Short Story; Operation Swift Retribution

Credits; Krell,

The Admiral was quite the sight to behold.  It had been only hours since the orders had come down and he hadn't wavered a second since.  He was a man on a mission, and it was a dire mission indeed.  The Empire as they knew it was already dead behind them; of all its proud fleets and stalwart armies, only these few remained.  Four full fleets remained, and fewer armies.  There were enough stragglers spread across the colonies to double their numbers, and they had all been scrambled to assist in the operation.  It was a mere eight days till Junsrew, and every man not needed at the front lines or manning the watch posts had been home on leave; there were no reserves.  And as Sister Neszien looked across the command center in the heart of the Zink's Cleiden, the Admiral's flagship, she could see that only one man was making the effort to maintain his composure.  In full naval regalia, the muted red tunic over the techplate armor all active military personnel wore, though bearing far more medals than most, Admiral Krell Casat was a somber tower of strength in a frenzied room. 

"All ships report."
She heard as the surviving ships began to call out their status to the stalwart commander.  She heard the names of the Lucky Thirteenth called out in their entirety; joined soon after by the Ninety-Sixth and Fortieth.  Then were the colonial watch squadrons, each fearful and inexperienced.  And at last the Admiral announced to the gathered armada that his own Forty-Ninth was prepared and fully manned.  It had taken a miracle, but every ship stood ready with a full crew.  How could they not?  Every one of them had been beyond the borders and not one had been infiltrated by the Empire's mysterious attackers.  They were colonists mostly, no ancestral names or great battlefields scattered across their homeworlds.  The Admiral himself was from Gasca, but his wife and as much of his family as he cared to speak of or with were from here in the colonies; it was thanks to them he was even alive. 
As the comm fell silent once more, or at least reverted to its usual quiet chatter, the Admiral activated a holotransmitter and breathed in deeply. 

"Men and Women of the Daniellandish Armed Forces; many of you have neither met me nor heard of me.  Most of you shall never here from me again.  But today, and for however long it takes, I will be your commanding officer.  I am Admiral Krell Casat, commanding officer of his Imperial Majesty's Forty-Ninth fleet.  I am, to the best of all available knowledge, the highest ranking officer of the Navy or Army who can still be considered strictly alive.  As such, I have been ordered by his Imperial Majesty to lead this joint task force of the Imperial Army and Navy against the perpetrators of todays attack.  You, you shall be the hand of the Empire in these dark times."
He paused, whether for effect or for some other reason seemed unimportant now.  Neszien knew that all else had been set aside, they all did.  Ever since the attack the world had become a blur, rushing to avenge loved ones or to embrace them in the last minutes of natural life.  The sisterhood allowed no attachments, and as an orphan she had few to start with, but she couldn't help but echo some of the passions of the men and women across the fleet.  They were the living hand of a dying empire, and they would bring swift retribution to those who had dared to attack them. 
"The plan is simple; all ground forces have been divided up into platoons.  Every platoon has been assigned a magic user, most of them civilian.  The magic users have been granted the authority to probe the minds of the surrounding humans and track down the cultists who brought death to our homes.  Every platoon will protect their magic user, and will only kill those targets indicated as cultists.  Trusted, senior mages will remain above with the fleet and monitor the magic users in the field to prevent abuse of power."  Krell paused again, listening to a question posed by one of the other surviving navy commanders.  "No.  All weapons will be set to stun.  Even if you are attacked, you are to disable the locals only.  Our target is this death cult, not the Human race; leave genocide to their ilk." 
Then he motioned to her.  It was her first time in front of a live audience, and the circumstances couldn't have been worse.  She took a deep breath and recited a calming prayer silently before stepping up to the holotransmitter. 
"It is a grim day for the Empire my friends.  And I wish we could have met under better circumstances.  My name is Sister Neszien, and I've been appointed as the..." her voice cracked a little.  She stopped and took a drink before continuing. "..the...the civilian...relations...person."  She could feel the eyes of the whole fleet watching her.  It was nothing like recording a news report back in the monastery, so much pressure.  Then she felt a warm hand on her shoulder.  She looked back and found herself looking into the vibrant blue eyes.  It was only then that she realized how young he was, how afraid. 
"Take heart Sister, the Empire needs you to be strong, and your God would not have put you in this place if you were not capable of handling it."
She swallowed and turned back to the transmitter.  "I've been appointed as the senior civilian magic user.  I'll be in charge of making sure that the civilian magic users and military ground forces can work cohesively.  We want to get this done fast and properly.  If you encounter an Imperial Guard in the field, defer to his command and do exactly as he tells you to.  I've been informed that every field operative that could be spared has been sent to help ferret out Cult strongholds and safehouses."  She breathed deeply.  She hadn't prepared anything else, but she felt like there was one more thing to be said.  "Lastly, I want to reassure all of you that our mission is just.  Do your duty, and never waver in the service of the Empire." 
The Admiral patted her on the shoulder and gently moved her off of the transmitter.  "Men, the hour is upon us.  Operation Swift Retribution is go, all ships jump now!"

Short Story: "Address to the Dying"

The Undead. There was no single enemy as uniformly hated amongst the Nielda. Even at the height of the first Empire, in the midst of the constant Ga-Vok wars the Nielda would set aside all prejudice to destroy even the slightest outbreak amongst humanity.

For Emperor Kvald III, this only made the current dilemma all the more ironic.
"Your highness, Lady Anath of Gasca has reported that they too have been hit."
"What of the Anatolians, any word from the stations or the surface?"
"Neither sir, it seems they got lucky for once. I'd guess the cultists didn't even realize there was anyone left on that light forsaken world."

