Section 1: Deception

Chapter 1, part 1
The Pentagon Project

Introduction
(from the Sins of a Solar Empire manual)

The Vasari Empire

    The ancient Vasari Empire once ruled over countless worlds. Beginning at the galactic core, the empire expanded uniformly, and brought hundreds of alien races under its control. While most of the species the Vasari encountered were primitive and peacefully subjugated, more advanced civilizations were harshly enslaved. Once conquered,  these species were integrated into Vasari society as "valued citizens," giving them minimal standing in the Empire. Each world was then locked down and ruled from vast orbital structures to minimize the chance of rebellion.

    As with all empires, the Vasari civilization's fall began from within. Ten thousand years ago the inner worlds of the empire fell suddenly silent. Expecting nothing more than rebellion by the local species, a local wing of the Dark Fleet was sent to restore order, but no status reports were ever received. Soon three more planets fell silent off the communications grid, and while Internal Intelligence deliberated over the response of what could only be the work of traitors, several more worlds fell silent - including the ancient Vasari home world.

    The rate of expansion of this unknown enemy was astonishing, far exceeding even that of the entire Dark Fleet! As a last resort, the Dark Fleet Veerr brought the bulk of their forces back from the expansionary frontier for a blind assault on whatever was eating it's way out of the empire's core worlds. When a single, heavily-damaged warship from the Dark Fleet appeared out of phase space in orbit of a planet on the empire's perimeter, the inhabitants decided to board the ship. What they found were the remains of a once battle-hardened crew driven mad with fear.

    In a rare act of autonomy, the colony made the decision to evacuate to a system far from the Empire. It would prove to be the last time they would ever see Vasari space. For the next 10,000 years the Vasari refugee fleet traveled from system to system, dropping warning beacons on their way, spending only enough time to replenish their resources before moving on. No matter how far the Vasari travel, their warning beacons fall silent; their unknown adversary continues on its march toward their extermination.

Vasari space - 10,000 years ago, first month of Krashnak

    Dark Fleet Admiral Commander Vorg looked up from his desk in astonishment, which quickly turned to anger. On his screen, one of the five inner core worlds had fallen silent. Vorg hissed. Filthy rebels! The five inner home worlds made up a pentagonal shape, and a very special project was being constructed there, one only a few members of the highest reaches of the Empire were even aware of. Fewer knew all the details. And now rebels took one of the five!
    Calming himself, Vorg pushed a few buttons and his holographic map of the Empire zoomed in to the 805th division of the Dark Fleet, stationed only a few jumps from the pentagon worlds, as they were collectively called. He pushed another button, and a communication bar popped up, ready to relay his message to whoever commanded that division.
    "The planet Kloxtar has fallen to rebels!" He hissed, "Retrieve it!" His desk automatically recorded his voice and sent it to the commander of the 805th. There was a short delay as the message was delivered and a response was formed, and then a notification sprung up on Vorg's screen. He touched it, and a sharp militaristic voice answered, "We our on our way, Admiral Commander."
    Vorg leaned back in his chair and smiled. Small rebellions always popped up from time to time, it was bound to happen in an empire that had forcefully conquered so many species, but those usually happened in the frontier worlds before the inhabitants really understood the might of the Dark Fleet; never had it happened in any of the home worlds, much less the inner home worlds. The original Vasari home world itself made up the top of the pentagon! Vorg got up and left his desk, leaving the room swathed in darkness. It would take a few days before news of Kloxtar came. The 805th would have to retake Kloxtar's airspace as well as the planet itself. Foolish rebels, this time none would be left alive!

