MACHALA FUCKING's Story

Farrheim smiled, his neural link igniting with data from this new realm. It'd been too long since he'd tasted the vapor of the void, but his journey had his senses honed in on the precious substance.

Prepare for sublight jump, deploy drones at 500 kilometers. Execute sequence, on my mark.

he prepared, signaling to the vessel that they'd be going in first.

The iridescent glimmer across the hull began to ripple into a glow as the energetic taps ramped up, drawing on the space around them to prepare the slipstream for their travel into the system.

Admiral Nash grasped the console in silent consideration, as she watched the Hegelian formation on the holographic projection in front of her.

EVE's voice chimed into the CIC. "Priority one alert from the Scylla, and Director Angel!"

Nash looked up to the display. "Patch it through!" As she considered her next move.

"You've been instructed to retreat from this battle, and return your fleet to Imperial Space at once. This is a priority one directive."

EVE's serenity was abruptly cut by the chime of the DRADIS Systems. "Sir! We have two FTL Signatures on the far side of the system!" The Bridge officer called out. "Identifying.... they're Thunderbolt--"

The pair of Thunderbolt Missiles detonated roughly a hundred AU from the Aschen fleet, and while it seemed to be random, the path, and location of the Detonation was precisely calculated to create an intercept course for an approaching ship.

"Tricobalt explosion detected!" What the frak is going on!?" The Officer called out.

Nash was just as confused. Were they planning on saturating the system?

"As Soon as the FTL Drives are synchronized! Get us the frak out of here!"