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The skies above Earth were never silent. As the home of Humanity, capital planet of the Federation of Terran Worlds and centre of naval activity of the sector, there were always ships coming and going from the planet. It was, to Admiral Strugar, an unsettling experience. He knew it shouldn't be; He'd been born and raised aboard the orbital colonies that vied for space amidst the communication satellites, docking platforms, military installations and defence platforms. It was those platforms that were the cause of Strugar's apprehension, and as he stood aboard the bridge of his transport corvette he listened to the back and forth that ensured their survival. "This is Skipper One-Three to Earth Tower on Standard Four, transmitting ident-codes now and requesting clearance to dock with U.S.S. Mercury." "Copy that Skipper One-Three," the operator replied. "You are cleared to approach. Defence grid standing down. Welcome to Earth." Strugar stared at the two dozen glowing runes on the ship's main display that represented the defence platforms. Each one was more than a match for even the most powerful of warships. To date there was no record of a friendly fire incident, but Strugar had never trusted the system. His left hand moved automatically to scratch around his cybernetic eye; his real one had been blasted out by an attack robot in his first years as an officer. Two millimetres to the right and he'd have been dead

The sight of the Mercury soothed the Admiral's nerves. She was a fine ship; her structure was composed of elegant curves and sapphire blue hull plates. The shape put the Admiral in mind of a dolphin captured mid-jump. It spoke of motion, fluidity and grace. It was a thing of beauty, though he knew well enough that it could just as easily be a thing of terror. The idea of the Mercury going to war was an unpalatable one, but some things could not be avoided. He was greeted by Captain Re'kij, a young Drakonian officer whose rise through the ranks was nothing less than meteoric. His scales were a soft amber colour, flecked with green in places and rounded, approachable features. He saluted, as best a Drakonian could, as the Admiral came aboard. "Allow me to introduce to you my first officer," Re'kij said as the initial formalities were concluded. "Admiral, meet Cognis-31." The humanoid who stepped forward left Strugar somewhat puzzled. The old Admiral felt his hands wandering upward, but he checked the subconscious impulse and turned it into an idle scratch of the chin. "You are an android?" Cognis nodded. His face was vaguely familiar, but then most Androids looked alike; there were only a few default facial templates. The machine had the appearance of a moderately handsome Human male, somewhere in the late twenties perhaps, with dark hair and noticeably artificial green eyes. "I am a Sixth Generation Android constructed by the Rhode Island Silverman Institute. I assure you I am more than capable of performing the duties of a first officer." "I did not mean to question your capabilities," Strugar answered. "My apologies if it came across that way." The trio began their walk to the bridge. The interior of the ship was reminiscent of the ancient sea-faring pleasure cruisers; all faux-mahogany and brass. The splendour was conceived in such a way as not to hamper efficiency, however, and glimpses through opening or closing doors into the engineering and maintenance decks revealed the familiar, chaotic clutter of pipes, machinery and consoles he'd come to expect of a working ship. "Out of interest, Captain, how many Androids do you have aboard?" "Standing crew only has Cognis," the Drakonian replied as he glanced sidelong at the Admiral. "However, for the mission we are being entrusted with a platoon of Rottweilers. Is that a problem, sir?" Without really noticing, his left hand rose to scratch around his implants. "No problem, Captain. I just pity the poor sods that come up against them."

They stepped out onto the bridge and Re'kij settled into his command chair. "Tell me, Admiral, did you see action in the last expedition?" "I did. Those Kyyreni fight like demons; we lost a lot of good men for very little gain. Everything I've heard about their new ruler worries me. With luck, we can reach Icara by September; I just hope this 'King Jasat' doesn't make his move before then." The Drakonian shifted in his seat so as to more easily converse with the Admiral stood beside him. "Sir... what exactly is our mission in Icara?" "You've read the briefing documents, haven't you?" Strugar asked, giving the Captain a puzzled look. "We are to secure the Icaran Warp Gate as priority, with immediate secondary objectives being Icara herself and all planetoids, orbitals and installations in the system. We are to hold and defend the system and, if the system cannot be secured, we are to destroy the Warp Gate to ensure the Kyyreni can never pose a direct threat to the Confederation." "So there is no ulterior motive?" The Captain inquired, probing the matter as a man might seek which tooth was the source of his discomfort. "No, Re'kij, there is not. The Icarans are independent by choice; it is not our place to save them. Our concern is entirely with the safety of our own. Better to fight the Kyyreni in their back garden than let them get to ours." "I see sir," the Dragkonian replied stiffly.

