Chương 149: Nova Wars - Chapter (5x5)x([5x5]/5) - Target Synchronization

Students and historians reading about this war please remember one simple thing. Thoe numbers? They represent people. People with hopes and dreams. Who, for the most part, didn't even get a chance to scream. - From " The Hasslehoff's Bloody Jaws", Admiral (Upper Decks) of the Warsteel (Formerly Grand Most High Executor) Mru'udaDa'ay, New Singapore Press, TerraSol, 12 PTE (Post Terran Emergence) In action thrillers and spy entertainment media it was mentioned frequently.

Archeologists feared finding manufacturing markers relating to it. It had been a place of myth and legend. A place of fearsome creations and terrible engines of warfare and destruction. Fourth planet from a rather energetic yellow star. Hateful Mars. Blood red from a distance. Red up close. It was not the lemurs of Terra's homeworld, but it was important to them. In ancient times they had worshipped it. Had embraced it in myth and legend.

When they had reached the level of technology to colonize it they had eventually reached it. They had turned it into a massive foundry and manufacturing planet. The Hate Anvils of Mars. Everything from bayonets to power armor to Pacific Rim class Jeagermechs to the hulls of Bolos to starships to missiles were manufactured on Mars. Weapons, armor, and war materials that flowed from the ever active hate anvils were instilled, flush with, full of rage and wrath that could be measured and observed.

At the end of the Second Precursor War finding a database or a memory core or anything with vast computer power with the markings of Hateful Mars or the Mad Lemurs of Terra was a reason for fear. Those relics hated even though their creators were gone. But the Mad Lemurs of Terra weren't gone. They were, but they weren't. Like most things in life, the answer was much more complicated than a simple yes or no. The Mad Lemurs of Terra were cut off from the rest of the universe and the universe was cut off from them.

That did not mean they were gone. While almost forty-thousand years had passed for the rest of the universe, roughly five decades had passed for the Mad Lemurs of Terra. For most species, very little would have occurred. There was massive amounts of debris left over from the Unified Council's desperate attack upon the Sol System. There were literally billions of EPOWs captured that needed care. Most species would have accomplished very little in those five years.

Most would have given into despair at the loss of the outside universe. The Terrans hadn't cared. And they taught those trapped with them how to not care. But, they were busy little lemurs. And the Hate Anvils of Mars rang with wrath and fury even as the Wrath Forges of Betrayed Mercury went to work. With The Bag opened, the Hate Anvils lit with malevolent glee. True, the Mar-gite were the threat, not the Unified Council that had been expected.

But a missile will kill a Mar-gite as easily as it would kill an enemy from the Council. Six months after the Bag had opened the Ornislarp has attacked Violet, the ambassador and emmisary from the Confederacy of Aligned Systems. To the Mad Lemurs of Terra that had an additional message. Not only were the Ornislarp unwilling to talk at that time, they did not project any time in the future they would be willing to talk. Which meant: War to the hilt. Something the clever little lemurs of Terra were familiar with.

Which meant there were two enemies that had been identified. The Mar-gite and whatever was behind them and now the Ornislarp. Whoever was building the Hellspace Barrier had not revealed themselves, but the lemurs were ready to fight whoever they were too. Another reason piled up on all the other reasons. The beacons on Gangly Meep were lit. White and pink, burning with enough intensity that they could be seen from Terra itself.

The beacons weren't calling for aid, they were declaring to the universe that the Neko Marines were selecting a Joan. Another reason piled up on top of all the othe reasons. All of them coming down on the shoulders of a man that most people would not look twice at. His Pop-Top profile rarely got more than one hit or like in a ninety day period. His MyBook page rarely had visitors. This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

He was stout of body, with a slight paunch, a scraggly goatee, a shaved head, watery brown eyes and a weak double chin. He was short and soft looking. When he wore his uniform he looked out of place, like someone wearing a uniform they bought at a thrift store rather than the high ranking officer that the brass and iron claimed he was. A movie producer would have not even allowed the gentleman to be placed in the background of a shot.

Nobody who did not know him or of him would believe he was an active duty serving member of the Solarian Iron Dominion military services. If someone asked which branch he was in, which branch of service the portly man represented, they would just get a "Yes" as he was above even the Joint Chief Board. He controlled all of the Iron Dominion's military and civilian infrastructure and logistics at a level where branch of service no longer mattered.

It was his job to ensure that everyone got what they needed, when they needed it, preferably in abundance. In a rarity he was fit for the job. Perhaps more than fit. Even the other officers felt gratitude that the portly man was the one in charge of it all. They all knew that the portly officer was above inter-service rivalries. He would not withhold supplies, manpower, or information from anyone to make another branch look better. His focus was on winning the war. No matter which war it was.

Sure, it wasn't as exciting as the movies made it out to be. He rarely fired his weapon and often was unsure where it was. He had difficulty passing the physical fitness test every year. But his actions, his orders, they won wars as sure as the bullets and bombs of the battlefield did. He was General Imak Takilikakik, often referred to as "Tik-tac" by others. And he was a man who won wars. He was up late, at his desk, going over testing results. Warsteel Mark 1E7c3. 0. 38% greater resistance to kinetics. 62.

