The Straite : Exposition IC

[Darkmatter]

Plot: ~Exposition

-There is a theory which states that if ever anybody discovers exactly what the Universe is for and why it is here, it will instantly disappear and be replaced by something even more bizarre and inexplicable. There is another theory which states that this has already happened....



Welcome to the Straite
A galaxy brimming with life begins to come into its element. Not for the first time, the Straite is teeming with sentience as a multitude of intelligent life forms start a new chapter in their history. Some are established powers, empires already spanning star systems, only looking to expand further. Others are fledging nations, only clambering tentatively out of their own systems.

Diplomacy, tact, treachery, appeasement, cunning, strength, intelligence; only a balance of necessary attributes and planning will forge a future for these nations. The Straite is a dangerous place, and it's time to find out just how much so...



A small desolate moon falls perpetually around its planet. The planet, a massive Jovian, is of little consequence. The moon too, is seemingly dismissible. Another random occurrence, an assortment of minerals and ores bound together and locked in orbit around a mass of gas, in turn held together only by its own gravity. Yet, as any galactic historian worth their Sputtle salt knows, it is often the most apparently inconsequential places where the most consequential events occur.

And so it was that somewhere in the deep recesses of the Straite's impenetrable core, far beyond the extent of the Imperial Systems Commonwealth, far from the knowledge of the Avaloos, that one such event, of utmost consequence, did occur. On that moon, outside the limits of Hamacian pondering, a beacon began to beckon.

[generaldisaster]

ACTIONS: -Capitalist Venture (500 C)
-Send Expeditionary Force, codename '73Hz' (100C)
-Send Expeditionary Force, codename '95Hz' (100C)

Total change: -3 Ppoints, -700C, 10 Corvettes deployed

"...and now to business, with 152>97Hz," whined the translator. Of all the planets in all the systems Gamma Solutions had to send him to, it had to be this one. Khali had never been blessed by the Essence with luck and he didn't have much hope of it changing it's mind now. This wasn't even a very nice world; the water was far too cold for his liking, and all of the inhabitants spent all of the time naked. Just because they had never developed the concept of nakedness or clothing was no reason for them to inflict their shelled forms on the rest of the universe, thought the scaly creature, scratching himself near the glo-heater. At least the company had provided decent living quarters - top of one of the basalt columns, nice facilities, vid-link to just about every newscast in the Arm, and every channel bar the terrestrials was offline due to a satellite malfunction. How a race who had been sending satellites up for two millennia still managed to get newscasts broken by something as simple as an alignment malfunction baffled him - then again, grumbled the green, lizard-like creature, flexing his dorsal frills, that was what came of giving graviton drives to races as young as the Sputtlefish.

"Never trust an alien whose name you cannot pronounce," his Matron had always said, but did he listen, no, and now he was stuck one translation failure away from isolation on a planet filled with giant armor-plated squid. It wasn't bad enough that they filled him with memories of those dreadfully huge beasts back home in the municipal aquariums, no, they also had to have claws, thick armour plates and technology enough to outfit a dreadnought-equivalent cruiser. Magnificent. At least they were held back by biology - not many planets were covered in the oceans they needed, and even fewer had the kind of natural bounty that the Sputtlefish had enjoyed here - geological activity alone would take them years to discover as long as no other race made the mistake of co-operating with these jumped-up mollusks.

"Gamma Solutions has today announced that it is constructing a new series of facilities on 0, aiming to capitalize on sources of undersea uranium for armament manufacture. The public seem pleased at this development, but [ERROR CODE #23151 - STREAM OF CONSCIOUSNESS - UNABLE TO TRANSLATE] have indicated some displeasure at the decision of Space Corps to divert funds to assist a smooth transition into the planetary conditions." Oh, brilliant. Because of that translation blank, now the speech was out of sync with the vidscreen, and by the time that thing had finished ranting about currency flotations on some miserable backwater colony from another race the main anchor (the irony of the term was not lost of Khali, whose frills shook with approval at the thought) was halfway through some other message.
"The Space Corps has announced a new colonization effort, with two explorer fleets sent out to explore nearby systems, assess their worth, and wherever possible settle on a suitable planet. Nominated Commander 126Hz<152Hz released a statement, saying that the Space Corps 'welcomed applicants to form the second wave of colonists once ideal worlds had been settled, and thanked the worlds for their unified positive response to the new move." What a load of Sputtle salt. All this reckless optimism was far too much for Khali this early in the cycle - he had a job to get to. Gamma Solutions weren't going to get deals done without their negotiator on site, and turning off the vid-screen, he flicked a muscular tail and sped out through the water, out of the gap in the wall and into the Stream, stuck behind a particularly slow, elderly Sputtlefish who seemed to have some kind of mobility assistance fan mounted to the top of her dorsal section.

Fans, grumbled the perennially unhappy Ha'ryj, I'm stuck on a planet with a race of people who fit their old with fans. This was going to be a very long assignment.

[Arxia]

"Mr. President, you requested to see the four major party leaders? Well, they're here," the security personaly posted at his office door alerted him.
"Excellant! Let them in!" Hurok told him.
Four men walked in and sat down. Three were fellow Blues, like Hurok himself. The other, was a Red. All were dressed in pants, a button up shirt, and a cloak of matching colours, with dark black shoes on there feet. The standard, male professional look. In order from left to right around his desk were Jona (Representing the People's Democratic Party), Kryler (Representing the Constitutional Party), Lorsik (Representing the Advanced Research Party), and Gelltir (Representing the Liberty Party). Jona eyed Hurok. Hurok came from the Constitutional Party, the rival of the People's Democratic Party. Conservative Hurok versus Liberal Jona was how last election went, and Jona lost by a large margin.
"Look," Hurok began speaking to the group, "We are going to in a few years have a problem with our Horexian colonies. We fear they are going to rebel against us in much the same way that this country had its origins. Especially when you consider that soon large scale migration is going to begin taking place, giving people currently in bad positions the chance to go to Horexia. They're going to want a bigger say in government matters then what they have, and we need to consider writing a new form of government to accomodate for it.
"Horexia has already formed a planetary government that they feel has more legitamite power on the planet than we do. If we eliminate that government, that is sure to accelerate things along."
"Don't forget about Skarana," Lorsik piped up, "They have an even greater probability of seceding that Horexia does!"
"True enough," Hurok conceded. "The point is, we need to have a convention to write a new constitution. One where Horexia and Skarana have a large enough say in government that they won't secede. I figure have 10 people from each of the three worlds meet, including the four of you from this world. You contact the world governments of Skarana and Horexia alerting them of this, and get everything under way. I am to have no involvement from this point on. That is all, and this is your project now."
The men stood up and shook hands with Hurok before exiting his office. Hurok sat down and pulled up his daily report on his computer screen. The first headline was always the one deemed to be most important. Today it said "Long Suspected to Exist Particle Graviton Discovered on Skarana"

