A Song of burning stars (a GoT/ASOIF sci-fi AU) World building and later story thread

[Illuviar]

This is an idea that wouldn't let me alone. It came to me while I was mussing on the next update of my on going ASOIF story. Before I get really going, I would need to do a lot of world building and I'm making this thread for discussion about the story, world building, bouncing ideas off whoever is interested, etc... While I have some ideas where I want the plot to go, a lot of the details would depend on the changes made by reimagining GoT in a sci-fi setting so that needs to be taken care off first.

I whipped up a short snipped from Rhaegar's POV as he musses over the galaxy wide fuck up he helped Aerys whip up. It's meant to set up the tone and give a glimpse of his personality. It's set the night before he arrives at the Trident. That said, I haven't made up my mind how the battle itself would go and who the victor would be. I'll be rewriting and fleshing this snipped and any others I write in the early stages as the world-building progresses.



Disclaimer: I don't own A Song of Ice and Fire or the Game of Throne books, TV series or games. They belong to their creators, publishers and/or copyright owners. This story is not written with profit in mind. I make no money from it. It is not for sale or rent.

A Song of burning stars


World building

The Bard Prince

=ASBS=​

Admiral's quarters
Targaryen's Pride
Flagship of Second Royal Fleet
En route to the Trident System

Rhaegar Targaryen, the Crowned Prince of the Kingdom of Westeros was sitting in the small yet lavishly furnished cabin set aside for a fleet's commander. His gaunt, exhausted face was a far cry from the looks that helped him win the tittle of a Bard Prince.

He was sitting in a comfortable armchair with a forgotten glass of wine in hand, while his gaze was staring into a holo-image of a Dragon. Not the mythical flying lizards that were the namesakes of the Targaryen's source of power, but the real thing – four an half kilometers long brick of armor and weapons that had no peer in known space, and that was saying something considering that most of the galaxy had been explored for thousands of years.

It was too bad that the last Dragon ship as his family and most common folk called them, was destroyed more than a century ago during the Dance. Even a single such behemoth in the control of the Crown could have averted the bloodbath gripping the Kingdom.

Rhaegar chuckled darkly. Who was he kidding? His father's madness would have found a way to sunder the realm and provoke a rebellion. The sides might have been different, but the outcome was inevitable. The prince shook his head sadly. He should have acted sooner to remove his father. He shouldn't have let his obsession with prophecy blind him for the consequences… Yet, Lyanna swore to him that she left multiple messages ensuring that her father and brother would know that she wasn't kidnapped.

He believed her. That and his infatuation with the wild young woman were enough to convince him that disappearing within the old and supposedly abandoned station called the Tower of Joy was a good idea.

Rhaegar sighed, cursing his stupidity again. Just two weeks out of contact beyond the electromagnetic cloud surrounding the Tower and the realm was thrown into a war. Aerys… The prince ground his teeth as images from his father's worst wildfire stunt flashed in front of his eyes.

Aerys burned a Lord Paramount alive while the whole realm watched. Arranged that the man's son would strangle himself on live TV, as a bonus too. It was a miracle that when Rhaegar came back from his seclusion the Targaryens had retained any support.

He closed his eyes and groaned. Meeting with Lords from Dorne, the Reach and his own sworn men from the Dragonstone sector had been painful. He had to make a lot of concession to retain their support. In victory the power of the crown was going to be curtailed.

In defeat… He and his family would be dead. It wasn't like he had any choice in the matter, even if his father's paranoia as of late actually wasn't baseless. The flurry of arranged marriages and engagements just before the Tourney at Harrendal was mighty suspicious. Varys and his agents had their ideas, just as Rhaegar and anyone not blind did.

However, it didn't matter if half the Kingdom has been building an alliance to potentially overthrow the Targaryens. Aerys and his insane stunt guaranteed a civil war and almost sealed the Dragon's fate then and there.

Rhaegar stood up, leaving his wine glass on the arm-rest. The fleet was going to be in position tomorrow. With a lot of luck, they might get there before the rebels arrived in force, however all scouts and probes reported the same – it was going to be mightily close – the matter of hours. The enemy was already in system and all would depend how long the garrisons could hold. It was going to be too close for comfort, especially given the Trident System's strategic importance and what the damn place was.