Vasari space - 10,000 years ago, 3rd month of Krashnak

    A sharp beeping noise echoed around Vorg's chambers, and he was up and at his desk in a flash. It had been almost 2 whole months since Kloxtar had fallen silent, and no news had come from the division of the Dark Fleet he had sent to recapture it. Now, as Vorg called up the pentagon sector, his eyes nearly popped out of his head. Two more of the inner home worlds had fallen silent, leaving only the Vasari home world and the world to the left of the pentagon named Hashnak intact! Vorg bellowed loudly in anger. This could only be the work of traitors in the Empire! The 805th must have sided with the enemy! Hurriedly he contacted the other heads of Internal Affairs and scurried to the conference room. Although Vorg was head of Internal Intelligence, for outstanding military service while he was in action, he was allowed to retain the use of his old title. Dark Fleet Admiral Commander. There was no one more powerful.
    In minutes the rest of Internal Affairs was in the conference room. Internal Affairs personnel were always ready at any moment for a crisis. They quietly took their seats, wondering to themselves the purpose of the meeting. The Admiral Commander had sent them a mark Z alert, one of the highest possible alert warnings. As the last member took his seat, Vorg called up the map of the pentagon sector, zooming in so all five worlds were clearly displayed. Only two of the five still sent out a signal. No words were necessary.
    Worried mutterings filled the room, and one member stood up.
    "Rebellion?" He hissed quietly.
    "From all three planets?" Vorg answered, "No, traitors. Two months ago Kloxtar fell to this unknown enemy. Now, not even a half hour ago, these two here fell silent."
    As the heads of the Internal Affairs departments leaned forward to better study the map, Hashnak dimmed and all information from that planet ceased.
    Worried conversations started up again. Vorg caught parts of one close to him.
    "What should we do? Send an investigation?"
    "No, send the Dark Fleet, this is more than mere traitors, this must be an invasion!"
    "Invasion?" Vorg cut in, "Invasion, at the center of our Empire? No my friends, this cannot be an invasion."
    Vorg's eyes flitted over to the head of Internal Economics, the only other in this room who knew of the project in the pentagon sector. Could something have gone wrong? Could something have gone terribly, terribly wrong?
    "In any case," he continued, "we must eliminate this strange occurrence, and for that I do call for the Dark Fleet. But not for a division, I call for the entire Dark Fleet to leave their posts and head without delay to the inner home worlds."
    Once again voices broke out across the room, this time in shock. Abandon the frontier? The entire fleet to the center of the Empire? To Vorg it seemed as if his call would be dismissed. Even him being a former Fleet Admiral Commander seemed not to sway them! They had to confront this now! They must! Then, one by one, the heads of Internal Affairs fell silent as the holographic display caught their attention. Vorg turned back to it as well. The planet Vasar, the ancient home world of the Vasari Empire, home of the conquistadors of old, darkened and fell silent on the holographic map. Even Vorg was speechless. He had needed something to convince them, but not this, not this! Vasar was the most heavily defended planet in the entire Empire, even the whole Dark Fleet would not have been able to take Vasar without a long and bloody fight! Something in the project must have gone wrong, there was no other explanation. Someone in the back of the conference room stood up.
    "By hell, Vorg, call up the Dark Fleet!"
    Vorg dismissed the meeting and hurried back to his chambers. There, he relayed a general distress call throughout the Dark Fleet.
    "All ships to converge on the pentagon sector immediately! Entire sector has become hostile! Engage any and all forces you encounter!"
    The message rang throughout every warship in the Vasari Empire, and captains turned their ships around, heading for the nearest phase stabilizer, a Vasari masterpiece. These orbital structures created a pathway through phase space between two stabilizers, greatly cutting down the time it would take to travel throughout the Empie. Instead of the years it would have taken for divisions on the Empire's perimeter to travel to the Empire's core, now it would take only days. Vorg received a notification on his screen. Although unhappy about it, the current Fleet Admiral, Veerr, would lead the Dark Fleet to the pentagon sector. Vorg leaned back in his chair, thinking hard. The Dark Fleet would be overwhelmed, there was no doubt about it. Whatever happened to the project in the pentagon sector, it would destroy the Dark Fleet in minutes, if it had taken Vasar. There was only one option, flee to the most remote planet in the Empire. Hide. Maybe this unknown enemy would be satisfied with the Dark Fleet and leave him alone. But there was no time to waste. Quickly, Vorg contacted the nearest Kortul Devastator starship, redirecting it to the Internal Affair's headquarters. There was no time to think, only to act, to run, to hide. To survive.

Keep up the good work!!!! Love to read lore/fan fiction.

there are a lot (about 5-7) in the fan submission sections, actually.

Story Time!! Story Time!!! YEAH!!!!!!!!!!

to tell you the truth, I haven't been able to figure out how to get to there from the home screen yet, but I have when there is a recent post in one of its topics.  its odd.

