The Spears of the Worthy (Trianarö-Calerost first contact)

[Flaming]

High Captain Alsatsö Êmanakas
9th of Lakreto, 222 AI, Hour 18
(27th of August, 308 BBT, 12:00 PM)
On the “Eastern” edge of Trianarö space

The Ikaranarean High Captain sighed, annoyed at his postings. It had only been around 50 years since the Hemmerhaldian War, although his career had not started until 30 years after then. When he was younger, he had always wanted to be an Izarattik, a war-priest of the Trianarö church, one that served in the Starfleet of the Gods, the fleet that was owned personally by the Izaren Azzum and held deep personal loyalty to the Imperö. The Izarattikai had deemed him unworthy. The level of discipline within the ranks of the Izaren Azzum had been too much for him and he simply didn’t make the cut. He was an officer of respectable rank in the regular military, however, and he was fine with this. What he was not fine was the Izaren Azzum getting to do all of the interesting work, shooting down the remnants of the Hemmerhaldian Empire and assisting the Intek Azzum in their education of the Hemmerhaldian populace. He was assigned to a border in which there were no known neighbors, with a Flagship and an under-fleet assigned to him. All this firepower and nothing to do with it.

He had been sent on the notion of ship readings. The High Admiralty, under orders of the Imperö, was to ensure that the readings were false, and so all colonization efforts in the region had been stopped. His fleet was at a stationary post, intel swarmers scouring the immediate area in search for any signs of activity. He sighed in his chair. He doubted there would be any activity- what alien, if they were there, would approach a 20 km flagship with 1600 other ships accompanying it?

[killermantiss]

…The anwser was a mad one, or a desperate one, and the miraline ware both.

Once threatening to exterminate the Edhelrim now they ware pushed to their own lands, lands which they held with a iron fist for a century uncontested. Not even their demigod-like physique and extensively aggressive and cruel battle tactics could save them from the war machine they shaped their creators into.

The miraline used the fact that they still had a small supremacy in navigating mirial space to send colony fleets everywhere they could with the hope of finding a weak empire to enslave and rebuild a powerbase in. Most of these fleets got intercepted and destroyed, but this one, numbering 1500 ships, didn’t, at least not yet. It was forced to exit mirial space to avoid the storm they used as cover hitting them as well as deep mirial radar, the invention which doomed almost all hopes for the colony project succeeding. It was dangerously close to major worlds and their supplies ware getting low, it had to move fast.

And then their radars picked up the Trianarö fleet. Pray. Sustenance. Empire. Slaves. In their beastly mind they had found a perfect target. Destroy this fleet and from their comms and starmaps they could find what they are searching for. The hegemony could find a place to hide.

They waited patiently for the fleet to approach as close as possible, using the stealth of their ships as a advantage. And when it did they sprung in action. Their engines roared up with terrifying power. Most species could not survive the g-force a burn like this would cause, but the miraline could. Approaching the fleet the ships enter a spin and release a massive barrage of torpedos, each ship basically emptying it’s magazine. They ware ambush predators, relying on shock to win battles easily. These tactics ware the exact reason Calerost had developed one of if not the best point defense system in the sector, there wasn’t a nother way to survive.

But the Miraline underestimated their pray. As for their whole history their hubris was making things more difficult for them. They couldn’t have imagined that they just attacked one of the most powerful militaries in the sector and that this won’t be a easy fight.

[Flaming]

The FTL sensors on the ships activated and across the entire fleet shields went on. Without the need for a command, hundreds of thousands of swarmers entered the space, providing screening and cover that enabled the Trianarö fleet to escape from the initial confrontation nearly unharmed. A Trianarö ship was a fortress more than a “boat,” and their defenses backed it up. It would be clear to these foolish aliens that Trianar was not a state to mess with.

A lesser commander of a fleet might panic, maybe even swear at a suprise attack of this magnitude. Êmanakas simply smirked. He would get his combat after all.

“All automatic systems nominal. No ships lost yet, although I suspect that with this many enemy ships that will not remain true for long. Should we call for reinforcements?” His Relay Officer said.