If he had anything more to add, it was quickly forgotten when Cognis piped up anxiously. "There is a situation developing." "Confirmed, sir!" the communications officer said moments later. "Earth Tower has gone dark. We've lost their signal... now getting automated distress signals from New Holland Orbital; primary power systems have gone off-line." Cognis-32's eyes began to whir in their sockets, rapidly focussing and un-focussing; a sign of high-intensity data processing. "Detecting major power disruptions across the North American Eastern Seaboard; NA Central, NA West Seaboard, Central American Network..." the Android shook itself as it returned to 'Human' operating modes. "Sirs, we appear to be suffering a catastrophic failure of the entire planetary power grid!" "How is that possible?" Strugar asked the bridge in general, shocked into inactivity by the catastrophe. Re'kij, to his credit, was not. "All hands, Action Stations - Condition Red! Sever all connections to all external networks; I want this ship dark! Communication via emergency transponder units only! Nothing gets access to our internal network, understood?" "Aye sir!" came the confirmation. "And send a broadcast on all emergency frequencies to order all ships and stations to do likewise. If this is an attack we cannot allow them access to our defences!" "The defences..." it felt as though a large lump of ice was now working its way down the Admiral's spine. "Re'kij, the planetary defences are automated - remote operation only!" Cognis froze stiff, eyes whirring audibly in their sockets. "Alert sent," he confirmed. "Earth Tower has acknowledged on emergency channels; orbitals are disconnected from the system loop and powered down." "Good," the Captain answered. "Now, Admiral, let's see if we can't make some sense of this madness..." * * *

Alone in the dark, a humanoid creature sat cocooned in machinery. Monitor screens and display units of all shapes and sizes were arrayed in front, above and beside him, each providing a unique data-feed detailing the progress of a specific packet cluster. He paid them no mind; his cranial implants were feeding the exact same information directly into his mind a thousand times faster than his eyes ever could. Two grey tufts of fur at the end of his pointed ears twitched idly as the intense intake-outake strain began to cause neural misfires in parts of his brain. Emerald green eyes glazed over, claw-tipped hands providing only cursory taps of the control console; Velius was lost in a world only he could experience. It was the product of years of work, of the acquisition and development of the most sophisticated, powerful and outright terrifying cyber-attack system the galaxy had ever seen. His mind hopped across the glowing chords of information, weaving through shimmering shoals of data packets to admire, however briefly, the assault cluster nestled at the heart of his system. It was inaccessible to him; to do so would be the end of the attack, and likely destroy his mind in the process. It had begun its life as an FTL drive and served to shunt parts of his system out of reality, relocating them to hyperspace without actually altering their position in space. It was genius; only his brilliant mind could have conceived such an application. Translated in this way, the computers were running at different speeds to the rest of reality, effectively giving them twenty times more effectiveness. To do this with an old machine could let it out-perform a state of the art system. Do it to a machine that he had created, a machine that was already racing ahead of the cutting edge, and it made him a God. The thought caused his dry, neglected lips to part a fraction, shifting into a reptilian smile. The bony spines down his back and tail quivered in anticipation of the next phase; the final phase. His consciousness returned to its physical shell, and as his mind resettled he became aware of the headache forming in his frontal lobes. Dehydration was the most probable cause, but that did not concern him. There was plenty of time... With slow, stiff movements, Velius reached for a bottle of cool water and quenched his thirst. After a moment's thought he popped a few energy tablets for good measure. He would have to be sharp for this. The last thing he wanted was to allow some frailty of the flesh to deny him victory over Earth. It was a good half hour before he reconnected, returning to the comfortable familiarity of the datum-world. His heart-rate quickened as the mind's eye took in the information returns from the first wave of attacks and surveyed what was yet to be unleashed. Victory was his; he had only to will it into being. "Kayla..." the name escaped his lips as a dull, coarse rasp. "I hope you're watching this. I want you to see what a true Hacker can achieve..." A sharp twitch of his spiny tail indicated the beginning of the next attack. His body stiffened as more and more of his mind was drawn into the neural-link connecting him, mentally and physically, to his machines. At his bedside a clocked ticked over, unheeded by its owner. It had been calibrated to Earth Standard Time. 14:00 exactly, July 1st 2891; a date that no-one on Earth would forget.

