Seeking Aid

The last remaining Somnis Empire ships, led by General Kenzeron Redmond, jumped through their dimensional rift to the 10th dimension, NSI space. They were awfully close to several military outposts but did not attempt to cloak. They were here seeking aid from allies; granted, they were the same people who had ordered and carried out the destruction of all but one of the Somnis dimensions. And thus, they were the same people who had ruthlessly and thoughtlessly murdered Kenzeron's entire family, as well as millions of other innocent civilians.

But Kenzeron would not, could not let this stand in his way. His people were dissatisfied that they had to go to the Stalkers for assistance, but seeing as their other allies had all taken severe damage and casualties it was their best bet as recieving some help. Kenzeron was known for this- making decisions against what his emotions told him. He refused to let them bring him down, let them change or cloud his judgement.

Kenzeron didn't bother sending out a transmission, he figured that the Stalkers would find them anyways and would send them a message on their own.

"Sir, Somnis' forces appear to be awaiting a transmission from you."

Admiral Hale was in his quarters examining several battle reports from the latest engagement with Verax's forces when a console on his desk lit up. One of the communications officers sent him an alert.

"Right. Patch me through."

The officer clicked off and the console's AI spoke up.

"Initializing...Requesting communications...Request accepted. Patching you through now, Admiral."

"This is Admiral Hale, Marauder 1st Fleet. Glad to see a friendly fleet, old enemies or otherwise. How may I be of assistance?"

"Hello, Admiral. I am General Redmond, of what's left of the Somnis Empire. I'm sure you are aware that many of the dimensional leaders have gone missing, and that includes our Empress and second-in-command." Kenzeron paused, "That means I'm in charge of the remaining Somnis people. Unfortunately, our fleet is badly damaged and low on supplies; our citizens need help if they are going to last much longer out here. So... what I'm requesting is assistance from the New Stalker Initiative."

Kenzeron hoped that this Admiral Hale would grant his request, for the good of his people.

"We're still recovering from Verax's attack, but we'll do what we can. The shipyard dock operators can direct your ships to available docks, and I'll make sure our support crews will get you the supplies ASAP. We'll need all the help we can get to assault Crenel and Verax. I've already been briefed on the situation with the Empress, and the Initiative will do our best to save her. Admiral Hale, out."

The admiral looked out the virtual reality screen on his window and saw their new allies approaching the orbital shipyards. They were going to have a hell of a battle at Crenel, and he knew that each ship would count.

Kenzeron nodded in relief, getting the ships closer to the docks and ordering them to follow the dock operators instructions. Kenzeron himself composed a short message to Admiral Hale including a thank you for the help and a detail on the number of ships and soldiers that the Somnis Empire could offer up to assist in the battle for Crenel. He included that his men were determined to save their Empress and would go to lengths that normal soldiers would not to save her.

When he was done, Kenzeron sat back again, leaning thoughtfully in his chair, and let the images and thoughts blink through his head again, keeping everything at a distance and training his mind to ignore this fresh pain. Well, not ignore it. Control it. Direct it into something useful, power and anger and strength.

That was what Kenzeron was good at, that was the whole point.

Hale sighed and returned to the stack of documents on his holographic console. As glad as he was that the Somnis fleet was here to assist, there were still battle plans to review for the Battle of Crenel. Most of these documents he'd read through over and over again despite them being accessible through his optical implant, but it wouldn't hurt to look over it one last time.

The file he had in mind was the briefing for Operation Aurora. It was the rescue op for Aurora Somnis, leader of the Kazesqui people and refugees of the long set of wars that had recently crippled nearly every military fleet in the dimensions, save for the Stalker and Alteriian fleets that would form the spearhead of this next attack.

This left their forces in a precarious position, with a two-percent survival chance against the overwhelming force of the Voyager and its supporting armada. They had recently lost contact with their Separatist insiders, and most likely would not have any support from them, leaving the Stalkers with one Marauder and three super-capital fleets. Their main goal, however, was not to beat Verax. The Stalkers, Alteriians, and their supporting allies would be bait, drawing out and attempting to whittle down the enemy forces while cloaked infiltration vessels would slip in and engage both Verax's troops on Crenel and the rogue defense mechanisms within. Both the station and fleet operations had a high chance of failure.

Commander Robless was out investigating the Separatist's mysterious silence currently, hoping to gain what support he could get from them, but given the current political climate, there was little probability that the other seven Marauder fleets would be willing to help.

The admiral sighed again. Hope was scarce, but the men would eagerly look to Robless and Hale for its last rays. He took another look off the holo-screen that showed him the shipyard activity.

Logistics vessels went to and fro between heavily damaged or disabled ships, pulling them into the shipyards and docks that could repair them completely. There were only a few left; most of the major combat-capable vessels were currently being repaired, refueled, and rearmed. Rarely were the repair docks this busy, with Stalker doctrine dictating a minimal casualty rate while inflicting as much damage as possible. But Verax's forces were too uncoordinated, unpredictable for the Stalkers. Despite this, they still managed to find order in the chaos and put together documents on their disorganized swarm tactics, surprise flanking maneuvers, and patchwork ship designs.

Admiral Hale's mind swam with thoughts, both of tactics and emotions as he prepared for the next battle. He did not worry about dying; a soldier did not fear something that was always a close companion. He didn't care whether he died and felt nothing but cold blackness or if some divine power was out there to watch over his afterlife.

In fact, death was almost welcome for a man who'd lost everything and continued to fight side-by-side with it every day. Hale had nothing to lose, and knew that was part of the reason he became so prominent in the military. The camera on his holo-screen changed to display the docking Somnis fleet, and he wondered whether General Kenzeron Redmond had anything to lose as well.