The prince dragged himself towards the bed, though he knew that without medical assistance he wasn't going to get a wink of sleep. The fucking Trident – one of thousands remnants of the First Men's scientific and engineering wonders littering the galaxy. Just like the mighty fortress system of Moat Calin, the Trident was a doorway – a double star system with jump-points located too damn close to planetary bodies for comfort. A massive asteroid belt covered most of the system, one littered with mines, defense platforms and battle stations protected by kilometers of rock, thick sheets of battlesteel, shield generators and as many weapons as huge generators buried deep under the asteroid fortresses could power.

To make matter's worse, the Trident was the only direct route in the heart of the River's sector in the region. A flanking maneuver would have mandated weeks of travel and dozens of jumps, which in this case was irrelevant. The system was divided, thanks to almost half its garrison remaining loyal when the rebellion started. The Royal fleet and it's Dornish reinforcements wouldn't need to make a jump-point assault against a planetoid worth of weapons and defenses if they got there in time.

They just needed to get there before the Rebels could seize or neutralize the loyalist standpoints, and then park their whole damn fleet on the jump-point. That was a big concern. After all, a powerful mobile fleet had a lot of advantages when assaulting a fixed position, even if it was a planet turned fortress. Considering that the enemy didn't need to fight a jump-point assault to enter the Trident, they had the numbers to take out the loyalists and deny the system to the Targaryens. Rhaegar would need to be at least as crazy as his father to order an assault on a point guarded by the bulk of the Rebel forces.

What was worse, with Aerys still alive on the Iron Throne in King's Landing, Rhaegar was the one pressed for time. As long as his father remained in power, the Targaryens would continue to lose support. With his children and wife as hostages, the prince was trapped just like the Dornish in supporting his father.

For the time being at least. There were plans in place to deal with the madman once the Rebels were taken care of.

That was the main reason why Rhaegar had gathered most of his available forces and marched them towards the Trident. It was a challenge for Robert Baratheon, one his cousin couldn't help but accept.

Rhaegar couldn't help but hope that this battle would be the last major engagement of the Rebellion. If he managed to take out Robert, that might be enough. At the very least such a success would buy him enough time to deal with his father and perhaps cut a deal with the Lannisters, who have been quiet so far. Too quiet.

The Prince fell into his bed, without bothering to remove his boots.


In the next post, I'll put some ideas about the world in which the story would unfold. Please give me feedback and suggestions.

 

[Illuviar]

General History:

A long, long time ago, the First Men - a Federation/Empire of Man or something like that achieved a golden age and colonized a sizable chunk of the galaxy. Then, during their blind pursuit of scientific progress, or so most people believe, tragedy struck that fucked up most of the known galaxy, made the Orion Arm - where mythical Terra, the cradle of humanity lies an unaccessible, deadly mess of supernovas, black holes and much nastier phenomena that make FTL from very dangerous and unreliable to impossible.

Valyria:

Just four centuries ago, the decadent Valyrian Freehold, the most advanced civilization in the known galaxy collapsed while they were attempting to rediscover the technologies of the ancients. Just a few of their admirals and fleets survived the collapse that literally destroyed a whole stellar cluster by making multiple stars go supernova. The popular belief is that the Valyrians found some doomsday weapon left by the First Men, fucked up when trying to study it or a faction used it in an internal struggle - something the Valyrians were infamous for. Needless to say, whatever happened, it blew up in their faces.

The Citadel and Maesters:

Nowadays, research in sensitive technologies in the Kingdom of Westeros goes under the umbrella of the Citadel and it's Maesters - they would be maintaining the FTL comm network that keeps the Wester Kingdom connected. The Citadel - a whole system dedicated to preserving and recovering ancient knowledge. The Maesters hoard First Men and other advanced technologies; They proceed very slowly and carefully with any innovations. That's been reinforced after the fuck up that was the Doom of Valyria. No one knows what exactly happened but it's suspected that the Valyrians discovered a First Men doomsday weapon, messed up with it and suddenly a whole stellar cluster went to hell after most stars there went supernova within just a few days.


