Hearth system: Chanthem

Chanthem was an old colony world, a planet in an orbit around a large blue star, normally it would be considered outside of the standard life belt of a system, but it had one saving grace that made the otherwise uninhabitable world livable. The World of Hearth.

Hearth was a Jovian, a gas giant just below the critical threshold for its mass to implode and become a star, and due to all that mass and pressure Hearth radiated heat. Lots and lots of heat, Hearth was the bonfire that kept CHantham alive. Chanthem was in all reality more of a moon, as it orbited Hearth as well as the system star, resulting in periods when the entire colony was "in the dark", but Chanthem had overcome the darkness and now it was the beating heart of the thriving fringes of Terran Union space.

Six hours after the first contact at Phaethon, things in Hearth began to change.

The space around the Hearth system was speckled with space stations and orbital dockyards as ships plied regulated spacelanes into and out of demispace, while no harm could be done inside of demispace, leaving left the exiting ship blind for a few moments and without any defensive force screens active any sort of collision would invariably prove to be quite terminal. Thus when an unscheduled drone emerged from demispace in the middle of rush hour and immediately began blasting distress signals at maximum power on all registered bands it caused quite the commotion indeed.

Hearth System: Galatine station

Inside of the war room on board the Galatine, senior officials gathered to discuss the tidings from Phaethon, and they were grim.

"War..." Said the first man, who stood at the end of the table dressed in white diplomatic garb. "We finally meet aliens and instead of any of trade or cultural exchange it had to be war..."

"And who's fault is that?" Asked the woman to his right, robed in blue and grey combat fatigues, "we sure as shit didn't start this mess, but I'll be damned if we don't at least try to END it. Right here, right now."

"We don't exactly know anything about these things aside from the fact that they're highly aggressive, maybe we should think things through before we start slinging nuclear weapons?"This came from a slim black man in a white naval uniform. "I don't know about you Major, but I sure as hell prefer to know what my enemy is capable of before I send my boys and girls into harms way."

"Well Admiral, its not like my people are stuck aboard your tin cans!" The major in blue snarled back, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the edge of the wooden table.

"Easy easy now you two." The fourth representative spoke, not from the table, but from the speaker installed in the ceiling as the stations AI, Gawain, finally interceded. "I understand the Major's eagerness for retaliation, and the Admiral's caution. After all we only have a small garrison here, and loosing any of it would be a devastating blow to the systems defense. I have already dispatched a courier drone at maximum speed to the core systems to alert them of the incoming threat. However, I do agree with the Major, we cannot afford to just stand here idle. Thus I propose a sort of compromise Admiral..."

Hearth system: Terran Union Cruiser Vigil Vigil was an ancient machine of war, designed almost two hundred years ago it had been mothballed in the ancient storage fleets circling hearth, she had been scheduled for the ship breakers in three months time when the order unexectedly came in to bring her back online, the ancient warship, as well as three of her sisters, were to be used to "test the waters" without crippling the systems defenses.

Ancient automated point defenses whirred to life as dusty computer consoles flickered back online. Along the proud ships tungsten carbide alloy hull, spotlights once more flickered to and then flared casting their glow along the name engraved into her hull as long idle combat drone bays whined as their capacitors charged.

For the first time in two hundred years, Vigil, Violent, and Veracity, the last three of the V class cruiser line would sail into harms way, and they would not be alone. Accompanying these three ships were six frigates and two destroyers, almost a third of the regional defense fleet.

As they set out for Phaethon, they could practically hear the sounds of industry as dry docks, unused in over a century came to life, Chanthem was going to war. Phaethon system: Phaeton Battlemaster Thars Krast clicked his mandibles in appreciation as he stared down at the burning orb below him, silently he cursed the pink fleshy creatures. What had promised to be a quick and easy conquest had rapidly devolved into a political disaster for him. If word got out about what had happened here... he would never mate again. His career would be in shambles if it got out that he had lost four ships against a species that appeared to have barely any knowledge at all of even basic spaceflight.

