipment and preparing for the launch. No one knew what to expect on the other side, really. Oh, they figured they'd find something, at least another civilization. But whether or not it was hostile was an entire discussion of debate. As far as she, there were two plans.

The first plan, called the Rochow Plan, was for all intents and purposes an intelligence operation, the largest in the history of the M.N.I. and possibly the galaxy. It had involved nearly a week of preparation, along with the collaboration of dozens of companies, Imperial offices, and personnel. The end result would be, in her mind, the most authentic fake star system to ever exist. It was a plan only the most paranoid politicians could have, and did she reminded herself, come up with.

The second plan, called Operation Scheiss, would, in the event of discovery of an extremely hostile, and superior force, or the first plan being uncovered, require the immediate evacuation of all personnel and the destruction of the secondary gate (called Tor) with baradium based nuclear warheads.

So, she hoped, the first plan would work and there would be no nuclear explosions. She honestly did hope. Rebekka heard her name over the loudspeaker, and reported to the bridge, standing at attention while Commander Zanis barked orders. She smiled, thinking of no better man to lead the expedition. She glanced around, to see who else was here.

The most obvious man to note was the tech-priest. Standing nearly seven feet tall, most of his body was hidden by the red robes of his order. What wasn't hidden, to some discomfort to the others on the bridge, were the Mechadendrites that protruded out of his back along with the various tubes and wires that lead from his chest to his face mask. The man had not had much organic tissue in him left, and she knew at once he likely the Magos Dazrantha. If he was here, there would be more tech-priests as well.

The next man wore a uniform much like hers, but he had many more medals and was obviously a higher rank. Judging from the angry scowl he wore all the time, she could guess this was Captain Alexander Rued, a military fellow who would keep them safe and not hesitate to use Operation Schiess if needed.

The other man, a grizzled looking veteran of many battles, was likely the High Colonel Volkhad, of the 47th Marzeron Imperial Battlegroup. A tough, but calculating man, he had seen many battles and a war before his duty here.

The final newcomer on the bridge she could see was dressed in a rather civilian style, but not a trimmed suit like a businessman or in rich, vivid clothing like an aristocrat; they were simple, but rugged and worn with use. This would be Albert Thumm, the leader of the Marzeron Traders Guild, the main freight haulers and dealers in the Empire. A trader would be useful for the mission in more ways then one, she thought.

The Commander waved his hand, and the Lieutenant took her post. The others found seats on the bridge, talking amongst themselves or to their subordinates on the other vessels.

The other three ships accompanying them on this trip would be MNS Erretter; a Verteidiger class cruiser. It was a capable ship for it's size, with a flight of fighter craft and a decent speed, it made up for the short range plasma cannons.

The second ship was what had been deemed the MNS Angreifer, a salvaged ship from the newly conquered territories. Apparently of the Acclamator class, it had a sufficient crew and carrying capacity for the troops and personnel needed for the mission, most notably the 47th Battlegroup.

The third and final ship, if it could be called that, was also salvaged from the new territories. Records indicate it as a Field Secured Container Vessel, it would be the mass transport used to ferry the smaller ships to the next galaxy. That little bit of info had been decided once the scientists were unsure of the effects of that high speed travel would do to people, so the massive force fields would keep the ships safe during the travel. Deciding to test their luck, they even decided to use a third sphere to contain a massive amount of supplies and gear for setting up a base. Some might think them mad, and Rebekka was inclined to agree.

She watched the stars flicker and die on the view screen, and space turn blue. The force field was on. Confirmation from the other ships also indicated this. The clock began the countdown, and she silently made a prayer as she watched the clock counting down. Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one... Firing sequence initiated.

She got to see her home galaxy one last moment before the gate activated, focusing all of it's energy on the FSCV before launching it into hyperspace. Then it was gone.

Hiltz decides against the novice tactic: to attempt the same style of execution twice. So instead he circles Barom. After taking one step, Barom crushes the once living men’s’ skulls with his hands. Step two: he places his hands on the blade and withdraws the swords from his body. Step three: the wound heals, almost instantaneously. Step four: his body is covered in a series of black ribbon-like stands; they seem to replace his flesh. Step five, His body grows to an apex of about 8 feet. Hiltz is in position to perform the execution technique, and proceeds to do so. Baroms body twists around at amazing speed and slams his fore –arm against Hiltz, sending him into one of the eight large concrete support pillars in the building, the armor on his back and front side is slightly cracked where the blunt of the force hit, but the pillar is half gone.