"Has Admiral Casat responded yet?"
"Yes sir, the whole fleet was active on the border, no reported cases as of last contact."
"How many other fleets are in equivalent condition?"
"Four in total your highness; the Ninety-Sixth, Fortieth, the thirteenth..."

Staff Secretary Roven continued to list the military assets that had not been affected by the attack. Kvald knew that it didn't matter, one fleet would be enough to launch the counter attack. The real question was the one only he could answer.

"Roven, arrange a press conference in an hour. I need to address my people."
"Do you need time to prepare?"
"No, I think I know what needs to be said."
"Oh good, because we've already set everything up for you."
"Thank you, have my family meet me there."
"Those of them who can still walk are already there."

He entered the broadcast room. It had been designed to look like the throne room, only much more grand and with slightly less polished metal to prevent camera glare. His wife, the Empress Chasia, and three of his sons as well as his Daughter Holine, who had been on leave for Junsrew, were waiting in their appointed positions around the throne.

He sat down in the throne, took a deep breath, and pressed the override button; which caused every computer, radio, and holoprojector in the empire to turn on and begin broadcasting a direct, live feed of his message.
"Citizens of the Empire," He paused to hear his voice echoing as he heard himself from monitors around the room. "Yesterday, our great Empire was attacked by a small, dedicated organisation. This so-called Cult of Endless Death brought bombers out of the plane of travel into low orbit, allowing them to bypass many of our defenses. In under an hour every major city, military installation, and 98% of all the minor population centers had been bombed. But these were not mere bombs; they contained an artificially manufactured variant of the Undeath plague manufactured by the Lich Xanadu during the Frostbourne war."
He paused for affect. This was the first piece of information he'd stated that much of the populace would not have already known.
"Our scientists have worked through the night researching this new plague. And to fall into the cliche, I have good news and I have bad news."
He held up the researchers findings; for computer screens these would be zoomed in, to prove that they were actually what he said they were.
"The good news is that we will not be the rotten mindless wretches that have been seen in ages past; this is not a zombie apocalypse. The bad news is, there is no cure. This plague will leave our nation as nothing but an undead shell of our former self."

He had to stop here. This time the gasp came from within the room itself, not just the hypothetical gasps of a distant audience. The broadcast team were guards; they didn't even break a sweat over this sort of thing. Chasia was not nearly as stalwart.
"But Kvald, We're Nielda. This can't happen to us; our blood; what about our doctors? Surely there's something we can do?"
"I'm afraid not my dear. The plague is custom tailored to Nielda; and it works fast. It's extremly effective I'm sorry to say. We have reports of Ga-Vok pilgrims on Decidua dying within hours of exposure."
"But can't we use some sort of medicine, or magic even?"
He shook his head. He could see the panic in his wife's eyes, but much as it pained him he had to continue.

"Citizens, no, Brother Nielda. We must act at once. Soon it will be to late; Admiral Casat with the Forty-Ninth fleet will be leading the border guard, who are as of yet unaffected by the plague, in retaliation against the perpetrators of this crime. For those of you who go with him, I expect your best; the prayers and fury of the whole Empire are with you. For those of us who remain, the question is; How shall we go on now that death is our unwavering fate?"

The Plague of Danielland; The calm in the storm

Courtney looked out from the palace. Ruling Stormguarde was, compared to ruling any of the other major states of the universe, pretty easy. The population was diverse, but with a population consisting of 90% immortal to very longlived races people tended not to enter into any sort of persoal conflicts. Even just keeping someone's lawn mower too long could have repercussions hundreds of years later.

The Palace was a 'dark district'. Herself a Vampire, she tended to prefer the company of her own kind. They were mostly of her own coven; the Yellsdana. They had historical ties to the city older than even most of her famiy realized. The whole station had been founded by their foremother. The storm mage had built it as a private fortress, during the war she'd expanded it to house refugees. Her Father had lead them here; after Johr had killed him she'd lead the coven.

The immortals were mostly friends or servants of the storm mage. They'd been here as long as there'd been a stormguarde. The Pantheon, of which she was only the second Vampire to be a part of, had taken up residence here. Most immortals lived here, or at least had a house and some servants.

No one was really sure when the Elves had showed up. Stormguarde had been the last bastion of the living during the great war; several races had arrived then. The elves just seemed to be the only one that never left. The heavy Ley energies woven through the station probably appealed to them.

It was a good life. Even during the war no one had dared attack; Her illustrious ancestor had forged the nebula so that it provided light, air, and the most perfect defense in the universe. Ships had to be made of metal, a single bolt of lightning from the raging storm ended any threat. A few of the Wardens were assigned to identify targets and coax the storm as enemies approached. And the nature of the whole place was such that they could relocate if nessesairy.

Not that she didn't have problems. Since the coniving Lich Xandathu had struck the human colonies they'd been dealing with the repercussions. She'd dispatched two of her nephews and a squad of rangers to investigate rumors of an expansionest cult there. The Nielda of the old empire, Danielland, were ready to go to war to stop the threat; the Nielda of the new empire, Seclora, were blocking them on the grounds of an old non-intervention treaty. She'd been hoping one of the other immortals would take an intrest and deal with it. Petra would have been preferable; but she was in exile, again.

"Milady, we've just recieved word from Emperor Kvald the fifth. The entire empire has just been bombed with some sort of new plague."
"Why should I care? We all know the Nielda won't be hurt."
"It seems to be a custom tailored variety of Xandathu's plague. It acts on the blood. Seventy percent of the population is expected to succumb within the next thirty-six hours. He's going to launch a counter-offensive."
"Heaven help them all."

So much for peace. And she was just getting used to it.