Roleplay - The Invaders Attack:
Written by various players.
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Chapter 27: Agression is Survial


The stadium-like Forum was buzzing, literally, with discussion and chatter. All of the fifty three united subspecies had all sent their two assigned Councillors to speak at this urgent meeting, which had been called for by the Queen herself.

A loud repetitive banging noise was heard four times, indicating that the Queen was about to enter. A light flashed on in each of the fifty three seating cabins, the see through sign in front of the light source indicating that the universal translators in the arena below had been activated but not yet switched on, which would happen automatically at the moment that one of the Councillors addressed the Queen and Council in his own native language.

As the doors down below at the far end of the arena opened and the Queen made her way to the middle, where a thrown was placed for her seating, a respectful silence took reign of the Forum.

The huge insectoid slowly made its way to the centre of the floor and took its place in the in the royal chair., which was for the moment engulfed in a bright light that probably hurt the compound eyes of the creature.

All Councillors looked down in awe at their rightful Queen: the centre of power in their society, their entire point of existence, and held their breath.

As she sat on her thrown in the middle of the arena-like floor, the Queen was surrounded by high walls which contained many small area's - all filled with nothing but two measly seats - where the Councillors of all fifty three united races had taken their place.

These areas were connected to the centre of the Forum by a balcony-like opening in the wall, only big enough to see through and be seen through.

It would have been clear to anyone that bothered to study the government of the species simply known as the Hive, that these Councillors have no actual power whatsoever. They were there merely as a sounding board for the Queen, in order to anticipate whether or not the various subspecies would support the major decisions without more extreme measures of persuasion, or that they would follow like they were supposed to: blindly without question or doubt. If this council was to agree, the entire planning behind what the Queen had in mind would be rushed into practice much faster, quieter and overall: much easier.

The meeting was opened and the Queen spoke in the Unified Speech of the Hive, which only goal was to make communication easier and faster between the numerous species.

"Today, subjects, you are all here, assembled with a goal. Soon the galaxy will be at war, a war beyond the likes of what any of us have every witnessed. And the Hive cannot stand by and watch without taking action. We feel the need to join in this conflict, for the simple reason that the people need more space to live and prosper, and we need a larger corner of this galaxy to be called our own. We ask the council to determine which course of action is best followed. Is the hive to be Allied or are we best to join the noble Slah'ke and their fellow warriors and seize control of this galaxy, playing a part in the dawning of a new era? Rise council, rise and speak!"

Most of the council was somewhat shocked as they probably all came here under the assumption that interplanetary trade-regulations would be discussed, not war; and a few moments of deliberation followed. The actual conversations were impossible to follow or even determine, due to the fact that fifty three languages were spoken at the same time, by double that amount in councillors. The noise generated by the clicking and the buzzing was only superseded by rattling, crackling and off course louder clicking and buzzing.

The first to stand was a young insectoid whose physique resembled that of a native Earth insectoid species generally referred to by Terran biologists as ants.

The young councillor approached the edge of the space assigned to himself and his fellow representative and spoke as required in the Unified Language, fluent but not without accent: "On behalf of the race of the Jii-Uhasq, from the north-western continent on the planet of Somana, the representative by the name of Topher11 wishes to address the Queens Council."

Introductions were always lengthy, due to the many sub-species the various worlds they inhabited.

"Speak!" The Queens voice was loud and clear.

Topher drew his breath and spoke in a rather unusual gentle voice: "It is clear the Hive cannot remain neutral in this conflict, and is expected to survive in the end to serve its Queen to her pleasing and comfort. The course of war is our only alternative to ensure survival. The Jii-Uhasq feel that joining the Alliance created and led by the one known as Greybeard, named by the Plexxans themselves as John A. Howard…" Such light use of a name deemed unworthy of being spoken in the presence of the Queen - at least up to the moment she used it herself in this meeting - shocked the Council, it was unheard of and frankly, a sign of disrespect towards the Queen, or one of great courage, depending on the point of view one would wish to defend. "… is the best alternative. Greybeard is known as a formidable strategist and a great leader in times of war. He can lead our galaxy to victory, ensuring thereby the survival of the Hive in course of this conflict, so that our Queen can take advantage of the weakened state of our enemies around us, and afterwards expand her empire. It should be noted that the choice of our race was made after careful consideration and assessment of all possible outcomes, anticipating the worth of the various parties involved in this conflict both as allies and enemies."

"The Slah'ke are formidable warriors, perhaps only equalled by the Egarans, but both races are known to be blinded by their thirst for blood. This can be used against them if a strategically correct plan is formulated and brought into practice. However, there is a third member of that alliance. What do we know about these people? Nothing! What forces do they have, is their word filled with honour or deceit? What is their reputation on the battlefield? The Jii-Usahq are convinced that the best chance for survival and gain through this war, is to support the Alliance of Greybeard."

With that, Topher returned to his seating, and another councillor rose, whose introduction revealed his race and name: Rysheu of the Xuy'cquih.

It was well known that this race was more warlike then most others, contrary to the peaceful traders of the people represented by the young Topher.

