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(Sorry I haven't been on don't ask PM me when you weant me to RP!)

Vice Admiral Somtaww pushed a button on his chair's console, which accepted the transmission from the Lustian.

"This is Hydra Actual, go ahead Lustian."

"We are launching as of now, in T-minus 4 minutes, 23 seconds. We'll enter Hyperspace as I finish this. Your deployment will be approximately 5 million kilometers in front of us. You will proceed in, while we stay on the system's edge. If they buy that, then they will launch craft at your ship. Once we've confirmed their launch, we will enter hyperspace to hop in behind them, cutting off their ground forces from their fleet, and we will destroy them. We should have enough fleet strength to divert whatever craft you need to support you and make sure you stay alive. Once that is done, keep your fighters and ship on high-alert, since we are expecting a retalitory strike. If they don't come immediately, we'll launch marines for the surface, while repairing whatever ships are still around, including yours. I'll tell you this, right now though, if things get messy on the ground, we may need your assistance, at whatever price you ask."

Meanwhile, on the ground at Galatea...


Asrael wondered what else could go wrong. The occupation was getting messy. Now no one was allowed to go anywhere, unless a squad watched them. What had turned into a division of ground troops with armor support, turned into five divisions with armor support, and even a ZAL platoon was on the ground. That's how badly things had deteroiated. Now they had snipers shooting at guys, and he wasn't sure how many of his ODTs were down, but thankfully no one had been killed... yet.


However, Asrael's gut instinct, and those of the 13th who were true veterans, meaning they've been around for at least 5 years, and that meant not many, since the average attrition rate for the 13th ODT was about 2 years for someone fresh, and longer then that if they were veteran. Of course, Attrition meant that they were just plain old killed. No one left the 13th. No one.

Asrael didn't like the weather. Neither did anyone else. It was... still, to say the least. Cloudy, and still. And humid too, but that didn't matter to the Zurian Light Infantry, whos jumpsuits kept them cool and dry.

Asrael knew something was coming, and it wasn't just a regular old storm, like the one about to break overhead, but one of those storms. Sighing to himself, he entered into the Zurian Light Infantry Command tent, which was as large as most suburban houses, and kept the majority of the Zurian command staff and advanced tactical communications and planning equipment. Since no-one could see a Zurian, he took off his helmet first chance he got and breathed in fresh, non-filtered air. Some of the more senior officers greeted him cordially, but he didn't want to hear it, so he replied with grunts and barely intelligable things and he arrived at the central planning station, which had a massive holo-graph table in the middle, with a map of a city. A Division Commander was arguing with some of his Captains over proper control techniques of a foreign population, and Asrael silenced them with a pretty blood-thirsty comment.

"Hell, if you want control, just send a few ZAL squads on a rampage, until they run out of ammo, then recall them. Things will get quiet real fast." Asrael said it without emotion and pretty blunt. They stared at him with shock, while Asrael moved on. He admitted to himself that he was in a bad mood, but Malyea had that same apprehension that he did.


Something was up. He wasn't sure what It was, but It was up.


*******************************

Air Lord Als Nex's opposite, the Flight Commander of a third of the total Zurian fighter contingent, or those that had survived, or roughly four hundred fighters, looked at the launch bay of the Carrier above Luthien, and stood in awe at the fire-power each Fighter represented. Sure each fighter was damnably hard to produce and expensive, and now irreplaceable, since none of the Carriers that had made it away from Zuria contained the manufacturing equipment nesseccary to build them. While the carriers that had made it out of Zuria's Aerospace, and survived could fabricate new parts, they simply did not have the capacity to churn out a new fighter.

Each fighter, however, was devestating against any target really, since it carried four Mass Energy Cannons, and enough armor to make Corvettes jealous. On the other hand, each fighter was nearly the size of a Corvette. While the fighters weren't particularly fast, and couldn't really get to a fight that was distant, they were out right nasty in a knife-fight, since each fighter could pull 20-25 gees in a turn, they could only do it in short sprints. But that was all that was nesseccary.

((Say what? That's the Zurian Flight Commander, not yours. He's on his own damn carrier.))