Kryler returned to his office as Director of the Treasury. That was quite an interesting request. In a certain manner of speaking, it was a liberal move, but it was with conservative intentions, he knew. But for now, he had more important matters to attend to: directing budget money.
"Let's see, let's see," he spoke to himself before recieveing a message on his computer from the President. It was short and to the point "Put Budget Into SCIENCE". Hmm. Okay, then. Money directed into science, check. However, the government bank should also take a capitalist venture. Okay, that should suffice for today's budget work. Gods I'm happy my predecessors decided to spread out budget management throughout the year.
He looked at his computer again and saw he had a message from Jona. "Meet me at Ledith Hall" it said. Kryler knew what that meant. He got up and walked out of his office and through the building's lobby area. Outside the lobby, he saw the beautiful scene of Valoria City. With parks and buildings built into the mountainside, it was a spectacle. Plus, beyond the city was the vast beauty of the rainforest. He walked by the canal for a bit, and then made his way over the bridge and then under a waterfall to Ledith Hall. He pulled his cloak hood up to hide himself and entered. He saw Jona with his hood up and walked over to him.
"You are going to support me in that convention," Jona told him.
"I am, now??" Kryler inquired.
"25 million says you are," Jona informed him, holding up a briefcase.
"Oh! Right! I am," Kryler said taking the briefcase, "You're a good man, Jona."
"And you will be rewarded greatly when our cause is realized," Jona told Kryler.


SUMMARY:
Events:
The President Secretly Orders a Convention to Form a New Government Giving People on Other Worlds More Power in the Government
Jona Once Again Bribed Kryler without Anyone Knowing
Actions:
Capitalist Venture - 1000C; 1Ppoint
Scientific Advancement - 200C; 1Ppoint
Scientific Advancement - 200C; 1Ppoint

Net Change:
Fleet -- None
C ------ Minus 1400
Ppoint - Minus 3
Status - Plus 20

Current Status:
Cs : 25,600
Ppoints: 0
Dreadnoughts:
Battleships: 1
Crusiers: 6
Destroyers: 10
Frigates: 25
Corvettes: 150
Fighters/Fast Attack Craft: 10,000 (7000 Defending Valoria, 2000 Skarana, 1000 Horexia)
War Agreements: NONE
Economic Pacts: NONE
Alliances: NONE
Great Advancements: NONE
Cultural Idols: NONE
War Heroes: NONE
Status: 0 + 20 (For Scientific Advancement)

[Marrone]

With a flash of recusant spins, the dance floor lightened in an ecstatic array of flesh. The music was pumping, the flavor was flying, the switch-billy two step cross-hatch fakey chucky-boo boo's synthesized together before you could realize:

"Boy oh boy, do I feel alive!"

Wyloo's muscles glistened as his body finished the small spectacle, and instantly his eyes were drawn to his female onlookers. One was a blonde, hair curled up into a mock bun, pointing upwards. It was a new style, not too eccentric, and wowee did it liven up her face. The dance-clothes she sported also had a trend of upwards;

always up, keep you looking up, the V neck looked twisted upside down and it's true, his eyes naturally moved to those two sparkling blue beads of hers.

She was surrounded by what looked to be her friends, a brunette with dark mascara and longer hair, and another girl, a little younger (or at least shorter) with the same hair cut but dyed pink. Not needing to build up courage, Wyloo sauntered over to greet himself,

"Hey there, baby girl. How you--" Her finger pressed against his lip, and she forced an object into his hand.

It was a small, oblong pill. The man took a step back and looked at her cross, "What's this?"

"It's some mesophane. Go ahead and try it."

But to Wyloo, messages of consternation wound in his brain. A drug? Why would he need a foreign substance to elicit an experience he'd never remember? He tried handing it back, "Nah, I'm no guinea pig."

She didn't even pretend to accept his refusal, "We're on it. Everyone knows it's safe.

Come on . . ." She raised an eyebrow, and her being shorter than him, let her eyes wide open in a sort of enchanting gesture.

With the burst of peer pressure, Wyloo instantly regretted his decision as the pill made its way down his esophagus.

---

The lights beamed on.

Anweeb grinned at the to-be head pilot of the Dreadnaught, "And wa-la, the ship has more than enough power. Sure, it needs some fixings here and there, but atleast we covered those gaps in the hull and restabalized the system."

Looking around in a cursory, non-engaged fashion, Najir placed his finger on his chin. “I like it. Yeah, this’ll do just fine. You know, it’s amazing what you hackers can do.”

Grinning, she just shrugged, “It was a challenge, but hey, that’s all I’m after. Besides, I couldn’t do it alone. All those engineers patched the holes up and re-wired the mainframe. It was just us who made sure the program let you in.”

“Well, the crew and I will do our best to make sure none of this was for nothing. We’ve got people from all around who’ve been studying this up, and it’s going to be great to get a chance to take her for a spin sometime.”

---

“Alright, and this one isn’t programmed to destabilize at key words. It’s not a training machine, it’s the real thing. Lets see how the AI can process the information.”

Jayman, a Mind Blender in the making, was in an interrogation room with a robot head. To him, it was just another training session. Already his throat was still sore. He looked at the mirror, which was essentially a window, and the light beamed green.

The engineer and the psychotherapist almost ducked in cover. The sound proof walls protected them and they had no way of reading his lips. It wasn’t long until the done button was pushed. Smoke fumed out from the room and the two men got up to give Jayman a congratulatory—and then he puked all over the floor.