* * *

Slowly but surely, the planet was recovering. Earth Tower was signalling once more and the New Holland Orbital, along with other stricken orbiting colonies and installations, had at least been brought to emergency running conditions. The main power grids were still off-line, but chunks of Europe, Asia and the Australia had managed to restore a closed power loop and were back online. For Strugar and the Navy, their primarily concern was the flow of ships. Some were missing, whilst others had strayed from flight paths and were being corralled into secure holding patterns. The crews of those ships were to be detained pending investigation. No-one was willing to rule out the possibility that the assault have come from a ship, or at least been co-ordinated for someone else to take advantage of the downed defence grid. The Mercury had been dispatched past Luna to locate and guide in a trio of troop transports deployed from Europa. Each one carried a full regiment of soldiers and their support staff. Originally intended for the Icaran Expedition, it was likely that they would now be requisitioned to reinforce Earth. It was unfortunate, but unavoidable; they would have to make do with the forces gathering in the Draco system instead. "Transport See-Three-Dash-Dee-Four-One-One-Niner-Six, be advised you are to adjust your course by point One-Oh-Three lateral and proceed directly to the equatorial belt. You will be met by tugs and guided in at the high orbit perimeter. Go slow and careful; it's a real mess up here." Captain Re'kij huffed out his irritations as the transport pilot acknowledged the order. "First Delta Star and now this? They can't be connected, can they?" Strugar scratched the bridge of his nose and fought the urge to rub his tired right eye; it had been a very long day, and it was likely to get longer. "We cannot rule out that possibility," he confessed. "For now we just have to do the job that's in front of us." Cognis-32 had taken over the navigation console for the time being. He looked up from his screen to face the officers with a well-scripted look of concern on his face. "Movement abeam, sir; orbital platform at grid C-C-One is tracking toward us." "They've got the defences back on? Good news at last!" The Drakonian captain breathed a sigh of relief. "Transmit our clearance codes." "They are not responding, sir," Cognis replied. "Defence platform continuing to track targets. It is locking on to the lead transport ship." "Ket'nol!" Re'kij barked, letting slip the Drakonian curse. "Blanked broadcast right now! Earth Tower be advised C-C-One is targeting friendlies!" At the same time a similar, panicked message began to broadcast from the convoy. "This is Captain Fallon of the Europa transport convoy to Earth Defence! We are buddy spiked! Disengage the defence grid! Disengage! Disengage!" The bridge crew of the Mercury watched in horror as the station's main guns came online. Power built up in the capacitor banks linked to the twin beam cannons mounted on the central turret mount of the platform. They were designed to inflict crippling damage to even the largest warship; a troop transporter wouldn't have a prayer. "This is Admiral Strugar to Earth Tower, de-activate all defence platforms immediately! Authorisation-" He was cut short by a bolt of energy fire. Two beams of energy, so bright they could not be looked upon directly by Human eyes, lanced out from the platform and carved across the transport ship. The craft was atomised in a heartbeat, scattering a million micro-fragments out in all directions and leaving nothing but a sharp thermal echo in the space it once inhabited. Nearly four thousand lives had been extinguished in the blink of an eye. Strugar stormed over to the communications station and beat the console into giving him an all-channels signal. "This is Admiral Strugar declaring Alert Black-One! All ships and personnel to treat Earth Defence Grid as hostile! Repeat, treat as hostile!"

The warning was sent out, but it was immediately lost in the white nose of a planet in disarray. Over the open channel came three hundred voices all at once, each telling their own tale of terror. "This is Denmark! We've lost control of the fusion reactor station! Core temperature is rising! We can't stop it! Requesting-" "-eat, this is U.S.S. Dutiful we are being fired upon by Defence Platforms! Requesting emergency assistance! We ne-" "-ning! We're burning! God help us we're burning! Somebody, anybody, help us!" "This is New Holland! Emergency Protocols have failed! Life support has failed, attitude thrusters misfiring... we're losing orbital cohesion! Priority assistance required!" "Madagascar Coast Guard to scramble all available air-sea rescue craft. We have multiple life boats incoming. Reports indicate catastrophic system failure of Orbital Lab Cluster-" "-eat, all hands abandon ship! All hands abandon ship! The Duti-" Stugar turned his back on the chatter. Pure rage pounded through his body as the scale of the catastrophe became apparent; Earth had been hit hard, so hard it might not recover, and they were helpless.