Iron Islands: They're in a nebula where the systems with inhabited planets are mostly inhospitable and chock full with asteroids making it very, very hard to permanently deal with. Further, they would be rich on one of the main components that goes into battlesteel - the universal and very good starship armor, which everyone use. However, they lack sufficient sources of various trace minerals and metals that are crucial in building starships - those had been mined up and what's left is very hard to extract; not enough of it and what the Iron Islands can produce domestically is extremely costly - those are the principal saneish ideas behind the reaving and piracy that's a part of their culture.

Then there's their religion, which in the past was centered on rituals including "drowning" people by throwing them out of an airlock. There might be something ancient and nasty acting as the Drowning god. It might slumber for now... Those rituals had been few and far between ever since the Targaryen conquest three hundred years ago.

The Children of the Forest: I haven't made up my mind for the Children of yet. That said I'm leaning towards them being and ancient civilization content to live in their sector of space before the First Men arrived. They are close to nature, perhaps even some kind of plant life-form or at the very least living in symbiosis with plants. That can be either a weird quirk of evolution or a product of genetic engineering. That the Children of the Forest would be quite good at terraforming goes without saying.

The Others: I'm torn about the Others. One idea I have is that they appeared some time after the First Men civilization collapsed. The "north" would be the closest inhabited sector to the heart of the former FM civilization. They could be some kind of supersoldiers or military machines gone bad. Or I can go with outright aliens for them. We'll see.


The Wall: Series of fortified systems protecting the rest of the galaxy. They would be cutting off the only FTL path to a spiral arm which is inaccessible thanks to super-novas, black holes and stellar phenomena caused by First Men strategic weapons. It's possible the deep north so to speak to be the Orion Arm of the galaxy, where mythical Terra is supposed to be. Of course, that's in case I go with the Others being some kind of a rouge First Men weapon.


Knights: That would take some world building to say for certain. Power armor is a given, but I think that all mainstream infantry would be waring it. Duels - certainly for tourneys, because of honor, an old custom when judging Nobles if there's no clear cut evidence on their guild. I'm not sure if I'll go with melee combat being viable when artillery, air and orbital strikes or tanks and other vehicles aren't available to decide a battle. Perhaps in city fighting or on stations and spaceships, where the ranged weapons needed to cut through power armor would fuck up things that you would rather have intact and powered melee weapons could be useful.

Mechs could be actually viable, especially those ancient ones build with much more advanced technology than what the bulk of the armed forces have available. Such machines, though inferior to First Men relics still could be produced but in very small numbers. That could make them useful on a battlefield, decisive even at least in certain circumstances, yet still keep it plausible - tanks being much better at anything resembling technological parity.

The North: It's big, but a lot of the real estate has been wrecked and in many places the easy to get resources have been depleted. Then you have whole systems that had been strip-mined in the past. Now, with the technology available, the North probably won't be as weak compared to the rest of the regions of Westeros, though to compensate they would have different commitments that would limit what they could commit to a war unless they're invaded. A few ideas about that - strong naval task forces to watch for wildling incursions (because the Wall is weakened by centuries of neglect and not enough manpower), to patrol against slaver and pirate raids from Essos and the Iron Islands respectively, keeping watch on death worlds with nasty surprises that might go interstellar if left alone, etc...

 

[Illuviar]

Ship types:

Light ships and escorts:

Corvettes: The smallest ships used by the military. They serve as short range scouts, system patrol, S&R, customs inspections. Typical crew – between 6 and 12. They can carry a squad of infantry in addition to the crew needed to run the ship.
Crew roles – 1 pilot, 1 weapon's officer, 1 ship commander, 2 to 4 engineers; for extended deployment the crew usually doubles to ensure at lest two shits. At maximum capacity a typical corvette can carry up to 30 people for shor periods of time, usually during evacuations.

Weapons: One railgun or partricle beam with 90 to 120 degree firing arc, four to eight point defense guns – either rail or laser; two missile pods with varying payload;

Even in numbers, corvettes are only light to moderate threat to small groups of frigates or lone destroyers;

Typical size – 20 to 30 meters. Their primary defense is maneuravability,

Frigates: The lightest class of proper warships. They serve as escorts and are typically specialized for certain function, which often leaves them vulnerable to different threats. That includes point-defence, ECM, sensor platforms. Most navies experimented with missile, torpedo or even heavy weapon armed frigates, though those attempts were universal failures. Simply put, a frigate doesn't have the size to mount big enough power plant to use rail or energy weapons that can harm heavier warships. They're too small to mount defenses that can survive anything but very brief engagement with even destoyers and can be taken out by swarms of corvettes.