The HC thought for a moment. “Call for an Elite attack fleet to shadow the area and give chase in the event that we have to retreat. Also, make a direct link to Centrus so that the Imperö knows what is going on.”

the RO nodded. “As for our tactics, sir?” Êmanakas shrugged. “We know too little about our enemies to start making serious tactical decisions besides killing them and limiting our casualties. Frigates and Corvettes should target random targets with no pattern, for now. Destroyers, Cruisers and Battleships should periodically burst fire on random targets. For us, start charging up our heavy weapons for decisive strikes as necessary, and for medium-to-small weapons follow the tactics of the higher ship classes.”

The battle raged on for some time. Eventually, some Trianarö ships started to fall, mainly corvettes and destroyers, with some frigates in the line of fire as well. However, all of the ships in the bigger ship classes remained damaged at worst, and unscathed at best, while they and their fire had created a large disparity in the number of casualties between the two sides- something the enemy would have to remedy if they wished to survive the battle.

[killermantiss]

Even though they lost many ships and weren’t on the up side anymore, the miraline ware still formidable. Their ships ware flying at high speeds pulling insane g force trough the trianaro formation. And a couple did something unexpected.

In sink 7 ships launched boarding pods onto different spots of the flagship. In them ware Izhmâb gazatûk, blood swords, ruthless miraline warriors known for their brutality. The fight only now truely started

[Flaming]

The Relay Officer winced. “Sir. You’re not going to like this.”

He pulled up a hologram of the inside of the ship, with pulsating blue bubbles showing enemy locations. “Three ships have made it past our shielding and are now boarding us.”

Captain Êmanakas blinked. “How is that even possible?”

The Relay Officer shrugged. "You remember, a few months ago, when we were having the ship worked on? They mentioned that our main Mosarkran shields were blinking a little bit. It’s really not an issue for most projectiles, but apparently these aliens had the god-like luck of having three of their boarding ships arrive at the exact moment that our shielding let up in those areas. 4 others got obliterated as is supposed to happen. "

Êmanakas smirked. “Must be demons helping them. I’m glad, though- they actually showed us something not that common. When was the last boarding action- wasn’t it during the era of the Empire?”

The RO nodded. “Skirmish over the system of New Nölvra, against the Kanareö in Sûtra. If I remember right, they were trying to board a flagship, just like this one.”

Captain Êmanakas chucked. “A little over 300 years ago. Unfortunately for these aliens, Trianar has a very long memory.”

---

A battle raged on where the Flagship had been entered. Almost immediately, like an immune system fighting an infection, droids that had switched from maintenance mode to battle mode swarmed the area, giving time for the more elite biological soldiers to show up. The resistance on the inside of the Flagship was just as tough as the resistance to the fleet. on the outside.

[killermantiss]

The Izhmâb gazatûk ware showing why they earned their name. The trianaro droids couldn’t do anything to them and ware being dispatched quickly. The organic soldiers faired better, putting up a fight, but ware still outmatched by the sheer strenght of the blood swords. They ware making progress, good progress at that, pushing deeper into the ship.

Meanwhile outside the ship the battle was going in the opposite direction. The miraline ware visibly losing the battle. They had lost half of their fleet and ware starting to prepare for a retreat, but they ware naive to think someone would allow them to do that.

[Flaming]

“Sir. We’re experiencing push-backs in every sector these damn demons enter. Our Sycriûn soldiers in particular are holding them back, but I estimate three hours and we’ll have lost so much crew that we won’t be able to man the ship. Our best bet would be Izarattikai at this point, but the closest group would take 4 hours to get here.”

The captain lent back. “Put out the call. Tell our soldiers to do all they can to stop the advance. Hold them off for as long as possible. If all else fails, scuttle the ship.”

---

Outside, the fleet was in much better spirits. Their numerical advantage allowed the Trianarö fleet to take much more aggressive actions. Sections of the Miraline fleet were cut off and decimated by the overwhelming firepower of the Trianarö fleet, and their shields absorbed projectiles as if they were nothing. However, the few captains that knew of the plight on the Flagship worried, as they tried to scramble boarding parties of their own to aid their High Captain. Yet, it wouldn’t be necessary.

[killermantiss]

While the battle was still raging a sudden loud screech fills radio frequencies, and then, a EMP wave. Both Miraline and trianaro radars beep like mad, as 5000 ships are suddenly detected, appearing seemingly out of thin air.