"A fool sent by cowards! That, my Queen, is what you just have listened to!" Rysheu spoke with a raspy voice, one slow and dark. His body was mutilated by the wounds of war and battle.

"I have read of this mysterious race of which the noble Slah'ke call themselves allies. Known only as the "Invaders", this knows war almost better then even the most bloodthirsty of the Unions best. When these people declare war, planets burn and civilisations are enslaved, if not plain wiped from existence. And this fool wishes to oppose them?"

Rysheu points towards Topher in anger and utter disrespect, and continues in a louder and more commanding voice: "The Plexxan of whom you speak so highly, you believe that he will be your rescue? Your saviour? Wake up young ignorant kid! Your precious Greybeard is no more!! Only days ago the old fool took on one of the leaders of the Invaders by himself, and he perished as he should have ages ago. The Alliance you favour is in disarray, they have no capable leadership, only the memories over which they drown in tears and sorrow. They have been weakened by the foolishness of that old delusional bipedal. I say, on behalf of the people of the Xuy'cquih, we join this ferocious beast and together conquer this galaxy, and do what we are destined to do: claim it to be ours!!!" A deep breath he drew, while the Council let his words sink in, and overcome the shock of the news brought to them.

Many hours were spent debating, arguments came and went, and finally the Queen announced her decision, which was supposedly based upon the debate that had taken place: the fleets of the Hive were to engage in battle besides the reptilian Proxima-natives, against the forces mustered by Greybeard.

And so, the admiralty was ordered to start building up new fleets. And build they did. Every shipyard, production facility and available engineer was ordered into government commission. Daily production of Scarab-class cloaking frigates, Noble-class assault cruisers, and the various smaller classes of warships skyrocketed.

The mines in the empire of the Collective were working overtime, forcing their productivity beyond their actual limits: the Hive was out to spill blood.

The fleets were building up in the system of Naos, safely hidden away from the entire galaxy, for surprise was key to ensuring the role of the Hive in this bloody conflict.

A few thousand of ships orbited the planets, roamed the system, and even more were being made ready for battle in the starbase near the planet of Phadeon, not to mention the amount of ships hidden in the home system of Betelgeux.

Due to the silence around the Hive for so long, the galaxy had begun to underestimate their ability to raise an army even close to what was being raised.

While the Hive was planning, scheming and preparing, the galaxy more and more started to understand how enormous this conflict really was. The forces of the Slah'ke were laying waste to the Federation, no matter how hard they fought, the Plexxans were loosing slowly but surely. Off course, the loss of their beloved President did not aid them, it was their greatest weakness at the moment.

Greeny was pillaging the territories of the Egarans, with some success but not without great losses. He had been forced to rush into the actual fighting while his fleets, no matter how massive, were still in the process of being built up. Every conceivable possible place where ships could be constructed was being occupied. Fighters were mass-produced on the sandy plains of Dahl Merak and underground beneath the toxic atmosphere of Poines in the system of Merak. Each day, the Martian Shipyards alone were producing thirty two Invincible-class Battle Cruisers and twenty five Dominator-class Support Cruisers. Every starbase in the Empire was under orders to produce as many warships as possible, not even to mention the hundreds of large and small shipyards across the systems under the Terran banner.

However, despite of the already significant forces the Terrans had in commission, the Egarans had managed to force the mighty Empire into defending Boötes from the invading alien forces.

The Egarans had taken over control of the space within the system, but had yet to launch a real attack upon the planets. The Terran fleets were concentrated around the base, defending it at all costs.

The starbase was not only a refuge to the inhabitants of the Boötes system; it was also the base of operations for the Empire in that system.

As the Egarans kept sending more and more ships, and the Terrans did not seize their efforts of ship construction in the system, soon Boötes became flooded with ships, and a battle was imminent.

A relatively young Terran Captain stood on the bridge of his newly commissioned Dominator-class warship and watched the Egaran forces move about. Frustration and a thirst for battle gnawed on his consciousness, but he was under strict orders not to attack, only to defend. Off course, the defending would be done without mercy, without hesitation, and with all the force the Terran fleet had at its disposal.

Suddenly, his Communications officer warned him that he had received a personal message from the Terran Council, and that it was rerouted to his working quarters which lay adjoined to the bridge.

A small nod to the officer, and he made his way to his working quarters. The ship had only been commissioned four days ago, so the quarters were still quite sterile and only contained the most basic of furnishing.

As he sat down at his desk, he turned on the monitor of his console, and noticed a blinking icon on the screen. Touching the icon on the screen brought up a window, in which he had to identify himself and have his security clearance checked.

After a successful identification, the message popped up and read:


On behalf of our great Emperor, you are hereby instructed to launch an attack upon the Egaran forces occupying the Boötes system. Use whatever force you deem necessary.

All hail the Emperor!


Dennis reread the message a few times, before it sank in completely: finally he could wipe out the Egaran scum that had dared to defy the power of the Empire and occupy the territory of his glorious Emperor.

With a last look upon the portrait of Emperor Greeny, which was part of the standard outfitting of every Terran-built ship, and then he walked out the room and onto the bridge.

"Open a secure channel to the fleet." He said determined as ever and with steady voice. The day would be his.

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