Fate of Terra - Rise of Empires

Chapter 4.2 - Rewrite

"Weapons armed and we're in position, Prime." His First Mate informed him, unaware of the rapid promotions landing at their feet. "The fleet is calling to our location. I've told them to alert all civilian traffic of the situation, they're transporting any and all craft towards us as we speak."

Raverjah nodded, not trusting his voice in the quiet of the bridge.

"Your orders?" Vzeih was no fool. He could sense the shift in the air.

"Open all internal Comm's." He told the woman gently.

"Sir?" Vzeih tried again.

The question remained silent, but her eyes pleaded for understanding. He grinned as best he could. It came out a near grimace. "The crew needs to know," He told her.

"Forger and Builder!" Vzeih gasped.

With ear twitching, Raverjah moved aside to give him a better look. "Indeed."

"But, this can't be right!" He spluttered.

"It probably isn't. Until we know any different, this is what we've got to act on."

"Channel open, Alpha-Prime."

"This is the Captain speaking." And there he paused. How could it be put into words? How should he tell it? The image of his daughter came to mind, and it was decided. Voice deep, commanding, soothing yet firm, "System Command has gone dark. As of this moment, and until a time we know otherwise, this ship is assuming control of all Felician Delegation forces."

The weight of their new ranks and positions fell upon each with the weight of loss. The air, so recently charged with nervous excitement, discharged with the shock. They were at war.

As the Machaera had raced towards the rally point, the Beacon Operator had left his Systems Scanner on. While they digested the moment, the Carrier held to geostation. The event horizon rotated with the planet, and with it, the Radial Beacon blipped a new ship.

"Sir, more ships incoming!" He called from the far side of the pilot.

Startled, the Pilot jerked, hissed, then registered the alarm. "Orders, Alpha-Prime?" The pilot asked, hands firmly on the thrusters.

"Designation?" Raverjah strode from his chair to stand over the RBO. Tense seconds ticked by as their Beacon did another system sweep. Before their own could finish its analysis, the information from a neighbouring, closer, vessel reached their screens. "Is that... Malmorian?"

"We're being hailed." The Comm's Officer didn't wait to be told. Three presses and the Haggard features of a Malmorian filled their screens.

"This is Alpha-Prime Raverjah of the Felician Home Guard, Hyacin of the CU Machaera. State your name and intentions."

"Oh thank the Gods!" The creature was visibly distraught, shaking with a sheen of fluid wetting their pasty features. "It's the B'Amuf! They attacked. We were returning to the Astroyard when they appeared!"

"Calm yourself citizen." Raverjah snapped. Through a clenched jaw and extreme clarity to his words, he asked; "Are you sure it was B'Amuf?"

"Yes! They swarmed everything. We were lucky to get away!"

"Show me the time to contact." It was done, the little icons pushing the fearful grey creature to a corner. The ship continued to plod towards their line, yet enemy vessels made themselves known at the Beacons range. 'Where in the Void are our ships?!' Raverjah searched the empty spaces where other Home Guard ships should have been. That was two Gods screwed Heavy Cruisers and their Destroyer escorts, missing.