Awesome, awesome stuff, just found it tonight.  Gave you some karma too, just the thing I've been looking for.  Keep up the awesome work!

lovely work.

i like how u framed ur work on the devs lore and then expanded.

Chapter 6, part 1
So Come the Giants

The Trader Emergency Coalition

5 years ago, outer sector, southern frontier, remote TEC training facility

    Archie snuffled and groaned in his sleep. He was having a nightmare. He was floating in a sea of murkiness. Everything was dark and moved slowly, as if traveling through sludge. Although everything was just a few clear bubble-like objects. Archie couldn't even see himself. Then suddenly, an alien stood in front of him. He looked mostly human, except his face was lined as only a face could look after thousands of years of memory. His eyes burned with white fury, and Archie could just barely make him out without going blind. It looked at him, and then Archie knew. It had done what it did to Zeke. It was this creature, or one just like it. It was their fault. Then Archie lost his amazement and fear, and drew his gun. His own eyes burned then, burned with hatred and disgust. He aimed the gun at the alien's head, and stared into its fiery white eyes. He fired.

10 years ago, core worlds, military sector, planet christened "Space Harbor"

    The sun was just peeping over the horizon, yet the world was still dark. The Jackal stepped lightly down the street, straining to hold in his excitement. It was all he could do not to bare his fangs and grin. He would soon be off in space, soaring through the phase lanes to fight and destroy an enemy that had proved itself hostile towards his Order. But it was not that which excited him. It was the trip through space. The upcoming battle. Or as his mind saw it, the chase...and the kill. He danced a little hop-skip before mastering his emotions again. It was going to be so much fun.
    The Jackal arrived at the space dock, and saw Dumois hesitantly looking out of the officer's lounge. He grinned and crossed over to him. Dumois looked positively startled to see him.
    "What are you...how the...why aren't you with the ships? You're supposed to be leaving now!"
    "Peace, admiral," the Jackal grinned, "I have something to give you first."
    "Well what is it? Hurry it up!"
    The Jackal reached into his pocket and drew out a sheaf of papers. He handed them to Dumois.
    "Contact one of the worlds close to the alien frontier. Not too close, mind, or they might be conquered. One a safe distance away. Tell them to start building these. Those plans also include a design for a building able to produce it. Our normal frigate factories will not be able to construct it."
    Dumois leafed through the sheets. "What are these, Jackal? What in heaven's name are these?"
    The Jackal's smile reminded Dumois of a vampire. "They are designs for a ship, my dear admiral. Designs for a super star ship."

---------------------------

    Time flew by as the Jackal and his ships flew through the phase lanes, always reaching closer to the alien frontier, as frontier it soon became. Hundreds of worlds fell under Vasari control.  Billions of lives were lost. Normal life dissolved as seemingly everyone's friend's friend lost their lives to the alien invaders. The very center of Trader life, the one constant, peace, was lost. A year passed. Another. News of Dumois' fleet---the Jackal always snorted when they called it that, it was his fleet, not Dumois'!---reached the Trader worlds, and newscasters immediately cried out at this "abomination," as they called it. The Trade Order Council immediately convened on the matter, shutting themselves up in the immense court house on one of the home planets for the Order until they came to a decision. And the decision blew the minds of Trader citizens. The court had discussed the matter thoroughly, looking over pictures taken by fleeing trade ships and other small vessels. They had decided that the Vasari were an immediate and grievous concern to the Trade Order, and called for the immediate coalition of all Trader worlds to support this threat. Every single Trader planet protested outrage and disgust at the decree. After a much longer meeting between the heads of the inner home worlds and the Trade Order Council, the Trade Order was declared the Trader Emergency Coalition, and every resource from what had previously been extensive trade lanes became the fuel for the TEC's war machine. Ships were pumped through the factories faster and faster as new technology was discovered; as many as 15 ships came out of each factory a week. Yet the Coalition was still hotly debated, and many small rebellions started up inside the Trader empire.
    And still the Jackal's fleet trudged on, gaining ships as they went. The aliens had not yet be seriously challenged, a small fleet of ragtag pirate-hunting vessels had tried to take on an alien fleet, but had been quickly decimated. After that, all hopes rested on the Jackal's fleet. The Vasari conquered nearly every planet in the Western circle and turned their ships towards the inner planets. The Trader worlds were in upheaval over the news. Then came the day when the Jackal ordered a week's rest at a planet on the very fringe of the TEC'S control, a planet named Haskone. It had not always been a frontier world, but the Vasari were ruthless and had dominated countless worlds by then, and Haskone was now on the verge of being conquered itself. But the Jackal did not have time to wait and defend the quivering planet. The chase was almost up, and he had yet to achieve his kill. The officers of his ships grumbled about the seven day delay, but the Jackal ignored them and spent his time pacing along the decks of his cramped Cobalt frigate. There had been reports of alien ships of monstrous proportions, but the Jackal had nothing of that size in his fleet. At least, not yet. Had Dumois made the necessary arrangements? Were his super star ships being built, and were they heading towards this planet? The week was almost up, and the Jackal was just preparing to give the orders to form up the fleet and leave when they arrived. Three enormous ships, weapons bristling from their hulls, lights and decor staining their sides, suddenly phased in from an eastern phase lane without any warning. They were beautiful. The Jackal heard the wonder in the voices of his subordinates as they watched the ships trudge forward. True, their immense size made their ships' speed drastically decrease, but there was something majestic to the slow pace they kept. This was a beast, hunching its shoulders, ready to pounce. The Jackal had to concentrate to keep his mouth from salivating. But ohhhhhhhh, how it was hard!
    The Jackal gave orders for his staff to be transferred over to one of the super star ships. He met the officers of the ship he chose in the break room.
    "Officers of the capital ship Provians at your service, sir!" One of the men saluted.
    The Jackal made no comment. Capital ship? Dumois thought to change his name for these behemoths! Who did he think he was! The Jackal contained his anger. The damage was done, and he could not change the name now. But there would be a reckoning when he next met up with Dumois.
    "Chart a course to Albellus, and prepare for an interstellar jump when we reach it. Our destination will be the yellow star Hiske. That is all."
    He left the room, ignorant of the stupefied looks of the officers. Nothing? No reaction to the new mega-ships? No words of praise to the men who volunteered to man these monsters? Nothing? The Jackal ignored them as he ignored anything that didn't warrant his attention. Right now, he was concentrating solely on the hunt. And the kill.

