IC - Battle for the Aeoneonatrix Empire

December 29, 2792

After having spent six days in warp space, the Mardor's main fleet finally neared the Aeoneonatrix border. Deathlash, at the helm of his own battleship, knew very well that the Aeoneonatrix had probably detected him several days earlier. That did not concern him. 

The Mardor battlefleet was still in the column it had assumed upon departure, and did not seem to intend to move away from this marching formation.




When the first long-range sensor readings came in, displaying traces of the Aeoneonatrix deployment, Deathlash's lips curled into a savage grin. Without preamble or warning, the force immersed itself in hostile territory and completely overlooked the systems it was passing. This might come as a surprise to the Aeoneonatrix. Meanwhile, the Mardor were scanning for any targets of opportunity such as military installations, large trading hubs, and so on.

Deathlash crinkled his nose as he spotted the oncoming Aeoneonatrix. He had not expected them to be so bold. "Wait, what are they doing?" he wondered aloud, concerned.

The answer to his question came swiftly. Just then, the Aeoneonatrix ships entered firing range and began to pelt the Mardor rear guard. The Admiral's frown turned into a snarl. "Well?! What are you waiting for? RETURN FIRE!"

The rear batteries of the Mardor's ships of the line, hulking vessels designed to take and inflict massive amounts of punishment, spurted to life. However, they were in a bad position to start with. The Aeoneonatrix line closed around them, and many found themselves assaulted with much more fire than they were able to return simply by their positioning.

When Deathlash observed this, he grew even more irritated. "Why must I do everything myself?!"

He quickly strode forward into the center of the bridge, and stared expectantly at the empty space before him. "Display it." he ordered impatiently.

At his command, a holographic representation of the situation appeared before him. Sure enough, the Aeoneonatrix had the upper hand at the rear of their formation. Immediately upon seeing this, Deathlash extended a pair of grotesque claws and begun to manipulate the image, pointing to various places as he spoke. "Move up these frigates to supplement the line. Have our escort curl around their flank where they are at their weakest. I will win at this game!"

And it was done. If the Aeoneonatrix did not react quickly enough, they would find themselves outflanked and caught in a deadly crossfire at their extremities.

Deathlash grinned. His maneuver had worked perfectly.

"Casualty reports," he barked, not taking his eyes off the spot on the display where the Aeoneonatrix force had previously been.

"Coming in, master," said a crewman, "in total, seventy ships are not accounted for, most of them light cruisers."

"And the Aeoneonatrix?"

"We can't be sure, but it looks like their losses numbered in the hundreds."

Deathlash licked his teeth with satisfaction as he padded back to his platform. "Good... good..." He then suddenly turned to face forward, exuberant. "I will you to observe what just happened. If the Aeoneonatrix cannot stop us from entering their lands, they cannot stop us at all! Ku-Rokti will be ours! For the Mardor!"

Piercing shrieks of approval resounded against the grotesque walls of the bridge, strangely distorted by their odd shape. Amidst it all, a mighty and victorious Deathlash stood tall.

---

Four days later, the Mardor would reach Ku-Rotki.

January 2, 2793

The Mardor column finally arrived at Ku-Rotki, having survived the trip and several skirmishes with Aeoneonatrix outposts and stayed largely in one piece. The force of nearly sixteen thousand ships descended out of warp in a single red flash, and then stopped.

"Master," said one of the servant's aboard Deathlash's flagship, "we have arrived. Ku-Rotki."

Deathlash opened his eyes, drawn from a reverie. "So we have." he said as he uncurled his legs and stood, that air of glee returning to his eyes once more. "Order the fleet to deploy."

His eyes fell on the small Aeoneonatrix fleet standing in their way. His amusement grew. "Hail them," he ordered.

As the Mardor armada slowly glided into their predetermined formation, a comm channel was opened.

"Brave Aeoneonatrix!" he opened with a wicked smile, "To whom am I speaking?"

Deathlash laughed. "You? You're really in no position to boast, Wildlight. I, on the other hand, am. I am the Mighty Admiral Deathslash, son to High King Razorscare. You may surrender now, and I assure you, your death and that of your loved ones will be absolutely painless..."