"Cognis-32... what is the status of the defence grid platform at C-C-One?" The Android processed all available data feeds, which were depressingly hard to come by. "It appears to have gone silent, sir. Incoming reports suggest the other platforms are likewise shutting down in sequence... I believe we have regained control." It was as though someone was waiting for that announcement. All communications stopped immediately; every signal, every distress call, was simultaneously silenced. In their place was a static-heavy transmission of analogue silence. "Greetings, people of Earth," a reptilian voice purred, arrogant superiority dripping from every syllable. "This is Velius. Your world is now mine. You have four minutes to surrender to me, to bow and scrape before your new God. Fail to obey, and you shall feel my displeasure." "Sirs!" Cognis once more cried out. "Orbital platforms are re-aligning themselves; they're turning toward the planet!" "No..." the simple word was uttered in quiet horror by the Admiral, who was once again scratching his implants. "No, no, no! We have to regain control of the system!" "Command is working on that, sir!" the communications officer responded immediately. "We have a priority signal coming in: they've got an electronic counter-measure team assembled in San Francisco. They have Packet Storm with them." The name didn't mean much to the Admiral, but he was more interested in the new signals coming in; Command had restored some semblance of order and was rallying all available ships to form a co-ordinated fleet. A young woman's voice came to them from San Francisco, her words given urgency by the edge of fear that came with them. "Emergency directive from Starfleet Command: Engage defence platform in grid A-E-Six. All fleet vessels, attack pattern Beta. Satellite GN-01 must be protected at all costs! Repeat, satellite must not be destroyed!" "Confirmed," Re'kij answered. "Mercury to all ships, form on us! We are going in hot!"

It was, for Strugar, a nightmare made real. He had never trusted machines or automated weapon systems, not since a reprogrammed Rottweiler had come so close to killing him. Ever since that day he had feared this very eventuality, and now it was playing out before him. The Masamune took the first hit. She was a mighty ship, but even she was not built to withstand the full force of the defence platforms. The main guns stayed silent for now, but the secondary armament was considerable; more than enough to overwhelm the ship's shields to the point of critical collapse. She fell back, diverting everything to engines and allowing the Normandy to cut across her bow and shield her from the second volley.Perseus and Corsair opened fire together, unleashing torpedoes and torrents of energy weapon discharge into the shields of platform twelve. They became its next targets, but by then the Mercury and Winter Moon were able to add their weight of fire to the exchange. It was a slow and difficult dance; the vessels could not withstand the full onslaught of the station, nor could any one ship hope to overwhelm it alone. They established their attack formation, surrounding the ship and kiting from all angles. In twos or threes the ships would power up and push forward, daring the orbital to fire upon them. As they drew fire the next wave would push in, unloading all they had so the initial craft could fall back and recover. It was hard to say if they were winning, or even if they were making progress. Strugar watched the main screen as vital information on the station flowed across it, detailing the power returns that signalled where shield power was being routed, or what ship was next to be targeted by phase cannons and torpedoes. The first casualties began to come in. The Frigate Chelmsford was locked onto and took a pounding, her shields flayed off by phase cannon fire before the laser emitters struck the hull. She turned to flee as she had twice before, but this time the station wouldn't let her go. It continued to fire, ignoring the closer threat of the_Normandy_. The stricken ship fled behind the Masaumune a mass volley of torpedoes was unleashed. The cruiser, already badly mauled, was unable to withstand the assault and broke apart, showering the planet below with chunks of sundered hull plating. The trailing elements of the torpedo volley bit deep into the inner decks, igniting the fuel reserves and torpedo magazine in a spectacular double-strike. The resulting blast was powerful enough to reduce the entire ship to cosmic dust. The fireball enveloped the fleeing Chelmsford as it passed and gouged her drive units clean away. Brutally crippled, the frigate fell out of the sky with alarming speed; her remains burned up in the atmosphere somewhere over Jamaica. No life boats were launched.