A loud whistle plays on all radio frequencies
“The Gil-Atarnië announces it’s presence!”

“I hope that the translation matrix did it’s job. Unknown fleet, this is admiral Orthoron of the second rapid response fleet. What you are facing are Miraline, abominations created by the hubris of our scientists. We, the Star-Empire of Calerost, have been at war with them for more than a century. We came as fast as possible after detecting the battle here and are right now in the process of engaging the remnants of the miraline fleet. We also detect that what I’m assuming is your command ship being boarded. You are not fighting blood swords off on your own. We request to deploy hataloqueltar, warrior priests specifically trained to deal with them, on the ship. I know that this is our first contact but the spilled blood of our solidters unites us, please trust us.”

[Flaming]

Captain Êmanakas looked at the rest of his command. They had just discovered two alien races in one day. Some of them seemed skeptical, but he shrugged, “A en krekenai sal, sal en capanai,” he said, in Ikaranarean, meaning As the demons come, so come the angels. And it was set. They needed a miracle, and one arrived- who was to say it was not the work of the Gods?

He took the comms. “Admiral Othoron of the second response fleet of the Star Empire of Calerost. These demons have caused this Flagship much turmoil. While our own reinforcements are on the way, your help would be much appreciated to prevent further unnecessary losses.”

he leaned back, contemplating what those demons would see as these “Hataloqueltar” crashed into the ship.

[killermantiss]

“Received, deploying hataloqueltar. Will give you comms and visual from their armor’s cameras for organisation purposes.”

Meanwhile, in the hataloqueltar drop pod…

“BORN TO THE PROUDEST MOTHERS, WHO ARE WE?!”

“THE HATALOQUALTAR!”

“MOST LOYAL WARRIORS OF THE EMPEROR, WHO ARE WE?!”

“THE HATALOQUALTAR!”

“BAPTIZED IN MIRALINE BLOOD, WHO ARE WE??”

“THE HATALOQUALTAR!”

“HOANED TO PERFECTION IN THE FIRE OF COMBAT, WHO ARE WE?!”

“THE HATALOQUALTAR!”

“GUIDED BY THE LIGHT OF SAINT LÛTHION, WHO ARE WE?!”

“THE HATALOQUALTAR!”

" FUELED BY QUELTAR’S OWN WRATH, WHO ARE WE?!"

“THE HATALOQUALTAR!”

“WHILE TREES STILL GROW IN THE HOLY FOREST, WHO ARE WE?!”

“THE HATALOQUALTAR!”

“WHILE FISH STILL ROAM ILANOR’S OCEANS, WHO ARE WE?!”

“THE HATALOQUALTAR”

“WHILE THERE’S STILL HERETICS IN THE UNIVERSE, WHO ARE WE?!”

“THE HATALOQUALTAR!”

“UNTILL THE LAST DROP OF OUR BLOOD IS SPILLED, WHO ARE WE?!”

“THE HATALOQUALTAR!”

“OH QUELTAR, LORD OF WAR!”

“HEAR OUR VOICES!”

“WE ASK FOR ONLY ONE THING!”

“FOR HEATHEN BLOOD TO BE SPILLED!”

“AND IF WE ARE TODAY TO FALL!”

“WE SHALL FOREVER JOIN YOUR HOST!”

“EFFÍRIË AR QUELMË!!!”

“EFFÍRIË AR QUELMË!!!”

The famous war prayer of the hataloqueltar. It was said that no miraline would hear it twice.

Peak physical form, biomechanical enhancements, the most advanced equipment calerost could produce, some of the thoughest training in the sector and a unbreakable iron will ware all part of what made the hataloqueltar some of the best soldiers in the sector. Founded soon after the battle of Olon’s gem in memory of saint Luthion, son of the emperor, they ware trained for one thing and one thing only: to strike fear into the hearts of the miraline and their blades into their flesh, killing them mercilessly. And that was exactly what they ware going to do now.

The pods slammed into the capital ship and released 5 battalions of hataloqueltar. They got to work instantly, guided by the trianaro over comms they ware hunting blood swords, killing them in seconds. Their efficiency was terrifying. For however strong the blood swords ware, they ware extremely unadaptable. The hataloqueltar knew all of their tactics and used them against them. There was no battle, just a slaughter.

