Day 1 of the First Galactic War
[u][i]EUS Strasbourg[/i][/u]
Officers and soldiers bustled about the [i]Strasbourg’s[/i] mess hall as it barreled toward TRAPPIST-1's gate, carried onward by magnetoplasmadynamic thrusters, a buzzing swarm of ships surrounding it. Its arrival to the Solar System was announced unceremoniously, by little but the FEU’s unambiguous declaration of war against PUNT, simplying diverting around rather than stopping for anything that got in its way. That was how the Strasbourg’s primary Command AI, Ultima Verba, preferred it, after all -- there was little time for exchanging diplomatic pleasantries when they needed to prevent a genocide.

Still, it couldn’t help but divert some unused sectors of its unfathomably powerful quantum computers to watching the ship’s personnel in the mess hall, occasionally exchanging idle banter with them through the inbuilt PA system. They didn’t seem to mind the conversation, and neither did Ultima, a welcome distraction from relatively uneventful navigation -- most of which was delegated to its siblings in the first place.

Its cameras suddenly shifted focus, drawing in toward the squad of Strzyga waltzing in through the main doors. A handful of artificial eyes turned toward them, too, and Ultima noted a strange mix of both reverence and excitement in them. 

Thinking quickly -- and hoping to catch their attention -- Ultima conjured one of its many avatars, a slim, tomboyish athlete clad in the garb of the seelie court, fluttering wings and pointed ears adorning its body. It was clad in practically nothing, a disheveled, half-worn naval uniform, bronze-toned skin on nearly-full display as its curious amber eyes stared at them. “Yoo-hoo!” Ultima hollered, waving daintily. “Over here, c’mon!” 

Drazenka was the first one to respond, glancing first toward Commander Amenabar, then at Ultima’s avatar before promptly making her way over to the table, the rest of her five-man squad distantly in tow.

“Ultima! How’s it goin’? Anything interesting on your radar?” She asked enthusiastically, unceremoniously plopping herself down at one of the benches along either side of the small, rectangular table.

“Nothing yet,” Ultima sighed, its holographic leaping up from the table to hang upside-down from the light fixtures above. “Some annoyed complaints from other parts of the Solar System, confused transmissions, the works. I’ve given the agreed-on response, of course -- a polite way of saying ‘fuck off. We have work to do.’” It replied, shrugging lazily. “I suppose nothing is better than something right now, though, boring as it is. We still don’t know precisely what the PUNT ships are up to, or if we’re even going to beat them to the punch, but...”

“The sooner we act, the better.” Amenabar interjected, earning a curt nod from everyone present. “They may as well be Nazis. We can’t afford to pull punches, diplomatic protocol be damned. It’s a good thing that the General Assembly agrees. Not that I’d expect otherwise, I mean. They usually do.”

“It’s a good thing they do,” Leopard -- a towering, broad-shouldered, black-haired man -- interjected, briefly reaching up to scratch his bushy beard. “Because, I’ll be frank; I’m looking forward to pummeling these sons-of-bitches. Who in their right mind wouldn’t be?”

Suddenly, Ultima found its attention wrenched away from the mess hall, a transmission hammering into its processors.
[code][Emergency transmission received:]
”This is Admiral 1-103 Akari Stands Resolute Against The Dark. We have come under concerted assault by the forces of the People’s Union of New Terra. We have suffered direct strike by numerous nuclear weapons. Casualties unknown, but high. Requesting support against the aggressor. Heaven preserve us.”[/code]

“*Oh*. Oh, that’s...”

Without a moment of hesitation, Ultima re-routed the transmission to the command staff, cringing as the Strzyga turned to face it...

And then, a reply, as alarms began to blare, bathing the ship in angry red light. Instantly, the soldiers scattered about the mess hall began to rise to their feet, rushing out of the room, some with lunch trays carried in their arms, while others lay abandoned where they sat.

[code]This is Admiral Briganto. Orders are to immediately divert toward Ishtar, maximum speed. Transmit an encrypted reply.[/code]

Thankfully, for a person with such enormous computational power at its disposal, rapid, robust encryption was practically effortless, requiring little more than the digital equivalent of a flick of the wrist.

[code]This is Ultima Verba, transmitting as the primary controlling persona of "Strasbourg" and first through fourth of five Naval Action Forces. We are diverting toward your location; ETA in-system in approximately fourty-five minutes. Transmitting targeting datalink codes.[/code]