It was too much for him.

He couldn’t handle it.

---

Tanks rolled through the subway system. Iwekitat sprinted down the stairs but he could feel sensations of shell shock emulating through his skull; a compression of screaming shrapnel infinitely winding in penetrating fervor.

“This is unit five at coordinate five, zero, sigma foxtrot; I need some air support”

Before he could hear “Roger”, an emasculating explosion rippled behind him.

The hero popped up from his chair and tore off the visual simulation helmet.

“Sorry doc. I didn’t do too well that time.”

“That’s alright Iwe, just get some sleep, we’ll try again tommorow.”

---

“Actually, if we just let the interfacing paradigms align. . .
and there we go! We’re one step closer to finding this thing out!”

---

“Now, you see, that’s why musical culture comes to a sort of duality. Lets look at example A and B, shall we?”

---

Kimeyo pulled his gears into full throttle. “Alright team, lets do this thing.”

And off into the deprivation of space did they travel.

---

Spoiler

---

Scientific Advancement: 1 Ppoint and 200 CS
Scientific Advancement: 1 Ppoint and 200 CS
Send Expeditionary Force: 1 Ppoint and 100 CS, 5 Corvettes in Deployment

Total Change: -500 CS, -3 Ppoint, 5 Corvettes Deployed and 20+ Status

[Vahir]

Actions:

-3 Scientific Advancements {-3 Ppoints, -600 Cs}

Status:

Cs : 200
Ppoints: 0
Dreadnoughts: 1
Battleships: 6
Crusiers: 12
Destroyers: 25
Frigates: 45
Corvettes: 150
Fighters/Fast Attack Craft: 10,000
War Agreements: NONE
Economic Pacts: NONE
Alliances: NONE
Great Advancements: NONE
Cultural Idols: NONE
War Heroes: NONE*
Status: 0

In the center of the western arm of the Straite, orbiting a red giant star reaching the end of it's life, a single large planet resided, a gas giant wracked by chaotic storms. The scene is oddly serene, as this lonely planet slowly turns around it's parent. But then there was a flash of light, and a sleek, ovular ship appeared out of nowhere. Though large, it was dwarfed by the planet, S-1, but it's captain was decidedly unimpressed, having seen the scene countless times before. As the ship began to accelerate, a message was sent out.

"This is TF-233C to Sanctuary. Transit complete, we are approaching in peace."

The voice was monotonous and gutteral, due to the simple fact that this particular captain didn't have vocal cords, nor hands, feet, or even a heart. All he had was his brain, and the life support suit known as the Casket which kept him functioning. It was not long before he- Or should it be it?- received an answer.

"This is the Sanctuary to TF-233C. We hear you, and know of your ambition. We rejoice at your arrival, and welcome you to our home. May you prosper eternally."

"As should you, brother," it responded, completing the traditional greeting.

The ship began to accelerate towards the planet, and as it flew around the giant, a monolithic structure came into view, a mass of metal and wires floating around S-1 at a snail's pace, with the converted remains of five ancient ships at it's center. This was Lumos Prime, also known as Sanctuary- A nigh holy place for all of the ascended people, the Sithill, who had long ago discarded flesh for the artificial in their quest for perfection. It was the Sanctuary, their home since their last one was destroyed by a wandering asteroid. For ages they had wandered, seeking a world as perfect as themselves, and in the end they decided that, as they had judged their natural bodies to be imperfect, all natural planets were simply below them, and so they constructed the perfect homeland. In the innumerable halls of the Sanctuary, the Sithill were free to work, live lives of leisure, and most importantly advance the limits of knowledge in their eternal quest for perfection.

The ship landed on a docking platform, connected to the main structure only by a large wire, which also served as a transportation system which extended throughout the Sanctuary. No sooner had it smoothly landed than a rush of haulers, machines constructed for manual labor, advanced up to it on their spider-like legs, and emptied the cargo of the tons of foodstuffs it had brought, while the captain, the sole member of the crew, slithered out of the ship on its tentacular limbs, it's casket constructed out of a special kind of hardened plastic developed long ago by the Sithill. At the core of it all, protected by inches of metal, lied the brain, the only organ deemed important enough to be retained during the conversion. As it dragged itself smoothly and swiftly to the elevator, where it was lowered into a pipe in the tube, another Sithill watched with it's telescopic eyesight from the high perch of the deck of the Spera, the greatest of the sacred life-ships which had carried them there.

It's name was Scientam, and it was the was a Councillor, one of the thirteen who ruled Sanctuary. Each had its academic specialty, and Scientam was an economist, and served as administrator of the Sithill Republic. It was he that saw to the day-to-day management of the Republic, and to the steady flow of goods coming from the various colonies. The other Councillors managed everything from the Republic's defensive capabilites to the colonization drives that Sanctuary required in order to sustain itself. The latter was actually relevant at that moment; Scientam had just met via hologram with the Councillor in question, requesting that two expeditionary forces be sent off to parts unknown in order to scour for resources. Earlier, he had contacted with Tristys, Councillor of Perfection, and requested that he divert large amounts of resources into the development of technologies, as the Sithill did whenever possible. Thus, the Republic was now in great economic strain, and the fifty-thousand odd Sithill on Sanctuary knew it, as no knowledge was hidden or obscured there. He could think of only one thought:

This might damage his approval ratings for the next elections.

[Ozerath]

Actions:
Scientific Advancement (-1 Ppoint, -200c, + 10 status)
Expeditionary force x2 (-2 Ppoints, -200c, 10 corvettes deployed)

Status:
Cs : 600 (-400)
Ppoints: 0 (-3)
Dreadnoughts: 1
Battleships: 6
Crusiers: 12
Destroyers: 25
Frigates: 45
Corvettes: 140 (10 deployed)
Fighters/Fast Attack Craft: 10,000
War Agreements: NONE
Economic Pacts: NONE
Alliances: NONE
Great Advancements: NONE
Cultural Idols: NONE
War Heroes: NONE*
Status: 10 (+10)




It is a rare thing in the world of interior decorating to find a room that strikes the perfect balance between ornate and tasteful, or luxurious and functional, or elegant but not ostentatious. This room - one of many offices within the maze of Drachenburg palace - managed to hit that balance perfectly. The carpeting was dominated by a subdued reddish hue, with intricate patterns tracing across the floor. The walls were adorned with wooden panels arranged in simple yet appealing formations, while the windows were framed by thick crimson drapes, which helped to ward off Praetoria's generally chilly weather. At the moment, they were drawn back, and the gleaming lights of the city shimmered in the snowy night air. Bookshelves covered most of one wall, while on the opposite, a fire crackled merrily on an open hearth, lending an almost cheery atmosphere to the room. The fire was almost actually necessary, as the ancient hallways of Drachenburg did not have the advantage of modern insulation.