Chapter 1, part 2
Evacuation

The Vasari Empire

Vasari frontier - 10,000 years ago, 13th month of Krashnak

    Vorg looked up from his window. Birds swirled across the deep green sky of the planet Okarion, the farthest and newest addition to the Vasari Empire. If there was even an empire anymore. It had been almost a year since the disaster of the inner home worlds, and no reports had ever come in from the Dark Fleet throughout Vorg's entire trip to Okarion. The rest of the ship's crew lay scattered about in homes similar to his. He had ordered them here, knowing they'd just be decimated if they tried to reconnect with the Dark Fleet. Now on Okarion, Vorg had no equipment with which to contact the Dark Fleet, or anyone for that matter. The inhabitants of Okarion were a simple, primitive race. To say they were new to space travel was the understatement of the century. They lived in huts made from the trees of their land, and ate food with stone utensils. When they were not using their hands. To avoid increased attention, Vorg had had to model his home to the peaceful Okarions', living their lifestyle. The most advanced piece of technology the Okarions possessed was a knife. So no communication devices, the Kortul hidden in a dormant volcano that overlooked the village, and Vorg was ready for his new life. The crew of the Kortul grumbled, but what say did they have against the Fleet Admiral Commander? Even a formal Fleet Commander? So they took up the Okarions' lifestyle as well. What else could they do?
    A commotion outside his window caught Vorg's attention. At least these beasts had windows. There was a crowd amassing in the village square, some of them pointing at the sky. Vorg looked up, and saw the telltale sign of a heavily damaged warship. Great streams of smoke billowed out from a dark, ragged husk. Vorg saw this even though it was a long way off in the sky. Heavy damage if he could see it so far away. Vorg hurried outside, catching a crew member of the Kortul and giving him a message for his captain. Launch and intercept.
    The 9,000 crew members of the Devastator streamed out towards the jungle, the volcano towering out of the vegetation. Vorg stayed with the villagers, watching silently as the ship drew closer, and ignoring their worried mutterings. Over the ship as well as the sudden evacuation of 9,000 of their tribe. Vorg sneered.Tribe! The ship, however, seemed like it would touch ground near the village, although it was too far to tell for sure. Turning, Vorg looked for signs of the Kortul. The volcano wasn't that far off, they should be here any moment... If this was a sign of the mysterious enemy that had destroyed the Empire, he needed firepower. Slowly the burning ship drew nearer. Vorg's eagle eye spotted the distinct shape of a Jarrasul class Evacuator. An idea sparked behind Vorg's eyes. If the ship survived landing and if he could get it repaired...
    A rumble echoed across the sky and the Kortul zoomed across the jungle, heading towards the burning Evacuator. Vorg saw a flash from the Kortul as it temporarily jammed any weapons the Evacuator might have on it, as well as amplifying its own power in a surge. The Evacuator didn't respond, just kept slowly drifting on its course to the ground. The Kortul helped its movement by bumping it slightly so it would land just outside of the village.
    When the burning Jarrasul touched down on the lush vegetation of the jungle fringe--crashed, more like--Vorg motioned to the villagers to follow him. It would be some time before the Kortul landed and the full 9,000 were ready to follow him, and he needed to solve this mystery now. Grabbing a farm implement from one of the villagers, he smashed in part of the charred hull and forced his way inside the ship. The blackened halls were silent, no machinery hummed in the background, no footsteps echoed from a distant room, not even the murmur of far off voices pierced this heavy silence.
    It was disturbing.
    Covering his face with an arm to protect himself from the smoke, Vorg pushed his way past twisted metal and rubble-strewn passages until he made his way to the command center. Pausing outside the great double doors, now blackened and charred, Vorg listened intently. There were noises coming from the command center. Sobbing noises, and muffled shrieks. Vorg overrode the open command on the doors to no avail, so he was forced to use the farm implement to bash his way in. The half-melted doors needed only a little force. Inside he finally found the crew of the Jarrasul. Or what was left of it. Maybe 400 Vasari lined the room, all sobbing hysterically, some yelling out every once in a while in high-pitched, frightened yelps. None of them recognized Vorg or the villagers. They just stood against the wall, crying and screaming. What had happened to the 15,000 Vasari on this ship, that only 400 survived? He motioned for one of the villagers to come forward.
    "Take other men. Search rooms. Find other sobbing men, bring here."
    The villager nodded, then turned to the other villagers and shouted out commands in their own little dialect. Vorg spat on the ground, trying to rid himself of the taste of speaking so primitively. He was not born for this.
    While the villagers dispersed throughout the ship, Vorg left the Jarrasul and met the captain of the Kortul as he exited his own ship, which was resting on the village green. Vorg motioned for him to bring his crew, then turned and walked quickly back to the Jarrasul.
    "Look at this ship. Could it be repaired?"
    The captain studied the burnt-out hull, sometimes stepping into holes larger than himself. Coming back to Vorg, he shook his head.
    "If we had but one construction ship, we might have been able to build a repair platform, but without one...no, Admiral Commander. It is impossible."
    Vorg ground his teeth. Without a ship able to colonize planets, all hope for the Vasari vanished! The strange enemy that had surfaced in the center of the Empire would engulf them. They had to have this ship!
    "What about the Kortul, captain. Could we take parts from it to make the Evacuator work?"
    The captain hissed quietly. He would not willingly destroy his ship for another. He hesitated another moment, but then responded.
    "It might, Admiral Commander, it might."
    "Then get right on it, we have no time to waste."
    "Yes...Admiral Commander."
    "As soon as you get the command center online, let me know. I must teach these savages the way of the starship, if we are ever to have a crew large enough to launch."
    With that, Vorg left the captain of the soon-to-be-deconstructed Kortul by the Jarrasul, not pausing to notice the streak of anger flash across the captain's face. With obvious effort, the captain regained control of himself. Stopping only to spit in Vorg's direction, he turned and gave orders to his crew, all the while thinking hard. Fleet Commander or no Fleet Commander, he was the only one who could rebuild the Jarrasul, not that idiotic Internal Affairs officer! Without him, Vorg would never get this wreck of a ship space-worthy. The captain let a slow smile creep across his face, and all who saw it shivered. Before this was over, the Admiral Commander and he would have a reckoning. A long, painful reckoning. And he would be Admiral Commander.

