[color=lightcoral][center][h3]Fringe Space, Draconian Empire, Colony 257G of the Forerunners[/h3][/center][/color]
[color=Peru]Draconia smiled evilly as two of forty-two ships dropped from the clouds above, coming down low enough to fire droppods into the ground outside the airport. From them scurried not even a full company of troops. If this was the ground forces of this fleet, Draconia would have no trouble keeping the ground from them. 

And at her word, two to three satellites to every one already easily detected appeared, hundreds of them.

And they were all armed with missiles, lasers, or cannons. Larger inactive Battle Stations, a small station capable of giving four times as much firepower as a regular Defensive Satellite, and controlling and coordinating with all the satellites in the vicinity, and talking with all other Battle Stations. By tracing the signals being received and transmitted from the station, one might assume that the one place soldiers had dropped- the largest airfield and military base on the entire planet- might be the center of operations for the entire thing.

Hundreds of guns turned towards the now-rather-meager fleet of not even 50, and missiles flew from launchers, armor-piercing ballistic-capped (APBC) shots from railguns and MACs, and high-powered beams of energy from lasers satellites.

As orders went out, all "battles" ceased. As they did so, it became rapidly obvious that there wasn't a single bit of real battle anywhere on the planets where there were active units. All the craters and explosions seen from orbit were suddenly gone, replaced by perfectly operational units.

Petra Command Walkers, sixteen of them, marching towards the planet's central hub, Draconia's Hub, paused in their march, troops and units around them halting with them. Cannons were raised as high as they could go, and they simultaneously fired the first shots of what may become a very long war. Sixteen cover rounds flew up in an eerily continued ascent, not decelerating at all. The rounds, leaving a trail behind them, impacted the two ships' shields at a colossal speed for a kinetic weapon, no doubt rattling the cups on tables inside. 

A massive burst of gas burst from each shot, filling the air with a new, dirty-snow colored cloud, preventing them from doing anything by sight, and screwing with any kind of instrument trying to peer through it via special chemical formulas. While they were essentially blinded by the cloud that was thrown up around them, three flights of Rebel aircraft snuck up on their escorts. What was originally a rather peaceful day was broken as twin autocannons opened up on each Rebel. The thundering retorts from hundreds of autocannons broke the peace, and the heavily outnumbered escorts were shredded before they even knew what was happening.

Regardless of how many escaped, only a dozen Rebels really "appeared" on radar- a dozen that was actively sweeping the ships and the remaining escorts with every active sensor possible, like a bright beacon in a dark room. They relayed all they saw through to the rest of the Rebels, who in turn fired missiles at who was left, missiles and rockets. 

And before they had time to start firing back and taking targets- targeting before hand would have been too obvious, and would've caused a battle from the very start, rather than just after it- three MAC cannons opened fire on one ship- an antimatter missile for the other.

From a clump of trees came three bursts, each one flattening half a dozen trees in the process. Ten-ton bullet-shaped projectiles launched out of the bursts, clearly by surface-to-orbit transportation called a MAC. They were by no means stealthy, very easily detected, even through the cloud haze, but nothing would stop them, and unless the heavily armored ships are as nimble as a fish, they'll likely get hit. 
Three lumps flew towards Ship1, and a streak appeared, arching towards Ship2 and reaching it in a matter of seconds. 

Regardless if it scored a hit or not, the missile would explode against or near the enemy ship, and a small sun appeared in the sky, blinding and buffeting the fleeing Rebel aircraft, incinerating nearby clouds and shaking the earth.

As the two enemy ships disappeared within the brightness of the mini-sun, a couple hundred anti-starship Shrike fighters rose from the different airfields, having to take off the "old-fashioned way," for lack of VTOL capabilities. The did, however, gain supersonic with a minute of taking off, gathering in a holding pattern around their respective airbases, in their respective wings, or flight groups.

From the control tower, Draconia smiled. Her latest order was sent; her fleet was on its way. She figured the enemy fleet had, oh, an hour to disengage and flee, or fight their way through the satellites- half of which hung between them and the rest of space, half in the way to the ground- and to the surface.[/color]