Chapter 2: Chapter 1: A Millenium of War

FGC 2426, Bastion Pass. Federation Fleet 226^th

“So, is there anything out of the ordinary?”

“Meh, we’ve lost around 500 ships, against no more than 28. The losses on our side our catastrophic as usual.”

“Goes to show how talented that fucker was, and here I thought it would’ve been easy for us. To think he still had guts.”

On one of the Federation’s battleships, were two aged flag officers staring intently the space between them and that of their enemies. Behind them were countless dozens of subordinate personnel attentively doing their assigned tasks.

“Has Pelitz given any more commands? Apart from sitting like ducks??”

“Nothing, he’s been cautious ever since 6 of our Star-class dreadnoughts fell in battle. Along with the collapse of the Eastern flank that was composed of 220 ships.”

“Haah…” One of the flag officers sighed, his palm covering his face due to the frustration, “Why didn’t he just do a frontal assault.”

“He was fearful of Kliest and his Galaxy-class star Dreadnought’s capabilities. Ever since the traumatic battle of the Fredeik star System. He, alongside many of the high Admiralty were fearful of Kliest’s capabilities. Imagine just a single Star-dreadnought single handedly destroy 1500 ships, and rout 3 fleets in a single battle.”

“Haah… Your right, I, too remember that lost. I still remember the haunting yells on the communication lines.”

“I heard that many within the Admiralty, army and government is wishing for his return. Giving him amnesty and the ability to serve in the Federation again.”

“What kind of Idiot would present that? He’s a specist and a war criminal who in their right minds would wish his return?”

“The government.”

“Tsk…” Clicking his tonque, looking away, “Those bastards really don’t understand anything about war.”

The two flag officers then returned to their positions and overlooked their subordinate’s progress. Primarily the heat signatures and radar systems, given that a Star-Dreadnought was a hulking behemoth, it should be easy to find.

However, nothing was appearing on the radar systems. Many didn’t know if it was due to the debris that was scattered on the front, or if the Star-Dreadnought was as good as an immobile piece of junk. In other words, effectively destroyed.

Don’t tell me… He wouldn’t die that easily…

***

Bastion Pass, Republican Fleet 119^th. Flagship: Star-Dreadnought “SuperNova”.

Within the confines of the seemingly lifeless bridge of the Galaxy-Class Star Dreadnought. Silent ran rampant, and bodies scattered across the floor and over the control panels. The echoes of the dead took the bridge and the beeping of unused machinery silently accompanied it.

“Arghh—!”

Suddenly, a young man in a white uniform, one that was for a Flag officer, gasped for air with his eyes wide opened. He trembled for a moment before moving his arm to the side, only to feel a lump of fat beside him. Turning his head around, he was met with a pale body of one of his technical officers, dead and lifeless.

He looked the opposite, taking a few deep breaths before raising his body and placed his hand on a control panel, then lifting his body up. As his head peeked through the edge of the panel, he was greeted by a completely dark bridge, disarrayed with lifeless bodies from the paths to the panels and modules.

[Heat detected] The speakers suddenly erupted across the room, giving the officer a look of relief as the ship still had some ability, [Commodore Kliest Nevell, I am grateful that you’ve endured.]

“What did you expect of me, Lisa?”

[I am awaiting your orders, Commodore.]

“Ugh…” Massaging the bridge of his nose, still in a daze, Kliest spoke “What options do we have left?”

[We’ve lost all offensive capabilities, our fleet has been decimated, and only 41% of our shields are working, mostly charged from emergency batteries.]

“So? What options can we do?”

[Three options, First and most plausible is Surrender, second is extermination, and Third is gamble the thread.]

Kliest still had a few moments of irregular breathing and an aching sensation within his chest. His hand remained trembling, seemingly as if he was about to lose all strength he had left. Randomly waving his hand, he replied.

“Do—”

BEEP!

Suddenly, a loud noise erupted within the confines of his desolated bridge. Kliest turned his head around, only to see nothing but the machinery of his bridge.

[It is Rear-Admiral Pelitz of the Federal Subjugation Navy.]

Kliest upon hearing this, nodded his head and beckoned his hand to accept the call. Immediately, without a moments notice, a holographic screen appeared between him and the bridge’s windows. The contents of it was a middle-aged man in a white naval uniform, a recently shaved beard and a damage eye, completely white, devoid of black in his pupils and iris.

“Commodore Kliest,” The man, Rear-Admiral Pelitz greeted with a salute, “An honor to meet the Federation’s number one wanted. I’m sure you’ve heard of me as the commander of the 146^th fleet, of which was almost single-handedly destroyed by you 2 years ago.”

Too lazy to return formalities, Kliest only gave a silent gaze and replied according to what his adversary wanted to hear.

“Here to negotiate my surrender?”

“My,” Pelitz lowered his salute as he saw that the young commodore didn’t seek to reply, “Of course, why else in such dire times.”

“…Why shouldn’t I just choose to prolong our engagement...?” Kliest asked, looking Pelitz directly in his eyes, “I still have the capabilities to do so, and your fleet isn’t looking to good with losing around 500 or so ships against my 28.”

“Well, while our casualties are indeed catastrophic in terms of comparison. It still gives us the result of a victory, A pyrrhic Victory if you may say so.”

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“…Hahah…” Kliest laughed as he glanced at his feet, before raising it back up to look at Pelitz, “Then why don’t we see the rightful end of this battle, once and for all, Pelitz?”

Pelitz, in response to hearing this provoking response merely gave a smirk before laughing. Fortunately, he still showed the decency to cover his mouth and lower his laugh enough to be snarky.

“—Please, Captain Kliest, let us no more prolong this bloodshed.”

