[@Commodore Robot] Nosi eyed the starcharts before him, rumbling to himself. Al-Sili, his advisor, stood across from him. She was humming a prayer. "You are correct, Cleric. However, I am not convinced to invade the xenos. Why, when their force is superior on the whole to the Congregation and the Church combined?" Al-Sili remained silent except for her prayer, which was lasting a few minutes longer than Nosi would have liked. The Lord stilled his rumbling, however, and waited. "Have you forgotten, Lord? The xenos see no threat in us. Even when they took those holdings from you and your brother-lords, they went no further than necessary to drive you from those suns. One star at a time, with the full commitment of your levies, and you can hold those worlds." "What of my brothers? Full commitment of my forces leaves my suns at their mercy." "Do you believe Amenmesh capable of pressing his claim? His holdings are more expansive than yours, yes, but he is no Warlord. An archiver, stumbled into a place of martial reign." "And Ua-Menlir?" "The other Lords will allow him no leeway. Their contempt for him is greater than that for you. Furthermore, the Clerics in his court lend me the belief that he is preoccupied. Their manner suggests he is distracted and vulnerable. However, to totally deprive him of his seat and holdings is out of the question, morally." "The xenos, then." "The xenos, my Lord." - - - Chief Timesi growled as he felt the destroyer make the final maneuver, the g-forces increasing rapidly before plateauing. The pilot rumbled some figures, as the Navigator somewhere in the aft end of the destroyer rumbled back. For now, the vessel was totally under their command. Despite his familiarity with the bloodlines of this pilot/Navigator pair, Timesi was uneasy. Somewhere prograde of the vessel was a massive ball of fusion and divine fury, and he was hurtling toward it at a brisk pace. If the Navigator could not shunt the vessel in time, they would burn. Chief Timesi turned his thoughts inward and began to hum a prayer. The transition was seamless. There was no sudden jolt, no feeling of time slowing down or speeding up. There were only two indications that the shunt occurred. The first was only apparent the pilot, whose sensors suddenly spit out dramatically different values. The second was the one Chief Timesi noticed, prompting him to make his way aft. "Make us combat ready. Relay that order to the rest of the fleet," Timesi spoke into his radio. He reached over and pulled the babbling mess of a Navigator from his station. He tried not to listen to the Navigator's words as he dragged him to an airlock and threw him inside. "I have seen the face of God, and It is afraid. The face of God is the face of fear, Timesi. Take me back, take me back to It. The Apocalypse comes for us, and we will not see the face of God again when it does." The Chief closed the airlock and spaced it. The Navigator's body was flung out, along with precious atmosphere. This was the price they paid to cross the distances between stars. - - - The Ouroboros fleet appears in low orbit around the largest gas giant in the system, and quickly maneuvers into a higher orbit. They number as such: twenty-and-one destroyers, fit for battle against frigates and strike-craft; thirty frigates, armed equally with missiles and kinetic weapons; and fifty-and-four corvettes equipped with missiles and bombs, ferried into battle on nine unarmed support frigates. [@Arawak] [@duck55223] Ua-Menlir presided over his palace, surrounded by Clerics and Chieftains. It was a small moon, with vast corridors and grand halls carved out. Boreholes extend down from the surface to the core, which has been hollowed out and capped with lenses. Buried somewhere in the bowels of the moon is a small nuclear reactor, powering the life support and equipment of the palace tirelessly. The Heretic seemed agitated. His Clerics seemed afraid. Unlike the other Lords, Ua-Menlir had a small retinue of the Church’s representatives, primarily assigned to keep watch on him. However, the Heretic Lord was prone to violent outbursts, and the Church found themselves piecing Clerics back together more often than not. “Send them, then.” With that, the fleet gathered outside Ua-Menlir’s palace mobilized, riding their nuclear torches toward the sun. Soon, the fleet appeared to be a constellation drifting away. All that remained was the Lord’s personal retinue, a small battlegroup to escort him if he should choose to visit one of his colonies around the pair of gas giants in far orbits at the edge of the system. However, he was content to stay hidden away inside his moonbase. He rumbled to himself, and turned to his entourage. “Ready a charge. I’ll not be caught off-guard.” - - - The fleet shunts into a Roman system, reactors ablaze and weapons ready. However, other than some minor adjustments to their orbit, the vessels make no move. They sit patiently and wait, on guard but not aggressive.