Im gonna guess those are Kol's?

not yet, Kol isnt famous yet. They are the ships that will become Kols, though.

Hmmm... Interesting.

Keep it coming. With writing like this maybe u can be published as well

Chapter 6, part 2
The Eve of Battle

The Trader Emergency Coalition

8 years ago, galactic position 344, 798, sun christened "Hiske"

    There was an air of excitement aboard the capital ship Provians. The Jackal realized he was salivating and quickly wiped his mouth. He used his lit-up view screen to pan across the gravity well to where his fleet was forming up for a phase jump. To the hostile, enemy controlled planet of what had a few years ago been Ruidean. Now the space field around the planet was garbled with alien transmissions, but the Jackal and his men could not understand them. He had sent a sample of some of the transmissions back to the capital, but it would take time before it could be properly translated, so the Jackal would have to take his chances.
    "Form up into strategic position A-4!" He called out over the 'tween-ships radio.
    The Jackal did not believe in scouts. What was their use? They could only alert the enemy that there were hostiles outside their gravity well. It would only make them wary, and besides, the Jackal loved surprises.
    "Prepare for jump!" He called again. The lights of the capital ship dimmed and the quiet humming of the antimatter generator increased. All around him, ships were bathed in the blue light of phase holes ripping apart normal space. The Jackal could not remove the grin that lay across his face. It was time. Finally. The hunt was up, now came time for the kill.
    The humming of the antimatter generator grew louder, and the Jackal could hear a faint echo of the generator's noise, which he knew was the sound of the generators aboard the ships nearest to his own. Suddenly the ship gave a heave, and bright lights washed over the painted hull of the Provians. They were in phase space. It was time.

