Chapter 500 (1/2)

I have returned! - Admiral Juliet James Shanktow, Halfseed Nebula War, 7923

The system was one of the oldest in Lanaktallan Space. While not the first one settled, after all the genesis planet had been lost to the Precursor War, it was one of the oldest and thus the most prestigious. It had no cultural significance, because beyond pressing their hooves onto other being's faces, the Lanaktallan society really had no culture, viewing it as a waste of resources. It had very little military significance, beyond being known as the Unified Council World. It was prestigious simply because it was where all the Councils officially met, and the entire planet, from the farms to the fish hatcheries to the drones laboring before returning to their hovels, was tailored to ensure all members of the Councils, their cronies, hanger-ons, relatives, and those in favor dwelt in absolute luxury.

It was important simply because the Unified Civilized Species Council had commissioned a study that had lasted nearly 12,000 years, that determined that the system was important because the Lanaktallan politicians had decided it was important.

Even it's importance had not saved it from the creation of the Fourth Wave, which was supposed to completely destroy the Mad Lemurs of Terra in a carefully crafted ambush in a worthless star system. All but the system defense ships that were unable to reach jumpspace had been taken from the system. If it could have a weapon strapped to the hull, the great Fourth Armada, the second largest armada assembled in the last hundred million years, had taken it along.

In the last six months, since the fleet had departed, there had been nothing but silence.

Not from the various systems. Many of them were screaming for support, for assistance, for ANYONE to help them, please, for the love of all that was holy.

But the Council was forced to ignore it.

The only ships jumpspace in the Core Worlds were automated freighters, and most of those ignored commands and complained that they were overweight. More than a few had made the translation to jumpspace and vanished in a huff.

Atrekna Dwellerspawn were attacking a hundred worlds, Precursor Autonomous War Machines were attacking a thousand. Mantids, actual Mantids, were attacking two worlds after taking over four others.

There were no ships, no troops, to send to their aid.

The war machine of the Mad Lemurs of Terra had destroyed manufacturing worlds, storage worlds, military training worlds. There was nothing of military value that the lemur fleets had not swooped down upon and destroyed.

In some cases, destroying the whole system, or worse, leaving behind a system that looked as if the Lanaktallan and the Unified Council System had never discovered the worlds.

The politicians were frightened. They moved from work to home and little else. While the commoners moved about in confidence, even on the foggy nights, the politicians, industrialists, corporate overlords, and even the gangsters, moved about in fear.

The Night Terran stalked the streets, terrorizing an entire planet.

Rogue lemur 'digital sentiences' roamed GalNet, exposing secrets, ferreting out crimes and revealing them, shutting down military communications even as they flooded the civilian channels with Confederate entertainment.

The PAWM attacked the digital sentiences, the digital sentiences and their allies attacked back, leaving the edge of GalNet a scorched and barren wasteland.

Over the last two months the members of the Councils had begun blaming each other, not privately, not in private meetings, but publicly denouncing them.

The Herd Stallion and the Herd Matron moved among the populace, speaking treason against the Councils, but LawSec was too terrified to move against them. The Executor Corps hid in their buildings and armored vehicles, rarely going anywhere in less than platoon sized.

Even then entire platoons still vanished.

Some whispered it was the Herd Matron and the Herd Stallion. Others claimed there were lemur strike teams on the Council World itself. Still others blamed the Night Terran.

The entire system was gripped with fear.

News had come back that even if the Third Fleet had been successful, sent to attack TerraSol itself, it was a pyrric victory as the fleet would never return even if TerraSol was gone from the universe.

Even the news that the Terrans themselves, the Mad Lemurs of Terra, had suddenly become extinct was not enough to lift the pall of dread from the planet.

At first, there had been celebration from the Executor, Corporate, and Military Councils.

But the attacks had resumed within weeks, in some cases the fighting never paused.

The Confederacy was made up of equals, all doing their part, and when the Mad Lemurs of Terra had died off, there were allies who stepped into the gap. The Treana'ad War Hordes swept across the battlefields, the Mantid covert operations specialists wreaked havoc, the Rigellian Saurian Compact fleets still attacked, and now the Pubvian Fleets had joined the war.

Worse, the neo-sapients and rogue Lanaktallan military forces were trouncing the Military Council Forces virtually unopposed. Telkan naval vessels were joining the Confederate order of battle. The Telkan Marines were more effective than anyone in the Executor Corps could have ever guessed. The Shavashan Storm Marines had joined the fight, wielding nano-tech fueled magic and martial might. The Ikeekik aerospace corps swept Executor and Military aerospace vessels from any contested areas like a swoop-frog feasting on glow-gnats.