Thanks, man. 

Chapter 1, part 3
Gone...All Gone

The Vasari Empire

Vasari frontier - 10,000 years ago, 15th month of Krashnak

   Finally, it was done. It had been a hard two months, but the Jarrasul Evacuator stood ready and hopefully space-worthy, looming over the village huts. An amazing change had come over those villagers as well. Under strict training from the Admiral Captain--of what, one patchwork ship?--the villagers had gone from simple calph herders to a semi-trained space crew of the Evacuator. At least, they could activate the more important of the Jarrasul's abilities, check and repair the machinery in the four engine rooms and the confined antimatter chamber, and manage their assigned battle stations. If for not long periods of time. The former Kortul crew would be the ones actually in the command center with himself and the Admiral Commander, but with the help of the villagers, they almost made the 15,000 Vasari needed to run the ship.
    In spite of it all, the captain grimaced. The Admiral Commander's plans were going on perfectly, but his plans? Nowhere! There had been a hundred chances for one of his crew members to "accidentally" bump the Admiral Commander while they were in the antimatter chamber, but the Commander had the villagers trained, and he did not need the Kortul's crew in the chamber anymore! Many times his crew could have "tripped" while carrying something heavy from the Kortul to be put on the Evacuator, but, of course, the Admiral put him in charge of deconstruction! As if it weren't hard enough to know his own ship, which he had served on faithfully for over thirty years, was being deconstructed, but he had to watch the entire process happen! Every single day! Every little scrap that came off the Kortul was like peeling a layer of his skin off. The captain worked himself even madder in his rage. It was a landslide, one little pebble out of place and everything would come crashing down. Now today was the test flight of the Jarrasul and none of his deadly accidents had befallen the Admiral Commander! Time was up. The job was up to him now, and him alone.
    Snarling to himself, the captain picked up his short automatic pistol and headed towards Vorg's hut, which was now just called the Base. Vorg had shut himself up inside there the day the command center had come online, just after he had doodled around with the controls and a map of the Empire. The Admiral Commander had gone completely white and stumbled backward, shutting off and locking the screen before the captain could see what was on it. Then he had left the ship at a run, and hadn't left his hut since. He had locked himself in the Base, and it was days before he let anyone enter after him. The captain heard from the crew members that in those days shut with himself, the Admiral Commander had not spoken a word to anyone, he had just sat there on his bed, mumbling. The crew members only got words and pieces, but the captain had pieced most of it together.
    Vorg had been muttering, "Gone... all gone. It's eating its way out of the core, and it will overwhelm us. There is no hope. The Empire is gone... all gone..." and so it went. It was in those days the Admiral Commander had hidden himself away that the captain had had his best idea. Once the ship was ready for liftoff, the Admiral Commander would lock himself in the command center with the captain and his crew...and that would be when he would strike! The reminder of that moment soon to come cooled the captain's rising anger. He stopped his course towards the Base, and instead turned past it towards the immense Jarrasul.
    It towered over the village, and most of the jungle, this new ship of his. In spite of the destruction of his beloved Kortul, the captain couldn't help a small smile flit across his face as he gazed upon his new child-to-be, as it were. The Jarrasul was the largest of the Vasari spacecraft, the size of a small city, with 7,500 rooms outfitted as sleeping quarters fit for two crewmen and their gear, let alone the massive engine rooms and the complex antimatter chamber in the center of the ship. And the thirty kitchens. Plus the immense underbelly of the ship that stored colony pods for the colonization of new planets.
    The captain heard a shrill whistle noise behind him, the door to the Base flung open, and a crowd of villagers in new jump suits--hell only knew where Vorg had found them--flowed from the door as the Admiral Commander came out behind them. He strode up to the captain, saying only, "It is time?"
    "Yes, Admiral Commander," responded the captain, bowing slightly and touching fingertips to forehead. Even with his insane desire for revenge against this man, thousands of years of tradition spoke louder, and he would not show disrespect to the Fleet Admiral Commander's face, at least, not as long as he was the Admiral Commander. They boarded the ship, walked along the now brightly lit corridors, and entered the command center. A wall of lights flew up to blind them, or so it appeared. Two walls of the command center lay covered in small dials and screens, all giving off different information about the ship, other ships in their unit, if they had any, and many other different readings both from inside the ship and outside in space. Space storm technicalities, temperatures of surrounding space, and phase out times and the such. A thousand and more little things the villagers could never hope to learn in years, let alone in a few months. The Admiral Commander strapped himself down at his desk, in the direct center of the room. The captain took his place at the front of the room, strapping himself down as his crew members strapped themselves in to their assigned positions around the room. The captain nodded at one of them, who tapped a couple of keys and a number sequence appeared on the front screen.