Lingur's troop movements on the holographic display distracted him out of the corner of his eye. The admiral made an impatient gesture, and then returned his attention to Lingur. "If you do not surrender, on the other hand... If I find you alive, your death will be most... entertaining to me. You know what that means, don't you?" he grinned, flashing his gnarly yellow teeth.

Simultaneously, the entire Mardor formation panned sideways to match Lingur's movement.

Deathlash waved a finger impatiently. "You have no choice. Enough of this circus!"

The transmission was suddenly interrupted as Lingur's ships began to reverse course. From the carriers behind the Mardor's main line, a flock of bombers and fighters poured out. An endless swarm, they dashed towards the planet as quickly as their sublight engines could carry them. There was still too much distance between Lingur's main force and the incoming bombers to be able to effectively deter them with flak fire, but his fighters may be able to intercept them in time.

Simultaneously, two light brigades moved up slightly.

As the Aeoneonatrix fighters drew near, the Mardor bombers withdraw and fled in the other direction. The fighters, on the other hand, turned towards their oncoming counterparts, readied their weapons, and began to charge. They were outnumbered, however, which made it necessary to move up the two light brigades to support their attack. From a distance, these small ships sent flak into the swarm of Aeoneonatrix fighters, likely inflicting heavy damage.

Meanwhile, the entire fleet advanced, distancing itself from the rear, as if in preparation for a charge of their own. Fighters and bombers streamed out from the carriers on the Mardor's right, headed straight for the Aeoneonatrix's now-defenseless ships of the line.

Deathlash gave an impatient snarl as he saw that Lingur's fighters had wisely withdrawn "Fine enough," he growled, "Fighters, pursue them!"

With two swipes of his claws, he manipulated the fighters on the hologram to advance towards the Aeoneonatrix line formation, ordering them to engage it in close combat. The result would be a massive melee, a contest between held precariously between the hulls of the Aeoneonatrix's largest vessels, who could do nothing but watch as their aircraft were slowly overwhelmed.

The Admiral watched the melee begin with dissatisfaction. He had hoped for a much cleaner victory, but this would do. He then ordered the entire armada to advance, and converge on the Aeoneonatrix line. The Mardor dared not open fire, though, for fear of hitting their own. Three light brigades moved up on either side of the Aeoneonatrix line and began firing salvos of flak into the deployed Aeoneonatrix bombers.

"Now," Deathlash said as he withdrew to admire the result of his tampering, "The Aeoneonatrix are finished."

That gleam sprung back into his eyes.

"Wildlight... I will remember that name. The Aeoneonatrix who stood before the might of the Mardor and did not yield. A courageous fool, but a fool nonetheless. Let him be treated to the destruction of his homeworld before he dies!"

At that, the bombers that had previously retreated from the Aeoneonatrix fighters, supported by a grouping of heavy line ships that had been held in reserve this whole time, converged on the planet.

January 2, 2793. The day Ku-Rokti was about to fall...

Three light years from the battlefield, in the hyperspace.

The General Hammidal Hallarz got up from the captain's chair and contemplated the immensity of the hyperspace through the window of his flagship's bridge. He was tense and worried, they could arrive in time? the Aeoneonatrix have suffered too many losses? There were many questions that afflicted and bother him, questions would soon be answered.

"Helmsman, distance from the battlefield" said Hammidal.
"Two and half light years and approaching, around a thirty seconds" was the response of the helmsman.
"Good. To all the units, go to the battle stations, thirty seconds to the fight" the general sighed "I hope that we don't arrive too late".

The huge column of 7500 high-tech ships prepared to arrive at the battlefield, each battlefleet of the armada moved forward until form five huge blocks of metal and technology. In the center, the nothing peaceful General's flagship and the bulk of the battleships, in right and left two large blocks of destroyers and frigates arranged in line, ready for any order that General could give.

The armada emerged from hyperspace on the back of the Mardor's lines, was time, the day would turn red with the blood of ones or the others.