The office's furnishings matched its decoration in terms of tasteful elegance. A large wooden desk sat squarely at one end of the office, its colour flawlessly matching the walls. Behind the desk, seated on a leather swivel chair was Lord Otto Ludwig von Bismarck, First Lord of the Void, Earl White Haven, recipient of the Imperial Star, Knight of the Order of St. Gabriel and Admiral of the Royal Commonwealth Navy. Across from him sat Prince Clement Wenzel von Metternich, First Minister of Her Imperial Majesty's Government, Lord Chancellor of the Commonwealth, Duke Bradenburg, and Adjutant of the Order of Praetoria. Beside and bellow him, on a small but elegant armchair designed specifically for Rhodesians, sat Sir Cato Telemachus, Minister of the Interior and Knight of the Order of Kurath. At the other end of the room, a couch and two armchairs were arranged around a coffee table in front of the fireplace. On the couch there lounged Lord Captain Commander Martuf of the Yanissan Principalities. The first three were close friends and some of the most powerful people in the Commonwealth. The fourth was more mysterious than powerful, but the three had long since learned to pay heed to his insights.

"Unbelievable" Bismarck exclaimed with disgust as he finished reading over a particularly troubling report.
"I'm afraid that's the reality of the situation my friend," Metternich replied with a sigh. "We're still recovering from the Valerian war, and the budget has to be trimmed somewhere. What with all the instability in the colonies, I'm not surprised the Equalists are pushing us to cut fleet spending."
Bismarck made an indelicate sound at the mention of the Equalists. They were a relatively new party that had risen to sudden popularity in the most recent parliamentary elections, largely due to the charisma of their leader, a commoner man by the name of John Layton. Bismarck and Metternich's own Crown Loyalists had lost their majority government in those same elections, and even forming a coalition with their sometimes-allies, the Centralists, hadn't been enough to establish control over the house. Hence, the Equalists. They didn't have many seats, but with Parliament as divided as it was these days, those few seats were of immense value to whoever could woo the Equalists. Rather than let the xenophobic and backwards Republicans or the delusional Social Democrats have their way, Metternich had been forced to reach out to the Equalists, whose views were a shade liberal for Bismarck's tastes.

The problem was the colonies. In fact, the problem was always the colonies. While technically all Colonial territories were under the jurisdiction of Her Imperial Majesty and the Office of Colonial Affairs, they were always a sensitive topic in Parliament, despite the fact that they weren't even represented in the house. Each of the major parties had radically different opinions on the colonies and what should be done with them, hence the Equalists interest in a subject that was technically none of their business.

"What exactly has them so upset this time?" Bismarck inquired.
"Oh, the usual I expect. The quotas are too harsh and the stipends too small, the same old complaints. I suppose they may be a bit sore about the Valerians as well," Metternich grumbled.
A chuckle emanated from the couch. "A bit sore, Prime Minister? I get a bit sore when my lunch is late. The latest reports from the field indicate that many of the colonies could be better described as 'outraged' or 'furious'." Martuf held up a hand, anticipating the PM's concern. "No, don't worry, they're far from any kind of rebellion, but the average man on the average colonial world is feeling like he's been robbed of his rightful place on the pecking order. Some of those worlds have been waiting for full membership for over 50 years, and meanwhile the Valerians show up and get full membership immediately. It's enough to ruffle anyone's feathers." He chuckled again at his slight joke.
"I'm afraid to say that the colonies aren't the only ones upset by the Valerian situation" Telemachus squeaked, his small hands retrieving a tiny datapad from a diminutive briefcase. He tapped a few buttons and forwarded a document to the rest of them. "This is a draft of my report to Cabinet on the citizen response to the Valerians. I just finished it earlier this evening, and thought I'd let you gentlemen have a look. It seems that many citizens, both on Constituent worlds and even in the Core are not happy with the Valerian's rapid rise to prominence. Most view them as arrogant upstarts, and some fear they're outright dangerous. The people aren't accustomed to having this many psintegrae among them..."

Telemachus had just touched on the core issue with the Valerians. The war had been surprisingly long and costly, but the Commonwealth was slowly winning, and the Valerians opted to take the easy way out and join. Most nations that accepted such offers found themselves stuck in the perpetual limbo of "colonial status", but the Valerians had something the Commonwealth desperately wanted: telepaths. Of all the Commonwealth members, only the Yanissans had any telepaths, but the gift was very rare. However, it had been enough to rouse the interest of the powers that be, and so when the Valerians and their boatloads of telepaths had agreed to membership, they'd been put on the fast track. The citizens may not have liked them, but the military and the government certainly did.

The four men sat thinking for a while, but Bismarck already knew what they'd decide on. "Well, we can't very well do anything about the Valerians, so let's stick to what's tried and true," he announced.
Telemachus nodded slowly. "I'll speak to her Majesty and Lord Barrington about granting constituency to a colony or two, that should help keep morale up."
"And I suspect a few particularly vocal dissidents are about to dissappear," Martuf said with a thin smile.
"I'll dispatch some survey teams to some promising looking systems we've been scanning," Bismarck added,
Metternich smiled ruefully. "And I'll deal with the Equalists."

With that, they stood and said their goodbyes. Bismarck saw them to the door, then returned to his desk. There was work to be done.