    :60
    The Admiral Commander leaned back with a satisfied sigh as the countdown began its course, the mechanical voice reverberating around the ship as speakers tuned in.
    :55
    "And you are certain the ship will sustain itself?" The Admiral Commander asked.
    "I sure as I can be, Admiral Commander," the captain responded, not answering  Vorg's unspoken question. Will the ship stay intact or will the vacuum of space implode the ship like so much tin foil?
    :45
    The captain leaned forward and tapped the intercom button on his desk. "Engine 1, this is command. What is your status?"
    "This is Engine 1, we have you command. We are primed and operational."
    The captain repeated this for the other three engine rooms and the antimatter chamber. There he got an interesting response.
    "This is Antimatter, we...have you command. Um...we're not sure what we have here, sirs. Our antimatter stores are not replenishing themselves, its actually disappearing."
    The captain perked up at that. So did the rest of the room. They needed antimatter to conduct phase jumps, let alone the fact that the disappearing antimatter might decide to reappear outside of the protective chamber. The explosion would be equivalent to ten thousand atom bombs. This was indeed a problem.
    The captain leaned forward again. "What is the current status of our antimatter stores?"
    "Command, we have an antimatter count of 56, and it is dropping fast. 49 now, sir. This is not good, sir."
    The Admiral Commander had been thinking hard while this exchange had been going on, and now he leaned forward and spoke into his own intercom.
    "Antimatter, do you see a set of purple controls?"
    'We do, Admiral Commander."
    The captain grunted. No general "no, command" or "sir" for Vorg.
    "There is one control that says restock and recharge. Is it switched on?"
    There was a long pause at the end of the line.
    :10
    "No, Admiral Commander, it is not on."
    "Then turn it on and attend to your damn post!"
    Vorg wasn't smiling any longer. Taking his hand from the intercom button, he shook his head.
    "Damn villagers, I thought I taught them better. Not turning the antimatter recharger on!"
    :03
    "This is command, broadcasting. Strap yourselves in folks, its gonna be a bumpy ride."
    With that last message the captain leaned back in his chair and concentrated on the tools and gadgets about him.
    "Slaver, what's the word on the antimatter situation?" He called to a man far down his left.
    The ship started shaking as the engines opened up and loose earth tumbled and bumped along the exterior of the Jarrasul.
    :00
    The junior officer pressed a few keys. "Antimatter numbers rising, captain! All systems green!"
    Good. It seemed the Admiral Commander's special brand of calph herders weren't so special after all.
    The Jarrasul's engines fired up and began pounding the ground with a deafening roar. The captain noticed the Evacuator's shield numbers drop a little. At least it had been his idea to put up the ship's shields immediately. Loose rocks and small boulders dislodged by the liftoff were sure to have done damage to their hull.
    And then the Evacuator was rising, and the crewmen were cheering, all around the ship the speakers picked up their jubilant cries and fed them back to the command center. The captain could hear it coming from down the halls. The deep blackness of space enclosed the ship as it rocketed through the outer atmosphere, breaking free from the planet's gravitational pull and zooming out to the outer edge of Okarion's gravity well. There, gravity wouldn't effect them as they made their way into phase space. Just a small tug of gravity could rip the ship in two if they tried navigating phase space inside a gravity well. That was worse than foolish. That was suicidal. The ship paused briefly as it aligned with the coordinates given to them by the Admiral Commander, and then all systems powered down. The hum of the antimatter chamber could be heard easily from any corner of the ship, and the captain crossed his fingers underneath his desk. The ship's crew as one breathed a huge sigh of relief as the bright blue swirl appeared before the ship. The antimatter hummed louder as it ripped a hole through normal space. There was a shudder, then colors suddenly streamed past the ship as distant stars disappeared, and all about them was blue.
    In spite of it all, the captain smiled at the astounding beauty. Phase space would never cease to astonish and amaze. He supposed the Admiral Commander could live just one more day.

this length is actually pretty good.

yeah I like the shorter format. It means you can update more lol.