The Vasari

8 years ago, galactic position 305, 835, planet code named VASAR

    The alarm in his room sounded out shrilly, jolting Num'pol out of his bed. Hurriedly he dressed and crossed the darkened hallways of the Platinum and entered the command center.
    "What's happening?" He hissed.
    A Vasari officer stood and bowed, touching finger to forehead, as custom demanded. "We have approaching invaders, Elite Subjugator. They are of an unknown design."
    "Unknown? Then they are not of the fiends that demolished 1st branch?"
    "No, Elite Subjugator, they are completely unknown to us. They broadcast a signal, yet the language is unclear to me. Here is a sample."
    Num'pol received the paper from the officer's hand and looked at it. Across the paper was scrawled the same characters, although Num'pol could not read the language. This is what was scrawled:
    TEC TEC TEC TEC TEC TEC TEC TEC TEC TEC TEC TEC TEC TEC TEC TEC TEC TEC TEC TEC TEC TEC TEC TEC TEC TEC TEC TEC TEC TEC TEC TEC TEC TEC TEC TEC TEC TEC TEC TEC TEC TEC TEC TEC TEC TEC
    Num'pol ground up the sheet and threw it at the officer. "Is the fleet preparing to convene on them?"
    The officer backed away slowly from Num'pol. "Elite Subjugator...we did not wish to wake you..."
    "WHAT IS IT?" Num'pol roared.
    "My m-most h-humble apologies, Elite Subjugator, b-but..."
    Num'pol took a menacing step forward. "I swear on the life of my ancestors and the honorifics of my forefathers, tell me what has happened to my fleet!"
    "The Junakra called for the rest of the fleet to join it, Elite Subjugator! I'm sorry, Elite Subjugator, I really am!"
    Num'pol bellowed into the ceiling. The Junakra was the Fleet Admiral Commander's ship. Admiral Commander Flankx had stripped him of his entire fleet just when they were most needed!
    "How many ships do we have still stationed here?"
    "N-not m-more than a couple leaves, Elite Subjugator. T-the rest were c-called away."
    "Hell's kitchens roast your damned head!" Num'pol thundered.
    The officer shrunk and visibly quaked in fear.
    Num'pol sighed heavily and slid a hand across his face. When he next spoke, it was in a much calmer tone. "Forgive me, Eviscerate, I spoke out of temper. The Fleet Admiral Commander has seen fit to remove the majority of my fleet? Very well, he must have his reasons. I want a tally of exactly how many ships I am left with and I want them organized and prepared for the enemy fleet phasing towards us! How much longer will it be, by the way?"
    An officer stood up in the rear of the command center. "Twenty clicks, Elite Subjugator!"
    "And how many ships are ready for combat?"
    "Two leaves, sir, but that's the most we should expect. There are a few being repaired, but they are not space-worthy yet and will not be able to participate in this fight."
    "Do we have a number of the enemy ships yet?"
    A Senior Eliminator called out. "A root and a half at least, Elite Subjugator, but there will probably be more!"
    Num'pol growled. The odds were hopelessly against him.
    "Move all units to these coordinates, and prepare for enemy fire!"
    Even with victory hopelessly out of reach, Num'pol would stand and grind the Vasari's enemies into the dust. He would fight against overwhelming odds, like Esquian. Num'pol did not know exactly what had happened with his old acquaintance---he would still never acknowledge actually having a friend---but he knew that Esquian and his fleet had perished, yet he had still somehow figured out a way to close the wormhole he had traveled through, effectively blocking the enemy from reaching Vasari-controlled space. Num'pol only hoped he could have so great a legacy. But now, on the eve of battle, there was nothing he could do but wait. For the weak shall fall, and the strong shall fall, and the Vasari will remain triumphant.

there a few quirky things im trying to do in this story, so I just wanted to talk about them in case some people are missing them.

for the Vasari and TEC, (and Advent once they start conquering planets) the name of the planet differs for each race, even though it is the same planet. sometimes. also, you can tell what race is referring to the planet not just by scrolling up to see which race it is, but by how the planet is named. so let me explain that. for the vasari, a planet is "code named," and for the TEC, a planet is "christened." the advent will either "decree" a planet or "enlighten" them. i.e. planet decreed ________ or planet enlightened as _________. I havent decided yet.

also, im trying to include a mention of the title in each part, hopefully in some way significant. I haven't done that for some, but most titles are mentioned some way in each part and I hope some of them are significant to the story, or make that chill go up your spine.

FINALLY, you wouldn't be able to see this here, but in each of my stories (currently in writing are Sinners and the Sea of Mists, with the Netherworld in stand-by phase) has my author name, C.I., mentioned in some imortant way. No C.I. has been mentioned in Sinners yet, and it would only seem "Aw, that's sweet!" once I have my other stories done, those hopefully published, but I just wanted to put that one in here too.

My minds running blank now, but if anyone notices another quirky thing I'm doing in my story let me know

i remember what else I wanted to tell you guys. Here's the list of basic group formations for the three races. There's no exact size mentioned, and just because one group is listed in the same line as another from a different race does not mean they are of the same size. it just goes smallest to largest for each race separately.

*the Atlanteans are not neccesarily the largest group for the Advents, just undeniably the most powerful*

Two Words: Pure PWNFULNESS!!!!!  

More more more!!!

one word:

karma 

Ok, Ive now have made it through the last chapter. I must say your a story writting machine!! Love how you have done more than 1 side of the story!!! Look forward to reading more!