[Flaming]

Captain Êmanakas sat back in amazement as he listened to reports. “Sectors A-1 through A-5 clear… B-2-B-6…” as he saw sectors turn from white to red on the holomap within minutes of these Hataloqueltar arriving. These soldiers, he thought, could rival even a Izarattik in battle. To think that such a civilization had existed on their doorstep for at the very least hundreds of years was baffling.

On the outside, he saw the same thing. With reinforcements, any hopes these “miraline” had of escaping dwindled to 0. The extra firepower and the strange aliens’ knowledge of these demons’ tactics made the outside just as much as slaughter as the inside, as the scattered remnants of the demons were torn into nothing but scrap metal.

He sighed. He made a call to Centrus, being ported into the office the Imperö was currently in. He gave a code: “The Stars achieved for the Imperö.” This code meant that there was a battle against a hostile foreign force, and that they had won the battle. Without even a word, he was on the direct line with the Imperö.

“Lis Impêras,” he started. “We have fought and won against a hostile alien force. We were aided by friendly aliens who were at war with the hostiles. All hostiles have been exterminated. These matters are now of your importance. I ask you for my next directive.”

The Imperö was a stoic man, and he was not one to waste words. “I give you full permission to conduct initial diplomacy on behalf of the Imperium. Inform me of how this goes.”

The line ended.

He took a moment to confer with his staff before he made a transmission to Calerost’s fleet. “Brave soldiers of the nation Calerost. On behalf of the Flagship Mogna, and the 501st Elite Defense Fleet, I, High Captain Alsatsö Êmanakas thank you for your aid in defeating the demonic aliens that attempted to overrun us. On behalf of the Holy Imperö, I have been given a directive to conduct diplomacy with the forces here. I would be honored to receive you on this flagship, or, if you so wish, I can make the trip to you.”

[killermantiss]

“We would be honored to meet you on your flagship, captain Êmanakas. I have authority to negotiate in the name of the star empire so I, joined by some body guards, will shuttle to your ship. I will come soon.”

First contact. First friendly first contact for the star empire at that. And he would negotiate with the xenos. Orthoron knew he would go down in the history books. The feeling of pride was intoxicating but he composed himself. Him and 4 bodyguards boarded a shuttle and flew towards the massive trianaro flagship. Even the star breaker he commanded didn’t come close to this size.

Soon they docked and entered the ship.

[Flaming]

The Trianarö were nothing if not an efficient people. As Orthoron entered the ship, he realized that they were entering an area where combat had occurred. If it wasn’t for the few crew finalizing repairs, they might not have been able to tell. From the outside, they would have also seen automatic repair shuttles, fixing areas as if the Flagship was some sort of metallic organism.

As Orthoron entered, he saw a line of soldiers standing on each side of him. There were lizardlike people, standing taller than anyone else in the room, and then there was another people, only slightly shorter, who were all in protective suits of some sort. There was also a people that looked much like an Edhel, but with shorter ears and a darker range of skin tones. All of them looked on, not so much as flicking their eyes at the Edhel visitors, standing like statues. And then, with no apparent signal, they all started pounding the shafts of their spear-like guns on the floor in perfect unison, in groups of threes. The sounds of the thuds echoed throughout the room like one cohesive sound.

At the end of the line, was the captain of the Flagship. He got up from his seat, walking to the guests and extending a hand for a handshake before hesitating. “I don’t know if your people have this custom, but it’s a greeting. I am High Captain Altatso Êmanakas.”

[killermantiss]

“Interesting custom, we usually raise our swords in greeting. May the light of the gods shine on the place of our meeting, captain Êmanakas. I am admiral Orthoron of the imperial navy. You should feel great pride for yourself and those in your command. The foe you fought off isn’t a weak one. In a century of war they have exterminated 30% of Calerost’s population, made us develop a new kind of warfare, one of pure unregulated extermination, because death is the only language that the miraline speak. In honor of that i gift you this dagger. In my nation it’s a sign of respect to gift a dagger, and of alliance to gift a sword. I hope that soon i will also get to gift you the latter.”