Good stuff so far

Chapter 2, part 1
The Exodus Fleet

The Vasari

Phase space - 10,000 years ago, 15th month of Krashnak

    "All right Vasari, listen up."
    Vorg's voice boomed out of every speaker on the ship. Heads turned as the voice went on.
    "I know that for the former crew of the Kortul, things were not...ideal...this past year. And for our new crew members, uprooting your lives and chasing after the stars might not have been on your agenda. So right now I will explain my reason for the flight to Okarion and now our flight to Baski, our neighboring star."
    The captain hadn't looked up. Of course they were going to the next solar system, after phasing out at Rax, the star connected to Okarion by the phase lanes. The extra time to open the phase hole, let alone the purplish color of the hole itself, left no doubt of any other possible destination. The only troubling thing was, Baski lay in an unconquered sector, far past the frontier lines. Why was the Admiral Commander taking them to a system that contained no Vasari planets?
    "As I explain, I want to stress that I will allow absolutely no hysteria aboard my ship, is that clear? I want no trouble, and believe me, this news is extremely...horrendous."
    The captain snorted under his breath. The Admiral Commander had not been born for public speaking. This should be amusing.
    "For my crew in the command center with me, I would direct your attention to the map I am bringing up on the main screen. All crew stationed otherwise, please listen closely."
    The screen came online, displaying many of the planets along the inner core of the Empire. The captain caught his breath, staring disbelievingly at the map. No, this wasn't happening, this cannot be!
    "What I am displaying here is a map of our inner sectors. As you can see, most have stopped broadcasting, meaning we have lost those planets."
    The captain hissed disbelievingly as the map zoomed to the inner home worlds. The Vasari home world, their precious Vasar, was as silent as the rest! This couldn't be true!
    "The infection started here, in the heart of our Empire. First one fell silent, then another, then they all were gone. Now as I zoom out, you can clearly see that our Empire is no more. Not one planet deeper than the frontier lines sends out a signal."
    Vorg spoke in a flat voice, a dead voice, a voice resigned to the inevitable.
    A cry went up around the command center as, even as they watched, two frontier planets flickered and darkened.
    "My friends!" And now Vorg was shouting. "My friends, we have a decision to make! Do we wait for this unknown catastrophe to reach us? Do we sit idly by while we become no more? NO! We are the last of the Vasari! The hope of the Empire-that-is-no-more! I say we run! We live! I say we keep running throughout the galaxies, conquering a planet here or there, replenishing our supplies, building up a fleet, and then we leave the planet, never to return! And we do so with each planet we find! We must never let this enemy destroy all that if left of the ancient Vasari race! As of this moment, all of you belong to the ancient blood of the Vasari elders, as we are the eldest of the Vasari! We are the only Vasari! And we will bring back the Vasari Empire!"
    Cheers echoed back from out of the speakers. The Vasari were quickly getting over their shock. They had no time to mourn; they were the start of a new era in Vasari history. The Exodus Fleet had work to do.
    The captain had just stood there in shock as Vorg had outlined the fall of the Empire, and the start of the Exodus flight. Now, as the Admiral Commander's speech died down, he blinked, still not comprehending. The Empire...finished? How could...and he was planning to kill the one man who knew of this? What if one of his assassinations had succeeded? What if there had been no Exodus flight? If they had stayed at Okarion, or tried to reconnect with the Dark Fleet? The unknown enemy would have wiped out the last fragile threads of the Vasari bloodline. No, the captain mentally shook his head, no, he had almost made a horrible mistake. A terrible, horrible, horrible mistake. Letting his anger gain control of him, when he had never realized that they really needed this man, this Admiral Commander. Without his knowledge of the different warships the Vasari had no chance of rebuilding their lost empire. It was time for the captain to pay proper respect to his superior officer. Vorg was, after all, all that the Vasari had left.
    Vorg looked up as the captain came awkwardly forward, looking extremely troubled. He opened his mouth to speak, but Vorg cut him off.
    "Enough, Captain. You were blinded, but now you see the light. We must all stick together in this time of hardship."
    The captain nodded, staring at the floor, unable to reach the Admiral Commander's eyes. The he turned and went back to his desk. Vorg smiled to himself as the ship rumbled and the lights streaming past the ship ended, and the bright red glare of Baski shone through the command center's tinted viewpoints. The Vasari Empire may have ended, but by hell, the Exodus Fleet would bring it back!

hey is anyone reading this or am i pretty alone out here?

if ur reading leave a comment cause im getting a little discouraged from posting more...

Chapter 2, part 2
Colonizable Planet Discovered

The Trader Emergency Coalition

Introduction
(from the Sins of a Solar Empire manual)