88% greater resistance to phasic power after setting. 62. 65% greater resistance to acidic based attacks. He compared the numbers to the other tests. He went over the tests themselves as well as the results. Then he zipped it all up into a folder and forwarded it all to materials and substance experts for their analysis. He leaned back, rubbing his forearms together as he looked at the dark window. There were stars in the sky. He stared at them for a long moment full of wonder.

For almost fifty years the night sky had been empty. Now the stars were back. There was a slight hissing sound behind him. He tapped the alert button under the desk even as he used his implant to trigger a silent security alert. He swiveled his chair around to look at his office. The smell of brimstone and scorched metal made him wince slightly. Standing in the middle of his office was a little red creature.

It had backwards knees and hocks, a long face with big flappy ears, a scrawny body with its ribs obvious, and big feet. It also had on a cap and was holding a datacube.

"Whew, made it," the little creature rasped. It panted for a moment even as General Takilikakik stared at it.

"Whew, that was a hell of a jump."

"Jump from where?" General Takilikakik asked, hoping to engage it long enough for security to bust in and grab it.

"Nope, I was told to deliver this by the Big Gal and come straight home," the imp said. It hopped forward and tossed the datacube.

"Think fast!" General Takilikakik bit down on a curse as he reflexively grabbed the datacube. The imp vanished in a puff of foul smelling smoke. Turning around to facer his desk, General Takilikakik set the datacube on the desk, away from his computer, even as he used his feet to unplug his computer's power cord. Two Marines busted in.

"Too late, gentlemen," General Takilikakik said. He nodded.

"Less than three minutes. Admirable and impressive." He pointed at the cube.

"Get intelligence up here. The Matron of Hell is back and her minions are on the move." 0-0-0-0-0"Well?" General Takilikakik asked. The Military Intelligence liaison adjusted his tie for a second.

"I need you to keep an open mind," he said. General Takilikakik chuckled.

"You'd be surprised how willing I am to entertain alternate theories." The Colonel just nodded again.

"All right. The datacube is ancient. We're talking, it uses an atomic crystalline matrix for memory," the Colonel moved his fingers up and down his tie.

"It says it is part of the inventory for someplace called "Atlantis" as well as has a pre-Glassing manufacturer data code." General Takilikakik nodded.

"That is not surprising." The Colonel rolled up the bottom of his tie for about and inch then let it go.

"The data is from the Grey Lady, which is part of Task Force Lonely Peach." Again General Takilikakik nodded.

"It's got a ton of data on it. What they've seen, what they've found, what they've identified," the Colonel continued.

"It also has data from one of the Immortals as well as data that's supposedly from the Matron of Hell, the Detainee." General Takilikakik just nodded.

"The data from Legion as well as the after action reports from Task Force Lonely Peach are pointing at something behind the Mar-gite," the Colonel said.

"While that information is helpful to Task Force Lonely Peach, it doesn't help the Confederacy or the Dominion at this moment," General Takilikakik mused.

"We have a thousand times the Mar-gite forces then we've ever encountered spreading out to take on the whole Confederacy. We have to stop those constructs or we'll be fighting the Mar-gite for the next two-thousand years." This time it was the Colonel who nodded.

"I'm going to give you seventy-two hours. I want everyone to go over that data. We have to find a way to get active force multipliers both in space and on the ground to stop the Mar-gite. If we don't have one, then we go to the planning boards. If we have one, we start manufacturing it," General Takilikakik said. He looked at the holotank in his office, reaching out and touching a finger on the fourth globe.

"Get the Hate Anvil warmed up." He closed his eyes for a moment.

"The Confederacy let victory drain away their strength. It's up to us to save them if we want to save ourselves." The Colonel just nodded.

"Let's get to work," General Takilikakik said. [The Universe Liked That] 0-0-0-0-0 AKLTAK FREE FLIGHT I think that Terra's going to bring a lot more to this fight than any of you are giving them credit for. ---NOTHING FOLLOWS--- TELKAN FORGE WORLDS I'm just saying, they're one stellar system, and they're forty thousand years behind everyone. ---NOTHING FOLLOWS--- AKLTAK FREE FLIGHT Well, if you're so advanced, would you mind shipping me a few nutriforges or maybe a creation engine? I sure could use a few.

---NOTHING FOLLOWS--- TELKAN FORGE WORLDS Everyone keeps harping on those items, but there's more to all of this than those two items. ---NOTHING FOLLOWS--- HAMAROOSAN PINCHING FESTIVAL Like, oh, cloning banks, their MAD programs, their black box technology, and the fact that they never went off of war time footing, fully expecting to come out of the Bag and be facing a nearly victorious Unified Council?

It's not just the creation engines and the forges, but combined with their cloning technology, they're going to bring a lot more than you all give them credit for. ---NOTHING FOLLOWS--- CLONE WORLDS CONSORTIUM Is this thing on? ---PANIC FOLLOWS---