It was more than the military defeats that were weighing on the council. The Confederacy had turned entire stars in empty stellar systems into broadcast devices that spread the news and appearance of the worlds they had conquered, letting all in the Council territories see how those conquered by the Mad Lemurs of Terra had better lives beneath Confederate martial law than they had had beneath the boot of the Councils, the Overseers, the Executors.

The Empire had taken a hundred worlds and had begun taking more. The Mech Lords of Terra had somehow survived the extinction event and were assault a hundred worlds with their powerful warmeks. The Klingon and Romulan Empires had arrived, striking deeply into the Unified Council territories. The Battlestars of Galactica had begun taking world after world. The Cylon Collective had seized a dozen systems. The Cosmic Knights Council had smashed their way through everything in their path to take virtually every system in a small nebula.

Everywhere the Councils turned, they saw the smouldering wreckage of defeat after defeat on all fronts.

It just kept getting worse.

Even the contingency plan to send high ranking members of the Councils to other worlds to run their part of the vast Unified Civilized Species Space had collapsed as the Night Terran, or a facsimile thereof, had followed them.

And brought terror with it.

The Lanaktallan could feel it. Something they had not felt in their hundred and twenty million year history.

The hot breath of a predator on the back of their neck.

The system was defenseless, under constant attack from the Night Terran and his terrifying antics, the Herd Matron and the Herd Stallion spreading discontent and treason, and the rogue DS known only as Deus that was slowly taking over more and more of the Council World's computer systems.

Which is why, when the alarms went off of a massive force jumping in at the resonance zone, the members of the Unified Councils all panicked and fled to their panic rooms, their private shelters, and in some cases, ran home to be with loved ones or pack what they could into a carryall and run in circles screaming that they were all going to die.

More and more ships kept coming in. Dozens. Then scores. Then hundreds. Then thousands. Then tens of thousands.

Until nearly three million ships were at the resonance zone.

The Council World watched the news broadcasts nervously.

The fleet started to move in system. Their formation made it obvious that it was a military fleet.

But from who? was the question everyone asked.

Then the ID came in, moving with the arthritic slowness of radio waves.

The entire planet breathed a sigh of relief.

It was the Fourth Fleet. True, a third of it was missing, but it still represented millions of combat ships.

The Great Grand Super Most High of the the Unified Military Council demanded to know why the fleet had not moved in Confederate Space and attacked the defenseless worlds if they had, obviously, defeated the lemur ”Space Force.”

The ships simply spread through the system.

A few Lanaktallan, those with Nebula Steam achievements on their sashes, noted that the way the ships spread out, requesting docking at everything from resort stations to orbital facilities, seemed awfully suspicious.

The few that did try to warn anyone soon realized that nobody wanted to hear about their 'stupid lemur entertainment simulators' and that everyone ignored their warnings because they were more glad that the Fourth Fleet had returned.

It took nearly a week, but the ships of the Fourth Fleet finally came to rest in the high orbitals of planets, at stations, and at docking facilities.

The Unified Military Council demanded that Grand Most High Cu'udchu'ar of the Great Herd Fleet Defiant, immediately report to the Unified Military Council at the Unified Military Council building to answer questions put forth by the representatives of the Unified Military Council's Unified Military Investigative Council, which would have members of the Executor Military Council present.

The citizens of the Unified Council world had begun to relax, feel slightly jubilant, at the fact that the Great Herd Fleet Defiant must have defeated the Mad Lemurs of Terra.

Before the Unified Military Council Most High Representative of the Unified Civilized Species Military Forces could finish demanding that Grand Most High Cu'udchu'ar present himself, a roar echoed out across the system.

HEAVY METAL INCOMING! there roar came from every speakers, every flat surface, even the air itself.

Ships streaked into existence. Massive warships, their engines burning with terrible power, their shields at full power.

Not at the resonance zone.

Inside the resonance zone. Often only a few hundred miles from Grand Most High Cu'udchu'ar's ships of the Great Herd Fleet Defiant.

Those watching the transponders goggled with shock as the ID's for the ships switched from ”Great Herd Fleet Defiant” to ”Task Force Reaper” for all of Cu'udchu'ar's ships.

In less than two minutes the entire system was flooded with the ships of the Mad Lemurs of Terra.

Each group appeared with the standard roar that was repeated over and over and over again.

HEAVY METAL IS HERE!

On the surface the members of the Unified Military Council, of the Executor Military Council, of the Corporate Military Council, and even those of the Unified Law Enforcement Council, ran in circles screaming that everyone was going to die.

That Cu'udchu'ar had turned traitor was too much for even the Executors to handle. Their minds could not comprehend a being who had served loyally for over three hundred years turning traitor.

For the common person it was mixed feelings. It was well known that, unlike the Overseers, the Mad Lemurs of Terra sought to minimize civilian casualties. On the other hand, well, minimize didn't mean eliminate, and war was a stone cold bitch no matter how you rubbed her.