    The history of the TEC began more than 1,000 years ago during the foundation of the Trade Order by economically driven settlers. Established on strict principles of economics and codes of behavior, the Trader Worlds quickly began to expand - making the Trade Order an industrial and commercial juggernaut. However, outside of the Trader's core principles, each member world maintained its own interests, form of government, economic systems and culture. It was during this early period of the Trade Order that something unique took place which would later reshape the galaxy. During a routine expedition to recruit new trading partners, emissaries from the Order landed on a dry, desert world orbiting a red giant. Here they discovered a colony of people practicing the most heinous forms of scientific and social deviancy, breaking the covenants of the Trade Order. When the emissaries returned, their news sent shock waves throughout the Trader worlds and the response was swift - exile. For the first time in history the Trade Order forced their will upon a sovereign world, banding together and forcibly removing their twisted cousins from Trader space forever...and forgotten.
    Over the next thousand years the Trade Order went on in relative peace and prosperity - a golden age of mankind. War became a thing read about only in history books and seen in holo-vids. The occasional rare dispute was settled in Trader-sanctioned courts and merchant fleets filled the phase lanes with goods.
    The Trade Order's golden age came to an abrupt end a decade later with the arrival of the Vasari Empire. With no defenses, the Vasari swept the Order's ships aside with ease, and within only a few short months defeat seemed like a real possibility. In a last ditch effort to turn the tide, the Trade Order sanctioned the creation of the Trader Emergency Coalition to combat the alien threat. The TEC quickly learned to marshal the vast industrial resources of the Trader worlds towards military production and used their new war engine to keep the Vasari at bay. Unfortunately for the TEC, an ancient enemy has just returned to open a two-front war against them.