Chapter 6, part 3
Fire

The Trader Emergency Coalition

8 years ago, phase space, headed towards galactic position 305, 835

    "What's our ETA?" The Jackal demanded.
    "Thirty minutes, sir!" An officer called out.
    "Wake me in twenty. I'll be in my cabin." The Jackal was about to leave the room, then paused and turned back.
    "You there, Sergeant, come here."
    The officer approached. "Yes, sir?"
    The Jackal took a sheet of paper from a nearby desk and scribbled on it furiously. "Take this message. Tell the ships to broadcast it repeatedly over open channels."
    The sergeant looked down at the sheet, confused. "Sir?"
    "Propaganda, idiot," the Jackal snarled, "to let them know we will not be pushed so easily around. Now send it out!"
    The sergeant saluted and marched back to his desk, where he began speaking over the 'tween-ships radio. The Jackal left the command bridge, crossed down the hallway, and fell onto the bunk in his private room. It was always wise to come into battle with a sharp, well-rested mind. The Jackal fell asleep and dreamed......
    He looked down at the cheering multitudes and back up to the perfectly blue sky, cloudless yet the day was at a perfectly comfortable temperature. Everything was perfect today. He watched the hysterical crowds of people crying his name, screaming praise at him. Him, the Jackal, the hero of the Trader Emergency Coalition, not some monster locked up in the deepest depths of Trader prison. The savior of the Coalition who had wiped out the encroaching alien menace. He looked over his shoulder where Dumois was being dragged off to a military tribunal on the charge of altering the Jackal's ship design. His ship design. The Jackal looked across at the shining buildings reflecting the sun's heat. Something in his reflection caught his eye, and he frowned. There was something...wrong...with his skin. The Jackal looked down at his hand. The skin was charred and blackened, burned to a crisp.
    The Jackal started up as the siren in his room gave three shrill beeps. He wiped the cold sweat from his forehead and looked down at his watch. It had been twenty minutes. Ten minutes to battle. He crossed his room, shoved open the door, and headed down the hallway towards the command bridge. What had that dream meant? It had seemed so real...the Jackal shook his head. Only fools listened to their dreams. And found only what they wanted to find, often enough. The Jackal entered the command bridge and barked for an update. His aid hurried up and saluted.
    "Sir, the fleet is less than ten minutes away, and have been broadcasting your message the whole time, as you ordered."
    He put a question on the last part, as if asking if he had really ordered the sergeant to deal such an unusual order. The Jackal ignored it.
    "Put the ETA up on the big screen. I'll be at my desk."

The Vasari

8 years ago, galactic position 305, 835, planet code named VASAR

    "How much longer?" Num'pol rasped out.
    "Less than 4 clicks, Elite Subjugator!" A Senior Eliminator called out.
    Num'pol studied his gravity well. He had positioned his ships as best as he could. There was nothing left he could do. His scanners had identified three skirvanas leading a host of smaller ships, while he had just his Platinum. It was suicide to remain, yet that was what Num'pol intended to do.
    And the skies shall split asunder, while all the Vasari call, yea, here is the time of our dominion! And falling from the skies shall be the bright Darkness, and it shall consume us, thought Num'pol, quoting from the Prophecies of Darkness. He shook his head and called out. "Prepare weapon systems! Rouse the grunts and tell them to rouse the slaves! Our Great Battle is upon us! Fight, or die as cowards!"
    The entire ship roared its approval.