Summary
Politics
Background info
Recent events in the Commonwealth

[Xartarin]

All in all, it was probably a good thing the Precursors never invented interstellar travel. In homes and offices they had laid down soft floors. In the starship designs purchased from other civilizations, the Nilinth were able to specify a need for comfortable carpet. However, the moon base in which their highest government offices operated was one of the most recent projects of the Precursor race of planet Deyrok, before they were extinguished by monsters from the deep. The floors of the moon base were polished stone, ornate and uncompromisingly hard. Traversing these halls was a common sore for the inheritors of the planet, the Nilinth. Their four opposing toes were clawed and constantly bent, evolved to grasp trees and clutch the soft dirt of the forest. Had the Precursors designed starships as well, the Nilinth would likely have had to suffer through similarly insufferable floor decisions throughout the galaxy. Medical leaves of absence to tend to their feet were common for members of the Council of Deyrok. Luckily for today's proceedings, the only Councilor that had not arrived was Economist Mulrok. Mul had decided to opt out for this meeting, having seen the schedule and decided to attend to other matters.

Priest Darrok and Veteran Telrok were making their way to today's meetings, awkwardly walking down the front hallway of the Councilor building. A large glass window was behind them, and further beyond that the glass of the air dome surrounding the complex. Beyond that, the planet Deyrok drifting beautifully through space, its heavy clouds allowing only tiny glimpses of its vast forests. New Councilors were known to walk this hallway backwards, unable to take their eyes off of it. Dar and Tel had been in this job for a while, and pressed onwards.

While the splendor of Deyrok as seen from space was a sight they had gotten used to, one that Tel hadn't quite began ignoring was what ze referred to as "that creepy door, you know the one". An offcolor door a few rooms closer to the boardroom, that led down a hallway and to a chamber and to a creepier door. The first door had signs on it posted by the Nilinth, warning that the hall was a dead end. The second door was written on by the Precursors themselves, warning not to open the vault unless [untranslatable]. It unnerved Tel because it was probably one of the few things that the Council kept from the people of Deyrok.

With a hand to zir back, Dar nudged Tel forward. Ze didn't like to discuss the door, it was a bit questionable for zir religion. Instead they both headed into the council room, Ambassador Falrok and General Nilrok already at their seats. Nil glanced at the feet of the arriving Councilors as they managed to shuffle to their seats without sliding or falling. "My, you've all gotten so good at this," said Nil, a monster from the deep and the only non-Nilinth member of the council. Ze was an Uben, an antisocial race of initially-aquatic biology thieves and warriors. Ze leaned back in zir chair, and leisurely planted zir boot-shod feet on the table. "Maybe we should be discussing getting you all a fitting pair a' these." Nil returned to sitting upright, that position a bit uncomfortable in zir armor. Nil was hardly ever seen without zir combat armor. It was good policy when you belonged to a species that couldn't stand the sight of each other.

"We are not discussing anything not in the schedule...." Fal breathed in deeply, the cyborg's breath regulated by a mechanical device covering zir mouth. "... Particularly when one of our members has left to board one of the ships we'll be sending off."

"It was a joke, shithead."

Nil's profanity had become commonplace at this point, and the other Councilors proceeded on without notice. "What is on the schedule is that we discuss the locations to send the two expeditions we have queued."

The screen on the table lit up, showing a 2-D map of the stars around Deyrok. The cycloptic Nilinth generally preferred this view to the hologram. Discussion was rather swift, as it was easy for them to agree on inching their sphere of influence closer to the recently discovered relays; doors to a yet unexplored region of the Galaxy.

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

Tap. Tap tap. Tap. Tap tap tap. Tap. Tap tap. Tap. Tap tap tap.

Frigate 56 drifted in orbit, stationed around one of Deyrok's colonies. Behind the captain at zir desk was a large whiteboard, marked with the days since the ship saw combat. Originally, the captain had been scratching it on the wall behind zir, but when the crew got tired of buffing out the scratches every battle to reset the count, they got zir a whiteboard. Now the captain scratches the whiteboard, and they simply replace that.

The count was currently at a few months. The captain sat at zir desk, chipping a little at the ornate wooden desk/scratching post with zir claws. Ze had seen rogue ships attack other colonies other than the ones ze was stationed at. It wasn't fair. And even when there was a battle, it was nothing like a real fight. No heart. Nothing that let the Captain's claws rip and tear through a worthy opponent's backside. What Deyrok needs is an old-fashioned land war, Ze thought.

In front of the captain's desk was a view screen. The screen activated, displaying one of the crew members, a Nilinth. "Captain, Councilor Mulrok has boarded the ship and is politely requesting permission to talk to you." The captain knew from experience that a polite request from a Councilor was just code for an order.

"Send zir in."

A few minutes, and Councilor Mulrok had entered. Unusually tall, even for a Nilinth, Mulrok had to bend down just a tad to enter the door without scraping their mouth on the top of it. Ze was eager to take a seat and see the Captain eye to eye. "Now, Captain...?"

"Just Captain."

"Right. I am here to oversee an important mission I have assigned to this ship." Though unmoving in posture and emotion, the Captain started wishing. In zir head, chanting expedition, expedition, expedition, the closest thing the Deyrok military had to entertaining. Sailing out, exploring new systems and worlds, fighting pirates, maybe even a big ugly space monster. Well, probably not, but a monster could dream.

"This ship is being converted to a trade vessel."

"No."

"I'm accompanying to oversee the reopening of this trade route-"

"NO, you filthy gene-exchanging piece of shit, you can't do this to me!" The Captain stood up, a claw pointed at Mulrok, his sharp teeth seething with rage, "Ten years, ten years I've been running this ship!"

"That was closed due to attacks by rogue ships."

"..... Alright, I'm listening."

Actions:
Expeditionary Force Sent: -100 Cs, 5 corvettes deployed
Expeditionary Force Sent: -100 Cs, 5 corvettes deployed
Open Trade Route: -1 Frigate

[Darkmatter]

Plot: ~Exegesis

-“The ashes of your existence will fertilize the soil for the universe to follow.”




The beacon had been flashing rhythmically for over three galactic standard days. Every few seconds; flash. A brilliant blue light, darkness, light. The beacon had a task to fulfil, but was going about it in a relaxed and pragmatic manner. It was operating within in constraints and waiting patiently to be alleviated of its duty. It had never taken this long and the beacon was becoming a little agitated, a rare feeling for something as long lived as it was, to express.