The idea of using frigates as missile or torpedo platforms had some merrit, but that immediately ran into the obvious problem – each frigate could carry no more than four long range capital missiles or a pair of torpedoes. Needless, to say missile frigates surviving to close the range with an enemy fleet is a very rare occurence.

On the other hand, frigates can mount multiple short range missile pods, making them very good as PD platforms when those are backed by the correct arms configuration,. A proper frigate screen could significantly raise a fleet survivability during a long to medium range missile duel.
Typicalk weapons: 6 to 10 missile pods, 10-16 dual PD turrets – either laser or railgun, A spinal mounted railgun or 2 turret based particle beams.

Typical size – 100-130 meters;

Destroyers: They're the considered by many the first real warships of any navy. Mission proffiles include scouting, escort duties, insertion of marine units on hostile worlds, depending on the configuration – hunting heavier ship classes.

Destroyers are the smallest ship class than can mount powerful enough shields to survive capital ship fire at long range. They have decent enough armor to not be destroyed by a single heavy weapon hit too, something that combined with their high maneuravability and acceleration makes them dangerous opponents when used properly.

This class of light escorts can be successful in various missions. Considering that destroyers could mount decent stealth systems, making it possible to avoid long range detection, they make excellent spy ships, especially when you take into account their endurance – a destroyer can opperate independently and out of supply for up to four months, which is four tims the time a frigate can survive on its own.

Destroyers oftem make the bulk of poorer system defense fleets, deliver enough manpower to search freighters in acceptable time-frame if acting in support of polica and customs.

The first big difference from the smaller ship classes is that a Destroyer does have teeth. Some mount spinal railguns that are powerful enough to threatedn even heavy cruisers at range, other are pure energy weapon platforms boasting multiple particle weapon turrets. Each destroyer has between 20 and 40 point defense clusters, making them deadly threat for any reasonable number of corvettes.

A Destroyers could actually be viable missile or torpedo platforms if configured for that role – they could carry multiple salvo of each weapon types and still posses a respectable ammount of DEWs or a spinal mounted railgun.

A destroyer can comfortable carry a marine platton with all their gear, often including light vehicles.

Typical length: 160-240 metters;

Light Cruisers: They're the biggest ships still classified as escorts. Usually navies employ limited number of them, because while useful they aren't particularly cost effective compared to other classes. Primarly roles – Destroyer packs leaders. Their function is to provice C&C as well as heavier punch for the ships they lead. Usually Light Cruisers employ better deffenses and armaments than destroyers at the price of cramped quarters, endurance, PD.

Typical length – 250-300 meters.

Weapons usually consist of multople particle beams. Lately a few navies, inspired by Braavos had been experimenting with mounting spinal lasers on refubrished light cruiser hulls. While the concept has some merit, given the more powerful power plants carried by the CL, such ships are still in the prototype phase an the concept hasn't been tested on a firing range, much less in combat.

Capital ships:

Heavy Cruisers: First proper capital ships. Typically they have three configurations – heavy weapons platforms, dedicated escort killers or assault ships meant to deploy an armored platoon or company of mechanized infantry into heavily contested zones.

CA, Lancer configuration: Two spinal railguns or a heavy spinal energy weapon. Multiple heavy particle beams or medium turret mounted railguns; dozens of PD clusters, up to two metters of battlesteel armor, heavy shields.

CA, Medusa configuaration: Spinal railguns, or lasers, and multiple missile or torpedo launchers;

CA, Hunter: Multiple medium and light energy weapon banks, missile pods;

CA, Charger: Medium particle beams in twin-linked turrets, short range missile pods with various payloads, extensive pd networs, heavier armor and shielding replacing up to half of a typical CA's firepower. Heavy protected hangar housing the ground force compliment. Depending on the situation, the Charger could execute either orbital drop or atmospheric insertion and more conventional troop deployment.