"Four ships..." he cursed quietly as he stared down at the burning world below. "those squishy pink freaks cost me four ships..."

"Battlemaster," The Adjutent said timidly "The Varna and the Hasha are both salvageable... we can get them repaired in a matter of days Battlemaster..."

Thars considered this, the hatchling was correct... and the station had indeed been formidable... At least when he was done spinning the story it would be. That was why it and its inhabitants had been scattered across the planets orbitals instead of in his possession."I suppose the bombardment has probably gone on for long enough, send down the Legionaries, let them earn their bunks, once we secure the planet I shall dispatch a courier about the location of our newest colony world." He fluttered his wings in the Ruk equivalent of a smile, yes... things had gotten off to a rocky start, but surely nothing could have survived that harsh of an orbital bombardment... certainly not with the will to battle intact. All the legionaries would have to do would be mop up the remains of hte locals, put them in a pen and prepare landing zones for the planets real colonists...

Hyperion City ruins: Phaethon

Hyperion had once been the capitol of Phaethon, a city of towering silver skyscrapers and elegant gardens all set to the backdrop of the Hyperion spaceport. Now it was a ruin. Twisted steel beams and crushed concrete chunks littered the streets, blackened imprints of human beings were seared onto the walls of buildings that they had been sheltering inside. The air was errily still and silent, there were no chirping birds, no rustling trees, and no chittering squirrels. All had been burned to ash by plasma or liquified by kinetic force.

The Ruk Legionare uneasily looked back and fourth through the charred ruins ruins."Squad leader... what are we doing here?" he asked, his wings ruffling nervously under his suit of dispersal armor. "Nothing is alive here, nothing could have surv-"A strange sound split the air,cutting him off midscentance. That sound... it was unlike any weaponry that the legionary had ever heard. It was not like the crackle of a plasma rifle nor the hiss of a laser weapon so what was it... was it one of the buildings breaking...?

He looked back to his squad leader expecting an answer from his superior, The squadmaster had decades of experience in the armor, surely they would be able to tell him. Instead however what he saw was a bloody pulped mess as a six millimeter lead jacketed slug had passed straight through their plasma screen, punched through the layer of refractory armor, smashed its way through the Squadmaster's body and exited on the other size leaving an exit wound so massive that he could clearly see the shattered remains of a street though the hole in what had been his squad leaders midsection.

For a moment legionary Das Kan was frozen in horror as he stared at the damage wrought to his commanding officer. Then, that dreadful sound echoed through the city again, a strange screaming whizzing crack. He spun to the side and saw Fsa Roh slowly slump over with an identical hole smashed through his body.

Whiz Crack! again... that dreadful terror inspiring sound... where was it coming from, where was the shooter... was he ne- that thought was the second to last thing to go through legionary Das Kan's head, the particular honor of being the last belonged to a six millimeter lead jacketed ferric iron cored acellerator rifle slug which exited his braincase at over three thousand meters per second. This round in particular belonged to one Pioter Chenkov of the Hyperion colonial guard reserve.

Up in the ruins of an old stock exchange Pioter grimly smiled, jacked another ferric round into the gauss rifle's acceleration chamber and took aim again. This was going to be a long day, but that was more than fine with him, after all he had nowhere else to be.

His spotter nodded back to Pioter. Nathan remembered taking little Sarah out to the park to play with the birds, how she used to climb on the jungle gym and would chase Pioter's daughter Anastasia around in their games of tag, how his wife's laughter sounded to him like a cool breeze on the warm summer days. How she had been on the wrong side of the city because she had been shopping for Sarah's birthday presents... He remembered hearing her screams over the phone from the bombardment bunker. He didn't know where Sarah was but her grandparents house was dead center of the initial bombardment.

"Three o'clock" Nathan said hollowly as he looked though the binoculars, "On Fifth street, by the old man's bakery."

"I see him." Pioter reponded equally quietly as he drew a bead on the panicking creature. Whiz Crack.