As is the way of the universe, reprieve came right in the depths of annoyance. Thousands of kilometres away, orbiting the gas giant's star in solarsynchronous orbit was a massive structure. In the structure's core, a field of what appeared to be pure energy. From here two prongs extended forwards, dozens of kilometres in length, the arms of a god reaching forward. Without any preemptive indication, the mass of energy began to whir momentarily and a shot of light was flung along the extended rails and accelerated towards the moon, from which the beacon protruded. Travelling faster than anything else in the universe, this packet of photons had a message to deliver and like a prophet it would deliver that message emphatically.

Suddenly, the light hit the beacon, and the two resonated with the same bright blue light. This immense flash was followed by a nothing, only a return to darkness. A deep lurching growl came moments later. A sound that was produced in the thin atmosphere that the moon clasped around it. The noise was guttural and of immense intensity, even in the limited gas.

The noise continued for several minutes before stopping as suddenly as it had started. Undoubtedly this was just the calm before the storm as it was only followed moments later by a sudden single sound, much greater than the rhythmic ones that had preceded it. Rock, mineral matter, metal ores, all were flung viscously out through the atmosphere and into space. They had been imparted with enough momentum to fling them into the stars gravitational field, or out of it completely. Yet, they abruptly stopped, seemingly defying a fundamental law of forces. Of course, they weren't violating any law really, as there was an external force on them. Trillions of kilograms of what had been merely a deceitful crust now hummed with a familiar blue light. Impeded by an unknown force they were expelled away from their position, away from what they had covered. They were rapidly accelerated until they reached the monolith which had brought the signal that had caused their excommunication from their resting place. A spark of energy erupted from the monolith and pulled all the debris down through the outstretched prongs and into the central mass, where in a flash, they disappeared.

Still orbiting the Jovian giant, the true moon now whirled into life. The beacon was pleased, things were starting to move along, and the beginning, the preparations where always his favourite part.

The crust gone, the inner mass was revealed. As large as any naturally occurring moon, this structure, and it was a structure, was evidently artificial in origin. A massive sphere made of dark silver metal, a dense supercomposite, manufactured at the most complex and minute scale. The beacon had attached itself from the utmost point, the zenith of the sphere. Several metres long, the sentinel and keeper of this structure acknowledged it was time, and activated the sphere.

More low pitched, sepulchral sounds emanated from the sphere, much louder than before. Immediately, three massive cracks began to appear on the surface of the structures. Each ran the entire perimeter of the sphere, a circumference of the axis in which it lay. Two lay along the overall sphere's 'y' axis and intersected at the zenith and the nadir. The third straddled the 'x' axis and together they rent the the sphere into eight sections, four on top and four below. Each section moved outwards at a forty five degree angle from the newly revealed core, which merely resembled a smaller versions of the closed sphere. All sections each had a massive connection, anchoring them to the core. Dozens of kilometres wide and hundreds long, these anchors were massive byways, unifying all parts of what was now clearly a space station of unprecedented scale and capability.

The beacon looked over his cathedral, his chapel. Running thousands of scans a second, the beacon ran dozens of system checks, hundreds of times each. Within the hour he was sure that every detail was exact, and issued the command for his congregation to awaken.*


Hundreds of identical, but smaller drones spawned from every recess of the station and began combing the lingering remnants of sediment and powering up secondary and tertiary systems.

78:45:23:78 - Activation of Prime Relay reported.*
78:45:23:79 - Activation of Alpha Relay reported.*
78:45:23:79 - Confirmation of Alpha activation not found.*
78:45:23:80 - Confrormation of Prime activation not found.*
78:45:23:83 - Unauthorized activation alert raised. Fleet on red alert*
78:45:24:01 - Contact with unauthorzed activation on both ends simaltaeneously.*
78:45:24:02 - Activation traced to neither Relay, unknown *idenitification and source detected.*
78:45:24:04 - Arrival of cargo at both Relays.*
78:45:25:05 - Error. Neither relay transferred cargo.
78:45:25:06v- Error. Both Relays recieved cargo.*
78:45:25:07: - Massive debris field identified as cargo.*
78:45:25:09 - Debris categorised as mineral matter.*
78:45:25:11 - Fleet reports indicate numerous losses and damages due to speed and volume of debris field.*

Events: ~Turn 1

RASP begins a long and difficult clean up operation after inexplicable events at the Relays. They do not have the jurisdiction to stop ships using the Relays unless a law is strictly broken. Ships currently wishing to do so do at their own risk.
For the next 5 turns, any ship moving through the Relays has a 50% chance of receiving damage.

Summary Of Actions: ~Turn 1



Unity of Deyrok:
Expeditionary Force Sent: -100 Cs, 5 corvettes deployed
Expeditionary Force Sent: -100 Cs, 5 corvettes deployed
Open Trade Route: -1 Frigate


Imperial Systems' Commonwealth:
Scientific Advancement - 200C + 10 status)
Expeditionary force x2 - 200C - 10 Corvettes


Avaloos:
Capitalist Venture - 1000C
Scientific Advancement - 200C
Scientific Advancement - 200C


Hamaciam:
Scientific Advancement - 200 C
Scientific Advancement - 200C
Send Expeditionary Force: - 100C - 5 Corvettes


Sputtlefish:
Capitalist Venture - 500C
Send Expeditionary Force - 100C - 5 Corvettes
Send Expeditionary Force - 100C - 5 Corvettes


Sithill:
3 Scientific Advancements - 600C + 30 Status

Results: ~Turn 1
Unity Of Deyrok
-Open Trade Route Pending:
-Expedtionary Force Finds a deposit of carbon isotope that is used in starship sheilding: Sellable for 250Cs or trade in against starship construction for 370Cs: -1 Corvette
-Expeditionary Force locates a suitable garden world and establishes new colony: -2 Corvettes +1 Colony{Colonial Trait} -100C

Avaloos
-Capitalist Venture(1000Cs): Success! Rate x3: +3000C
[Plus return of investment]
-Scientific Advancement x2: -400C +20Status

Imperial Systems Commonwealth
-Scientific Advancement: -200C +10Status
-Expeditionary Force: Located a small world, a little bit on the extreme end of the spectrum heat wise, but filled with resources: -2 Corvettes -100C +1 Colony {Colonial}
Expeditionary Force: Discovered an asteroid belt filled with deposits of zinc; Zinc is always good: -1 Corvette +230C (These account for the 100 cost btw)

Sithil
-Scientific Advancement x3: -600C +30 Status

Sputtlefish
-Capitalist Venture(500C): Success! Rate x2: +1000Cs [Plus return of investment]
-Expeditionary Force: Looks like you've found some heavy metals: -Corvette 305C

Hamacian Collective Organisation
-Scientific Advancement x2: -400C +20 Status
-Expeditionary Force: After discovering a promising system, your force was ambushed by some Alliance freelancers on their return journey: -100C -5 Corvette

[Marrone]

The air was tepid and moist inside the corvette.