Size: 400-750 metters;

Battlecruisers: The main capital ships of most navies. They combine respectable acceleration, heavy armor – at least four metters of battlesteel, with secondary belts over critical sections. Advanced shields and redundand PD network make the battlecruisers a formidable foe in any situation.

They bring to the table unparalleled firepower compared to smaller ships.

Typical size – 800 – 1,6 km.

Weapons: spinal mounted railguns, spinal mounted energy projectors, multiple banks of heavhy railguns and particle beams, multiple pods of short and medium range missiles backing up an impressive array of long range capital missiles and torpedoes.

Multiple banks of lighter, secondray weapons to deal with smaller ships that survived long enough to close the range or help deal with other capitals at point blanck range.

In addition a battlecruiser would typically carry either an armored battalion with it's integrated infantry and anti-air elements, two mechanized infantry battalions or an infantry regiment depending on the situation. However, usually most BC carry mixed troop compliment to give them more flexibility.

Battleships: These gargantuan ships range from 1.8 km all up to 3 km for the few surviving ancient behemoths that are the pride of various navies. The typical BB size range from 2.2 to 2.5 km with smaller, fast battleships or various specialized larger designs being the outliners.

The typical BB features unparalleled defenses. Six to in cases even ten meters of battlesteel armor, dual shields...

 

[Illuviar]

Disclaimer: I don't own A Song of Ice and Fire or the Game of Throne books, TV series or games. They belong to their creators, publishers and/or copyright owners. This story is not written with profit in mind. I make no money from it. It is not for sale or rent.

The Dornish Princess

=ASBS=​

The Red Citadel
Royal District
King's Landing

Ellia Martel was sitting next to the single window in her quarters – her only allowed connection with the outside world. Her slim, almost frail figure was resting in a comfortable wooden chair, which was carved over with the dragon motifs dominating almost everything in the Targaryen seat of power. Ellia absent-mindedly brushed away a stray lock of her lush hair, while staring at the city-planet with unseeing eyes.

The Princess allowed herself a moment to think about the past, which at least in her case was better. Not too long ago she had been happily married, with two beautiful children and magnificent future in front of her. Now… Ellia sighed. Aerys' madness had reached a new peak, stroked by her husband obviously going insane too.

The realm was torn by a civil war, Rhaegar was leading the Royal fleet and their allies in what was meant to be a decisive battle and she was screwed no matter who won. The King was getting more and more paranoid with every passing day and her position was getting more desperate as Aerys' sunk deeper into madness.

It was some time ago that Ellia understood that she wouldn't be leaving King's Landing alive. Even if Rhaegar won – a no certain prospect at any rate, the King was likely to see even that as a plot against himself and likely to do something drastic. That or one of these days, Aerys was going to carry one with his threats to burn Ellia and her children alive.

That was not something the Princess could allow. She had made peace with her fate some time ago – getting out of this mess in one piece would take a divine intervention and in her experience if the gods actually existed, they were cruel, treacherous beings – not someone she would trust with the well-being of her two little angels.

Ellia looked away from the window and smiled fondly as she laid eyes on her daughter. The little girl was lost in her own world, playing on the thick carped dominating the center of the room.

She had to act soon. Ellia knew that if Aerys carried out his threats, her babies would be anything but safe in this place.

The Princess closed her eyes, going over the desperate plan she and her personal guards had cooked up. It was audacious, insane and very, very bloody.

It might just work.

It was too bad that Ellia wouldn't be around to see the outcome.

 

[Illuviar]

Disclaimer: I don't own A Song of Ice and Fire or the Game of Throne books, TV series or games. They belong to their creators, publishers and/or copyright owners. This story is not written with profit in mind. I make no money from it. It is not for sale or rent.

A Song of burning stars


The Quiet Wolf

​

Battleship Frost
Guest quarters
Fleet of the North Flagship
en route to the Trident system

Eddard Stark, the Warden of the North, sat in a richly and comfortably upholstered armchair, paying no attention to the almost opulently furnished rooms he had been calling home for months. With the exception of a few weeks when he was planet-side leading elite Northern heavy infantry in vicious assaults against vital loyalist positions, he had spent the war so far on board of this ship, just as his ancestors did when they waged war.


Once upon a time the very idea would have excited the young man. In fact, just a few months ago, that would have been true.