The Trader Emergency Coalition

8 years ago, phase space, approaching galactic position 305, 835

    "Beat to quarters!" The Jackal roared out. The time-honored tradition of beating drums into battle had been with the Traders since the great pirate wars thousands of years ago. In this day and age, however, the sound of the ancient war drums was blasted over the speakers instead of having real men drum them on board. The drum beats reverberated up the Jackal's spine, and he fairly cackled in delight. It was time. The hunt was over. The kill was imminent.
    Then the ships gave a rumble, and they left phase space.
    The Jackal saw the enemy's ships and fairly laughed aloud. They had less than half his own number! But he also saw the formations they had been divided into, and called out orders over the 'tween-ships radio. His own ships formed up, came into range, and fired. The Jackal actually did cackle out loud as he saw the enemy ships retreat under the heavy fire. Then something out of the corner of his eye drew his attention. The enemy capital ship, so large it could be nothing else, was bearing directly for his Provians, and the Jackal could see the weapons charging up.
    "All fire onto the capital ship!" He called out, directing the fleet's attention by placing a marker on the capital ship in his bird's eye holographic display of the battle. He saw the other two capital ships wheel around, slowly, ever so slowly, and crawl towards them. But it was too late.
    "Fire all guns!" The Jackal commanded as a shock wave reverberated over the ship. "Damage report!"
    "We were hit, sir, but the shields took most of the blast!" An officer called out. "But some of those missiles, sir, some of them slipped through the shield and impacted us! We have a fire on 6 deck, but it's not large. Permission to assemble a fire team?"
    "Permission be damned, I'll lead it myself!" The Jackal roared. Adrenaline raced through his bloodstream. He had to do something, if he just stayed in the command bridge he would go crazy. He grabbed a headset from the rack beside the command bridge's heavy double doors, and pulled aside an officer.
    "You're in charge of the bridge now, Major Judman. See that the ship stays in one piece!"
    Approaching the doors, the Jackal called out, "Commodore Jackal retires the watch, Major S. Judman has the watch!"
    Judman looked worried. "Are you sure, Commodore? Think about this!"
    The Jackal roared at him. "I RETIRE THE WATCH! YOU HAVE THE WATCH, MAJOR JUDMAN!"
    Judman repeated, "I have the watch!" in a resigned sort of tone, and the Jackal was off. Using his headset to call a few crewmen over to the fire, he opened a utility cache set into the wall and grabbed an instant hose. The little nozzle set over the not-so-large canister was able to deal out 20 gallons of water before needing to recharge. He then hurried over to the fire zone and met up with the other crewmen. They each had one of the small water canisters with them. The Jackal waved his arm as an affirmative, and they all opened fired, as the saying goes, on the fire. The flames were not so large, but the heat was intense. Several minutes went by as the ship took more hits and shook. The Jackal took his hand from the nozzle and wiped his brow as he let the crewmen finish up the last few flickers of flame. He stepped to the side and called up the command bridge on his headset.
    "How's the situation?" He barked.
    There was a crackle of static and Major Judman responded. "Our shields have taken a heavy pounding sir, and a few missiles slip by it and strike our hull on every wave. Other fires have sprung up, but I've already sent out crews to put them out. The enemy's ship has not been damaged yet, as far as I can see, sir, but that just means we have not penetrated their shields yet, sir."
    "What about the other capitals, are they firing?"
    "Aye, sir, they've joined us. One on the enemy's ship stern and another across its bow. There's only one way the ship could go if it tried to flee, and the bulk of our forces are over there dealing with the rest of the enemy's ships. He won't escape."
    "Very good, Major, well done. I am heading back to the bridge now. Let me know if there are any more major developments!"
    Just then the ship gave a tremendous heave and the lights flickered. The Jackal caught himself on the wall as the ship tilted and then righted itself.
    "Report!" The Jackal shouted. "What happened!"
    "Our shields are down, sir!" Judman shouted back. " He impacted our hull, and the metal can't take the direct hits! We have fires between 4 and 5 deck, and another on the end of 6 deck!"
    "I'll take my fire team and put out the one on 6 deck!" The Jackal called back. He turned behind him and motioned for the other men to catch up. They came running, and he sprinted along the hallway towards the fire. He could see a red glow on the walls now.
    "No, sir! Do not approach the fire site! The hull is too weakened there, it could collapse on you!"
    "Concentrate on reaching the enemy ship's hull!" The Jackal cried out, "I'll take care of the fire!"
"Sir-" The Jackal switched off his headset. He motioned for the crewmen to run faster.
    They reached the fire. Flames roared at them from floor to ceiling, and the Jackal got the tell-tale headache of space-air, as it was called, which meant oxygen was being released from the ship and the nothingness of space was replacing it. He flipped a switch on the nozzle and aimed it at the wall where he judged the hole to be. He couldn't see the wall through all of the thick, heavy smoke. This time when he sprayed a white foam spewed out along the wall. The sealant would be useless against enemy fire, but would prevent more oxygen from escaping into space. Almost immediately his headache started to dim, and the Jackal focused his attention on the fire. The other crewmen were already hard on it, spraying their pressurized water, but they could have been firing plastic water guns kids used to play with before the war for all the good it did. But they would have to try, damn it. The Jackal ran up and squirted his own canister. Damn, he had forgotten to switch the nozzle back to water. He fumbled with the nozzle for a moment, and then an arc of water spewed from his own canister, and he directed it at the flames.
    Then there was a loud crash, an enormous bang, and the Jackal's world was consumed by flame.

i updated my galaxy forge and now my old map of the vasari-tec frontier wont load on it, but hopefully i can get that fixed before i need to write another part. if that takes a while, the next parts gonna be a while. i cant write without that map as direction.