“We can’t wait any longer! Fly towards the waypoint—Hurry!”

They were anticipated, mostly nervous. There were UFO’s on their tails who wouldn’t respond to their communication attempts. But the HCO ships weren’t as fast. Something felt wrong.

“We have to leave, it’s just a matter of time—“

One camera screen rustled, and immediately alarms erupted all around their ships.

“Got a hostile shooting at me!”

Blazing inferno smothered through one corvettes camera, the hyperflammable fuel seeping backwards as a result of accurate projectile fire. A gush of black gore smacked against the video screen went to static.

“Got a fire!”

She was crying. She knew that he had what they wanted. Tears ran through her red eyes and you could almost see the vibration of her heart, pulsating against her chest.

“Hostiles shooting at me!”

They sweeped as much as they could to countermeasure the missiles, but their ships weren’t equip for this kind of combat situation. Kimeyo took a hard left, spiraling, while jettisoning countermeasures.

“Got a fire!”

What’s the meaning of life anymore.

“Breaking up—“

The sirens blared. He couldn’t breath. All he could see on the screen was the wailing, the screaming of his co-workers, faces red, eyes hopeless.

“I’ve got a fire!”

She looked so afraid.

“It’s too dangerous! Brent, jettison that thing before it blows!”

Then her screen fuzzed into static, and her ship smacked into mine.

We spun violently off in the distance.

---

The urban complex sprawled into a ruinous deceit.

Mundo shifted forward, bringing the weight of the world with him.

A large space cruiser sailed off in the distance, it’s lasers sparked firecrackers against smaller ships, mechs and groups of soldiers.

His weapon smacked against the corner of the wall, hungering for something to shoot. But it was too quiet. Then a rip in fabric appeared, searing the world into hi PANCAKE white devil MOTHERFUCKER and that’s what they guru alphabet intrepid cacophony wee-woo! Wee-woo! _{She tasted so good.} Hello! Nevermind, I got to get back to blue BLUE BLUE BLUE REDBLUE BLUE BLUE GREEN BLUE

Mundo ripped the helmet off. “What the fuck doc’?”

The scrawny technician began tinkering with some wires, while another one—a female—typed a flurry of programming,

“Sorry Mundo, it happens. There was just a glitch in the system.”

He bolted off his chair, moodily, “Yeah, well get it fuckin’ right next time!”

---

“When our ancestors cultivated the land for agricultural purposes, did they set precedents for how to systemize their own plans in reproduction? What I mean is, basically, if we grid some land, plant the seeds as we see fit, does that somehow translate to me taking a partner out to dinner, for courting her and treating her a certain way in order to ensure that reproduction is ordered and in our control? As we further postulate, both means get the same end; they sustain life in some form or another. The former short term, the latter long term. . .”

---

Strings bounced back, smacked in a riff funkier than most could bear.

“Hit it!”

---

Zooey hailed the alien satellite.

"That's odd."

Her counterpart, Coane, inferred "It's probably unmanned-- and broken."

"You know, we came thinking 'there'd be no challenges out in space' but look at us now!"

Slowly but surely, the mechanical arms worked at the wires. "Alright, I think I'm starting to find some patterns."

"Looks like the problem is the crosshatch-- is that. . .water?"

"Coolant leak?"

"Whoever made this. . .Are either genius' for making this work or imbicles who soaked up old tech and launched it up here. . ."

"Hey, I think I fixed the problem. . ."

"Comm-link it, lets check it out!"

---

“What’s significant about organisms is that organic life is able to, sometimes willingly, transport a portion of mass—our bodies—and move it towards a space.”

---

The two pale men typed away, scrawling over their keyboards.

“Alright, now lets crunch some numbers.”

---

Spoiler

Open Trade Route - Sputtlefish - 1 Frigate
Send Expeditionary Force - 100C - 5 Corvettes
Send Expeditionary Force - 100C - 5 Corvettes

[Arxia]