It was funny how a real war could change the perspective of a man. The shrieking fury of close combat, seeing firsthand whole tank armies clash in the plains leading to planetary defense centers, leading whole fleets in battles that showered worlds with enough debris to render whole continents uninhabitable without some serious clean up and teraforming…


Eddard shivered when thinking how many people had died so far and he was afraid to even imagine how much worse the coming battles would be. First the inevitable clash for the Trident – the gateway to the Crownlands and the Reach. Then the Northmen and their allies would still have to grind their way through half a dozen fortified systems before reaching King's Landing and that would still leave Mace Tyrel's fleets and armies mostly intact. It was a miracle that the Reachmen were content in besieging Storm's End and securing the Storm sector even after Robert had been able to pull back more than half his military back to reinforce their Tully allies.


Then there was the West where Tywin Lannister was bidding his time to do only the Old Gods knew what. The Lord of Winterfell knew that the Warden of the West wouldn't move against the Crown as long as the mad King had his son as a part of the Kingsguard. Yet, was that all that stopped Tywin from opening another front against the Crown or would the Lannisters chose to sell their assistance to the Transparent at a steep price?


Both Eddard and his advisers were torn on the issue. Hoster Tully was sure of one thing – Tywin wasn't going to risk his son in order to help the rebellion. They had sent dispatches seeking an alliance and were yet to receive any form of answer. The only thing anyone knew for certain was that the Western armies and fleets were mustered, however they were ominously silent and yet to make any move beyond their border.


The good news was that if the alliance's agents weren't grievously wrong, neither the Reach's military, nor Lannister's would be of any help in the short term even if they decided to make haste for the Trident.


Still, the one thing everyone knew was that Rhaegar himself was coming and bringing the whole Second Royal fleet with as many Dornish ships and lancers as Dorran Martel had been wiling to spare for the war. Even now, most of Robert's men were fighting at the Trident, aiding the Riverlanders in an offensive meant to secure the system before the Targaryen could come in strength. If the gods were good, they would succeed and force Rhaegar to either execute a jump-point assault against a fortified position, pull back or try stopping the allies as they tried to break out of the system… Yet, none of them would be stupid enough to do so. With the Trident secured, so would be the Riverlands. Even better, given the stellar cartography in this part of the galaxy, controlling the system would give the allies a significant strategic advantage – they could reach the other ways leading towards the Crown sector faster and unless the loyalist either guessed right where to reinforce or abandoned a dozen system to form a new defensive line, nothing was going to stop them from capturing some vital territory and weakening the Crown even further. After all, time worked for the allies. Every day that their grand rebellion prospered was a stab at the crumbling authority of the Targaryens. If they loyalists failed to win for too long, it wasn't going to matter if they would manage a military victory… and even if the worst happened, the North would be secure behind Moat Callin and the Targaryen would be left watching their backs with the remaining Lord Paramounts, smelling blood in the water.


Eddard shook his head. While the best possible outcome was that the allies would secure the Trident before the enemy arrived in force, that was probably little more than wishful thinking. What Stark expected was that both side would be in system before anyone could secure the jumpoints and they would face in an open battle.


Fleet against fleet.


The Warden of the North would actually prefer that. They needed to destroy Rhaegar's forces – that would open many new strategic possibilities and if they managed to get the kidnapping bastard too…


Eddard smiled grimly. When all was said and done, the Prince was the last adult hope for the Targaryens. Without them, the Mad King would be isolated. Everyone knew that both the Dornish and Reachmen didn't raise to support Aerys. They were doing so to curry favor with Rhaegar or because Ellia Martel was all but hostage in King's Landing.


To think that the fate of the realm might hinge upon the life or death of a single man… It was somehow fitting considering that it was Rhaegar who started this madness.


Hopefully his death would end it so Eddard would be free to seek his little sister.


He wanted, needed to know that Lyanna was well and safe, yet dealing with Rhaegar came first. Then the madman on the Iron Throne and only once all that was done, Eddard would be free to reunite what was left of his shattered family.


He just had to wade through a few more oceans of blood to do it.

