Admiral Zophram Eraldson of the thirty third fleet of the Illateri Sovereignty sat in his chair housed within one of the large decks of the I.S.V Citadel, one of the oldest fortress class battleships in the entire Sovereignty fleet. It has since been upgraded, with items such as an enhanced spinal lance, a few engine efficiency improvements and an engine array overhaul, however not much has changed from the original design. This battleship was situated inside one of the large slipstreams that had come to define slipstream space, surrounded by, you guessed it, the thirty third fleet.
There was a scheduled rendevous with the twentieth fleet, headed by Admiral Ernst, with his fleet based at Karos Fleetyards, at twenty seven hundred thirty hours, or approximately 13:30 PM at night time, considering that the Illater standard day was twenty eight hours long, was almost at midnight. Normally, nobody would stay awake for such a long period of time, not even the Archons... Yet, the situation was different.
Nobody got any sleep.
For a good reason - Eight days before, the Bloodcult had seemingly gone mad or insane and they declared war against everyone in the universe. If this were any other faction in this performance in scales of galaxies, nobody would pay attention, except, this wasn't any faction at all, no, this was the bloodcult, the strongest entity in the entire galaxy of G-S16. Nothing could match it at all in the current political climate. If the Bureau of Research and Defense was here, it would be childs play, yet it wasn't... and reality editing was banished. It was too much of a great power, and this mistake had come to bite them in the ass, however there was a good likelihood that the cult had reality enforcers... it would probably be useless in the coming war.
Twenty seven hundred twenty nine hours. Fifteen seconds to set rendevous time. Admiral Eraldson looked at the sensors again, and again, and again... Ten seconds to rendevous. At the edge of the spherical holo-screen, a few blips appeared on detectors and rangefinders. Then, another, and another. Soon after, a few battleships, many cruisers, frigates and corvettes appeared on screen, and after ten more seconds, they flew alongside the thirty third fleet in standard formation with the command ships at the center surrounded by a nigh-impenetrable defensive screen. The Admiral smiled as he saw the fleet come up alongside him, and his smile grew wider as the communications officer yelled out, "Sir! The 'Dying Light' Is hailing us!" Ernst's flagship. The Dying Light is one of the later constructs classified Fortress, superior to the Citadel but not by much, Sovereignty improvements in design being what they are.
The High-ranker then walked back to the front of the holotable of the Combat Information Center that replaced the bridge in most modern ships, and then he stood up straight with his arms at his sides, before the crackling static vanished, replaced by the figure of an aging man, not middle-aged but rather old, seemingly in his eighties... however he seems very fit for his age, as to be expected from a fleet person. Ernst's long and distinguished service marked his rise to the rank of Admiral, and he's very experienced in combat... however this will be a different case, as Ernst has never been to G-S16 personally.
"Admiral Eraldson. It's a pleasure to meet you."
"Greetings, Ernst. I'm afraid we will have to skip the pleasantries. We're exiting slipstream here,"
His hand maneuvered around to a point in the galactic map, zooming in from all the nebulae and stars to a specific set of co-ordinates in space, near the wall of fog allegedly put up by the cult in space through unknown means, and it was highlighted by four pointy triangles and four smaller pointy wedges angled at 45 degrees, all aiming towards the center point, highlighting the point they're coming out of slipstream,
"Now, we have heard that allies are in the area, namely the Remna, however we don't know what to expect so we should keep our guard up at all times."
"Noted. All weapons are online and the shields are charging. See you on the other side."
The rather short conversation came to an end in seconds. The comms officer announced to the entire fleet that they were exiting Slipstream in ten seconds time. The raging tides of slipstream space didn't look as bright as one thought, however, as it seemed to calm down, and the bright flares of the drive arrays of the two fleets were visible to any slipstream traveller, and a bright light in front of them appeared. Five... four... three... two... one... the purple, blue and the energetic flares of magenta and pink stopped for a second as time and space was warped to make it go... slower... then, all of a sudden, it stopped, the insanity of this dimensionspace faded away as abruptly as it started, and all of it was replaced by realspace, stars, and the fog of the blood cult extending out for thousands of light years.
Zophram looked at the holomap as it adjusted resolution, seeing as the sensors now had a real-time view of the area. The fog was clearly visible as a wall of darkness in the holomap. Nothing was known about it yet, but that was about to change, as Zophram ordered the officers around him to get a full scanner sweep of the area. While the drive units flared to life as the fleet moved forward, the scanner suite of the Citadel was pointed at the barrier of fog in front of the fleets, and not just thermals, it was also trans-spectrals, radar, standard galactic scanners, a great amount of power diverted to the sensors was used as it scanned the fog and the surrounding area, while the fleet of Ernst moved closer to the thirty third fleet.
[SOVEREIGNTY IFFS VISIBLE]