It was two days after the discovery of the graviton and Hurok was now on Skarana. He was feeling the effects of the lower gravity here. The last time he was here was two years ago when the scientists here had created artificial gravity plating by manipulating exotic forms of matter. He was talking with Yooli, the scientist who headed the project.
"So, we simply started studying specifically the artificial gravity plating and about six months ago we discovered the graviton. We released the discovery after we had created a successful engine using the graviton. It spins a field of gravitons around the ship to push it forward from behind and pull it forward from the front. This allows the ship to travel much faster than the speed of light."
"Equip it on our fleet," Hurok immediately blurted out.
"What?"
"We have a fleet of ships to defend Valoria in case of an alien invasion of the system. It's at the Valoria L-5 location. You will recieve all the funding you need to do it and get it accomplished within a month. We're also going to fund you even more for further discoveries."
"Wow, really?" Yooli asked.
"Indeed," Hurok turned, "Slave? May I get some tea? Slave? Slave?!!?"
"Um, Sir," Yooli tapped his shoulder and his security escort stepped forward and Yooli stepped back. "Sorry."
"Relax, boys. You were saying, Doctor? And where is that slave!?"
"Sir, there are barely any slaves off Valoria. They just cost extra resources."
"What? No slaves, Reds everywhere, what else do our colonies have?" Hurok said in amazement.
Yooli gave him a curious look, "You do realize I'm a quarter White, right?"
"Oh? I didn't realize that!" Hurok frowned. "You look purebred Red. Most Reds only date Reds."
"Yeah, my Momra, in fact, is a Blue. My Mora is half White - half Red and my Dudra and Dura are full Red."
"You're grandmother adopted the Horx religion?"
By this point Yooli had gotten Hurok tea and both were sitting in a small cafe. "My family line has been practicing the Horx religion for generations now. Aquallia, goddess of water, Flarit, god of fire, Arioli, godess of wind, and Grolika, god of the earth. The divine family. Anlegia, goddess of light, the virgin goddess. Daklegia, goddess of darkness. And Etweya, the supreme god of life and death.
"Long ago did my family through the White lineage transfer from a two person marriage system with the Trirex religion to the four person marriage system of the Horx religion. In fact, my wife and I are couple dating right now."
Hurok chimed in, "I always liked the way Horx dating and marriage worked. You date one person, then marry. Then as a couple you go out dating again until you find another couple to marry and you are complete with your family of four. Two males and two females most of the time. Children learn the difference between their Momra and Mora, and their Dudra and Dura. It's so fulfilling! Quit honestly, I am not sure how Trirexians pull off a two person marriage."
At this point, Hurok was stepping into the ship that would take him back to Valoria. "I suppose this is where we say goodbye, Yooli. I wish the best to your wife and yourself." he smiled and the door closed.
[EXTERIOR NOTE
There are two main religions among the Avaloosi. Trirex, a religion with three gods that is very popular among Whites. It consists of a Mother Goddess, and Father God, and a Son that was a slave that rose to be with his parents when he died. This religion has a marriage as would be recognized by humans, and is anti-homosexuality as all marriages are between one man and one woman.
Horx, is the strongest religion among the Avaloosi with seven gods as described above. Complete Marriages are described as above and can be between four men or women, three men or women and one of the other, or two men and two women. Most people of this religion are bisexual but there are exceptions. Momra and Mora both loosely translate as "Mom" to English, but Mora is the one that actually shares genetic information with you. The same is true for Dudra and Dura except with "Dad".]
Kryler and Jona greeted the delegates that were already arriving for the convention when Jona pulled him aside. "These people are going to vote Hurok to be Convention President even if he doesn't want to just because he is the President of the Republic. He is going to get five whole votes as Convention President, plus, you will be forced to continue acting as a conservative. We need to take him out so we can have control."
"What?" Kryler said, shocked.
"If we kill him, I will become President and thus Convention President. Then we will finally be able to craft a government where we have control. Stratify the society. Elites, us, and the Lower Class. Our genes will be passed on. Our SUPERIOR genes will be passed on for posterity to become better. We can assure our families perfection."
"True," Kryler conceded. "We will finally have complete control and no one could take us down." They both laughed at the pleasure they felt in this.

It was a week later, and Hurok was about to give a speech. Kryler was at his side, knowing that he was about to be assinated. Tomorrow, the Convention would start, so today Jona had to take lead of the country.
They stepped forward to and Kryler stepped to the side allowing Hurok the podium. A gunshot was heard, and Hurok fell. Kryler rushed to him in fake care as did Jona. They carried him out as his security took care of the chaos in the room. In a small side room, Hurok spoke out to Kryler. "Who did this, Kryler? Who would do this?" his voice was weak.
"Well, we did of course," Jona spoke out.
Hurok looked with shock at Kryler.
"Power," Kryler said. "The people aren't smart enough to handle themselves. We need to do it for them.
"But they're still people! They can think on their own and should have their own decisions, even if they screw up their lives!"
"Slaves could do that too, Hurok!" Jona told him. "Except for a few people, though, everyone is too dumb to do that."
"That was the one liberal position I took, and I took it privately. Slaves should be freed. Now you are going to enslave everyone," Hurok said with dying breath.
"The slaves are going to be emancipated," Kryler said, "Everyone is just going to be controlled," Kryler added putting his hand over Hurok's mouth to suffocarte him. "And that will dissolved the Constitutional Party and with us framing Gelltir, the Liberty Party will end up dissolving also. Perfect."
"Indeed, the Liberty Party was just like the Constitutional Party except wanted to free the slaves and a few other more libratarian approaches to things," Jona commented.
A moment later, the security burst in along with the Supreme Justice of the Court.
"Hurok didn't make it," Jona said to the security. One of them nodded at him. He was in on the plot. Everyone left accept for the Supreme Justice, Jona, and Kryler. With Kryler as witness, the Supreme Justice swore in Jona as the new President.
This new nation about to be formed would be molded closely to the desire of the Elites like Jona and Kryler. A tyranical monster was born.
Trolik arrived on Valoria and immediately found out Hurok had been assissinated and Jona was the new President. All evidence apparently seemed to implicate Gelltir, who had many times spoken out against Hurok for his views on slavary and drugs. This convention was gonna be a bumpy ride.
Trolik, was a Red from Horexia and a member of the Imperial Party, a meeting of the Constitutional Party and the Liberty Party with strong military influences. The Imperial Party had a relatively strong presence on Horexia and Trolik was a prominent member within it. He hated the People's Democratic Party because of it's socialist, pacifist, tendencies and would fight his hardest in this Convention against those views. Damn it all to Daklegia, he would need to be dubious. "Forgive me, Anlegia. Guide me, Daklegia," he mumbled.


Summary:
Hurok invests in science.
Hurok is assinated.
Enter Character: Trolik

Scientific Advancement - 200C; 1Ppoint
Scientific Advancement - 200C; 1Ppoint
Scientific Advancement - 200C; 1Ppoint

Net Change:
Fleet -- None
C ------ Minus 600
Ppoint - Minus 3
Status - Plus 30

Current Status:
Cs : 29,000
Ppoints: 0
Dreadnoughts:
Battleships: 1
Crusiers: 6
Destroyers: 10
Frigates: 25
Corvettes: 150
Fighters/Fast Attack Craft: 10,000 (7000 Defending Valoria, 2000 Skarana, 1000 Horexia)
War Agreements: NONE
Economic Pacts: NONE
Alliances: NONE
Great Advancements: NONE
Cultural Idols: NONE
War Heroes: NONE
Status: 20 + 30 (For Scientific Advancement)