No-one had stopped to watch them die. The Mercury swung past the orbital, dropping ordnance and firing every weapon it had at a single shield projector pylon, hoping to overwhelm the system. The Normandy was likewise slugging it out, brawling point blank and giving a rate of fire that was astonishing for a vessel of its age. "Corsair, evasion pattern Delta! Perseus and Normandy, provide recovery fire! Sensors readings show the station is down to forty percent shields - focus on the fifth dorsal arc, full spread!" Strugar's voice boomed out across the bridge. The station's orbit had dropped noticeably now, but it still had enough automotive power to maintain its flight path. "Admiral, be advised; platform twelve will have a firing solution on GN-01 in ninety-three seconds." Cognis' grim announcement did nothing to calm anyone's nerves. "Admiral Strugar to Starfleet Command: how long until we can regain control of the system?" "Unknown!" was the painfully honest reply. "Packet Storm is working on something, but I don't know what. I'm sorry, Admiral... I can't help you." The Admiral nodded sadly. With the weary sigh of a man who knew his duty, but did not relish it, Strugar turned to face the helm officer. "Position our ship directly between the satellite and platform twelve's main battery. Our ship should be able to absorb the impact." "We will be destroyed in the process," Cognis pointed out. "I know," Strugar replied. "How long until the station fires?" Re'kij nodded. He rose from his captain's chair one last time. "Thirty seconds. All hands, this is the captain. We must... it..." he paused to blink away the tears. "It was an honour to serve with all of you."

The Mercury took the impact square on the nose. Even with shields full forward there was no hope of surviving. The beams cored her, splitting her forward sections open like petals of a flower. Men and equipment were blasted out into vacuum by explosive decompression, or else incinerated when volatile fuel or munitions cooked off under the impact. The luckiest souls were on decks four to nine, sections one to thirteen; these were the men and women who died instantly, obliterated by the beam cannons. Next most fortunate were the engineering crews fighting to keep the power outputs high enough to feed the ship's guns and shields. The remnants of the beam's power caused a colossal misfire of the reactor core and blew the entire compartment to pieces. Most of the engineering crew had just enough time to realise the ship had been hit before becoming nothing more than scorch marks on the rapidly-deforming metalwork. For over a hundred souls, the end was not so forthcoming. Those trapped inside the medical bay found themselves cornered by fires that burned out of control. They ceased only when all available oxygen was consumed, leaving the survivors to asphyxiate, or else try to survive with what oxygen supplies they could find. Only four avoided suffocation, only to freeze to death within minutes. The bridge, along with most of deck one, was all but destroyed when decks two and three were violently compressed upward into it. Captain Re'kij was crushed to death against the ceiling, whilst most of the remaining crew were sucked out by violent decompression. By some miracle, Cognis-32 managed to escape mostly intact and rescue Admiral Strugar, who had anchored himself to the remains of the navigation console, and drag him to a lifeboat.

As they fell back toward the planet, Strugar watched the end of the battle through the pod's porthole. Station Twelve, crippled and burning, had sunk too low to draw line of fire to the satellite. Its weapons had stopped tracking targets, and every shot fired from the six remaining Starships was impacting visibly against its hull. The station was dead; the satellite had been saved. "Cognis... how many lifeboats can you detect from the Mercury?" "Eight," the Android replied. "However, at least half of these appear to be misfires. I estimate no more than twenty survivors. I am sorry, Admiral..." "Don't be," Strugar replied. "You are not to blame for this. You did all you could."

It would be seven hours before the Admiral and Cognis were rescued. By then power was being restored to the planet and additional fleet elements were being recalled. In total, twenty-three personnel were recovered from the Mercury, though none of the military androids were salvageable. The Excalibur and Redona, having avoided the fighting due to their deployment around Jupiter, were ordered to translate out of system and head for the Costima system. According to Packet Storm that was where Velius would be found, and as the reports of what had taken place at San Francisco game in, Strugar saw no reason to doubt her hunch. It took two days for anyone to get around to telling him what he already knew. The message came from Admiral Xerces, who visited him in the Berlin military hospital. "Admiral Strugar, I'm glad you're making a recovery." "Thank you," Strugar replied. His eyes drifted to the datapad in his fellow Admiral's hand. "I regret to inform you the Icaran Expedition has been denied due to exceptional circumstances. Earth is hurting, Admiral; we cannot send troops to our allies when the Confederation, if not the Homeworld itself, is vulnerable." "I understand," Strugar replied, declining to read the official dismissal. "With respect, it isn't me you need to apologise too. The people of Icara were counting on us." "They will have to make do alone." That was the end of it. As Xerces departed, Strugar said aloud. "But we will come to their aid eventually, won't we?" Xerces nodded. "Don't worry about that, Strugar; the Confederacy does not forget its enemies, and we never, ever let them escape..."