“Quite the hit you got, can’t say I’ve felt one quite like it, but it’s certainly not the best hit I’ve had” Hiltz shouts getting up fairly slowly.

Barom looks at his fore-arm, there isn’t a scratch. He walks to Hiltz at an average pace.
Hiltz, drops the daggers, he knows he can only take maybe one more melee hit like that, before his armor is ruined and he is exposed.
He pulls out a large pistol; it’s a double barreled 50.cal, meant for skar-hunting, a rare game that was once the top of the food chain on Osana. 3 trigger clicks, 6 bullets, 1 mag. Emptied onto the face of Barom. He continues walking: same pace.
Hiltz fires a second mag, nothing. He has to either run or think. He chose to think... He found an answer. The quantum displacer: if it’s made from this realm, it will be hurt by it, its his only chance. He awaits the second hit from Barom, who graciously gifts it right when he’s expecting, Hiltz dodges. Baroms’ arm is lodged in the pillar. Barom notices the grenade, then a bright light all over the spectrum, then pain. Lots of pain. The quantum detonator causes a cascade of disruptive quantum particles of every variety; the grenade has a radius of about 7 feet. The result on human flesh was grotesque, the result on barom was similar; though not a lot of his body was exposed, the grenade managed to completely destroy his arm a upper right torso. Barom falls to his knees, blood and other various types of flesh human, not alike fall to the ground, though his mouth is covered in the ribbon material a low raspy grown is heard, like that of an old man on his death bed.

“I have this chance and only this chance” thought Hiltz
He cocked the gun and aimed pulled the trigger 3 times and readied his next round. No risks, no leverage room, no short-cuts, or humanity. As he was about to cock the gun, he noticed the silhouette of barom had changed. The ribbon materials had stopped the bullets, and were now covering his wounded right torso.

“He adapted; which means I have to find a different type of ranged technique, each time…but nothing can withstand quantum displacers. Nothing. Not even death itself.” thought Hiltz
He looked at his grenade belt: 4 quantum displacer grenades remained. He looked at Barom, already adapting to the loss of the torso.

“But I have to act fast. Very fast…” Hiltz thought to himself

Fore Admiral Disayle wrote:
--Alba--

Addrson: Is that your sole evidence of the Primitus's meddling, High Senator?

"Nje, Nje Hjergesend! We actually have quite a bit of evidence to suggest the existence of the Primitus, Thondarr's Wall being at the forefront. It was, and is, a functioning Primitus databank." Norrmar pauses to let the information sink in, then continues. "The wall was long thought to be of divine creation, specifically, from the single Gal'Gai god, Thondarr. This was because of it's distinctly non-Gal'Gai design and expert craftsmanship, of the like that we are just coming to replicate today."

"Discovered by early 1st Era Explorer Bjarni Jan Ronnaldssonar in an underground cave, the relic was left untouched because of it's supposed divine origin, which is good for us today, because it would likely not have survived otherwise. It was not until the 3rd Era that the famed scientist Viljelm cracked the mystery behind it. We can extrapolate that the Primitus were somewhat humanoid, or, at the very least, designed the wall for us because Viljelm just put his hand up to a hand-shaped receptacle, and the thing opened right up.

Since then, it's stayed open, and we've had a chance to view the inside, which is actually a giant data storage cache. The thing is bursting with Primitus tech, and we've only begun to scratch the surface, since we've only recently been able to translate the Primitus language. The Wall is covered in Primitus lettering and contains a definitive collection of base words, from which one can build upon to make new words. The language is actually based off of these root words, with most nouns and adjectives being literal summations of base-words that describe them. For instance, the word for "hill" is literally translated as 'up-ground'."

Once we translated the language, we started on the databanks. There is literally thousands of years worth of knowledge contained in the computers here, which are easily used by Gal'Gai and other humanoids, further supporting their humanoid physiology. We discovered the origins of Gal'Gai, and how we were spliced from the early Hiigarans to do work more labor-intensive than they could handle. We also learned about the Rebellion War. The only thing not mentioned in there were these, 'Progenitors' you speak of. It would seem logical, however, that if they were the 'good' versions of the Primitus, that the Primitus would place a taboo on the name and push it all under the rug."