Every descendant of Crete who is still loyal to their heritage, be they far from home or tending to its ports, be they friends with their families or at odds with them - all flock back to Crete to take part in The Grand Fiesta. A Cretan national celebration, established in memory of their surviving ancestors from Hispania and the first settlers of their harsh homeworld. All of them gather round and fill their brims with rum and plundered food, “until their guts explode in a fiery salute”. The key factor of this celebration is the date itself - given the fickle nature of the Cretan history, the exact date of their ancestors landing on Crete, other than the year, has faded into obscurity. Thus, the date of this celebration is randomly chosen at the end of every Grand Fiesta. Traditionally decided by a dice throw from a chosen Council Elder, this year’s celebration landed on the month of May.

However, this year, the Elders, being the true gentlemen of fortune that they are, have agreed to extend the celebration of The Grand Fiesta beyond Crete - to the rest of the Sirius Sector. Every resident of the colonies and beyond is implored to toss a drink in the name and memory of Crete’s ancestors, whether out of grudge or admiration, while the Cretans themselves set on a pilgrimage across the Sector to share their joy with the rest of humanity - in a form of their infamous Cretan Rum.

Of course, the rumors of such a movement organized by the Corsairs have spread rather swiftly, some even saw this as their way of “warming up” to the rest of the Sector. Their arch nemeses from Malta were the first to take note of such development. Utterly insulted by such a tactic, the Council of Dons has dispatched a directive to the Golden Chrysanthemum matriarch - to eclipse the encroaching Cretan Rum threat with as much Shigeakiki as possible and increase their efforts in spreading the teachings of Yuyu Matsuda.

Yet Malta was not the only player to notice a change in the air. An increase in Corsair traffic has also been noticed by His ever vigilant Watchful Eye. A few successful interrogations about the Corsairs plans, as absurd as they sounded, have in the end been adapted by the Ministry of Truth as a method to advertise the Coalition's ideals. The decision has been made to extend an open arm invitation to the rest of the Sirius Sector, through Volgograd’s finest production - Vodka. With slogans of “Peace, Labour, May”, entire convoys of the Coalition have been dedicated to giving away surplus alcohol produce as a gesture of goodwill along with a courteous invitation to join the Coalition's cause.

The first Global Grand Fiesta has turned from a jolly celebration into a melting pot of benevolent never-do-wellers, with their sworn enemies or simple bystanders caught in the middle.

The long months, and for some - years, of waiting have finally come to an end. What appeared to be yet another routine refueling stop to maintain opsec was at last the real deal: the loading of the technological wonder which would make it all possible. The command staff of the Somerset were given extensive briefings about the capability of the new devices - for there were indeed TWO new technologies at play. They have gamed multiple scenarios over and over, still not fully believing that this moment would ever come to pass. But two days later, when the captain gave the order to jump into Dublin, they did not take the disabled jump gate. The vessel punched a hole directly in the fabric of space, and went through.

The jump itself did not take much longer than one with a standard configuration. The worst fears of all on-board were NOT realized - after all, even a completely forewarned Molly contingent could not cover billions of kilometers of empty space. The egress into Dublin proceeded as a barely organized chaos, as two small supply ships deployed pre-arranged drops and feverishly began mounting weapons platforms. But for the Somerset, an even more important duty lay just ahead. After a brief delay resulting from a power surge that made everyone below the rank of captain shit their pants, the tactical officer enabled the outgoing connection. And, using the last vestiges of the hole in reality, it engaged. In a burst of power and signals which could be termed "otherwordly", the jump bridge, a stable artificial two-way jump hole, was established.

After the brief excitement of the initial ingress, normal training re-asserted itself. The newly arrived Achilles and Founder Task Groups confirmed combat readiness, and proceeded towards their assigned sectors. By this time, their presense in-system was definitely known, but their main opponents were staying ominously silent. In fact, Arranmore detected the Somerset and the resulting gravitational anomaly mere light-minutes after its ingress. After a series of orders, the Mollys executed a pre-arranged operational war plan. Multiple couriers were sent into Omega-48, pilots kissed their partners goodbye, and technicians escorted by a large group of hard men and women began loading two standard-looking Hegemon-class vessels. The invasion had arrived, and the veterans of Arranmore would not be caught unprepared.

While the Mollys and any erstwhile allies they could enlist prepared for their own strike, the Santander instead shifted to a fully defensive footing. Burrowing deeper into the Hood field, the Corsair battlecruiser recalled all but the lightest of its picket patrols, and attempted to exit the Shillelagh's sensor envelope. The aging destroyer, tasked with a slew of new orders from Arranmore, noted and logged the departure, but did not bother pressing an attack. It seemed that the Corsairs would be content to sit this one out, but only the ghost of Ian Carew could truly say when they would strike. Their job was now making sure the Mollys were still in the game when the Corsairs "grew some stones" and challenged the Bretonian aggressors. But until that moment, their enemy was clearly defined: the illegal invaders of the new Molly home.