“Why so?”

“Currently, A total of 62 fleets, comprised of 30,000 Ships are en-route to our current Location. Not only that but a large portion of the Federal suppression Navy has started encroaching on your decaying Republic’s last bastion of a star system on another recently discovered hyperlane.”

Pelitz added, “You may have won several Battles against us in the span of 5 years, but we still won the war. Your achievements are no more than the victories of a man who has hated the ability to harmonis—”

In the middle of his sentence, the screen was abruptly ended and therfor cutting of Pelitz’s speech about the new moral mission of the Federation. A mission that the young Captain had despised.

Kliest took a seat in a nearby control panel, forcefully pushing it against the bodies of his dead subordinates that blocked it. He then sat on it and gave a drained sigh that almost took every single ounce of air within his lungs.

“Lisa…” He suddenly muttered, his back leaning against his seat, “Let’s gamble…”

[Understood, Commodore.]

***

At the same, at the forward battleship currently overlooking the field littered with debris. A young officer saw what seemed to have been movement through the debris and cover of darkness.

Not only him, but the several sensors within their quarters started blaring en-masse. His several other colleagues soon started giving their response to the warnings thinking it might’ve been a malfunction. Yet, after some time, did they only notice what was truly happening.

“What the hell?” The young officer gasp, taking the attention of most of his colleagues that were busy on their blaring computers, “It’s not a malfunction, it’s rotating! It’s moving! The Dreadnought is Moving!”

The eyes of his colleagues widened and immediately, from fixing their computers, they started opening their respectively-issued communication pads on their desk. Frantically dialing the necessary contacts with haste and without stop.

“Hurry!” The young officer commanded, “Contact the Rear-Admiral! Alarm the fleet! The Entire Fleet! Who knows what that monster’s going to do, he still has a functioning Dreadnought People! A DREADNOUGHT!”

***

226^th Fleet, Federation Capital Ship, Pelitz’s Flagship

“That Fucking disrespectful bastard of an officer.”

Pelitz’s angrily divided the steak on his platter with his silver cutlery. Within the entire bridge, he was the only one eating and one with a well-decorated table. As he ate his medium-rare steak with elegance and silence, he remained vigilant of his surroundings, even if his subordinates showed visible displeasure on what he was doing.

“I’ll make sure that once he surrenders, I’ll beat the shit out of him and then make it so that he’s unable to receive a presidential Pardon, Disrespecting the Xenoraces, and my non-human wife! Fucking hell…”

He chewed his steak with annoyance, his gaze remained fixated on his bridge’s window. While pleasuring his stomach, he nonetheless kept an eye out for his opposing’s officer moves.

“Committing indiscriminate orbital bombardment on Non-human or Xenophilic planets on several occasions. Killed 16 Decorated officers of the Federation’s navy. Most of all, insulting my Wife for being not of the same species?! That bastard!”

As Pelitz’s ate his steak, the room was immediately taken in shock as a frantically sweating officer made his entrance.

“Vice-Admiral Pelitz!” The sweating officer called out, a letter in hand for all to see, “You must read this letter from the forward battleships!”

Pelitz, although still pissed and remained fixated on his eating, nonetheless looked behind him. With their gazes meeting, he then beckoned for the young officer, whom immediately strode towards the Admiral and gave the letter.

“This better be good,” Vice-Admiral Pelitz took the letter and opened it for its content to be visible, he then whispered, “Emergency! movement noticed at target, Movement Noticed at target, requesting immediate orders, immediate orders necessary.”

Upon finishing, Pelitz abruptly raised his head, his vision fixed on the window that overlooked not only his fleet but the battlefield. Although, squinting his eyes and leaning his head forward, he remained seated on his chair, not to mess his decorated table.

“What the hell…” Pelitz muttered under his breath, returning his gaze to the letter and back to the battlefield, “They’re… moving…?”

Realizing what was actually happening, Pelitz pushed his chair back and stood up, immediately rushing towards the very body of his bridge’s window.

“Do it now! Do it now!” He yelled, turning back at his subordinates, whom looked at him all dumbfounded, “FIRE EVERYTHING! The GUNS, ARTILLERY, FLAK, EVERYTHING!”

His order was followed almost immediately by his subordinates. They relayed the message to all the ships within the boundaries of his command. Pelitz’s like the rest of his subordinate’s was consumed by agitated sweating and uncontrollable trembling. Fighting a damaged warship was something, but a damaged dreadnought with a very competent officer was something else.

Then— just like a meteor shower that lit up the night sky of a planet. Several thousand of bright lights were lit up and was consequently released towards the field of battle, intending to hit the behemoth the slowly inched its body.

Bright blue lights in linear form dominated the bridges of the several warships of Pelitz’s fleet. It was a never-ending barrage of lasers, cannons and missiles. Many would think it was overkill, but Pelitz and many other present didn’t view it as such.

“Damn it, damn it, damn it…” Pelitz bit his fingernail as he watched the lights continued on firing, “You must die, don’t do this. Just die already!”

After saying his wishes, he raised his hand in a height that was slightly higher than his shoulder. Of which his officers obediently followed, resulting in a complete halt of firing.

Still agitated, Pelitz looked at his second-in-command, pointing his trembling finger at him, “Results!”

His officer took in deep breathes before raising his hand and viewing the digital report that was given on to him. It was undoubtedly swift, a result of the Separatists’ republic competent officers that gave the federation a new-found sense of efficiency and discipline.

Looking at his device, Pelitz’s second-in-command replied in distress, “T-t-target… escaped…”

“Target…” Pelitz looked at his officer with disbelief in his eyes, “… Escaped…”

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