1,000 years ago, outside Trader-controlled space

    Lieutenant Harrison leaned back in his chair, smoking one of his favorite cigars. The air sanitizer by his desk immediately caught the smoke and cycled it through its filter, eradicating any smell that might irritate the other officers on the bridge of his Protev colony frigate, bound for Lusitania, the "jewel of the eastern rim," as the colonists called it. And not many disagreed. The new frontier planets in the outer rim were too new to be anything near a jewel, and the other eastern planets in the inner sector just didn't compare. The problem was, Lusitania was not yet part of the new Trade Order, and the Order was eager to grab this "jewel." And rightly so. More than half of the eastern sector's inner rim trade went through Lusitania. And so it was up to Harrison and his team of diplomats to convert the leaders of the planet to the Order. Harrison smiled to himself as he let out another puff of his cigar. History would remember his name as the man who connected the east to the west.
    The only problem, thought Harrison to himself, crossing and then uncrossing his legs which were propped up on his desk, was that the star-blighted trip was so starstruck long! Trader scientists had not yet found a way through phase space from one point of space directly to another, so for now all interplanetary travel depended on the phase lanes. Oh, they were useful, right enough. Trips that once took eighty years now only took several months or a year at most, but still, it was an entire year. Harrison had been on this tub for roughly six months now, and he was raring to be off. Perhaps fate answered his prayer. Perhaps fate doomed his life.
    The little Protev shuttered as it left phase space and the gravitational pull of the planet's gravity well took hold of it. Harrison, muttering crossly, put out his cigar and turned his attention to the rest of the bridge.
    "Are the engines online?" He called out to no one in particular.
    "All three just came in green, sir," a warrant officer answered back. "We have 98% engine power."
    "Well what a surprise, it raised a percentage since the last planet. Take it over to the other edge of the well and initiate phase travel."
    "Yes sir," the warrant officer replied, smiling in sympathy for his superior officer.
    That done, Harrison was just about to light another cigar when the warrant officer spoke again.
    "Just a minute sir..."
    "What is it?" Harrison demanded crossly.
    "Sir...is the Order aware that this planet is colonized?"
    Harrison shuffled some e-documents around before finding the one about this planet.
    "Planet X-4, uninhabited and uncolonized. Scheduled colonization in 4 years." Harrison looked up. "Are you telling me this planet is colonized?"
    The warrant officer nodded. "Yes sir, preliminary scans are showing massive amounts of electrical energy in several key areas on the planet. Should I do a full scan?"
    "Immediately!" cried Harrison, his heart thumping. What a pleasant extra bonus! Besides being named as the man who brought Lusitania into the modern world, he would also be known for having discovered a previously unheard of civilization!
    "Put the Protev in geosynchronous orbit around planet X-4 until we have a more detailed report," Harrison ordered.
    No one replied, but Harrison could feel the ship turning as the planet's surface came into view. Harrison gasped in spite of himself. Displayed across the planet's surface were various large metallic blobs. From this height, these were massive cities the size of countries. Whoever built these cities were years ahead of the Trade Order. Harrison felt excitement creeping up his neck. What had he found here?
    Then Harrison's brain exploded.
    At least, that's what it felt like. A mind numbing shockwave of sound burst inside Harrison's head, and he fell to the ground screaming. If he was paying attention to anyone at all, he would have noticed the rest of the bridge had followed suit. The Protev lurched as its engineers clutched their pounding heads, pleading with the stars that they take them quickly and end the pain. Then as quickly as it had come, the pain stopped. Harrison gasped on the ground. Around him, the rest of the bridge crew imitated him. Throughout the rest of the ship men and women collected themselves, murmuring quietly. Did you feel it too? What just happened? What was that?
    For the officers in the bridge, however, they had not long to think. Suddenly an officer in the back of the bridge shouted out, "Hey, Lieutenant! Someone's trying to gain access to our radio transmission!"
    The bridge crowded around the communications officer, hardly even parting when Harrison demanded them to move. Pushing and shoving his way through the crowd, Harrison made his way to the communications officer. The officer turned to Harrison, the mike in his hand. Next to the speaker, a yellow light was blinking steadily. Harrison looked at the planet they were orbiting, thinking of the mind attack his ship had just suffered from. It could obviously be nothing else, not if the entire ship had collapsed at the exact same moment. Hesitantly, Harrison pushed the transmit button. Static buzzed through the speaker. Harrison looked questioningly at the communications officer, but he shrugged his shoulders. As was the Trader custom, none of them would talk until the caller had first spoken. Suddenly from in between the static Harrison thought he heard a voice. He looked over at the communications officer, but the man was already on it. He fiddled with several buttons until the static receded and Harrison could hear the voice more clearly.
    "Hababwieifkiekeefmaeufn gagkjamgnag...." It was utter garbage.
    Harrison looked helplessly at the men around him. How were they supposed to communicate when he couldn't even understand their language! Had they been lost by humankind for so long that they developed their own language? Had he in fact discovered not a lost branch of humans, but alien life forms? The thought made Harrison almost drop the speaker. In all the thousands of years of space travel, never had the Traders come across an alien species. The voice dropped off to a muted whisper, but then grew louder again, and in amazement Harrison realized he could understand the words.
    "This is Portugal Lee Gibbings calling to unidentified spacecraft orbiting our planet. Please explain your presence. This is Portugal Lee Gibbings calling to unidentified spacecraft orbiting our planet. Please explain your presence---"
    Harrison hit the talk button.
    "Hello, hello!" He shouted into the receiver.
    The voice on the other end stopped.
    "This is Lieutenant Harrison, Junior Grade," Harrison continued, "I am captain of this Protev colony frigate. Who am I speaking to?"
    "I am Portugal Lee Gibbings, Harrison," the voice responded immediately, "what are you doing with a colony frigate around our planet?"
    "Why, we didn't know this planet was inhabited at all! In fact, we were on our way to another planet entirely! We picked you up on our scanners by accident."
    The voice was silent for a while.
    "Very well," it responded eventually, "Lieutenant Harrison, you have permission to land on our planet if you desire it, or you have free travel to the edge of the gravity well. Either way, two small ships will be escorting you. They should be arriving now."
    True to its word, two moving objects blinked onto the motion scanner.
    Harrison barely took time to think. "Yes, we'd like to land for a bit, if you don't mind."
    "Not at all, Lieutenant Harrison, please follow the blue spacecraft."
    Harrison waved frantically at the four pilots, who ran to their seats and revved the Protev's engines. The other officers on the bridge trickled to their seats now that the conversation was over.
    Harrison watched as the Protev was guided down onto an enclosed landing platform on the edge of the city. The blue ships on either side of the Protev erected a shield so that the Protev could enter the planet's gravity. It would not have survived the landing otherwise; its transport shuttles were the ones that actually flew down to the planet when a Protev colonized it. Harrison tried to get a glimpse of the city while the Protev landed, but they went down too fast and Harrison couldn't make anything out. The Protev was settled on a thick metal platform in the desert ground, which suddenly began descending, carrying the Protev with it.
    We're going underground, though Harrison in a daze.
    At last the platform stopped with a sudden jerk, and the blue ships dropped their shield and flew up the long tunnel that now lay above the Protev. Harrison radioed the marines stationed near the rear of the ship, and with an honor guard of marines he stepped off the Protev onto the metallic floor of the underground structure made by the unknown inhabitants of planet X-4.
    "Welcome," said a voice Harrison recognized.
    Harrison looked up to see a tall human-looking figure walking towards him, arm extended. It was the voice from the ship, it was Portugal Lee Gibbings.
    Portugal looked like a normal human male, albeit a tall one, but there were still several things off about him. For one, his skin was dry and flaky, and many lines were etched across the old face, yet from Portugal's voice Harrison would have guessed that the man was in his late thirties. And he glided across the room as if his feet hovered slightly off the ground. Which made Harrison quickly check to make sure they weren't. No, Portugal was simply very agile on his feet.
    Harrison was unsettled, but then again, he was trained as a diplomat before becoming captain of a Protev frigate. He shook hands with the man, smiling.
    "What may I call your people?" Harrison asked. Always the first words out of a diplomat's mouth. It was traditional.
    Portugal smiled. "You may call us the Family. I believe in your language that means a group of several beings related to each other by birth?"
    Harrison nodded.
    "Well then, family is what you may call us. Welcome to the Family, Lieutenant Harrison."