[Flaming]

The High Captain smiled. “Our people were forged by the war machine. We are no stranger to devastation and conquest. Since our very beginning, we have existed in a region of extreme competition and violence. War was constant and ever-changing, and we adapted beyond the standards of our neighbors until we were the power. There is not a strategy or tactic that we have forgotten.”

He paused. “And we are no strangers to such a conflict. Around 230 years ago, all the peoples of Trianar faced an insurmountable foe. We called them the Krekenai. Demons. They were summoned by a heretic desperate for conquest. It took 7 trillion lives at the time to stop it. Nearly 5 trillion of those casualties were of my species, the Ikaranareans, those with connection to the Gods. We now live in a minority of the species we rule over- luckily, they have seen the grace of the Gods and know that it is their duty to carry out their will just as it is ours.”

He accepted the dagger. “A worthy gift. It is the gift of a society that knows the true meaning of sacrifice.”

He reaches back and picks up a small box. Inside is the Imperium standard.

“This standard is the most holy symbol in this country. This is the symbol representing our pantheon of major gods. The Gods of Conflict, the Gods of Ingenuity, and the Gods of Wealth. In the Center, the Commander of the Heavenly Army, Takrê. I give this to you not as a conversion tactic, but as a sign of your society’s holiness. If we do not worship the same gods, I believe that our gods were meant to be allies in the fight against demons. This is not a gift given lightly.”

[killermantiss]

Orthoron took the standard into his hand, kissed it, and raised it up high saying:

“Hailed be the gods of Trianar for their sons and daughters have done a great favor to the gods of Calerost. I feel great honor in accepting this gift, so holy to your people. It will be proudly displayed in my office, as a reminder of this day.”

He folds the standard back into the box and hands it to a officer next to him.

“I would like to learn more about your gods, captain, and in return I’ll tell you more about mine. And then when we can conduct diplomacy. Also, im sorry but may i ask that we sit down somewhere? My leg is still recovering from a injury i received in battle, so it’s still somewhat painful for me to stand for long amounts of time.”

[Flaming]

He nods. “We can go to a meeting place. You may take your soldiers, if you wish.”

They are led to a chamber adorned with three colors- blood, gold and a searing orange.

“The pride of battle… I have to say; i hope your wound heals, but I am envious that you may get to fight. After a great calamity, my people: The Ikaranareans, who hold the power of the two Divine Metals, Safarkran and Mosarkran, were reduced in number greatly. We bore the brunt of casualties in the war against the Krekenai, demons, and another great number in the battle against the Hemmerhaldians. All in all, we are less than a trillion, now, reduced to our home systems. These losses- not to be too blunt, but I think it scared our leaders. There are, of course, the Izarattikai, the warrior priests, who fight with zeal, skill, and valor, but there are no more Ikaranarean footsoldiers, nor regular crew. To be in the military as I am, you go through extensive tactical and physical training- but you do not rise through the ranks. You start as the captain or the High Captain or someone in command. We lead this nation and yet I feel startled that we don’t fight for it anymore.”

As they both took a seat, the High Captain chuckled. “But a lecture on history was not what you came for, was it? Allow me to tell you what I know of our gods.”

A holomap appeared, showing symbols in an old script, and pictures of humanoid beings.

“Our people came from a planet far far away. In fact, we were once no different than the humans that exist upon our ship. But it is said that on our way here, our sleeper ship was visited by The Gods, who imparted their knowledge and revealed their hand in our history. The captain of that ship was quick to accept the truth of this notion, and thus the seeds of our religion were born.”

The image took another shape- The Imperium Standard, but multicolored. The top left was golden, the top right was orange, and the bottom was red.

“These colors represent the three pillars of Trianarö religion: Wealth, Ingenuity, and Conflict. Wealth represents what we must have; things like food and knowledge. Ingenuity represents how we must adapt- invention, tactics and the like. Conflict repesents how we must fight: War, personal combat, but also more abstract things, like campaigning for change.”

The three colors and the stars around them flew far away, and the circle was enlarged.

“In the center is the Commander of the Heavenly Armies. She commands the war against the demons, in both the Heavens and by delegation to races in what we call realspace. This is the primary goal of our people- the reason we have organized a state. It is our prerogative to ensure that demons are found and exterminated.”

The hologram dissipated as he looked back at the admiral. “That is the gist of our beliefs. I apologize if it dragged on.”