=ASBS=

The Dancing Gryphon​

The Ruby Fort
Trident System


Jon Connington was determined that he wouldn't fail his Prince again. He had a chance in the Bells system to cripple the rebels by killing Robert Baratheon… yet he left the traitor slip through his fingers because of a misplaced sense of mercy. Jon should have blockaded and bombarded the planet where he knew Robert hid. Such a blow might have broken the enemy's morale or at least made them more cautious.


It might have given enough time for the Royal fleets to reinforce their bases in the Rivers sector.


That was not to be. The loyalists in that part of space were broken force – oh they fought and died valiantly and whole worlds burned for it.


Connington wasn't going to make the same mistake again. Jon was going to redeem himself and if the Seven were good, he wold meet Baratheon in battle and deal with the traitorous cur.


That's why he was here – as a part of Second Fleet's vanguard, he had chosen to rush to the Trident system and reinforce the loyal forces still fighting there. Fortunately, that decision turned out to be the correct one – a few fast destroyer divisions, a handful of fast transports and a few other quick fleet elements under his command arrived in system just as the Rebels were busy assaulting the last major fortification before the jump point and the fortresses guarding it. Of the three planetoid turned into fortified bases by the First Men that controlled the main in-system passage, only the Ruby Fort was still in friendly hands and under heavy assault.


The only good news was that the garrison still held and the enemy main forces hadn't arrived yet.


Jon had just more than enough units under his command to guarantee a safe passage for his ground elements and they landed yesterday, thus reinforcing the valiant defenders who held approximately half the heavy canons built into the planetoid. That was vital – those ancient weapons had enough reach to control the passage through the system. That was possible for a simple reason – most of the Trident was a hell of asteroid fields, minefields and hidden weapon emplacements with a single, five light minutes wide and three high passage dominated by the planetoid fortresses.


In fact, if it wasn't for severe damage suffered during the Dance a century ago, the rebels would have had no chance in seizing the Forts. Unfortunately, the ancient fortresses had significant gaps in their light anti-air and anti-orbit grids that had never been repaired. That allowed the traitors to land troops and the rest was history.


Well, almost…


Jon shook his head as a he felt the enemy approaching. That concentrated his thoughts on the present and he smiled grimly. One armored and three heavy infantry division had dug into the rocky ground leading towards a titanic canon towering kilometers above the surface. In fact even now it kept the loyalist positions in almost perpetual shade even if it was half past noon.


There were also two artillery regiments positioned kilometers behind the dug in troops, not to mention all the anti air ready to swat down any bombers or missiles straying into the battle space.


Most importantly, Connington was in the field, sitting safe and sound in the heavily armored cockpit of his own Knight. His faithful machine towered twenty meters above the ground, which gave its direct fire weapons extraordinary reach, one that was overshadowed by the missile banks and the canon mounted on the back.


One might thing that its sheer height would make any knight an easy prey for virtually any heavy weapon the enemy possessed. That was true… in part at least. Each Knight was made by battlesteel armor – the same used by the fleet. Further, the walkers were the only mobile ground unit able and always boasting a shield generator that allowed them to absorb an unreal amount of punishment and mitigated most of the disadvantages of the bipedal design.


The other big problem – the ground pressure that would have reduced mobility, was solved by a pair of anti-grav generators reducing the weight.


The Knight's sensors reached out and painted the closet targets – a tank platoon acting as scouts for their battalion. Jon pressed the trigger and two emerald lances burned through the thin, almost non-existent atmosphere and slagged the leading vehicles. Their buddies tried to seek cover, but that was simply futile. It wasn't like mere stone could even slow a Knight's weaponry.


A moment later the remains of the platoon were turned into melted wrecks and Jon looked form more targets.


Then a warning burst straight into his mind. Acting on instinct and his training, Connington tried to threw his Knight to the right even before he had comprehended the nature of the danger. Massive heat sources bloomed to life a few kilometers behind the destroyed rebel scouts – right at the head of their main force.


Four spears made of azure fire slammed into Jon's Knight and its shields glowed with golden light as they struggled to deflect and absorb the onslaught. The air at the origin of the enemy fire shimmered and twisted, revealing that the leading rebel elements were nothing more than a technological mirage that now shattered.

Right there across the field stood another knight. It bore the fish crest of House Tully yet it was painted black as the deep of space.


"Blackfish!" Connington grinned in anticipation and triggered his plasma lances.